#be added by one of the two of them. i think it establishes something... its love and care put into something.

[pyrriax]

hello tungle. what do we think of this.

[peaktora]

𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).

a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here

p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!

"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.

your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”

he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."

clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.

you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.

he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."

“what are y—“

“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”

"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.

he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."

you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"

he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."

two can play that game.

“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.

he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.

or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.

"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.

you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”

you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.

“satoru—”

“what happened to nicknames?”

“satoru.”

"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"

"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."

"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”

"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"

“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”

“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.

his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”

“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”

“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”

you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“

he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“

you tsk, making him drop his excuse.

“wh—“

"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.

you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.

before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.

the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.

“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.

"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."

you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”

“i love you more.”

[prokopetz]

In recent posts I've complained that a lot of tabletop RPGs which toss around the term "fiction first" don't actually understand what it means, and I've been asked to expand on that complaint. So:

In my experience, there are two ways that game texts which want to position themselves as "fiction first" trip themselves up, one obvious and one subtle.

The first and more obvious pitfall is treating "fiction first" as an abstract ideology. They're using "fiction first" as a synonym for "story over rules" in a way that calls back to the role-playing-versus-roll-playing discourse of the early 2000s. The trouble is, now as then, nobody can usefully explain what "story over rules" actually entails. At best, they land on a definition of "fiction first" that talks about the GM's right to ignore the rules to better serve the story, which is no kind of definition at all – it's just putting a funny hat on the Rule Zero fallacy and trying to pass it off as some sort of totalising ideology of play.

A more useful way of defining "fiction first" play is to think of it not in terms of whether you engage with the rules at all, but in terms of when they're invoked: specifically, as a question of order of operations.

Suppose, for example, that you're playing Dungeons & Dragons, and you pick up the dice and say "I attack the dragon". Some critics would claim that no actual narrative has been established – that this is simply a bare invocation of game mechanics – but in fact we can infer a great deal: your character is going to approach the dragon, navigating any inclement terrain which lies between them, and attempt to kill the dragon using the weapon they're holding in their hand. The rules are so tightly bound to a particular set of narrative circumstances that simply invoking those rules lets us work backwards to determine what the context and stakes must be for that invocation of the rules to be sensical; this, broadly speaking, is what "rules first" looks like.

Conversely, let's say that your game of Dungeons & Dragons has confronted you with a pit blocking your path, and you want to make an Athletics check to cross it. At this point the GM is probably going to stop you and say, hold up, tell us what that looks like. Are you trying to jump across it? Are you trying to climb down one wall of the pit and up the other? Are you trying to tie a rope to the halfling and toss them to the other side? In other words, before you can pick up the dice, you need to have a little sidebar with the GM to hash out what the narrative context is, and to negotiate what can be achieved and what's at stake if you mess it up; this, broadly, is what "fiction first" looks like.

At this point I know some people are thinking "wait, hold on – both of those examples were from Dungeons & Dragons; are you saying that Dungeons & Dragons is both a rules-first game and a fiction-first game?" And yeah, I am. That's the second, more subtle place where game texts that talk about "fiction first" go astray: they talk about it as though being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which is inherent to game systems as a whole.

This is not in fact true: being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which describes particular invocations of the rules. In practice, only very simple games spend all of their time in one mode or the other; most will switch back and forth at need. Generally, most "traditional" RPGs (i.e., the direct descendants of Dungeons & Dragons and its various imitators) tend to operate in rules-first mode in combat and fiction-first mode out of it, though this is a simplification – when and how such mode-switching occurs can be quite complex.

Like any other design pattern, "fiction first" mechanics are a tool that's well suited for some jobs, and ill suited for others. Sometimes your rules are fine-grained enough that having an explicit negotiation and stakes-setting phase would just be adding extra steps. Sometimes you're using the outputs of the rules a narrative prompt, and having to pin the context down ahead of time would defeat the purpose. Fortunately, you don't have to commit yourself to one approach or the other; as long as your text is clear about how you're assuming a given set of rules toys will be used, you can switch modes as need dictates. However, you're not going to be capable of that kind of transparency if you're thinking in terms of "this a Fiction First™ game".

