#Remote Work Techniques

[digitaldetoxworld]

Time Management tips for balancing work, study, and personal life 101: How to Make the Most of Every Hour

 Simple Time management techniques to reduce stress and increase focus  is an vital ability that may drastically effect your private and professional life. Whether you're a student, a professional, or someone looking to stability more than one obligations, effective time management allow you to gain your dreams extra correctly. By the usage of realistic techniques to prepare your time, you can reduce strain, increase productiveness, and create more space for the matters that honestly count number.

Understand the Importance of Time Management

Time Management tips for balancing work, study, and personal life Before diving into unique strategies, it’s vital to recognize why time management topics. It  is a finite resource—everyone has the identical 24 hours in an afternoon. However, how you use those hours can determine whether you feel completed or beaten. Good time control permits you to prioritize tasks, meet time limits, and locate time for rest and self-care.

Poor time management, then again, can lead to pressure, ignored time limits, and burnout. When you don’t control a while efficaciously, you may find your self constantly speeding, juggling multiple tasks with out focus, and feeling like there’s in no way enough time within the day. Developing sturdy time control abilities facilitates you're taking manipulate of your time table, leading to a more balanced and enjoyable life.

Set Clear Goals

Effective time management begins with putting clean goals. Without a clean vacation spot, it’s smooth to wander off in the day-to-day activities with out making significant development. Your desires need to be specific, measurable, practicable, applicable, and time-certain (SMART). For example, rather than pronouncing, "I need to enhance my grades," a SMART goal would be, "I need to boom my math grade by 10% by means of the end of the semester by means of analyzing for an additional hour each day."

Setting clear goals offers you course and purpose. It also facilitates you prioritize responsibilities primarily based on their significance and time limits. By understanding what you need to gain, you may allocate your time more effectively and keep away from spending too much time on much less vital sports.

 Create a To-Do List

A to-do list is a easy yet effective device for managing some time. It facilitates you preserve tune of obligations that need to be finished, making sure that nothing slips through the cracks. Start each day through writing down the obligations you need to accomplish. As you whole each project, take a look at it off your listing. This now not simplest continues you organized but also gives you a feel of accomplishment as you see your listing getting shorter.

To make your to-do listing extra powerful, try and prioritize obligations based totally on their urgency and importance. A not unusual method is the Eisenhower Matrix, which categorizes duties into 4 quadrants:

Urgent and Important: Do those duties straight away.

Important however Not Urgent: Schedule those obligations for later.

Urgent however Not Important: Delegate those tasks if viable.

Not Urgent and Not Important: Consider casting off these responsibilities.

By focusing at the most critical tasks first, you make sure that you’re making progress on what honestly subjects, even if you don’t whole everything on your list.

Break Tasks into Smaller Steps

Large obligations may be overwhelming and lead to procrastination. To avoid this, destroy down large responsibilities into smaller, achievable steps. For instance, when you have to write down a research paper, destroy it down into steps like deciding on a subject, conducting research, creating an define, writing the advent, and so on. By tackling one small step at a time, the assignment will become much less daunting, and you’re much more likely to stay prompted and on track.

Breaking duties into smaller steps also allows you to estimate how lengthy each step will take. This facilitates you intend your day greater accurately and avoid underestimating the time required for complicated duties.

Use Time-Blocking

Time-blocking is a time control approach in which you divide your day into blocks of time, every devoted to a specific mission or interest. This method enables you live centered on one challenge at a time, lowering distractions and growing productiveness. For example, you may block out nine:00 AM to 10:30 AM for answering emails, 10:30 AM to 12:00 PM for operating on a assignment, and so on.

When you use time-blocking off, be practical approximately how long obligations will take and encompass buffer time for unexpected interruptions. It’s also critical to block out time for breaks, food, and personal sports. By sticking to your time table, you can make the maximum of your day and make certain that every one your vital tasks are addressed.

 Prioritize Your Tasks

Not all obligations are created identical. Some duties are vital to attaining your desires, while others are less crucial. To manage some time successfully, it’s vital to prioritize your obligations. One way to do this is via using the ABCDE method:

A Tasks

Must-do responsibilities which can be vital and have extreme results if no longer finished.

B Tasks

Should-do tasks which might be important however not vital.

C Tasks

Nice-to-do responsibilities that have no significant effects if no longer carried out.

D Tasks

 Delegate responsibilities that may be assigned to a person else.

E Tasks

Eliminate obligations that aren't vital and do not make contributions in your desires.

Start with your A tasks, and only circulate directly to B and C obligations once the most crucial work is finished. By specializing in high-precedence obligations first, you make sure that you’re making progress on what topics most.

 Avoid Multitasking

Multitasking may also look like a way to get extra performed, but it may surely lessen your productiveness. When you attempt to do more than one duties without delay, your recognition is split, which could result in mistakes and longer of completion instances. Instead of multitasking, recognition on one assignment at a time. This permits you to offer your full interest to each undertaking, enhancing the first-class of your work and supporting you complete obligations extra correctly.

If you locate it difficult to recognition on one assignment, strive putting a timer for a selected amount of time (e.g., 25 mins) and decide to operating on just one venture for the duration of that length. This method, referred to as the Pomodoro Technique, can help improve awareness and productiveness.

 Learn to Say No

One of the most important demanding situations to powerful time management is overcommitting. It’s clean to say yes to each request, whether it’s from a colleague, buddy, or member of the family. However, taking over too many obligations can lead to stress and burnout. To manage it slow efficaciously, it’s crucial to study to mention no.

Before agreeing to take on a new undertaking, take into account whether or not it aligns with your desires and whether or not you've got the time and resources to do it successfully. If now not, it’s okay to with courtesy decline or advocate an alternative solution. By shielding your time, you can awareness on what’s most essential and keep away from spreading your self too thin.

Use Technology to Your Advantage

There are many tools and apps to be had that will let you manipulate some time extra successfully. For instance, virtual calendars like Google Calendar or Microsoft Outlook assist you to time table obligations, set reminders, and percentage your time table with others. Task management apps like Todoist, Trello, or Asana let you preserve track of your to-do listing, prioritize obligations, and collaborate with others.

Using those equipment will let you live organized and on course, making sure that you don’t forget about critical duties and closing dates. However, it’s important to apply generation mindfully—don’t allow it come to be a source of distraction.

Reflect and Adjust

Practical Time Mangement strategies for remote workers  control is not a one-size-suits-all approach. What works for one person might not paintings for another. It’s essential to regularly reflect to your time control strategies and modify them as wished. At the give up of each week, take the time to study your accomplishments and discover any regions in which you struggled.

Ask your self questions like: Did I obtain my desires? Did I stick to my schedule? What distractions did I come upon? What can I do in a different way subsequent week? By reflecting to your development and making adjustments, you could continuously improve some time management skills and become extra powerful through the years.

[spotlightstudios]

Remembering that Light's actual backstory is op as hell, but really funny. Because as much as I think Light would totally beat up anyone they took on w/ some scrawny anime protag moves, I know in my heart that they're a spell-caster.

By that I mean, if they were trapped in a fight w/o potions or magic they'd just fuckin die. 2 seconds in they would get snapped like a twig. Best they'd have would be to just book it, cuz there's no way they outlast their opponent.

[lifes-little-corner]

remote team leadership strategies

Leading a dispersed group of individuals comes with unique challenges and opportunities. I’ve learned that clear communication and trust are the foundation of any successful virtual environment. Without face-to-face interactions, building connections requires extra effort and intentionality. Research shows that employees working from home are 47% more productive compared to those in traditional…

[darrenwalleyconsultancy]

Work-Life Balance

Photo by Fuu J Work-life balance refers to the equilibrium between work and personal life demands. It is about allocating time, energy, and attention to professional and personal pursuits to avoid excessive stress, burnout, and neglect of personal well-being. Achieving a work-life balance does not necessarily mean spending equal time on work and personal activities but instead finding a rhythm…

[reasonsforhope]

"In some cities, as many as one in four office spaces are vacant. Some start-ups are giving them a second life – as indoor farms growing crops as varied as kale, cucumber and herbs.

Since its 1967 construction, Canada's "Calgary Tower", a 190m (623ft) concrete-and-steel observation tower in Calgary, Alberta, has been home to an observation deck, panoramic restaurants and souvenir shops. Last year, it welcomed a different kind of business: a fully functioning indoor farm.

Sprawling across 6,000sq m (65,000 sq ft), the farm, which produces dozens of crops including strawberries, kale and cucumber, is a striking example of the search for city-grown food. But it's hardly alone. From Japan to Singapore to Dubai, vertical indoor farms – where crops can be grown in climate-controlled environments with hydroponics, aquaponics or aeroponics techniques – have been popping up around the world.

While indoor farming had been on the rise for years, a watershed moment came during the Covid-19 pandemic, when disruptions to the food supply chain underscored the need for local solutions. In 2021, $6bn (£4.8bn) in vertical farming deals were registered globally – the peak year for vertical farming investment. As the global economy entered its post-pandemic phase, some high-profile startups like Fifth Season went out of business, and others including Planted Detroit and AeroFarms running into a period of financial difficulty. Some commentators questioned whether a "vertical farming bubble" had popped.

But a new, post-pandemic trend may give the sector a boost. In countries including Canada and Australia, landlords are struggling to fill vacant office spaces as companies embrace remote and hybrid work. In the US, the office vacancy rate is more than 20%.

"Vertical farms may prove to be a cost-effective way to fill in vacant office buildings," says Warren Seay, Jr, a real estate finance partner in the Washington DC offices of US law firm ArentFox Schiff, who authored an article on urban farm reconversions. 

There are other reasons for the interest in urban farms, too. Though supply chains have largely recovered post-Covid-19, other global shocks, including climate change, geopolitical turmoil and farmers' strikes, mean that they continue to be vulnerable – driving more cities to look for local food production options...

Thanks to artificial light and controlled temperatures, offices are proving surprisingly good environments for indoor agriculture, spurring some companies to convert part of their facilities into small farms. Since 2022, Australia's start-up Greenspace has worked with clients like Deloitte and Commonwealth Bank to turn "dead zones", like the space between lifts and meeting rooms, into 2m (6ft) tall hydroponic cabinets growing leafy greens.

On top of being adaptable to indoor farm operations, vacant office buildings offer the advantage of proximity to final consumers.

In a former paper storage warehouse in Arlington, about a mile outside of Washington DC, Jacqueline Potter and the team at Area 2 Farms are growing over 180 organic varieties of lettuce, greens, root vegetables, herbs and micro-greens. By serving consumers 10 miles away or less, the company has driven down transport costs and associated greenhouse emissions.

This also frees the team up to grow other types of food that can be hard to find elsewhere – such as edible flower species like buzz buttons and nasturtium. "Most crops are now selected to be grown because of their ability to withstand a 1,500-mile journey," Potter says, referring to the average distance covered by crops in the US before reaching customers. "In our farm, we can select crops for other properties like their nutritional value or taste."

Overall, vertical farms have the potential to outperform regular farms on several environmental sustainability metrics like water usage, says Evan Fraser, professor of geography at the University of Guelph in Ontario, Canada and the director of the Arell Food Institute, a research centre on sustainable food production. Most indoor farms report using a tiny fraction of the water that outdoor farms use. Indoor farms also report greater output per square mile than regular farms.

Energy use, however, is the "Achilles heel" of this sector, says Fraser: vertical farms need a lot of electricity to run lighting and ventilation systems, smart sensors and automated harvesting technologies. But if energy is sourced from renewable sources, they can outperform regular farms on this metric too, he says. 

Because of variations in operational setup, it is hard to make a general assessment of the environmental, social and economic sustainability of indoor farms, says Jiangxiao Qiu, a landscape ecologist at the University of Florida and author of a study on urban agriculture's role in sustainability. Still, he agrees with Fraser: in general, urban indoor farms have higher crop yield per square foot, greater water and nutrient-use efficiency, better resistance to pests and shorter distance to market. Downsides include high energy use due to lighting, ventilation and air conditioning.

They face other challenges, too. As Seay notes, zoning laws often do not allow for agricultural activity within urban areas (although some cities like Arlington, Virginia, and Cincinnati, Ohio, have recently updated zoning to allow indoor farms). And, for now, indoor farms have limited crop range. It is hard to produce staple crops like wheat, corn or rice indoors, says Fraser. Aside from leafy greens, most indoor facilities cannot yet produce other types of crops at scale.

But as long as the post-pandemic trends of remote work and corporate downsizing will last, indoor farms may keep popping up in cities around the world, Seay says. 

"One thing cities dislike more than anything is unused spaces that don't drive economic growth," he says. "If indoor farm conversions in cities like Arlington prove successful, others may follow suit.""

-via BBC, January 27, 2025

[dreamersparacosm]

Girl we need a smut blurb for them , im talking wild sex . I’ll take anything I know they’re both freaked out

well, well, well. you put two overachievers in a bed and what’s going to happen? magic, that’s what. or maybe he’ll just use your vibrator as part of your scheduled stress relief. whatever.

the price of desire — epilogue blurb 3!

prompt ; in which stress relief takes on a whole new definition.

warnings ; sex toy usage, fingering, jungkook cums in his pants

There are worse problems to have, you tell yourself.

Ever since you and Jungkook officially started dating, things have gotten a little… out of hand (and by “out of hand,” you mean fucking each other senseless across multiple continents.)

Obviously it started in New York and Seoul. Then it was Paris. You two dabbled in exhibitionism during a trip to Bali. Now it’s whatever remote, paparazzi-proof destinations your travel agent nervously books for you at 2 in the morning.

Hotels, apartments, rental cars, bathrooms you’re pretty sure were not designed to withstand the kind of behavior you’re inflicting on them. At this point, it’s becoming a global crisis. International security agencies may want to get involved.