(Incidentally, this is why it can be hard to talk about "fiction first" with OSR fans if you're being dogmatic about fiction-first framing being an immutable feature of particular games. Since traditional RPGs tend to observe the above-described rules-first-in-combat, fiction-first-out-of-combat division, and OSR games tend to treat actually getting into a fight as a strategic failure state, a lot of OSR games spend most of their time in fiction-first mode. If you go up to an OSR fan and insist that D&D-style games can never be fiction-first, then attempt to define "fiction first" for them and proceed to describe how they usually play, they'll quite justifiably conclude that you have your head up your ass!)

[cryptidghostgirl]

Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.

Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.

Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.

If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).

That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.

As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.

Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.

Enjoy!

A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.

Word Count: 1,752

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

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Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.

Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.

Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.

Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.

The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.

Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.

It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.

The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.

"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"

It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.

"I am everything."

They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.

"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"

The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.

"It is the truth."

A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.

"Yeah, alright."

"Who are you?"

"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"

The demon shrugged.

"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."

"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."

Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.

He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.

"I told you."

"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"

The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you let me catch you."

"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."

"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."

The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.

"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.

Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.

"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."

He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.

They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.

"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."

"And you are?"

"No."

"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.

"Far from it. I don't like being seen."

"But you're letting me see you."

"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."

Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.

"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."

"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."

Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.

"I have power enough."

"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"

"Are you suggesting a deal?"

The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.

"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."

"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.

"Not on purpose but I supose so."

The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.

"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."

"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."

A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."

Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.

"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."

"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Not at all."

The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.

"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."

"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.

He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.

"We all take what we are given."

"I suppose."

Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.

"If you will be the face, I will be the force."

"No soul binding."

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."

Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.

"Not an overlord yet."

----

tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0

[flwerswrld]

relationship headcannons ୨୧ | hsr men

cw: lowercase intended, tooth rottingly fluffy, slight crack if u squint, gender neutral!reader, established relationship for all characters, grumpy x sunshine if you squint (caelus), sick!reader (dan heng), dan heng being a worrywart, marriage #4lifers >_< (welt), flustered geppie, ooc for probably all of them...😞 whoopsies i haven't written fanfic in like 4-5 yrs

character/s included: caelus, dan heng, welt, gepard landau

caelus ♡

- biiiiig cuddler :3

- like this man is ON YOU.

- march has multiple photos of you two attached to the hip (one where u guys were literally HANDCUFFED to each other. caelus wanted to try the idea out, might write a whole other fic just on that)

- literally anything could remind him of you

- he sees a bag of chips? oh, they're y/n's fav, oh i'm thinking of my partner now, oh how i love my partner :3

- ^ literally his thought process

- adding to the last point, he'll find or buy random things to give to you because he thought you'd like it/it reminded him of you

"caelus, are these... cat keychains?" you ask, the gift random, but definitely not unwelcomed, conveyed by the growing smile on your face. "they reminded me of us." he replies, his shoulders moving up and down in a noncommittal shrug. "i'm the orange cat, and you're the black cat."

well... now that you look at it, the keychains do remind you of you and caelus' relationship dynamic. the ginger cat— a tabby, it seems, is laying on the black cat's belly affectionately, the aforementioned feline having an annoyed frown on its face.

"it's cute." pressing a kiss to his cheek, your then soft smile grows into something more joyful. "thank you for the sweet gift, caelus."

and caelus swore to the aeons themselves that he was having heart palpitations from the feeling of your lips on his cheek.

dan heng ♡

- way less affectionate compared to how caelus is, not because he doesn't love you, but because he's more reserved

- doesn't mean he doesn't cuddle, he loves it when you and him have a nice snuggle sesh after a stressful day (but shhhh don't tell him i told you, it's supposed to be a secret 🤫)

"you're sure you don't need more tea?"

- prefers to show you his affections through acts of service rather than words or physical touch

- he's so dorky ugh i want him so bad

"dan heng, i'll be fine—" another coughing fit ensued, the hacking so intense dan heng backs away. "yep, more tea for you." he mumbles under his breath. "and more soup."

he reminds me of a mother hen... you think, sipping on your mug of tea that your lovely boyfriend had made for you. the beverage is hot and relaxing, feeling like a smoldering fire was in your belly whenever you swallow it.

"you know..." you start when he comes back inside your room, looking at your boyfriend with a hint of a smirk on your face. "you remind me of a mother hen, sometimes."

and you almost laugh at the disgruntled expression that appears on his stupidly handsome face. "i do not act like a mother hen—"

"oh, come on! you know you do, babe!"

with his cheeks turning a shade of light pink at the nickname, he sighs. "you can call me whatever you want, just drink your tea, for the love of aeons." he replied begrudgingly. "then give me a kiss!" you shoot back, weakly puckering your lips. "then i'll drink my tea, eat my soup, and then take a niiiiiice long nap."

dan heng stands there for a second, weighing his options. on one hand, he gets to kiss his partner — whom he loves very dearly he might add — to get them to eat their soup and drink the tea he had prepared for them. the only problem is that they're sick.

oh, fuck it.

pressing a kiss to your lips, he sighs into it, pulling away after a few seconds. "there. better now?" he asks.

he got sick two days later, but to him it was worth it.

welt ♡

- this man KNOWS how to treat someone right. i just know it in the deepest parts of my soul.

- shows you the animations that he made when he worked as an animator (it probably has 12 episodes, only 1 season, and ended on a cliffhanger 😞)

- HE DRAWS YOU. IDC. his sketchbook is full of drawings of you, random things he sees while out on his travels with you and the express, and other random doodles

- loves sightseeing with you. every time you go to a new planet you guys take pictures together at every tourist spot

- slow dancing w/ him to frank sinatra... it'd be so cute??? STOP STOP EVERYONE SHUT UP FOR 2 SECONDS. ☹️☹️

you felt like life was perfect right now.

with all the drama on penacony being over, you and welt finally had some free time to just chill out and take a breather.

"this is so nice..." you mumble to yourself, the metal of your ring softly pressing against the skin of your finger as your hands rest on welt's shoulders. "slow dancing is so romantic, don't you think?" welt asks, smiling down at you as frank sinatra records play in the background.

"are you trying to seduce me, mr. yang? even after years of marriage?" you ask, smiling when he spins you around slowly to the soft voice of frank sinatra, and the romantic melodies of the instruments. "and what if i am, mx yang?" he leans down in your ear to mumble, his tone teasing, maybe a bit... mischievous?

when the record stops spinning, welt holds you close to him, heat radiating off of him like a radiator. "hm, you're warm." you mumble, letting out a yawn. "like a heater."

hearing your husband let out a little chuckle, he smiles down at you. "you say this every time we hug."

"is it romantic, though?"

there was a pregnant pause, as if welt was deciding on what to say.

"do you want me to be honest or nice...?"

"welt!"

gepard landau ♡

- he's soooo protective ik it :[ like he's always keeping an eye on you while he's on patrol to make sure you're safe (not in a stalker way, just looking out for you bc he cares (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠))

- gets you something on every holiday, even if it doesn't count as a ‘holiday’. for every valentine's day he buys you chocolates and a cute little teddy bear 🥹🥹 he's so cute

- bc he's so busy with belobog duties(??), he doesn't have much time for dates

- so for the time he does have off, he'll spend with you!! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

- serval is also you and gepard's biggest supporter, and lowkey played matchmaker with you two so you guys could get together

"aww, geppie! this is so cute!" you say, smiling at the rose bouquet and chocolates he had gotten you for valentine's day.

"serval actually suggested for me to buy you them..." the blonde replied, a mixed pile of mush and flustered mumblings underneath his breath. "she said your favourite flowers are roses, so i tried to find the best ones in belobog for you."

you actually think your heart is going to explode. or that you're going to squeeze your boyfriend to death from his cuteness.

and that's exactly what you do, making a mental note to thank serval the next time you see her.

"gepard, you're the best!" you exclaim, leaning your head onto his chest.

"don't mention it, y/n..." he mumbles, praying to qilpoth that you can't hear the relentless beating of his heart, the thumpity thump of it so profound he can feel it in his ears. "it's my duty as your boyfriend to give you gifts."

you also make another mental note: to wife this man up as soon as possible.

[infamous-if]

To Gender Select, or to Not Gender Select

So as everyone knows, I'm using the opportunity for this rewrite to really step back and look at what I have so far. I have just subscribed to the whole "follow my gut" thing and for the last two months or so, my gut has been telling me something.

For context, I created Orion (and I have mentioned this a couple times when I first opened this blog) that he came to me fully formed. While other ROs were more of a puzzle that appeared more and more fleshed out with every detailed I added, Orion was like a jenga block tower that grew more and more unsteady every time I changed a detail about him. He just came to me exactly as he was and I didn't really think beyond that. For example, with G, pieces of both Gina and Griffin came to me at the same time and G isn't G without both versions. With Orion he was just...Orion.