It’s getting so frequent, so mind-numbingly good, that you’re starting to worry about yourself a little. Like, is it normal to see god every weekday?

Unclear.

But it is nice, really nice, to relieve that stress that weighs on you after a workday. (And god knows you have plenty of that to go around.)

Jungkook is, if nothing else, very committed to the cause. He takes care of you painfully well, as if it’s his full-time job and the only acceptable performance review is your legs shaking too hard to stand.

Case in point: you’re currently spread out across your bed in New York, lips swollen from a makeout, hair damp from the bath he ran for you, and he’s kneeling between your legs, big palms dragging slow strokes up and down your thighs.

It's a perfect Wednesday night, all safe and soft and steady until he drops his suggestion into the quiet.

“Let me use the vibrator on you, baby.”

Your brain, already half-melted from the hour-long slow burn he’s been subjecting you to, scrambles for purchase.

You are not equipped for this on a Wednesday night. Especially not after a 14 hour workday, 2 back-to-back global strategy calls, and a last minute crisis involving a Calvin Klein store opening in Shanghai.

You open your mouth to respond, yet nothing makes its way out.

Jungkook smiles at you with amusement and reaches over to the nightstand like it’s the most casual thing in the world. As if he didn’t casually drop a bomb into the atmosphere of your previously scheduled stress-relief session.

With bulging eyes, you observe as he pulls open the drawer, rummages around for a second, and then holds up your light purple vibrator in his hands.

The device is small and sleek, manages to look mockingly innocent resting in his palm.

You stare at it, then at him, mouth working like a fish suddenly introduced to the concept of air.

"I—" You stutter eloquently.

He responds with that signature grin, the one that makes you want to throw a pillow at his face and climb him like a tree. "Come on, baby," he coaxes, "You said you were stressed. Think of this as... advanced relaxation techniques."

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. "This wasn't exactly what I meant by 'stress relief.'"

"What's the worst that could happen?" he asks innocently, setting the vibrator down beside you before leaning close to press a kiss against your inner knee. "You enjoy yourself too much?"

"The audacity," You roll your eyes, trying and failing to suppress the shiver his touch sends up your spine.

"It’s like.. a scientific experiment," he continues, trailing featherlight kisses up your thigh. "Testing the effects of a vibrator on stress."

"Did you just turn my vibrator into a science fair project?"

His laugh rumbles against your skin. "I'm innovative like that. Always thinking about my subject’s satisfaction."

"You’re not selling it," You sigh but there's no heat behind it.

"I'm persistent," he corrects, looking up at you with darkened eyes. "And also extremely dedicated to your wellbeing. Just say yes."

You can’t look at him. With his mess of black hair falling over his forehead, with his eyes displaying a glint of mischief and the stupid Calvin Klein white t-shirt that drives you crazy. He’s so fucking hot, and it brings you to the brink of temporary insanity. That’s how you got in this mess in the first place.

What you need to be doing is saying no. Set some kind of a boundary. Be a strong, independent woman who does not immediately fold at the suggestion of midweek sex toy experimentation.

You do none of those things. Rather, you sigh and flop back against the pillows, one arm flung dramatically over your eyes.

“Fine,” you mutter like he’s inconveniencing you. “Whatever. Just don’t break my toy.”

You hear him laugh, a rich velvety rumble that vibrates through you while the mattress dips beneath his weight as he repositions himself closer to your core.

Before you even take your next breath, he’s kissing up your thighs, hands stroking the backs of your knees, your calves, your hips.

The vibrator hums to life; it’s soft at first, a low sound and your stomach flips violently.

Curiosity compels you to emerge from behind your self-imposed blindfold just in time to witness his gaze fixed upon you. He is a hungry man, you’ll give him that much.

Which leads you to your next thought: you’re not even sure why you bothered putting on underwear after the bath. A small, defeated part of you wants to blame some lingering sense of dignity, some naive attempt at not being completely easy just because your boyfriend washed your hair like a Disney prince and kissed your shoulder after.

Whatever weak attempt at decency you made is long gone the second Jungkook hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts dragging them down. Thumbs brushing over the dip of your hips like he’s memorizing every line, every secret part of you he already owns.

The cotton peels away from your thighs, and the cool air hits your core, makes you shiver. He works them down over your knees, then your ankles, tossing them somewhere behind him without a second thought.

You’re already squirming a little, hips shifting against the mattress, thighs clenching reflexively, but he just chuckles under his breath before reaching for the hem of your oversized T-shirt. (Technically his T-shirt. Technically yours now. He stopped fighting that battle months ago.)

Slowly, he pushes it up, bunching it around your waist, exposing the soft skin of your belly, the slick glistening between your legs that you’re trying very hard not to feel embarrassed about.

A single finger gets dragged between your folds, dipping into the mess he’s barely even touched you to create, and you can’t help the broken little gasp that escapes your mouth. “Oh—“

Jungkook lifts his hand and holds it up between you. Your slick clings to his finger. Shining in the soft light your lamp provides.

The bastard. How dare he provide proof of your demise.

He raises a brow smugly. “Already this wet, baby?” He teases.

You glare at him, or at least try, but it’s hard to summon the proper outrage when your body is practically vibrating with need.

“Shut the fuck up,” You grumble.

He laughs and settles himself back between your thighs. The toy hums softly beside you, still on the lowest setting and when he picks it up again, your stomach nearly exits your body.

He strokes the inside of your thigh with his free hand, ��Ready?” He asks. Jungkook’s always been sure to consent; you do know he’s genuinely asking for permission.

You nod, frantic, willing to sell your soul if he would just please, please touch you already.

Oh god.

Oh fuck.

For the love of everything holy.

You jolt forward violently the second the vibrator touches your clit. Even on the lowest setting it’s too much, white-hot pleasure snapping up your spine and exploding behind your eyes.

“Fuck—” You gasp, whole body twitching, hands scrambling for something to hold onto.

A string of curse words falls out of your mouth before you can stop them, completely and deliriously out of your control.

Jungkook smiles, presses his palm flat against your thigh to pin you down. “You’re so sensitive tonight,” He notes, somewhat amused.

You might cry. God damn him for being so perfect to you that he’s holding a vibrator to you and not making comments about how “he could do it better.”

You settle for grabbing a fistful of the bedsheets and moaning helplessly when he adjusts the angle slightly, nudging the vibrator a little higher until your hips are jerking against the mattress.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing slow circles into your thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

Alright, you’re not afraid to admit — maybe you didn’t care much for his definition of stress relief before.

But now? Now you need it more than anything.

You’re a mess; panting, moaning, hips twitching up and it’s still on the lowest setting.

You risk a glance down your body, and the sight nearly undoes you. Jungkook is watching you intensely, brows drawn, lip ring caught between his teeth, arms flexing where he’s bracing you open.

The look on his face alone could make you finish.

“Please,” you gasp. “M-More.”

He nods once, like he’s been waiting for you to ask. “Yeah, baby?” he’s clearly out of breath, thumb brushing over your thigh in grounding circles. “I got you.”

Jungkook clicks the vibrator up to the medium setting, and the second the stronger vibration hits your clit, your back arches clean off the bed, a cry ripping from your throat. There’s a hum that comes from low in his throat while he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“You’re so good for me,” He says against your skin. “So desperate already. Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you? Just from how good it feels?”

His tattooed fingers squeeze your flesh harder, holding you open, keeping you steady, and the way he’s looking at you makes you want to sob, truthfully.

Jungkook drags the vibrator in slow circles over your clit, keeping you teetering right on the edge before mercifully setting it down beside you. You barely have time to breathe before he’s spitting into his hand and sliding two fingers between your thighs.

The second he pushes them inside your entrance, you buck violently, a whine tearing out of your mouth. “F-fuck—”

You feel impossibly full already, walls clenching around the stretch, the slick sounds embarrassingly loud in the otherwise silent room.

Jungkook groans mostly to himself, head dropping forward to watch where he’s sinking into you.

“God, baby,” he exhales, curling his fingers in that way that makes your toes curl too. “You’re so fucking wet.“

You moan helplessly. Obviously, the man must be trying to kill you. A death wish of sorts. He works his fingers inside you, dragging them along that sweet spot that has you keening into the mattress before reaching over with his free hand to flick the vibratot back on.

He sets it to the highest setting — and holy mother — you nearly catapult off the bed. The intense, overwhelming buzz against your clit paired with the slow pump of his fingers inside you is absolutely lethal.

You choke on some form of a gasp, thighs jerking. All thoughts of work, stress, the world outside this room — gone. Obliterated.

Jungkook, flushed and sweaty, arm veins flexing with every stroke of his fingers, can’t take his eyes off the mess you’re making on your sheets beneath you.

Your thighs are trembling violently now, little spasms you can’t control. You try — god, you want it noted you do try — to keep your hips still, to hold off a little longer.

But the man is evidently on a mission. Fingers fucking into you deep and steady, the vibrator merciless against your clit, voice rougher than normal: “Cum for me, baby. I wanna see it. Wanna feel you cum all over my fingers. Please.”

You’re way past the point of rational thought. Spinning out. Every nerve ending burning hot under your skin.

“Fuck—” you sob. “Kook— I’m gonna— oh fuck, fuckfuck—”

Neither of you get to find out what you’re “gonna” before the orgasm tears through you viscerally, a full-body convulsion that has you crying out and grabbing onto his wrist.

Your toes curl involuntarily against the sheets while your thighs close around his head, stomach muscles clenching before your whole body lets itself fall into the pleasure.

For one disorienting moment, your vision actually blurs at the edges — a genuine blackout that some doctor could probably explain but you're certainly in no condition to contemplate — while somewhere in the distance you hear yourself gasping his name in a way that makes you grateful these walls are soundproof.

You’re panting when it finally ebbs, chest heaving, pussy clenching desperately around his fingers. Jungkook presses a kiss to your thigh again, slowly eases his fingers out and shuts off the vibrator that's become both your nemesis and savior in the span of minutes.

There’s a quiet that feels almost startling compared to your thundering heartbeat.

You’re floating somewhere, the bed seeming to perform a gentle carousel spin around you when he grabs your face gently with both hands and kisses you. You kiss him back automatically, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt.

Through the haze, you murmur against his mouth, “Take your sweatpants off. Wanna fuck you.”

He responds with a groan, pressing his forehead against yours. Insistently, you tug at the waistband, whining a little when he resists.

“Come on,” you mumble, still half-drunk off your orgasm. “I need you.”

He makes a choked sound and pulls back to look you in the eye. His body moves to lean against your headboard, and you scooch over to kiss down his neck while he tries to come up with whatever excuse he can.

And then comes the confession, tripping awkwardly from his lips. “I… uh…”

Your eyes narrow into spiteful little slits, pulling away from him.

He winces, a full-body cringe that would be adorable under other circumstances but currently only amplifies your confusion.

“I… I came already,” He confesses, so low you almost don’t catch it.

Jeon Jungkook? The Jeon Jungkook… came in his boxers like a teenage virgin.. from using your vibrator against you?

You blink repeatedly, brain attempting to process this unexpected plot twist.

“What?” You say dumbfounded.

He covers his face with one large hand in the universal gesture of mortification, ears betraying him by flushing a deep crimson even in the room's low light.

“You— you… came? Just from—?”

Your boyfriend groans, clearly exploring the possibility of spontaneous human combustion as a merciful escape route.

“You looked so good,” he murmurs into his palm. “I couldn’t— fuck, I tried to hold it—”

You stare at him for another second. Then, completely against your will, you burst out laughing. It spills out in waves that are equal parts exhaustion, affection, and perhaps a whisper of mockery, but your attempts to suppress it prove to be futile.

Jungkook glares at you weakly through his fingers.

“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, “My idiot.”

He grumbles something unintelligible while pulling you firmly against his chest, a transparent attempt to muffle your laughter and hide his reddening face but your giggles persist. At some point, you do take the opportunity he presents to nestle your face into the warm crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, a chuckle exiting once every few minutes.

All things considered?

Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday night. Not bad at all.

masterlist + ask

[practistyles]

everyone wants him (pt 1)

in which Harry is obsessed with Y/N but she doesn't want anyone to know about them and for good reason

In this part: popular college football star Harry, fluff, Harry being cute & obsessed w Y/N, no warnings i think!

Inspirations: “Slut!” (Taylor’s Version) [From The Vault] by Taylor Swift, Teenage Dirtbag by @freedomfireflies, that nick and priyanka moment when he pulls her chair

1.6k words

Y/N's textbook disappeared from under her bent over head just as suddenly as she felt her chair being nudged. She gasped, then looked up. And his face in front of her  - it just made sense. Of course it was Harry. She always chose the quietest, most remote place in the library, but he always managed to find her. 

Harry morphed his face into one of fake thoughtfulness as he stared at her textbook. “So, Y/N, true or false? A consistent heuristic is always admissible.”

Y/N groaned. “I would be able to tell you if you would just stop interrupting my studying.” 

He lowered the book and looked right at her. He was still a bit sweaty, which meant he was off doing some football thing. 

“You like when I interrupt your studying,” he said, his grin returning and Y/N felt her own face betray her by breaking into a smile. 

“I do not. I’m seriously going to fail my exams.”

He pulled the chair beside hers and collapsed into it. “You are not. You’re gonna ace the exam.”

“How do you know? Have you seen the paper?” Y/N retorted. 

Harry placed the book back in front of her and rested his chin on his palm. “No, but I’ve seen you. It’s gonna go great.”

Y/N smiled at his compliment. “How was football?”

“Boring. Missed you.” 

“Oh? Did you miss my obnoxiously loud cheering or my incredibly helpful tips on kicking technique?”

Harry chuckled. “You have no idea how it works, do you? No one cheers in practice.”