But lately—and this was not without many suggestions asking for it!—I've been playing around with the idea of a female version of his character.

One of my biggest things was to make sure that this wasn't a matter of just changing a variable. When it comes to my gender selectable ROs, I want to make sure I'm including the subtleties and nuances that come with being a man/woman in the public eye, especially for O. Their route is heavily centered around the idea of professionalism and...other things I can't mention and I think it'd be super interesting to add another component of being a woman, not only typically stern and taciturn but in a dominant position in music mostly taken up by men. Which is why, in the rewrite, there will be lines that are unique to Orion and unique to her. Reactions that are different, conversations that change. People who continue to romance Orion will prob not see a difference.

Not only does it separate them as two different people, it creates some distance from Orion, who is an established and beloved character already. I want his female counterpart to stand on her own as her own character.

Just because they have the same route does not mean they are the same person. I've always said that about my gender selectable characters.

This was not a spur of the moment decision. I was thinking about this for a while. I just needed to make sure every piece of Orion's route would make sense for her, and I do believe it does.

I've also been told many times how many people like Orion's route and the whole "manager-client" trope but are unable to play it as they are not attracted to men. I think this would be a nice addition and a way to make it more inclusive/give more people more routes to play!

The things I have written for Orion will probably stay the same since they've been written. Everything after the rewrite will have both options to select from.

So meet Oriana Quinn. With a short black bob usually greased back and a perfectly pressed suit, Oriana is as intimidating as she is determined. Yes, she's just as tall and muscular as her male counterpart and as obsessed with the gym as he. Her route with Cory will be different in its nature (since Cory is straight) but...guess we'll see!

fun fact: The beauty of Oriana being the name is that coincidentally, it also has to do with the sky. One of my requirements for finding a name like Orion's was that it was sky themed since it does come up. It almost seems like fate! haha

TLDR: Orion will be gender selectable. If you have plans to romance Orion and Orion alone, this will make no difference to you. For those who were hoping for this, I hope this news makes Infamous a bit more enjoyable for you! <3

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mino

Debut: Tetris Worlds

While researching for last week's post, I discovered something amazing. Something I haven't been able to stop thinking about. No matter what, my mind always comes back to

Tetris Lore

Now, I'm not going to act like Tetris has an overarching story, or that the story of one game is at all relevant to the other games. Tetris Worlds is just one game, and its story is self-contained. But the fact that this Tetris game has a story at all is really incredible!

What would you expect from a Tetris game with a story? Maybe something like, the Tetriminos are all best friends living in Block World, but one day, wuh woh! There's a Bad Guy who's a sphere who hates cubes or something! Luckily, with the power of our friendship and Tetris skills, we can teach him a lesson and banish him once more... or perhaps make a new friend? :)

Please watch the introductory cutscene of Tetris Worlds.

These are the Minos! Minos, in this canon, are a species of cycloptic cubes with fascinating cycloptic faces on their forward-facing faces. I absolutely adore them already. And wouldn't you know it, their sun is going supernova and they are all going to die if they can't evacuate their planet in time. HUH???

This story is so fascinating! I am SO happy that someone came up with this when tasked with making a story for a Tetris game. There was a creative vision, and it appears to be fully realized in this short but unforgettable intro to what could have easily been just another Tetris game!

You get to have a Mino as an avatar! This could be YOU! You can make them wear a funny hat as they hover and squash and stretch on the sidelines while you play Tetris!

The game's manual explains even more about the Minos, most notably that they are MECHANICAL! These things just keep getting better! Living, cycloptic cubes, with an entire futuristic society, and they're machines. The manual also feels the need to remind us that they were probably made by organic beings, as "most" mechanical beings are. And I find that suspiciously specific...

Look at this fish! This mechanical, cycloptic Mino fish. This was not in the Xbox version's intro, but it was in the PS2 one! For whatever reason, the two had unique animation in their intros, despite using the same voiceover. This fish is shown emerging from water onto land, where it beholds the Tetrions, the sacred and powerful portals in which the game of Tetris takes place. The visual of a fish coming onto land is such in-your-face evolution imagery that I am ENTIRELY convinced that these fish were ancestors of the Minos who would later form civilization! Natural, evolving robots!