Y/N shrugged. "Maybe they should. Might help you kick the ball better."

Harry’s mouth tugged at the corner. “Come here,” he said, gentler than before, and reached forward to drag her chair closer to him. He lifted a hand up to her face, carefully cradling her jaw, making her eyes meet his. 

“That’s better,” he said, and leaned forward, lips pressing at the corner of her mouth. 

Y/N smiled, her hands reaching up to rest on his waist. “You really did miss me, huh?”

She felt his breath on her neck. “Always, Y/N.” 

Y/N felt warm and bubbly inside. These days, Harry seemed to get more and more… needy. There was no other word for it. He kept finding her at random moments in the day, he kept saying how much he missed her everytime they weren’t together. She never felt the way she did when she was with Harry. In the two months they’d started this, he’d more than proved to her that he was sincere, but everytime he was even slightly affectionate Y/N felt her defenses go up. His touches and his affection made her incredibly giddy, but it also made her feel guilty. And sad. And terrified. 

Two months ago, when she’d let this wonderful, talented, golden boy kiss her, she’d made him promise no one could find out about them. About her. And at first Harry seemed to understand, he almost agreed. His teammates were assholes, Y/N’s classmates were huge gossips, and she honestly just thought he was too good for her. This is what she’d believed: she was easy and lonely, he was bored and famous. No cared about her, everyone cared about him. 

But she didn’t think that was true anymore. Or at least, most times she didn’t. Harry was wonderful to her. Sometime it almost felt like she was hurting him by not letting him be with her around other people. But she was scared that once they let it out, he would realise what he was actually missing out on, all the other wonderful people he could be spending time with instead of this girl whom he made his entire day revolve around. 

There was a rustle behind them and Y/N suddenly remembered where they were. Who she was. She pulled away suddenly. Her cheeks reddened and she tried to subtly  glanced around. She felt Harry gently squeeze her fingers where they were intertwined with his, and as she turned back to him the look on his face was slightly worried. 

“Sorry,” Y/N murmured, “for being so paranoid. I just - ”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Harry replied. “I understand. It would be absolutely shameful for you to be seen with me.”

Y/N’s jaw fell open, but then she saw the look on Harry’s face, his wide grin, crinkles near his eyes, and she swatted his arm. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” he said, and pulled his chair out to stand. “I need to go shower and then head to class.”

Y/N nodded. “I need to study the shit out of this textbook.”

“Don’t worry your pretty self too much.” He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Y/N nodded and watched him walk away. She couldn’t focus on any studying for a while after he’d left. 

****

At night, his call was unexpected. Y/N was at her table, stress clouding her mind, considering just going to bed and going over the material she was trying to revise in the morning. When her phone rang, she groaned, because the last thing she wanted to do was speak to someone. 

Except the person who’d actually phoned her. Just his name on her phone had improved her mood entirely. 

“Hey,” she said. 

“Y/N,” Harry’s voice came from the other end, slightly grainy due to the terrible service on campus, but she could hear his smile through it. 

“You good?” she asked. 

“Now I am,” he said, and she swore her insides fluttered. “Were you about to sleep?” he asked.

“No, not really.”

“Okay so listen, I was thinking if you’d be up for something.”

Y/N plopped down on her bed. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Harry cleared his throat at the other end. “There’s this game next weekend. It’s here as well, and super important. You probably don’t want to know about the leagues stuff, but if we win we could get into the finals for the next season.”

Y/N felt her heart lurch. She knew where this was going. “Okay, and?”

“And, there is this after party later.”

“Right.”

“Which I would have to attend.”

“Because it would be for the team in which you play, yes.”

“And also because we would win.”

“Oh? How do you know you’ll win?”

“If you will come to the party with me, I’ll win it.”

Y/N was silent. She knew what her answer was gonna be, but she didn’t know how she would make him accept it. 

“Harry…” she started, her voice already lacking conviction. 

“Okay, listen, I know. I know,” Harry scrambled in the aftermath of her reply. “I get it, Y/N. But think about it - it’s gonna be a huge party, no one is really going to care about us. And I really want my friends to know you. My life would be so much simpler if I could talk about you to my friends. Because I always want to fucking talk about you. I feel like I need to keep it in all the time.”

Y/N smiled sadly. She imagined Harry lying on his back with his arms folded beneath his head, phone lying next to him on the pillow. Or on his side, phone clutched in both hands, expectantly waiting for her to say yes. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said. 

He sighed at the other end. “Whatever you’re worried about Y/N, I’m not going to let it happen,”

“I don’t - It’s just  - we both know everyone is gonna be confused seeing us together and I just don’t want to -”

“We don’t even have to be together!” Harry said, excitedly. “I mean, if you just came, we could just stay apart. Can’t promise I’ll be able to, though. But we could sneak around and no one has to see. I would just love it if you came.”

Y/N felt  a little ache in her bones. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I want,” Harry said. 

The entire night Y/N kind of tossed and turned around in her bed. She could never really explain to herself fully why she was so paranoid about them. Y/N felt like she had been stringing Harry along, even though they both knew that wasn’t really true. 

She was just simply scared of a repeat of last year, which she thought was a very valid fear. She never really spoke to anyone about it except her parents. Y/N shuddered at the small flashbacks she got. She wondered if all of Harry’s teammates still remembered. And how had Harry never even known about her? She had become a private joke for them. They way she’d let Jacob treat her… Y/N had sworn to never let it happen again. And now she was putting herself in that exact situation.

****

The next day, she met Harry in the parking lot outside the cafe.

"What are you doing next weekend?" he had a smug grin on his face and Y/N just knew he was not going to take no as an answer. She had to just get through it.

"I have no plans yet. Are you proposing something?"

He turned her away from the side of the cafe and put his arms around her waist, drawing her close.

"What if I am? Will you say yes?"

Y/N's eyebrows raised. "Propose first."

Harry stepped away from her and got down on one knee. Y/N feigned surprise, hands flying up to cover her mouth.

"My darling Y/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and come to the afterparty with me, but kind of not with me, on Saturday? "

Y/N couldn't help but beam down at his honest, beautiful face even as everything inside her still remembered the horrible feelings she had felt.

"Yes, Harry. Yes, I will."

****

omg omg omg my first post ever. i am so excited for pt 2 hopefully i can actually write it soon. i have no idea how to do this but i really wanted to start!

also, read the second part to this here !

[tobiasdrake]

Which DBZ antagonist do you like the most?

Boring opinion, I know, but I gotta give it up for the Obvious Choice.

And I'm not just saying that because I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

Frieza runs a real estate empire that carries out genocidal acts of gentrification, purging tracts of land of their native inhabitants so he can sell their land for profit. Commenting on this choice for his ultimate villain, Akira Toriyama stated that he made this decision because real estate speculators are the worst people there are.

Fucking based.

From the moment we meet Frieza, he is a monster. Toriyama likes this Big Guy Little Guy dynamic where the Little Guy is the one you really need to watch out for. Frieza is the Littlest Guy ever.

He's so tiny. And yet you know exactly who the most dangerous person in this group is. Zero question.

By the end of this altercation, Frieza reveals one of his signature attacks, giving us our first glimpse of the kind of person and the kind of fighter he is. This is such an important moment for his character and I'm kinda mad that the anime had Dodoria do it instead.

Muri destroys the Scouters and blinds Frieza. I've talked before at length about the devastating impact that this move and the Namekian warriors' attack has on Frieza's campaign.

But once it's done, he has to face the music. He's not getting out of this alive.

In one last desperation play, Muri tells Cargo and Dende to run while blocking them with his body. And that's when it happens.

This is Frieza.

Specifically, this is Frieza's Death Beam. It's never actually given a name, but is generally referred to as Death Beam. We've seen a move like this only once before.

The Dodonpa, signature technique of Tsuru-senryu, first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, was built for extreme lethality. This is not a technique for fighting; It's a technique for killing.

What makes Frieza's Death Beam stand out from the Dodonpa, however, is its accuracy and its speed. He threads the needle around Muri to hit Cargo before anyone even has a chance to react.

We see its accuracy and speed again six days later, when it finally catches up to the other child fleeing from him here.

The panelwork here calling attention to everyone's reactions as Frieza's ki bullet shoots past them, as his shot threads the needle between all obstacles in his path to strike his target far behind them. Dende is dead before anyone can even process that Frieza fired.

This is the difference between the two techniques. The Dodonpa is a gun. The Death Beam is a sniper rifle. Faced with the physical hurdle of bodies impeding his path, Frieza point-clicked Cargo and Dende to death.

He later executes Vegeta this same way.

Done with you.

All of this context for Frieza's sniping shot serves to set up the stunning subversion when Goku arrives to fight.

Frieza's never seen this before. Goku shouldn't even be able to see the shots coming until they've perforated his lungs. That's how Death Beam works. It's this moment that lays it out: Frieza's about to be tested like he's never been tested before.

Speaking of cool techniques, I've always been partial to this move from his Third Form.

The anime gives Frieza little ki bullets coming out of his fingers but I want to note that we never see a physical projectile when he's doing this. Frieza jams his fingers back and forth in the air while something pulverizes Piccolo.

I've always imagined he's poking the air so fast that it's hitting Piccolo with pressurized air currents. Similar to Goku's Mazoku air current punch from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.

But that's just me.

In any case, Frieza's got some fun moves. He's something of a hobbyist martial artist. Which is to say, Frieza has an interest in martial arts. In addition to his Death Beam, Frieza's concocted a litany of other interesting techniques.

He even invented the Kienzan, independently of Krillin.

Though he can remote operate his Kienzan so it's strictly better than Krillin's. Frieza, in his spare time, has come up with a bunch of cool moves. Too bad he has no idea how to use them.

Frieza's greatest weakness is his inexperience. He practices martial arts the way a business CEO who bought a log splitter so he can cut some wood and feel woodsy practices agriculture. Frieza has never had a proper chance to truly experience martial arts, because he was born too powerful.

The only partner who's ever even dirtied his skin was his dad.

And even that isn't much. Frieza's too strong. He wants to pursue martial arts. He wants to hone his technique. But when you win every fight by blinking too hard in the opponent's direction, what even is there to practice?

Frieza created a transformation to seal away his immeasurable ki because he was born with so much ki flowing from him that he can't even contain it. At his peak, Frieza's ki bleeds out of him. He simply can't contain it.

Goku wonders aloud why Frieza took so long, even after the fight turned against him, to go to 100%. Frieza's been all "Oh I'm only using 10% power this is my 50% you made me go to 75%" and Goku's like, "Okay. My dude. What's this about, for real?

This, incidentally, is not a great translation. What Goku's saying here is supposed to be basically, "Perhaps when you use your full power, your body can't handle it."

He is correct.

Frieza's Full Power has a lot in common with Super Saiyan 3. His theoretical maximum ability is wildly different from the reality of what he's capable of, because he bleeds ki like it's going out of style.

So, while other characters wound up earning transformations that make them more powerful, Frieza created a transformation to seal away some of his incomprehensible ki.

Then he created a couple more because even though he could now control his strength and even manipulate the amount of ki he's releasing at a time, he was still too powerful for anyone to ever compete with and needed even more ki sealed away.

Again, not a fantastic translation from the people who brought us "bottom-tier boy", as Frieza's statement here could be interpreted as saying that he gets taken by a berserker rage or something.

What he's saying is more like, "My power is so great that I can't properly contain it."

Point is, Frieza transformed to lock down his ki and seal parts of it away, so he could control the rest better. Then he kept going, locking away more and more and more of his ki. And even at his most nerfed, he's still five times more powerful than the Second Strongest Guy in the Universe.

Frieza has never in his life had the opportunity to be pushed. That's what makes Goku so enthralling to him.

Frieza plays with Goku because he's genuinely having the time of his life. This guy can fight him in his Final Form. Nobody can fight him in his Final Form. He's so happy, he straight-up forgets that he's trying to complete a genocide against Goku's entire race.

He said that five minutes ago. Gohan's hidden power freaked Frieza the fuck out. Saiyans are too strong now. They've gotten too strong. Frieza cannot permit them to keep existing because they're getting strong. Every last Saiyan, every last one, must die. Every single one. Scorched earth, no survivors.

But then he meets a Saiyan martial artist who's a technical master and pushes him more than he ever thought possible and suddenly:

He goes from "Saiyans are TOO STRONG and they all must die because they might threaten me" to "OH MY GOD I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN CAN I KEEP YOU!?"

It's this desire for a true rival, this opportunity to satisfy his amateur's curiosity about martial arts, that ultimately unravels him. Frieza has one ruthless and pragmatic option for ending this fight once it starts to be too much for him. He can technically stop the fight any time he wants.

But he can't bring himself to do it. He wants to fight. He wants to compete. Frieza's been on the outside looking in at martial arts for his entire life and even when his greatest fears are fulfilled and the Super Saiyan is in front of him, he wants to try.

So when he does attempt to pull his Lethal Ragequit, he pulls back at the last second. He can't bring himself to do it. Goku initially assesses that Frieza held back out of fear of hurting himself.

But later, as Frieza begins unlocking the final chains on his ki, Goku changes his assessment. Noting that if Frieza really held back simply out of a mistake, he could have shot the planet again at any point to finish the job. He's been letting this play out because he can't bring himself to end the greatest fight of his life that way.

This fight is still happening because Frieza wants to compete. I mean, he wants to win, of course, but he wants to win as a martial artist. He's never truly gotten to be a martial artist before.

He is not the guy winning the gold medal at the Tenkaichi Budokai. He has never been that guy. He's the guy who buys up the land the Tenkaichi Budokai is held on and then bulldozes all the people off of it. But in his heart of hearts, he wants to be that guy. That guy is so cool. Frieza wants to play too.

In a sense, by hosting the Cell Games, Cell got to live Frieza's greatest fantasy.

This is who Frieza is. He's the cruel and wicked heir to Genocide Realtors Inc., who is in love with the idea of being Tenshinhan - A desire that exists at odds with - and undermines - his pragmatic business sense, so to speak.

He is the most vile character in the history of Dragon Ball. The worst kind of person. He is also an overeager child whose wealth and privilege prevents him from ever truly enjoying his hobbies, to an extent that he'd be almost pitiable but for all the genocides.

And he is Dragon Ball's greatest villain.

[jj-one]

STRAY KIDS + WHEN YOU’RE BUSY AND THEY CRAVE YOUR ATTENTION !

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: skz x f!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, nipple play, fingering, exhibitionism, voyeurism, marking, sexting, sending nudes, piv, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap ur willy), masturbation, oral (f receiving), dry humping, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, spanking, there is probably more but i’m too lazy to write them all words: 4.4k

[note] if you remember seeing this before yes i’m the original author i didn’t plagiarize lol, i made a new blog and was formerly known as @milkychae but deleted a while ago. i’ll be reposting all my old deleted fics and using this as an archive !

BANG CHAN. It was finals week, aka your personal hell. You were always super nervous about tests and if you didn’t score over an 80% that may as well be a failure to you. You sighed as you opened yet another textbook to read, your dickhead professor thought it would be a good idea to pile more homework on top of the fact knowing you all needed to study. Your major was biochemical engineering so you shouldn’t have been too shocked by all this intense workload. As you were sitting on the bed you heard a noise come from the door, looking to the left of you to see Chan coming inside. You don’t really put much thought into it though since you see him literally everyday and you were just really focused on studying right now. That’s when Chan starts to come up behind you, rubbing your shoulders and planting a kiss to your cheek.

“Hiii y/n, I’m back!” He says cheerfully, “I couldn’t wait to see you baby,” he proceeds to try and pry the textbook out of your hands so you can give him your full, undivided attention but you pull it back.

“Sorry babe but I really, really need to study right now.” You tell him with an exhausted look on your face. You’ve been studying for only 2 and a half hours but it feels like the entire day.

Chan looks at you and puts his arm around you, “You look so tired sweetie, why don’t you let me give you a massage?” He asks, already starting by wrapping his hands back on your shoulders.

You loved this man dearly, he just came back home from an 8 hour shift at work but is still offering to give you massages and help you out when you’re stressed. You want to tell him no and that you seriously need to focus back on studying but the intrusive thoughts were slowly winning. Ultimately you gave in to Chan’s desires and he gave you a gentle massage. The massage started off pure at first with no intention of going any further but then his hands slipped a little too far and came in contact with your nipple. He noticed you weren’t wearing a bra underneath so he slips his hand through the opening of your t-shirt, light moans were now leaving your mouth from his touch.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day babe,” Chan softly whispers while pinching your nipples, bringing his other hand down to your thigh and gently caressing it. Chan has always been good at being a distraction for you and his cock is definitely what you need instead of reading about the Principles and Techniques of Molecular Physics.

LEE KNOW. Saturday nights were the best, you had no work and got to do whatever you wanted for the whole day. You weren’t much of an outgoing kind of person so you chose to stay in and have your boyfriend Minho come over and be lazy with you. You were wrapped up in your cozy sherpa blanket watching your favorite kdrama season finale, you and Minho both loved kdramas but you got way too into them. Your eyes have been glued to the show since Minho got there and you only spoke about three sentences to him. He’s sitting on the couch next to you and he’s not as remotely interested in the show as you are, he keeps looking around the room and sneaking glances at you from time to time.

He can’t stop noticing how cute you look today, you were wearing very light makeup and had messy hair. He thought you looked so adorable in your current state, just in awe of your natural beauty. He wraps his arm tightly around you and tries to give you a kiss, but you quickly pull away from him so you can focus back on the TV, not trying to miss anything. Minho gets visibly upset by this, he wants to give you his affection yet you’re currently denying it. He tries one more time to kiss you but you continue to keep pulling away to watch the show. That’s when he decides he’s had enough and grabs the remote to turn off the TV, causing you to get frustrated with him.

“What the hell Minho?!” You say in confusion, you were getting so close to knowing who the girl’s father finally was.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just starts roughly kissing you, pushing you down on the couch and hovering over your body. He pulls away leaving you breathless, then proceeds to nibble on your earlobe, dragging his tongue further down to lightly suck on your neck, touching a certain spot that makes you inhale sharply. He brings one of his hands to your stomach, rubbing it gently. Beginning to toy with the hem of your sweatpants and wants nothing more than for them to be off.

He was almost going to give in to that idea but a new one came to mind, an even more sinister thought. He grins as he continues rubbing down your thigh, you want him to wipe that smirk off his face so badly because you have no idea what he’s up to. Wondering what he could possibly be thinking about right now. Minho brings his fingers to your clothed heat, sliding them inside the sweatpants and starts rubbing your clit through your panties. You moan for him as you close your eyes, feeling the friction. You buck your hips in the air so you can feel more of him, but Minho grips your hips and holds them firmly in place.

“No, stop. No moving ‘til I say so,” Minho says sternly, giving your clothed pussy a little slap as he looks at you. “Since you’re so willing to ignore me, I get to tell you what to do from now on.”

CHANGBIN. You’ve been cleaning the entire house preparing for your parents to come over for dinner. You wanted to make sure that everything was perfectly spotless and the amount of cleaning you did today could account for your whole lifetime. You were cleaning the stove and just as you were about to grab another clean sponge you see Changbin with a whole box full of donuts from Krispy Kreme.

“How’s it goin’ babe?” Changbin asks while setting the donuts onto the table, he sees you wearing an apron and giant yellow gloves, “looks like you’ve been doing some serious, hard labor!”

“I’ve been cleaning for 5 hours now..” You say with an exhausted look on your face, “I haven’t even finished cleaning the stove yet.”

“Who cares about the stove y/n,” Changbin says, chuckling at your frustration about needing everything to be neat and tidy.

“I’m serious Binnie, I need to clean everything and make sure it’s all perfect!” You tell him while pouting.

“Why don’t you take a break babe.” He suggests out of concern, grabbing your hands to take your gloves off and sets them aside. He slowly brings your body up against the wall behind you, kissing you passionately. He must have been wanting you all day by the way he was hungrily kissing you, the man was sucking on your face for dear life, exploring the depths of your mouth as both your tongues were intertwined. He takes off your apron and grips his hands around your waist while your leg wraps around him, he held you so securely.

As things got more heated, and all your clothes were off, he aligned himself inside you. Your hands were snaked around his neck as you desperately move your hips to feel his cock, feeling every bit of his thrusts in you. Letting out a high-pitched moan as you grab a fistful of his hair and scream his name. Your legs grew weak with each and every stroke Changbin gives you, feeling like you’re going to faint. He continues pounding into you like no tomorrow and you hold tightly onto his shoulders for support. His skin was sticky and sweaty from all the work he’s putting into fucking you, his face looked super focused as he was hitting all the right spots. He was fucking all your stress away at this point and you were feeling so good. You feel yourself coming to your peak as he thrusts into your dripping heat, you’re seeing stars at this point. The harder his strokes were getting, the faster you were to reaching your climax.

“Mmm…gonna cum!” You cry out in pleasure, slowly losing your grip on him as you slip from his grasp. Changbin swiftly picks you up and pins you harder into the wall, making sure you don’t go anywhere by fully pinning his body up against yours. You feel so connected to each other in this very moment as you’re both about to cum, both letting out a string of moans in unison. You both reach your highs together, dizzy as your orgasm washes over you, feeling his cum leaking out of your cunt and dripping down to your leg. You just spent the whole day cleaning and now you have to get cleaned up before your parents come in approximately 30 minutes.

HYUNJIN. It was a long day at work, you were about 6 hours in and you already wanted to end it all. You work at a clothing store and on this particular day for some reason everyone and their mom wanted to come shopping. You’ve been working the register nonstop and you had yet to take a break, you were so busy that you forgot to even take one. You asked one of your coworkers if they could cover for you while you go on lunch and they said yes. You were so excited to finally be able to get to sit down and eat. As you sat in the break room you checked your phone for any missed messages, you see that you have a bunch of missed texts from the new guy you’re seeing. Hyunjin’s name is plastered on your phone and you check the messages straight away, eyes growing wide at what was shown before you. Hyunjin sent you a string of messages:

‘Hey y/n, what’s up?’ [1:15 pm]

‘Imyyy’ [1:25 pm]

‘Wyd? Are you at work?’ [1:42 pm]

‘Yea you’re prob at work :P’ [2:26 pm]

‘I’m a little horny lol’ [2:41 pm]

‘I want youuuu’ [3:02 pm]

He then proceeds to send you a couple shirtless pics of him in bed and a short video of him stroking his erect cock through his boxers. You quickly look around to see if anyone would be able to notice and you don’t see anyone else in the break room besides you. That’s when you open the video fully to see the rest, quickly get turned on as your wetness is only growing. You ran to the bathroom so you can send a photo back, snapping a quick pic of your boobs under your shirt and telling him how wet that video made you at work. You love that he now comes to you for when he feels needy, you like that he craves your attention while you’re gone. He sends you another message saying how much badly he wants to fuck you and he can’t to pick you up from work. You smile at that and tell him you only have 2 more hours to go.

You realize it’s time to get back to work and now all you can think about is that damn video Hyunjin sent you. The way he was stroking his cock all nice and slow made you want to be there to give him even more pleasure. You were walking around all day with wet and sticky panties since you came a little bit from fingering yourself in the bathroom to the video. You couldn’t wait to bounce on Hyunjin’s cock all night after you get off work.

HAN. This was now the fifth dress you tried on and you still haven’t figured out a style you liked yet. You were getting frustrated but you weren’t going to let your pickiness get you down from shopping. You were at the mall with your boyfriend Han and as much as he hated shopping he liked to see you try on the pretty dresses for him so it was a win-win. You go to a different store now and you check out those dresses, making a beeline for the pink ones since that was your favorite color. You check out all the various designs and ask Han which ones he liked best, he didn’t really give much input and just picked the shortest one for you.

You gave him a playful side eye and put the dresses you didn’t like back, heading over to the dressing room so you can try everything on. As you were trying on the dresses, Han was sitting on a bench outside the door, texting all his homies. He soon started to notice how long it’s taking you in there and although you were busy trying on dresses he was getting tired of sitting here and waiting for what seemed like an eternity. He sighs as he figures out what to do, but he ends up deciding to knock on your dressing room door. You don’t reply but he can hear stuff rustling from the inside so he knocks again and tells you it’s just him.

“Uh… I think I need help,” you tell him reluctantly, he’s not sure what you need help with but he comes in anyway. He sees you standing in the dressing room with your hands in the air and the dress halfway up your body, he starts to laugh at how you were stuck in it.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, please help get this damn thing off of me!” You whine, and he begins to unzip the dress from the back, releasing you from its tight grip. You feel like you can finally breathe once again and slip the dress off of you, now completely naked in front of Han. You were only wearing your skimpy g-string and you had your nipples pierced which Han loved about you. He looks you up and down, licking his lips as if he was about to destroy you. The only thought in his head right now was to kiss you, so he grabs your face and crashes his lips into yours, moving some of your hair out the way. You kiss him back but harder and even more passionately, letting him fondle your boobs and play with your piercing. As he toys with your nipples he looks at you with pure lust, his eyes were all hazy and he looked nothing but in love with you. He started kissing your chin and licked the side of your neck, making you get all wet and worked up for him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this right here baby,” you tell Han as he continues roaming all over your body.

“Doesn’t that make you wanna do it even more though?” He says mischievously, sucking on your neck and giving you small hickies. You knew the chances of getting caught were very high but at this moment, you didn’t really seem to care. All you wanted right now was Han and that’s all that was on your mind. His hands slid down between your legs, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers and coating them with your essence. Your wetness was leaking down to your thighs and it took everything in you not to scream from Han’s touch. He inserts two fingers in your tight little hole and goes in and out slowly, you press your lips together trying not to make a sound, so he covers your mouth.

“Shhh… quiet babe,” He whispers into your ear.

FELIX. It’s not secret to Felix that you were a workaholic, you often immersed yourself in your work a little too much. He knows you are an independent woman that enjoys the freedom of working but at the same time he really wishes you’d give that same energy towards him sometimes. You traveled a lot for work and although you two live together, it still puts a strain on your relationship being apart for long periods of times. Felix loves to be around his lover and the fact you are always so busy with work makes him want to shower you with even more love and affection when he sees you. You were gone on another usual business trip but this time it was for a week, that was the longest you’ve gone for work and it was driving him insane. Everyday he thought of you and he would text you little things that he saw randomly throughout the day that reminded him of you. You always appreciated how much Felix adored you and your work ethic, he loved you for you.

The day you came back home from work Felix came to you with open arms, he was more than excited to see you again and all he wanted for the past week was the attention of his beautiful lover.

“I’ve missed you so so much baby,” Felix says whilst giving you the biggest hug, his body was so warm and you melted right into him. You gave him a kiss and he moves you both over to the couch, pulling away from kissing you for a second with a weird grin plastered on his face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, wondering what he’s thinking in that head of his.

“I got you a little something, I’ll be right back,” he quickly runs to your shared room and comes back with a black box in his hand.

“What’s this?” You ask curiously, holding the box up to examine what it could be.

“Just open it, you’ll be surprised.”

You do as you’re told and open the box, you see a purple velvet bag and you open to see what’s inside. It was a vibrator, it had multiple settings and looked very high quality and expensive. You instantly blushed as you held the item in your hand, looking up at Felix so he can explain what’s going on.

“I wanted to get something to relieve your stress..” he continues “because you’re always so busy and stuff, y’know.”