...and then this intro goes on to depict the Minos as having TWO eyes. Yeah ok. Sure. I will confidently declare these binocular blockheads as non-canon based on everything else we've seen, ESPECIALLY because the actual gameplay even depicts cycloptic Minos!

Some of them seem to be established characters. This is Izabela. Hi Izabela!

Are you on the edge of your seat, hoping our friends the Minos survive? They do! Savvy Tetris skills allow them to activate the Tetrions (which were left behind by an ancient space-faring civilization. In case you were wondering) and teleport to other planets. Minos live! Hooray. And now you know the Tetris Lore, and can think about it constantly like I do!

Lastly, I made this little image of the Mino leader from Worlds, in the style of a Tetris Friends avatar! I like to think some cross-promotional avatars could have been added if Worlds came out during the lifespan of Tetris Friends. I can only hope that at least someone at The Tetris Company remembers this incarnation of the Minos, and that they could possibly appear in a game once more!

[comicaurora]

Hey Red, I'm trying to build a better understanding of mathematics, because to my mind math has always been a collection of arcane sigils that I had to memorize to pass tests in school. I must know how these sigils came to be and why they mean what they mean. Are there any resources you recommend I use in my pursuit of these secrets? Please and Thank You 🙏

It's good you described math as something you "build," because I think that's the best analogy possible.

Mathematics, in its purest form, involves no memorization. Math is the process of taking a very small number of established truths and defined operations that preserve truth, and using those operations on your established truths to expand your space of known truths. As long as you start from a point of truth and only use operations that preserve truth, you will derive truths. If you understand the base principles from which a branch of math is constructed, you can rederive it from first principles. Memorization is easier, but you can rederive it.

For instance, we can start with two things, the number "1" and the operation "+". 1 means "a single thing" and + means "put them together." If those two concepts exist, then we also have 2, 3, 4, and every other positive integer, because we can derive them by using + on as many 1s as we want. If we drop a rock on an empty patch of ground, and then drop a rock on that same patch of ground, that patch of ground now has two rocks on it.

If we include within the definition of "+" that there exists an identity value 0, and every value has an inverse that when added to it produces zero, we also get 0 and all the negative integers, producing the group of integers. Every integer can be expressed using nothing but the number 1, the + operation, and its inverse - if we're feeling spicy.

If we decide to add another truth-preserving operation, "*", with identity value 1 and the same kind of inverse property that "+" has, we rederive every rational number. Every number in this field of rational numbers can be described as a combination of 0s and 1s using only + and * and their inverses; truthful objects combined in truth-preserving operations. We started from the truth and we used it as our only building material to create something equally truthful.

We can memorize a multiplication table, but multiplication is just iterated addition. If we forget, we can just do the addition again.

Algebra is a simple rearrangement of a simple beginning math problem by way of other truth-preserving operations. When you're starting out, you might expect to see something like

3 + 5 = ?

Algebra starts when we replace "?" with a placeholder, "x". This is just a change of terminology. It preserves truth.

3 + 5 = x

This isn't what most algebra problems look like, though. Most basic algebra problems look more like

3x + 7 = 31

But these two formulae are the same, because we can turn one into the other through operations that preserve truth.

3x + 7 = 31 -> subtracting the same value from both sides of the equation is an operation that preserves truth. We subtract 7 from both sides, getting

3x = 24 -> dividing both sides of the equation by the same value is also an operation that preserves truth. We divide both sides by 3, getting

x = 8 -> addition is associative, so we can break 8 up however we want if we do

x = 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 = (1 + 1 + 1) + (1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1) = 3 + 5

Solving an algebra problem is the process of breaking down the things that make it complicated using the truth-preserving operations that defeat them. Added values can be subtracted. Multiples can be divided. Exponents can be root'd.

We understand what it means to put a placeholder in a math problem. We realize, by the same token, we can put in more than one placeholder, if we want. This gives us problems that don't have single numerical solutions, but spaces of solutions. Consider

2*x = ?

We do what we did before, replacing that "?" with something that means the same thing. We use a different letter to avoid confusion.

2*x = y

Now we have multivariable algebra. Instead of getting hard numbers for both variables, we have pairs of numbers. If we pick an x, we get a y. If we pick a y, we get an x. The relationship between the values is clearly defined; x will always be y/2. If x is 3, y is 6. If x is -1.8, y is -3.6.