You smile at the naughty gift your boyfriend gave you, giving him another kiss and thanking him.

“Want to use it on me now?” You ask, knowing that he’ll say yes to you in a heartbeat. Felix’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store and he agrees without hesitation. He sits next to you on the couch with the toy in his hand and you’re now making out. As one thing leads to another, you end up naked lying on your back with your legs spread wide out for him. He has the toy on one of the highest settings and you’ve squirted about three times for him already.

“Come on baby, you can give me another. Just one more,” Felix says demandingly, having too much fun with this toy.

You spring your head back as you feel the toy in your soaking wet entrance, you don’t know how much more of this you can take. Your legs were violently shaking and the couch was soaked with your juices, you felt like you didn’t have anything left in you. Felix keeps fucking the toy in and out of you making you scream out for him, he palms himself through his pants as he does it.

“I never want you to be away from me again y/n,” Felix’s deep voice rasps as he pumps the toy into you deeper, “I mean it this time.”

SEUNGMIN. You were laughing hysterically as you were scrolling through TikTok, you’ve been glued to your phone for hours at this point. You showed Seungmin, who was sitting next to you on his bed yet another TikTok that he probably wouldn’t think is funny. You put the screen up to his face to show him the video and he looks but doesn’t really seem that interested. You tell him how funny you think the video is and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“You know, I’d rather have you shoved in my face rather than a phone.” Seungmin says to you.

‘Ok boomer’ you think to yourself, not wanting to actually say it incase he gets offended. You decide to just ignore his comment and go back to watching hilarious TikToks. Seungmin starts to get bored and he when he gets bored he becomes bratty. You hear him whine a little bit, looking up from your phone to see him pouting and all you want to do is give him a kiss.

“C’mere,” You command for him to come closer, he quickly does so looking like a lost puppy. He plants a chaste kiss to your lips, then begins to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. He slips a hand under your tank top and lightly squeezes your boob. You sigh as you feel him innocently brush past your nipples, then he trails some more kisses down your stomach. Once he makes his way down to your lower body, he quickly takes off your pants with ease. Teasing your clothed pussy a little bit, watching as a wet spot starts to appear from the outside, he circles your clit and starts to sniff you.

“You smell good baby,” Seungmin compliments, finally taking off your panties and tossing them somewhere on the bed. He kisses the inside of your thighs and feels the warmth of your skin on his lips. He loves every inch of you and he wants to take his time with you. Flicking his tongue on your clit and you hiss at the feeling, you want him to fuck you with his tongue. He licks a nice long stripe across your wet folds, staring up at you while doing so, your phone still in your hand the whole time. Seungmin brought his head up more to face you, “keep looking at your phone while I eat you out babe, pretend like I’m not even here.”

You comply with his instructions, continuing to watch TikToks like normal and Seungmin goes back to devouring your pussy like the good boy he is.

JEONGIN. It was a very nerve wrecking day for you, you were meeting Jeongin’s parents for the first time today. You put on your most expensive Dior perfume and prettiest heels to meet his mom since Jeongin told you she was very into fashion and can tell when girl’s wear cheap perfume. You wanted to impress this woman as much as possible since this was definitely going to be the man you wanted to marry someday. Jeongin reassures you the whole day that she was going to love you regardless,

“Even if you wore perfume from the Dollar Tree she’d still like you!” He tries to give reassurance. You don’t believe that’s true but when you get to his mom’s house you meet her and the rest of his family. His dad was super nice and everyone was very welcoming towards you. You were actually shocked by how chill and laid back everyone was, you felt bad for assuming that they would be mean to you. Jeongin’s mom was the last person you met, when you met her she came off as a little timid but then she started to warming up to you once you started having a lot of things in common.

She was really sweet and super funny, you now know why Jeongin is such a charming guy. You see Jeongin come up to you so he can pull you away from his mom for a bit but his mom brushes him off to tell him she wasn’t finished talking. He walks away with a defeated look on his face and you continue talking with his mom. When the food is ready everyone gathers at the table to eat and you sit beside Jeongin, his mom was across from you both. You were busy for most of the day talking with his family and getting to know everyone. He wanted to be with you but he couldn’t even get the chance, feeling left out in the conversation. You feel your phone vibrate from the table and you pick it up to see who it is, seeing that it’s from Jeongin but you’re confused because he’s sitting right next to you. You turn towards him to ask him why he just texted you but he puts his finger to his mouth to tell you it’s a secret. You place your phone under the table to look at the message,

‘Come meet me in the bathroom upstairs by the laundry room ;)’

You instantly blush from reading that text and try to hide your flustered expression. You look at him and nod your head to signal that you understand. Jeongin shoots his head up and tells his parents who were across the table from him that he needs to be excused to go to the bathroom. You shoot yourself in the foot thinking about what excuse you can come up with so you both don’t look sketchy.

“Sorry please excuse me I have to take this important call for my job,” you quickly say to his parents as you head over to where you’re supposed to go.

You meet Jeongin in the bathroom where he told you to and you went straight to heavily making out. He grabs your ass and spanks it lightly, “How long you think we can be in here before they start to notice?” You ask, his lips now glued to your neck.

“I dunno, I honestly don’t really give a fuck.” He says bluntly, turning you around to face the sink and the mirror, pressing his bulge against your ass. He starts grinding his dick against you slowly, kissing your neck and running his fingers down your body. He lifts up your dress and drags his cock to rub against your clothed cunt, you lowly moan his name and he smiles. He’s about to fuck you so hard against this sink all the while his parents not having a clue where you two went.

[vicariousresearcher]

Thinking about Simon with a girlie with agoraphobia. A sweet bird he met through a pen pal program between civilians and soldiers.

It started off so superficial and stilted. You tell him about your favourite foods, about your remote job, about the stray cat you’ve been trying to lure into domesticity. Surface level, like you’d been forced. Later, he learned that your therapist suggested this as a form of human contact. 

Maybe it was the simpleness with which he replied, maybe it was the exasperation of all exposure techniques attempted, or maybe it was the bone-deep, clenching starvation of human contact that led to you spilling your guts into the letters. Personality in the swoops of your g’s and slashes of t’s. Inner workings laid bare for a faceless man who offered no judgment. Anonymity veils over you both like a confessional booth. Your words detailed a festering wound of loneliness that ate you from the inside out, drainage the colour of a pent-up rage for that which made you the way you were. Simon offered comfort in mutual struggle, the addiction genes laying in wait in his DNA that led him to wander over the lines of normalcy to obsession. 

Offerings were made to one another as a form of thanks. You’d give tea bags, a wrapped-up sweet, a polaroid of a bedraggled cat sitting within arms reach of your window sill. 

Simon became a scavenger for every little thing you gave him. Picking through like a vulture of the offerings of yourself, this deity who he knew existed only for himself. Not a soul knew you the way he did. 

Flowered plucked from cracks between concrete, foreign pop bottle lids, a chicken scratch drawing of a pond at sunrise were the meagre offerings he gave back. You were sequestered in that mind of yours just as much as the four walls of your apartment kept you in place but that was okay. Simon could just bring his world to you. You always had him thinking about the next letter, the next piece of his life he could give to you.

You were such a grateful little thing after all. You always took his gifts and sent back your thanks with more of your own. 

But now as he stood clutching a soiled collection of wildflowers in his fist he didn’t quite understand the confusion and fear in your eyes as he stood on at your front door.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Chekhov's Gun

Chekhov’s Gun - a dramatic principle that suggests that details within a story or play will contribute to the overall narrative.

This encourages writers to not make false promises in their narrative by including extemporaneous details that will not ultimately pay off by the last act, chapter, or conclusion.

Chekhov’s gun has become a highly influential theory of effective writing that mandates noticeable details are integrated into the plot trajectory, character development, and mood of the work.

Tips on How To Use Chekhov's Gun In Writing

Chekhov’s gun can be deployed for various purposes to indicate several different things.

Remember, Chekhov’s gun is not a literary device. It is a theory about the economy of detail within plotted narratives. It’s not something you do as much as something you follow.

To follow it, consider the details you include. This means you need to think about whether they are fits of fancy or they actively contribute to the overall plot structure.

Feel free to break the rules sometimes. Red herrings, or details included to throw the reader off subsequent plot twists, are by design details that violate Chekhov’s gun. Leaving readers to suspect the wrong person of the crime in the mystery by surrounding them with implicating but ultimately circumstantial details is an effective technique.

Foreshadow plot twists with details that, when the twist is revealed, become necessary to the story. If your main character’s mother is a serial killer, you might foreshadow this by having a character comment on her frequent trips out of town in the first chapter and her remote storage locker in the third chapter. That these details will pay off when the twist reveals itself is Chekhov’s gun in practice, the promise that emphasizing such otherwise trivial storage and travel details will ultimately prove relevant to the story.

Anton Chekhov was a 19th century writer of short stories and plays and one of the greatest authors and playwrights of the modern era. The author of Uncle Vanya and The Seagull, Chekhov has become a central figure in literary history and criticism.

The term “Chekhov’s gun” emerged from the ways Chekhov repeatedly characterized writing in letters to his contemporaries. The most famous version advises: “If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired. Otherwise don’t put it there.”

Other versions include a loaded rifle instead of a pistol, but the underlying point remains the same: if something in your narrative grabs the reader’s attention, that detail has narrative work to do and must be significant to the overall work. Otherwise, its significance is lost on the reader and authors are writing checks they can’t cash, including tantalizing details and possibilities that will ultimately go unfulfilled.

It is important to note that Chekhov’s gun is a literary concept and dramatic principle, not a rhetorical device—it is not something authors deploy, but rather a guidepost they follow.

While the principle of Chekhov’s gun is straightforward, there is some confusion around what actually constitutes Chekhov’s gun. Other tools and analytics—like MacGuffins and red herrings—are related to or follow the rules of Chekhov’s gun, but are not interchangeable with it. This confusion is best resolved by considering what details a reader will likely notice in a story.

Some details will be noticed regardless of context and the author doesn’t need to draw attention to them to get the reader to notice. A gun or other weapon, a giant diamond ring, and a mysterious briefcase, for instance, will always be noticed, whereas others, like a fedora, will not. Noticeable details should always payoff in stories, regardless of how much emphasis the author gives them.

An everyday vase will go unnoticed unless the author specifically draws them out with extended commentary and rhetoric. A floral vase on the table is easily overlooked but, if the author repeatedly draws attention to it, Chekhov’s gun dictates that this vase had better be significant to the overall story—perhaps in addition to flowers, it holds the codes to the French nuclear arsenal.

If an author doesn’t draw attention to such details, however, they do not need to follow this rule. A traffic jam in LA is nothing noteworthy and noting it in the narrative does not mean it must follow Chekhov’s gun and ultimately prove significant. If the author, however, prates and prattles about the traffic,then it falls into Chekhov’s gun territory and must prove important.

Chekhov’s gun can suggest a story is tightly woven, with emphasized details ultimately helping to shape the narrative.

Perhaps the best example of Chekhov’s gun principle in action comes from examples of Chekhov and his work. In Act I of his play The Seagull, for example, the main character carries a rifle out onto the stage. By the end of the play, he has used the riffle to commit suicide. Such a detail—a rifle, in the main character’s hand, on stage—would appear superfluous were it not to figure into the plot’s development and would have violated Chekhov’s own principle had it not been the instrument of the character’s death.

Successful literary tools and plot structures—like foreshadowing—can also be described by Chekhov’s gun, which is a rule effective foreshadow follows.

Though it is not a literary technique, Chekhov’s gun can be a useful analytical tool for critics that can be used to describe narrative shortcomings. Saying that a particular work did not adhere to Chekhov’s gun suggests the story was unfocused, concerned by insignificant details that did not figure into the larger work.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[yeehawllywood]

Recently my friend Kayla shared that her injured horse wouldn’t get on my trailer in time for his hospital imaging appointment. (Pictured) It was met with a lot of unsolicited advice and comments like “I bet I could get him to load”. I evacuate horses in every SoCal wildfire I can get there in time for, and have been trained in large animal rescue and learned loading tricks from the best. I could never confidently say I hold a match to those I learned from, but I get them out.

One thing I would like to address, that I never show on my social media, is that when I evacuate animals from wildfires, and they don’t load, it gets ugly. Owners sobbing and grabbing their belongings out of barns, panicking, agitating their animals. Blindfolded horses cutting themselves open as I slam the doors shut as soon as they step up. Friends and family being knocked on their asses, hands rope burned wide open. I will do things to get a horse on a trailer I would never do in a non-emergency situation. Everyone would rather a horse be scared or scuffed up than left behind in a fire.

I would never put a horse through that if they don’t have to. Stan was injured and had an imaging appointment at a hospital facility we can haul to. This facility was more affordable than having a vet come to us, or walking him a block down the street. After we ran up on time for the appointment, I continued to work with him to get him on my trailer. He has hauled with me before and normally loads just fine. I wanted the day to end in success even if he missed his appointment, but we decided he was too sore, let him eat from the trailer to keep it from being a negative experience, and put him away.

There’s about 5 ways to load a horse that I try, they are all individuals and prefer to be handled differently. All techniques are the same old thing, pressure and release. Pressure away from the trailer or when they pull back, release towards the trailer or when they take a step forward.

If you don’t want it to be ugly, you need to work with your horse loading. If you don’t have a trailer, some equestrian centers host clinics and if know a friend with one, and they are like me, they would be thrilled to park it at your place (or boarding facility) if you covered their trailer parking fee for the month.

Also, don’t be that guy…it’s infuriating during a wildfire to keep hearing “I could have/would have” well you weren’t there. If you could, I would have loved your help. I always appreciate another able body. But you weren’t at my camp at the fireline before they evacuated and closed the roads. 🤷 hearing it online does nothing. The most helpful you can be remotely is sending cash money to my mutual aid that pays for gas, hay, and supplies for owners & neighbors like respirators. (No need to send now, there is no fire. Just save it!)