Now for the sake of convenience, we create shorthand - another change of terminology that preserves truth. We come up with a term that describes this relationship between x and y. We decide to call y a "function."

y = f(x) = 2*x

A function is what we're calling one half of an equation; what goes on the other side of the equals sign. It's just a rename, like when we turned ? into x. It preserves truth.

The trick at this stage is that every element of this seeming increasingly complexity is actually an attempt to make the process simpler as we handle more and more things. We don't technically need any numbers other than 0 and 1 if we're just dealing with rational numbers. We could write 378/5 with nothing but 1s and +, -, * and /, but by god we wouldn't want to. We could write [x^3 + 2x + 5] as ?*?*? + ? + ? + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 and it would mean the same thing. The shorthand and symbols get dizzying if you lose track of what they mean, but when you remember what they mean, you understand why you need them.

Any piece of mathematical shorthand basically means "for this thing we're talking about, this set of things is known to be true." We can rederive those things if we need to, but the shorthand is there to help us avoid doing it unnecessarily. We call the integers a group because that means it has an associative operation that is invertible and has an identity element that, when used in the operation, leaves the operated-on value unchanged. We don't want to write that out every time we use + or remember what 0 means, but we can if we have to.

Calculus is where most people think math turns into wizardry, but derivatives and integrals are just another pair of inverse functions like + and - or * and /, and the building block of this branch of math is the derivative. Any formula for a derivative can, in a pinch, be rederived by calculating the difference quotient (f[x+h]-f[x])/h as h approaches 0. If f(x)=x^2, we may memorize that its derivative f'(x)=2x, or we may calculate

[f(x+h) - f(x)]/h =

([x+h]^2 - x^2)/h =

(x^2 + 2xh + h^2 - x^2)/h =

(2xh + h^2)/h = 2x + h

And the limit of this as h->0 is 2x.

Everything in math can be broken down to first principles. Everything. Sometimes it's very hard to figure out what tool you need to break it down to its next stage of simplification, but it was built from first principles and it can be broken down the same way. If it isn't making sense, break it down with truth-preserving methods until it does - even if you have to go all the way back to zeroes and ones.

[purinfelix]

force of habit ♡₊˚•.

pairing: joão félix x reader (established relationship) summary: joão has a nervous habit that comes out before games, but you're just the thing to calm his nerves warnings: none!, pure fluff w/c: 1.1k (did someone say over-writing?)

a/n: aaa first ever writing post !! wrote this because i noticed joão has a tendency to bite at his nails in a lot of clips (and also just because i never ever ever stop thinking about his hands. like ever) hope you guys like it !! <3

“João.” your voice was soft, but stern as you watched your boyfriend catch your eye in confusion. 

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence at this point, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel like a total hypocrite. You had an abundance of bad habits yourself. You picked at your skin when you were stressed, struggled with waking up early and could never seem to get out of leaving things until the absolute last minute. 

And somehow, being a pro football player didn’t stop your boyfriend from falling into the same trap. He got frustrated easily, would always forget to pick up after himself, and constantly ate your leftovers in the fridge no matter how often you told him not to. But one habit seemed to bother you the most: the way he would bite his nails. 

It wasn’t the act itself that bothered you really, lord knows your habits were far more irritating. Rather it was what it signified to you - that he was worried about something, bothered or annoyed at the situation at hand - that riled you up so much. And the fact he never seemed to notice he was doing it only made it worse. 

At first, when you two had first met and still fell into being smitten with one another, you hadn’t minded it. Mostly because you’d hardly noticed it, only noticing him do it occasionally. But it was only once you started dating, and seeing each other far more often, that its seriousness became apparent. 

You could give him a thousand reasons why he should stop doing it, but you knew he would hardly care, and if he did it wouldn’t be easy for him to stop doing something that seemed like second nature, which was why you made it your mission to help him.

Or try to. 

Which was what you were doing - the two of you standing across from each other in the narrow corridor leading to the locker room. The time until his next game ticked away slowly but you had yet to break your tradition of spending time together beforehand - João always insisting you were his ‘good luck charm’, as cheesy as it sounded. 

His eyes caught yours at the sound of his name, blinking cluelessly at first. Slowly though, he caught on, retreating his hands from his mouth and mumbling a quick “sorry” as he did. You sighed. 

“It’s alright, you’re that nervous for this match, hm?” you said, stepping a little closer and pocketing the phone you were holding so that you could take both his hands in yours. He nodded, breath hitching in his throat at your sudden closeness. Even though you were a couple now (officially, hard launched, announced to the public, however, you wanted to put it), he was yet to get used to your boldness when it came to things like physical affection. 

“I’ve got to prove myself today, you know?” His hands trembled slightly as you interlaced your fingers with his, giving them a soft squeeze in an attempt to steady them. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll do good as always.” You ran your thumb across the back of his hand, turning it around to get a look at his fingernails, “And remind me to file your nails when we get home.” you added, half-jokingly, half-seriously. 

He only laughed in response, but it was a weak one that signified the remnants of some last-minute nerves. His neck whipped around as he looked up and down the hallway, legs bouncing as he did, relentlessly. You were somewhat used to watching him like this, to the point you had come to find it endearing how he tried to convince everyone around him, and even himself, that he was fine - even if everything else made it obvious he wasn’t. Not like he was ever in the wrong in doing so though, as you watched the clock on the wall tick over to just less than half an hour before the match. You know being nervous only made him play worse, so you knew you’d have to come up with some way to calm him down, and do so fast. 

“You uhm-” you hesitated for a second before letting it out like a sight, “You look really good in your kit.” 

This seemed to catch him off guard, shown by his widened eyes and the soft blush spreading across his cheeks. He leant in a little closer, towering over you upon hearing it as if daring you to say it again. Slowly, a smirk braced his face, his hands now the ones gripping yours. 

“You really think so?” He was irritating when he was like this, all cocky and suave, but it was an irritating you couldn’t ever seem to get enough of. 

“Yes, though if you ask again I might just change my mind,” you muttered, avoiding his keen eye knowing it would be difficult to let him go to his game if you did. You only turned to look down the hallway, trying your best to conceal a smirk. He let out a low chuckle at this, before craning his neck around to get a look at the clock. 

“I should probably go,” he said, but he kept his hands firmly gripped on theirs, still shaking slightly. 

“You’ll do well, don’t stress.” you assured him, smiling, “I’ll meet you after the game okay?” 

He nodded definitively, “Kiss for good luck?” he added, barely above a whisper. Thought with his eyebrows raised, brown eyes so pleading, and the feeling of his hands on yours, it was impossible for you not to give in. 

Tiptoeing to close the gap between you two, you pressed your lips to his. Almost immediately you felt his hands weave out of your grip and come up to cup your face gently, pulling you in as if silently asking for more. And it took every ounce of strength not to give in to him right there and then. 

“João! Either get a room or come on!” 

It seemed like you didn’t have to. You cursed Gavi silently under your breath as you reluctantly broke away from the kiss. 

“We’ll finish this once the games are over if I win.” He said in a rushed whisper, hands moving to catch a strand of your hair which he twirled around his finger mindlessly. 

“Mhm, once you win,” you corrected him, smile teasing as ever. You were about to turn to head back to your seat, front row, of course, João couldn’t have it any other way, before you spun around once more. Grabbing your boyfriend’s much larger hands in yours you pressed a soft kiss to his knuckle, catching him off guard for the second time that night. 

“Play good, for me okay?” you mumbled against the skin of his hand. 

“Of course, always,” he assured, pulling you in to leave one last kiss on your forehead before jogging off towards the locker room. 

Although, not before turning around to get one last look at his favourite ‘good luck charm’, completely unaware that the tremble in his hands had gone completely. 

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt3

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife

2009, Hungaroring

There was at least 2 weeks before Formula 1 went back to racing. It means that there was 2 weeks for Y/N to hide herself and that embarrassing situation she was in. 2 weeks to prepare herself how to pretend on how to act if she sees Sebastian.

'As long as Sebastian does not bring it up then I will pretend that nothing happened' she told herself.

She tried not to think about the incident by allowing herself to be buried with answering emails and looking into other things needed pre-race.

"Did you eat already?"

A sudden orange appeared in between her and the computer screen. Y/N didn't have to look up to see which driver handed the orange because there was only one driver who would always give her an orange.

"I haven't got the chance yet"Y/N replied to Sebastian

"You should probably eat. It's not good that you aren't eating" Sebastian insisted "Can't Mark do these things?"