[sidemari]

• Bun in the oven •

Some texts about you telling them that you’re pregnant and some headcanons about how they’re during the pregnancy. 

Characters included: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Keegan P. Russ, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, König, Nikto and Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader 

TW: Mild angst, mentions of abortion and insecurities, implied smut. But everything works out in the end. 

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You call him from the corner of the room, that nervous smile on your face. Soap knows right away that something big is coming — he feels it, like he senses danger on the field… But this time, it’s something different. Something good.

“Johnny… Do you remember the night you came back home after being away for so long due to that mission?” You tested the waters by avoiding telling the truth right away.

“Yeah… How could I forget that night?” He smiled warmly, his mind flashing with the images of that day. “What about it, hon?” 

“Well… You know we got carried away and…”

“And…?”

“We’re having a baby.” You finally share your secret. 

He blinks. Once. Twice. His usual playful smile disappears for a second, replaced by a stunned look, as if he’s trying to decode what he’s just heard.

“Are… are you serious?” You nod, and he… explodes with joy. He literally lifts you into the air with a surprised cry, almost laughing and crying at the same time.

“Oh my God! We’re going to be parents?! Aye, fuck, baby, is this really real?”

He kisses your forehead, then your belly, even though it hasn’t even changed yet. He murmurs a bunch of sweet things in that warm accent — promises, plans, dreams. And then he whispers very softly, just for you to hear:

“I swear I will be the best father in the world… to our baby. And the best man to you. Always.”

When the morning sickness starts, he becomes your personal bodyguard against any suspicious smells: “What the hell is that in the air?! It smells like poison, honey. Close that window!”

He researches everything about pregnancy and becomes the most emotional “expert” on the planet. He sends you messages like: “Did you know that the baby already has little fingers today? LITTLE FINGERS, BABY!”

He talks to your belly every day, telling them about his missions, his friends on the team, and asking if the baby prefers soccer or rugby: “If you kick now, it’ll be rugby, okay?”

He starts to become obsessed with photos. He takes a thousand selfies with you and your belly, even while you’re sleeping. 

He refuses to let you carry anything, literally: “Not even the bag. Not even the remote. Let me carry it, honey.”

He massages your feet every night, and even develops a ‘military relaxation technique’ just so you can sleep better.

He has a hospital bag ready with 30 unnecessary things, like three types of chocolate, a teddy bear, and a mini speaker to play Scottish music for the baby.

He’s always reminding you how beautiful you are, even when you feel uncomfortable and insecure. “No matter how big your belly is, you’ve always been the love of my life, and now you’re carrying our little miracle. And no, I don’t give a single fuck about those stretchmarks. You’re nurturing a life inside your womb and your body is adapting itself because of it. I still think you look damn hot and I’m forever thankful that those pregnancy hormones shifted you into a little insatiable thing.”

He gets touchy-feely, sometimes hugging you in the middle of the night just to say thank you. 

He makes up nicknames for the baby while he’s still in the womb, like “Little Soap”. 

He gets really emotional during the first ultrasound. He holds your hand tightly and tries not to cry… but fails miserably.

He makes special playlists with soft Scottish music, movie soundtracks and even records himself talking so the baby can hear at night.

He buys miniature army clothes, but also absurdly cute ones, like animal costumes, because “he needs to have style in the nursery”.

One day he shows up with a crib set up in the middle of the living room just because “he wanted to see if it would look nice in natural light”.

He learns to cook your favorite foods (even if it turns out to be a disaster) just so you can eat what you want safely.

He keeps notes with the dates of the first times: first kick, first time their heartbeat was heard, first photo of your belly. He’s creating a secret “dossier” of love.

He swears he’s going to be the most present father in the world. No matter how much life changes, he will always be there for you two. 

It was a quiet night at home. The sky was clear, with a million stars shining through the open window. You were sitting on the couch, with a cup of hot tea in your hands, and Soap was lying next to you, with his head on your lap, apparently tired from the intense mission of the day. The conversation was calm, but you knew it was time to tell him the news. He was so focused on caressing your stomach as you played with his hair, that he didn't notice how nervous you were.

"Did you know you're going to be the best dad in the world?" You said softly, feeling your heart race. Soap looked at you with a crooked smile, his eyes shining with evident affection.

"I have no doubt about that, love. But what do you mean, best dad? If I'm not, who will be, huh?" You laughed, but you were feeling overflowing with happiness. Suddenly, the moment was there, and it was as if time had slowed down just so he could hear your words.

"Well… I can't say who's going to be the best father, but you're the best for me, and… Our daughter is going to be very lucky." There was a pause. Soap stood up quickly, looking at you, confused, as if he hadn't quite understood. His eyes were curious, but his smile stubbornly wouldn't leave his face. 

"Wait… What?" He asked, his eyes shining even brighter. You laughed, feeling the heat rise to your face. 

"I… we're expecting a little girl." Soap's eyes widened for a moment and he was silent, processing the information. When it finally sunk in, he leaned forward, with a dazzling smile.

"A little girl?" he repeated, his voice full of disbelief. 

"Yes, a little girl," You said, your heart almost jumping out of your chest. "You're going to be the father of a little girl." And then, he simply laughed. A genuine, happy laugh, one of those laughs that seemed so honest that you felt your soul warm. He stood up from the couch, holding your hands tightly before he jumped close to you, not caring about the teacup that almost fell to the floor.

"Are you sure about this? A real little girl?" He asked again, his eyes shining with happiness.

You laughed then, finally, the feeling of nervousness disappearing. He was more excited than ever, and his happiness was contagious.

"I'm sure!" You answered, laughing along with him, the two of you hugging each other tightly. "We're going to have a daughter, Soap." He ran his hand over your belly, still not fully believing it, but with a sparkle in his eyes that didn't fade. 

"I promise that I'm going to be the best dad in the world. It's going to be a pleasure to watch our little girl grow up." You leaned back against the couch, feeling your heart beat faster. 

"I know you will." And as he continued to rub your belly, smiling like a fool and in that moment, you were more certain than ever that he was the kind of father who would do anything for her. 

Keegan P. Russ 

You hadn’t planned to tell him like this. You wanted something elaborate, symbolic… maybe a candlelit dinner, a note written in your nervous handwriting. But there, sitting on the couch, with his hand resting on your thigh and his eyes intently watching a movie, you felt the right moment — a comfortable, intimate silence, just the two of you.

“Keegan…” You began, your voice low, almost as if you were keeping a precious secret between your lips. He turned his face to you right away. He always did that — when you spoke, he listened. With his eyes, with his whole body. It was a habit of his to offer you his total presence.

“Is something wrong?” He asked immediately, already with that protective look that always came when you hesitated.

“No… it’s just...” You took his hand and brought it to your belly, as if that would be enough. Maybe it was. For a moment, he didn’t understand. He looked back at your face, at your eyes filled with unshed tears, at his hand under your still flat stomach, but which held a secret growing in silence.

“Are you...?” He didn’t finish the question, but his eyes said it all. You nodded, with a shy, uncertain, but hopeful smile. The air between you changed. He didn’t say anything for a second too long — but you saw it. His shoulders relaxed as if he had been waiting for this news without knowing. His eyes watered, and his mouth opened slowly, a whisper coming out between his lips:

“Are we becoming a family...?” The way he hugged you that night was different. It was a protective, reverent grip. As if you were made of porcelain. As if the most important miracle of his life was inside you — and it was.

The focused, meticulous soldier appeared in a new form: in nutrition spreadsheets, reminders on his phone with alarms for his snacks, vitamins, and appointments. He went with you to all of them—even when he was exhausted, even when he had just returned from a mission the day before. He sat next to you, held your hand, and listened intently to every word the obstetrician said.

Keegan was the type of person who didn’t say much, but showed it all through his actions. He learned to cook healthy meals even though he didn’t know how to cut a tomato properly at first. He would run his hands over his belly before bed every night, with a caress that felt like a silent prayer.

And when the symptoms got tough — the nausea, the aches, the bloating — Keegan didn’t run away. He showed up with tea (and if you refused to drink them, he’d force you to, saying it was for the good of the baby you were nurturing), warm blankets, and concerned eyes. He sat on the floor beside your bed when you didn’t want to talk. He was just there and it was enough. 

Sometimes, during the night, he would wake up just to check if you were still sleeping well. He would run his hand over your forehead, carefully adjusting your position, as if he could protect you even from nightmares.

Keegan, during your pregnancy, was as firm as steel and as gentle as a cozy blanket. He became your safe haven, your silent and constant guardian. He slept with his hand on your belly, talked to the baby when he thought you couldn’t hear, promised he would be there, always, that he would take care of you, that no one would ever hurt you both. 

You found him in the kitchen, cooking your latest craving: berry pie.

“Baby,” You called, leaning against the door frame. He looked up immediately, a small smile forming when he saw you there.

You walked over to him slowly, your heart racing, and pulled out the small pair of blue booties you had bought that morning.

“For when he gets here.” You said, placing the booties in his hands. A cheesy way to reveal the gender of your baby, yes, but those booties were just too cute for you to ignore. 

Keegan frowned, confused at first — until understanding dawned on him. He blinked a few times, in disbelief.

“A little boy?” He asked, almost in a choked whisper.

You nodded with an excited smile. He laughed softly, shaking his head as if he was still processing it. Then he pulled you slowly closer, resting his forehead against yours before spinning you around slowly and carefully to not make you nauseous.

“My little boy… Our little boy!” He murmured, his voice cracking with joy.

When the time arrives, Keegan is incredibly calm on the outside, but inside he is a whirlwind of emotions. He has never been so scared and so happy at the same time. He held your hand through every contraction, whispering “You can do it,” “I’m here,” “It’s going to be okay” like a mantra — as if his voice could protect you from the pain. When he heard the baby cry for the first time, his eyes filled with tears instantly. He tried to hide it, but the emotion overflowed in his eyes and in the way he smiled at you and when he held his son for the first time. He was completely mesmerized: his big fingers touched the little body with the greatest delicacy in the world, as if he was afraid of hurting his own son. 

Keegan refuses to sleep while you rest. He sits in an armchair with the baby on his lap, just observing every little detail of the newborn. When the medical team came back and found him with the baby sleeping on his chest, and you sleeping in bed, they said it looked like a scene from a movie. 

He talks to the baby even though he knows he doesn't understand: "You have your mother's eyes... And you'll be strong like her too." 

Takes pictures of the tiny feet, of the baby grabbing your finger, of you breastfeeding him, bathing him and sleeping with him and keeps them all in a folder that only he has access to.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

You realized something was wrong when you woke up with an upset stomach for two days in a row — and without having eaten anything heavy. The smell of the breakfast you loved started to make you nauseous… and that was the first warning sign. Kyle even jokingly commented: “Are you abandoning me in our sacred coffee ritual?” — and you forced a smile, pretending you weren’t worried. A few days later, you realized your period was late. A week. Then ten days. And then fifteen. And then, sweet fear hit deep in your chest.

You bought the test by yourself, on a quick trip to the pharmacy, and hid it in your purse as if it were a state secret. On a cold, slow morning, you took the test while Kyle was still sleeping. The silence in the bathroom was almost deafening as you waited the five minutes that the package indicated. Two lines. Two lines that changed everything. You stood still for long minutes, in the same position, holding the test with shaking hands and teary eyes. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. You did both. The first thing you thought was: "How am I going to tell him?" — and right after: "Will he want this with me?" 

You tried to plan a cute way to tell him. A special dinner, a little box with the test and a note. But anxiety got the best of you. You told him in a simple way, on a normal afternoon, when it was just the two of you, sitting together. He noticed something different about you, and when you shared the secret you were carrying alone, time seemed to stop.

He was sitting on the couch, his eyes softly focused on you as you walked slowly toward him, your hands clasped in front of you, as if trying to contain your racing heart. He could tell right away — you were nervous.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, his voice low, full of affection.

You nodded, but your throat was dry. You took a deep breath, then walked over and sat down next to him. His hand came naturally to yours, his warm, firm fingers wrapping around yours as if to say ‘I’m here, talk to me.’

“Kyle…” Your gaze met his, and there was so much tenderness there it almost hurt. “I’m pregnant.” For a moment, the world seemed suspended. His smile froze mid-smile, his eyes wide with surprise. You saw the emotion building there — first confusion, then a wet gleam in his eyes, as if he’d just heard something sacred.

“Are you… pregnant?” He repeated in a whisper, as if he was afraid to break the moment.

You nodded, with a small smile. His answer came in the form of a soft, almost breathless laugh, before he pulled you into a hug full of warmth and reverence. He held you as if you were made of glass, but at the same time with such intensity that your heart seemed to fit into his.

“We’re going to have a baby… Fuck’s sake!, that’s so amazing...” He whispered against your neck, as if he still couldn’t believe it. 

“Kyle… No swearing around the baby.”

“Copy that.” He smiled. “I'll be here. Every step, every beat of this little heart… I want to live it all with you.” After that, he placed his hand lovingly on your lower belly, as if he could already feel the new life you had started together. And in that moment, between soft smiles and slow kisses, the whole world seemed to fit between his arms.

He became obsessed with learning everything: he read medical articles, downloaded three different pregnancy apps, and asked the internet if certain strange food cravings were normal. 

He created a ritual: every night, he would lie with his head on her belly and whisper stories, just to “familiarize the baby with his father’s voice.” He would always say proudly: “Our baby will be born hearing the most beautiful accent in the world, honey.” 

He was so protective, but in a sweet way —  accompanying you to every appointment, carrying healthy snacks in his bag, and talking to doctors like you were a secret agent on a mission. 

When your belly started to grow, he bought funny “Loading… Baby 50%” T-shirts and forced you to wear them just to see your grumpy little face. No need to tell him they look awful, he’s already taking pictures of you. 

One day, he found you crying watching a random video of a stray dog being adopted and he just sat down with you, hugging you tightly, and getting emotional too, without even knowing why. 

He insisted on putting the crib together with his own hands. He made several mistakes, got his fingers stuck, and cursed the manual — but in the end, the crib was perfect.

When the contractions started, he went into military mode in 0.1 seconds. He grabbed the hospital bag, checked the checklist, warned everyone and took you to the hospital as if he was on a mission.

During the birth, he held your hand the whole time, letting you crush his fingers without complaining as he kept murmuring something along the lines of “Breathe with me. I’m with you.”

When the baby was born and cried for the first time, he cried too — the kind of silent, emotional cry that comes from deep in the chest.

He was paralyzed for a few seconds when he saw the baby in his arms, with teary eyes, whispering: “We did it. Look… we did it.”

You waited to find out the baby’s sex until the birth. It was a huge shock when the obstetrician said that a little boy had been born: “Hell yeah!”, he celebrated. “My little boy,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Our son...”

König

He finally returned from that mission that seemed to have no end. 

You call him by name with that soft voice that makes him feel weak to his knees. He notices something in your tone. The blue eyes fixed on yours with attention… and a hint of anxiety. “Was ist passiert, mein Schatz?” (“What happened, my love?”)

You take a deep breath, smiling with a nervousness that he immediately picks up on — and you finally say three words that change everything: 

“I am pregnant.” For a moment, he freezes. Not with rejection. Not with anger. But as if the world had gone silent. His eyes widen slightly, he takes a step back as if he’s been shocked, only to then approach you again with visible hesitation in his hands. The mask covers half of his reaction, but his eyes say it all. Pure vulnerability. The doubt of whether he deserves this. The desire to believe he still deserves to be happy. 

“Is it… mine?” He asks, his voice lower than ever.

“Of course it is, König!” 

When you say that — of course he knew it was his — König lets out a shaky sigh and puts his hands on his head, walking a few steps as if he doesn’t know what to do with his own body. Then he stops and he comes back to you. He kneels and he hugs your still-flat belly, pressing it against his face with an almost religious reverence.

“Mein Gott (My god)… you gave me a new life.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and muffled.

Then he looks down at you, with teary eyes — the intimidating giant now looking like a lost, happy boy — and says something you would never forget:

“I never thought I would have something so precious. I will take care of you. The both of you. Even if the world falls apart… you will be safe.” 

In the first few months, König is on constant alert. Every moment of nausea, every different expression on your face, makes him stop everything to check if you are okay. 

He obsessively researches pregnancy in silence, on his cell phone, reading scientific articles, forums, and even mothers' groups — all in secret, with his eyes fixed on the screen as if he were studying military tactics. 

He tries to cook for you (with… variable results), just because he read that certain foods help with morning sickness. 

When your belly starts to grow, König starts talking to you when he thinks you are sleeping. He lies down next to you, his head resting gently on your belly, murmuring in German with a sweetness that seems unthinkable for such a huge man. "Dein Vater liebt dich sehr, mein kleines Wunder..." ("Your father loves you very much, my little miracle...") 

He starts to accompany you to every medical appointment as if they were a mission, paying attention to every comment from the doctors and nurses as if his life depended on it. 

When your belly is already heavy and your steps are slower, König starts carrying you to any place that involves stairs. Literally. He doesn't even ask. He just picks you up with the greatest care in the world, as if you were made of glass. 

When you start having false contractions, he goes into a state of absolute focus—the hospital bag has been packed for weeks, the routes have been planned, the emergency numbers are posted on the fridge. But despite this, he is always kind, always calm with you, even though he is seething with nerves inside.

He has internal crises of insecurity, but he never burdens you with them. He writes everything down in a hidden notebook, as a way of letting off steam. 

You find him on the balcony, the sky tinged with gold by the sunset. König’s back is turned, still, silent, as he usually does when he’s thinking too much. His large hands are resting on the railing, his broad body almost blocking the light. He turns when he hears your footsteps, and his soft gaze immediately lands on your belly with an almost reverent affection.

You smile, and he responds with that shy little smile at the corner of his mouth, his eyes still seeming to search for more signs that you’re okay.

“What did the doctor say?” He asks in a low voice, waiting for each word as if they were sacred.

You walk towards him, slowly, feeling your heart beat faster — not from nervousness, but from excitement. Then you take one of his hands and guide it to your belly.

“She’s fine,” You begin, looking into his eyes. “And yes... I said she.”

König’s eyes blink, as if it took him a second to process.

“She...?” He whispers, almost in disbelief. You nod, smiling even wider.

“We’re having a little girl.” His breath catches for a moment. His blue eyes — usually so restrained, so trained not to show too much — shine with immediate moisture. He kneels, letting his forehead touch yours while his hands wrap around your belly with a delicacy that doesn’t match its size.

You run your fingers through his hair, feeling him snuggle closer, his arms around your waist as if he wanted to protect the two of you from the entire world.

“She’s already so loved, König. By me… and by you.”

“I… I don’t know if I’m ready. But I’ll give everything. Everything. For both of you.”

“You’re already everything she needs. And everything I need too.” 

Nikto

The truth is that you found out you were carrying his child only in the third month of pregnancy. The missions, your dangerous job, the obligations, plans and goals, your own complex relationship with Nikto… all of this was too much for you to handle. The days became weeks and the weeks became months as you just ignored the symptoms, thinking that the nausea and exhaustion would pass. But they remained very present, and your suspicion only increased.

You took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. And to be sure, you also took a blood test some days after and then, an ultrasound, which finally revealed the baby's gender: a little boy was coming into the world. You did all this without saying a word to Nikto, fearing that he would hate the news. You weren't stupid, you knew he would soon realize something was out of place. Your body was changing, your symptoms were still present, and you even avoided exposing yourself to any kind of risk, as much as possible, unlike before.

He suspected the possible reason why this was happening, but he never forced you to admit anything. Not until you were ready.

When you told him the news, at first he reacted with silence and a hard look, trying to process the information. He’s not the type to show emotion easily, so you thought he was angry or indifferent… But inside, he would be conflicted. Part of him would feel vulnerable — the idea of ​​having created a new life would hit him harder than he expected. Another part would be on edge, worried for your safety and that of the baby, since his world is too violent for something so innocent.

But he wouldn’t shy away from responsibility. He just wouldn’t know how to show he cares in the traditional way. You’d see him more protective, more present, but also more silent. His love would be shown in actions, not words.

The base was silent that night—just the hum of the generators and the occasional sound of boots echoing in the hallway. He was sitting at the table, cleaning his weapon with the meticulous precision of always, his mask pushed up to his forehead, revealing those hard eyes… but that always softened when they landed on you. You walked in slowly, your fingers intertwined in front of you, your heart beating fast.

He noticed it instantly. He dropped the metal piece on the table and watched you silently. Not like a soldier, but like a man. Your man.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, standing up immediately, his tone low but attentive.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s not that. But… I need to tell you something. And it’s important.”

His eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms, his body firm as steel, but his gaze… almost nervous.

“I’m pregnant, Nikto.”

The silence that followed was as thick as the darkness outside. He didn’t answer. He just stood there, motionless, as if time had frozen. What did you expect? A scream? A sigh? A “how did that happen?”?

None of that came.

He walked towards you, slowly, as if he were stepping on unknown land. He stopped so close that you could feel the heat of his body. His gloved hand rose to your face — it hesitated in the air for a second — and then landed with a delicacy that no one would ever imagine that man was capable of.

“My son?” He murmured, his voice so low that it seemed like a secret between you and the universe.

Son… And he even had guessed the baby gender right.

You nodded, tears in your eyes, but smiling.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, there was something there. It wasn’t fear. Or anger. It was… instinct. A raw kind of love — unconditional, protective.

"How do you…" You hugged him, and that took him by surprise. It took Nikto a few seconds to hug you back, but when he did, he stroked your hair with affection. "How do you know it's a boy?"

"Is it?"

"I mean… yeah."

"Perhaps it was just my intuition." He kissed the top of your head, wanting to protect you from the world.

“You will not leave my sight.” His voice had returned to its firm tone. “I will take care of you both. From now on.” And then, for the first time since you met him, Nikto knelt down, making himself vulnerable before you. Lifting your shirt, he pressed his lips to your slightly swollen belly, so gently that it barely seemed real. But it was. It was his promise. No pretty words. Just presence. Just surrender.

Nikto was already a controlling person by nature, but from the moment he found out about your pregnancy, he became a constant shadow by your side. He checks safe routes before you go out, monitors the environment where you sleep, and leaves discreet trackers on everything you wear “just in case.” He doesn’t say, “I’m afraid something will happen,” he just acts—as if he could take on the whole world for you and the baby.

He’s not the type to say, “You look so beautiful carrying my son” but out of nowhere you find a soft blanket on the couch, hot tea on the table, or maternity clothes in your size neatly folded on the bed. When you ask him if that was his doing, he just answers curtly, “Maybe.” But if you insist, he might say, “I like to see you comfortable.” (And he looks down, because that was the most vulnerability he could show that day.)

If you’re lying down and you let out a whimper of pain or discomfort, within seconds he’ll be there, kneeling beside the bed, pressing his hands firmly against your back. He never comments anything, he just keeps going until he feels you’ve relaxed. When you say a weak “thank you” he’ll give you a quick nod and maybe — just maybe — press a kiss against your forehead before leaving the room.

At night, when you are dozing on the couch or in bed, he will slowly come over and, if he is comfortable doing so, he will rub your belly while speaking to the baby in Russian. They are short, almost military phrases, but sweet in his own way: "Your mother is stronger than anyone. You will get this from her." Or even: "You will not know war. I swear."

Even with all his confidence, he sometimes stays silent for long periods, staring at you from afar. When you ask him, he ends up saying something like: “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. I only know how to fight.” It’s at this moment that you see his most human side. He’s not afraid of war, but he is afraid of failing you. And when you hold his hand and tell him he’s already doing more than enough, he doesn’t respond. He just squeezes your hand tightly — and doesn’t let go.

Simon “Ghost” Riley 

Hot and intense nights became common when the pressure of the world became great enough to suffocate you both.

You sought refuge in sex, night after night indulging your most primitive and sinful desires as a relatively effective, but twisted, way of enduring the horrendous reality of serving the country.

Even though you knew that being careful was relatively far from being part of your routine, you felt the world fall apart when the first symptoms began.

Nausea, fatigue and insecurity had become part of your essence and the fear of the future permeated your soul.

You tried to hide your pregnancy for as long as possible, not wanting to tell Simon, much less your team members.

Bringing an innocent life into the hell you lived was a senseless act. Then why did you feel so much love for someone who hadn't even been born yet?

You were almost four months pregnant when, during a mission, you fainted for no apparent reason. You weren't taking care of yourself enough — eating little, sleeping little and keeping so many secrets to yourself... It came as no surprise to anyone when your body couldn't handle all of that.

"Stay with me... Hey! She needs medical help!" Ghost shouted, looking around desperately, protecting your body as if you were the most fragile thing in the world at that moment.

Your consciousness slowly returned, and you realized that you were being carried by him to a safer place.

"I'm sorry." You stammered, feeling guilty for having interrupted the gathering of such important information.

"Don't apologize. I've never seen you so pale and weak like this, not even on worse missions." You were finally in a calmer place, still alone with him, and before other people entered the room to check on you, you decided it was time to tell him the truth.

"Simon, I..." You hesitated, wondering for a moment if being honest with him was really what you wanted.

"You...?" He encouraged you, squeezing your thigh affectionately, as usual.

"I... I'm pregnant." His eyes widened, and his grip on your thigh tightened, almost hurting you.

"What...?" He mumbled to himself, slowly fitting the pieces of the puzzle together and everything made sense — your extreme sensitivity to the tastes and smells that you usually liked, your endless naps, your hurried and unannounced trips to the bathroom, your lack of complaints about cramps, almost as if you hadn't had your period that month... It all made sense, and his head almost exploded.

"How did I not notice?" He whispered, pulling you close, hugging you tightly as if he wanted to protect you from all the evil in the world. "How far along are you?"

"Almost four months." You mumbled against his chest as he stroked your hair lovingly. "I think it was on your birthday..." 

That night... That fateful night.

"How are you feeling about this?"

"I... I don't know what to think..." Your hands involuntarily went down your body, caressing the slightly swollen belly due to the life that was developing there. "But I love them so much already..."

He smiled against your hair, hugging you tighter, a genuine happiness slowly forming inside his heart.

"I'm scared, Si." You admitted. "I'm scared of bringing them into this world only to suffer and see horrible things like the two of us."

"Hey, don't say that. Even in hell I found you. I found someone worth fighting for and waking up to everyday. Life isn't all bad, you taught me that yourself." You didn't answer, but he understood what you meant.

"Regardless of your decision — whether you’re keeping them or not — I will support you and stay by your side. Until my last breath." And he kissed the top of your head.

You couldn't muster the courage to abort that life. They were the fruit of the love between you and Simon and they were the best thing you had.

So you decided to keep it, to face the consequences of your acts, to carry the responsibility of bringing a life into this world. 

Months passed without you wanting to know the baby's sex, until Simon convinced you to investigate it.

"Guess." You murmured against his lips, your hands cupping his cheeks.

"Hmm, I have a feeling it's a girl." He secretly longed for one. You guided his hand so he could feel the baby moving, kicking you weakly every now and then.

"It's a girl! We're having a little girl, Si!" His heart fluttered with joy.

"Bloody hell, love... Fuck, I love her so much already. I can't wait to finally meet her."

He has a habit of murmuring sweet nothings your swollen stomach as his fingertips caresses the skin of your belly.

He doesn't let you lift a finger to do almost anything and he even asked captain Price not to allow you to leave the base for any more missions. He couldn't bait to lose both of you.

He helps you with your craving and pregnancy pains —  his massages are divine and melt away any tension you may be feeling.

Close to delivery, when you can no longer bear the weight of your very own stomach, he holds your belly gently with both hands, slowly freeing you from the weight of your little girl for a few seconds — seconds that relieve you absurdly.

Actually cries when he sees his baby for the first time — she's just so tiny, all wrapped around a blanket and her baby clothes, her foot is barely the size of his thumb and she's a little carbon copy of him in appearance. He's utterly glad you decided to keep her over five months ago. He couldn't imagine a world where you three didn't exist anymore.

He is completely disarmed by his daughter. He can face any enemy without hesitation, but if she cries in the morning or asks for something with that look in her eyes, he simply melts.

Protection is his second name. He checks locks, cameras, and sleeps lightly, as if he was still in the field. But the truth is that he just wants to make sure that nothing will hurt the two people he loves most in the world.

As your husband (fucking finally, right?), Simon is silent… but constant. He doesn't need big words; he shows it with actions. Coffee ready, blanket pulled up in the middle of the night, arm around waist without saying anything. He is simply perfect.

[traincat]

a genuine question why do people keep saying johnny is gay instead of bi? like i get it and i agree BUT why not bi?

Honestly I think this is one of those things that is totally up to personal interpretation, considering the weird Queer Grey Area Johnny lives in. I think he's gay, though I've gone back and forth over the years, but if other people want to think he's bi/pan, I don't think that's a wrong interpretation, either. (I do not control how other people label the Human Torch's sexuality, etc.)

I think, for me, what's swung my personal read on the character to gay over the years is just like, the extreme lack of actual demonstrated attraction to women. Johnny says he's attracted to women. Loudly! Frequently! Through the bullhorn! Is there a camera turned his way! Oh God please someone believe him. But when confronted with an attractive woman who wants to be intimate with him, he may go along with it, but sooner or later he's going to start ghosting.

(FF v3 #55) "'Scuze me -- I had this funny idea a guy was supposed to spend time with his girlfriend."

Look at his marriage, for example. Not the Skrull retcon stuff, although I do think that ultimately comes into play -- I'm talking about two things. There's, first off, the extreme sexlessness of the honeymoon.

(FF #301 and #302) I'm not saying like, nobody goes hiking on their honeymoon. I'm sure there's avid hikers enjoying romantic hikes out there. I'm saying that this is Johnny Storm and he's out there backpacking and visiting artist communes. Peter and Mary Jane, by comparison, were making the beast with two backs on a beach in France. (I actually really like #302 as an issue, it has a fun concept, but it does kind of highlight how Unsexy Johnny and Alicia are as a couple. The chemistry of styrofoam.)

Then there's the Crystal Emotional Affair.

(FF #305) "So things did work out in the long run!" Oh yeah you guys are gonna be real normal about each other.

(FF #317)

This never goes anywhere, mostly because of Johnny. I don't doubt Crystal would have upheld the most holiest of marital duties: cheating. (I love Crys, I just think her love 'em and leave 'em tendency is funny.) There's a lot of melodramatic bemoaning here -- she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen! She regrets her decision to leave him! They're angsting about it in the shower. Separate. Separate showers. Because this never goes anywhere even remotely physical, because Johnny Would Never Cheat On His Wife, as he says. Repeatedly.

It's important to look at the issue numbers here: Johnny and Alicia only got together in #275. They got married in #300. By #305, Johnny is basically emotionally clawing at the walls to get out of his marriage, falling back on old romances, which is something of a tendency. When Crys dumped him, after all, he tried to get back with Dorrie Evans. Nothing happened there, either.

And then much later on, when Crystal does come onto him, he's not into it.

(Marvel Knights 4 #30)

Again, there's a pattern here. After Frankie Raye left him (for Galactus), he pursued her roommate Julie Angel hard -- albeit chastely. But when Julie does kiss him, he's suddenly "over her." Johnny talks the talks but he rarely walks the walk.

(FF #236) Out of curiosity, I wanted to see what Peter was doing romantically around this exact time. Peter's a useful yardstick here because whatever else you want to headcanon about him, he's definitely romantically and sexually interested in women, and consistently portrayed that way. At this point in time (roughly late 1981), Peter was embroiling himself in a love triangle with his fellow grad students, Marcy Kane and Deb Whitman, and then also getting back together with Black Cat. He should be classified a menace against women. But while Peter is referencing cunnilingus techniques in scenes with his wife, Johnny's most overt sexual reference from his own marriage is that he's going to "darn Alicia's socks." And that's not even Johnny! That's in an imagined world that never happened! We know they were sleeping together, because Johnny certainly believes it's possible that Lyja could have been pregnant, but there's no passion between Johnny and Alicia during the marriage. And if it was just the marriage, I could write that off as him not being attracted to Alicia specifically. But it's not just the marriage.

Johnny is constantly portrayed as someone who wants to be in love, but once he's in that relationship, there's always a barrier or an obstacle. He's probably his happiest in his initial relationship with Crystal which is, uh, unfortunate, because that started when he was roughly 19 and ended at latest in his very early 20s. (Again, we're dating him by dating Peter, here -- Johnny got married very shortly before Peter did, and Peter got married, by his own statement, five years after he started college, so he was roughly 23. Johnny would also have been 23 or 24 when he got married. This means MJ was 22 when she got married oh my God put her back in that club.) And Johnny and Crystal are very cute!

(FF #64 and #67) They're adorable. But they're kids. Just because Johnny had a Pinterest board for his Plaza wedding at age 19 doesn't mean it was going to work.

Then there's Frankie -- obviously, Frankie and Johnny were not doing anything, because whenever Frankie takes off her clothes she's got a whole gold bodysuit under there. Once the reveal with her powers happens, Johnny is disturbed by Frankie's more violent tendencies. Then she leaves him for Galactus. His next "big" relationship is Alicia/Lyja, and that's. You know, that's a whole thing. After that, things never REALLY get off the ground again. There's relationships! But they don't go anywhere. This is also when the Playboy Johnny persona emerges, as shallow as it is, and while I do think there's enough evidence to headcanon that as Johnny's trauma response to the Skrull marriage, honestly it's probably just because Marvel's cadre of largely male writers in the late '90s and early '00s couldn't imagine a single blond pretty boy wouldn't be a raging skirt chaser. I'm going to address this in more detail in a reply to a different ask, but I personally believe in something called the Johnny Effect where I give every new Fantastic Four writer post-Claremont something like the first few issues to adjust to writing Johnny. There's usually a slide into a more honest look at the character after that point. Which I get -- there's characters where, after you write them for a while, you start thinking about them more in depth, and I think that's what happens with Johnny.

The third thing for me is like -- I've talked about this before but there's the history of violation linked to Johnny and intimacy. In some way, in a lot of his relationships (although not all), Johnny is lied to, has his boundaries violated, or is flat out assaulted. This isn't solely with women, granted. Daken Akihiro, Wolverine's son, engineers their (word of author canon) relationship by shooting him through the thigh with an arrow and pinning it on Bullseye. But I would not call that an isolated incident on the other party's side. It's just that it does happen a lot with women, including women he's had relationships with.

(FF #46 and #49) That's an alternate Frankie Raye, but still. You have the kiss with Psionics at the end of that arc, only for Psionics' next appearance to involve her killing one of Johnny's good friends in front of him while threatening the lives of his niece and nephew. There's a certain level of melodrama expected in romantic relationships with comics, but Johnny's drama often crosses a line in a way Peter's "bad girl" drama with, say, Felicia, doesn't. I think you could trace a lot of this back to the unaddressed aspects of the Lyja plotline, but not all of it.

Other characters just also euphemistically call him gay.

(Hulk vs Thing: Hard Knocks #3) Why does the Hulk think he's gay.

I swung around to thinking he's just not attracted to women at all through a lot of rereads and writing various meta posts and just generally thinking about him, but again, that's not like, I can't make any rules here, I can just make my own case. If other people want to view him as bi, I think you could make a case, too. From my perspective, there's a lack of demonstrated attraction to women (even the weird Sexy Cosplayers scene in Miller's run is a set up so a film crew can walk in on him and he abandons them at the first opportunity) and a lack of emotional intimacy to a lot of his relationships when compared to his Very Heterosexual Male Friendships. For me, I think what's going on with Johnny is that he was put in this role as a teenager of the Celebrity Teen Heartthrob, and he was at least somewhat aware at that point in time that the Fantastic Four's security depended heavily on both him and Sue being desirable to fans. But boyband-types grow up, and Johnny has struggled to match his image to what's "desirable" to his current market group -- but he knows it involves him in a high profile relationship with a woman, and that's where a lot of his post-Alilyja relationships have come from. (Darla, Kourtney, Nita, etc.) I think Dark Wolverine demonstrated that if Johnny's in the closet, it's not to his family. They know what's going. It's the rest of the world Johnny keeps himself closeted over, because he links his high flying heartthrob image to safety.

(Daken: Dark Wolverine #4) "Is peace hard to come by for you?"

But again, sexuality headcanons -- and again, Johnny is not canon-by-corporate queer -- are personal. These are just my thoughts on the subject.

(FF v6 #5) "Be brave, Johnny Storm."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I see a lot of people saying that Azul can cook well, but the I see some others saying that no, Floyd is actually the only one who can cook but THEN someone says that Floyd actually can't cook and it's Jade who does that, so could you say what is actually true? The game is not available in my country so the best acess i have to the source material is YouTube videos, and they don't cover everything

Of the Octatrio, Azul is the one with the least cooking experience. He's not Lilia levels of catastrophic in the kitchen though! Azul is familiar with cooking techniques and prides himself on his sense of taste. He's able to tell which flavors will go well together (Apprentice Chef vignettes) and can even discern ingredients by smell or taste (Glorious Masquerade, Dorm Uniform vignettes, etc.) However, he lacks hands-on cooking experience. Azul is able to follow a recipe and recreate it, but, again, lacks the finesse of a trained chef. For example, he doesn't know how to get a proper grip on a knife. It's easy for others to mistake him for a skilled cook because of how he carries himself with confidence and due to his own mother being a successful restaurant owner.

Jade and Floyd both cook and are reasonably skilled at it; Jade works in the Mostro Lounge kitchen every day, but it's actually Floyd who is supposed to be the chef. (Problem is, Floyd doesn't always consistently do his job, so Jade often has to take over and cover for him.)

The ghost chefs commend Jade for having the basics down, but Jade insists that he has much room for improvement. Indeed, we see him learning new recipes and methods of preparation in his Apprentice Chef vignette as well as in Ruggie's School Uniform vignette. Jade is also in the habit of experimenting with his food by adding the forgeables from various hiking trips. For example, the weeds he picks can be brewed as teas served at the lounge (his Bloom Boom vignettes), and he also incorporates mushrooms into menu items (his Labwear vignettes).

Floyd is described by the ghost chefs as a student that demonstrated exceptional culinary skills, so I'd consider him the best of the Octatrio, despite the impression he may give off. In his Apprentice Chef vignettes, Floyd is able to put his own unique spin on a recipe and make something even more delicious as a result--and barely even trying! He is also able to cook delicious foods when trapped on a remote island--food so good that stubborn ol' Riddle literally begs him to have seconds (Lost in the Book with Stitch). You could even say Floyd a cooking genius, albeit he is very casual about it. Again though, the only problem is whether or not he'll be in the mood to cook consistently! (When Azul nags Floyd for his behavior, Floyd actually tells him off for nagging him since Azul doesn't do any cooking.)

In summary:

Azul: least cooking experience but eager to learn more, familiar with techniques, has a good sense of taste, can follow a recipe

Jade: cooks for the Mostro Lounge, always looking to learn new recipes and methods of cooking, often experiments with things he collected from his hiking trips

Floyd: (inconsistently) cooks for the Mostro Lounge, a highly skilled chef, able to cook on the fly and reimagine recipes very easily to make them even tastier

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

So let's flip the entire what if mc can't keep up and ask what if all of your characters can't keep up with the mc?

AHAHAHA LOVE THIS! 🤣🤣🤣

Morkai: *aggressively chugs smoothies and herbal concoctions meant for stamina, trains for endurance, would rather be caught dead than admit he can't keep up

Straasa: *will frantically try to use hands, toys, his mouth, anything to give himself some time to recuperate. If nothing works, will plead and bargain for his life

Manerkol: *will FIND a way to make it work. There's magic, there's hidden knowledge--some way to keep up! If nothing works, might start considering if the MC is the one who needs to do alterations... But really, will not stop until the problem is solved somehow

Daelynn: *is actually super shocked that someone has a bigger appetite than her and will enthusiastically cheer the MC on. Doesn't matter if she's barely moving, keep going

Eledwen: *would actually find a way to recharge and keep up through sheer willpower. Watch her unlock secret Dragon powers simply because she must and will accept nothing else

Sielthan: *has zero survival instincts in this regard, so will keep going until they drop. Is super surprised every time it happens, but never stops going until they faint

Rai: *always strives for excellence, so will get creative to get the job done. If they can't keep up with the quantity, then they gotta make the quality so explosive that you pass out

Zach: *will slap a toy onto you that provides stimulation, and you're not allowed to take it off until they say so. They hold the remote, so prepare to be buzzed at the worst possible times

Cy: *is impressed and believes you deserve a reward for such an excellent drive, so they'll be in your head and making you come nonstop, no need for touching

Mornie: *ties you up to the bed and smirks as she suggests you work on some deep breathing and meditation techniques. Watches you struggle with sadistic glee