"I'm his personal assistant remember, I'm paid to do these"

"But is it really necessary to finish it at the moment?"

It was pointless to argue with Sebastian so Y/N took the orange and closed her laptop.

"Happy?"she asked

"Very much"

The two of them started eating the oranges brought by Sebastian. It was a habit that the two have, Sebastian calls it a pre-race ritual. He actually believes he performs better when they share oranges. So here they are sitting and enjoying the oranges.

In the back of their minds, they are both thinking about that night at the hotel but there is a certain peace between the them. They don't want to ruin things by saying something stupid.

"You heard what happened with Massa right?"Y/N tried to establish a new topic just to get things off her overthinking.

"Absolutely felt bad for him. It's a good thing that he seems to be in a stable condition"Sebastian said.

The qualifying incident yesterday has been terrifying to watch. Y/N didn't want that happening to either Sebastian or Mark or even any other driver. Her heart dropped when she saw Massa being wheeled out unconscious to the hospital.

"Do you sometimes think that you'll ever stop racing?"Y/N wondered "You have been racing since you were like young and now you are stil racing"

"I honestly don't know, racing is all I have ever known" Sebastian admitted.

"I know, you were born gripping on a steering gear I bet" Y/N joked which made Sebastian laugh too.

"But seriously, if you ever want to retire of racing. Don't retire and go out because you got badly injured. Retire because you want to"Y/N added

It was her way of saying that she is extremely cared about him. Maybe its something that she cannot put into words but maybe Sebastian can figure it all out, he is a smart man in Y/N's opinion.

With a comforting smile, Y/N was assured that he got the message.

2009, Spa-Francorchamps

"Did you try texting Mark?"

Christian Horner and Sebastian Vettel are both in a meeting room about to discuss some things with the team strategists. They were supposed to meet up 10 minutes ago but they can't go on with the meeting since Mark is not around.

It was highly unusual for Mark to be late. He is never late as far as Sebastian knows. He considers giving Y/N a text when the door burst open.

"I'm gonna punch Button in the face when I see him"Mark Webber was fuming when he entered late at the conference room.

"Hold on, what did Jenson do?"

"Punk tried to ask my sister out"Mark huffed.

"He did what?" Christian butted in the conversation "I thought Sebastian was dating Y/N"

"HOLD ON WHAT?" "EXCUSE ME?"

The two red bull drivers were on their feet. Mark seems to be ready to hit Sebastian while Sebastian was debating which exit is much more safer. Frankly, Sebastian was never afraid of Mark but with the way he is shooting daggers with his eyes- If looks could kill, Sebastian was 4 feet under ground now.

"I just thought Sebastian was dating Y/N, they are always together when she isn't following you around Mark" Christian explained.

"My sister and Sebastian?" Mark repeated

Sebastian wanted to explain himself to Mark but he is internally panicking. If Christian, their team principal, can notice then there is a big chance that his feelings might be obvious to other people in the paddock.

At the same time, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach upon realizing that Jenson Button asked out Y/N. Jenson had the courage to ask her out and Sebastian couldn't even talk to Y/N about what happened weeks ago.

Christian seems to sense the tension that he brought to the two red bull drivers

"Maybe its just me and my understanding, right seb?" Christian apologized

"Huh yeah, mmhh nothing going on" Sebastian lied

There was a sharp gaze from Mark "I'm watching you"

"Let's talk about Jenson"Christian redirected the topic "maybe he is just trying to get a rise off you. We're slowly closing on him for the championship"

"If I hit that boy with a car this Sunday, I won't regret it" Mark swears.

"Don't bring your personal life on the car" Christian reminded.

Sebastian seems to take it as a mental note for himself as well. He was actually debating that if Mark wasn't successful in punting Jenson then he would.

"Besides Y/N has to date, she is in that age of dating" Christian added

Sebastian knew that Mark has been the kind of sibling that is overly protective. Given that Y/N has been the youngest one and the one that has been following Mark around, Mark has a special worry about her. It was very understandable why he acts like this.

"As much as I could, I will not let my sister date drivers." Mark says with finality.

It felt like it wasn't just a statement meant for Jenson but it was also something meant for Sebastian. Great, now Sebastian feels like everything is more complicated than it was before.

2009, Interlagos

It wasn't Y/N's brightest idea that she went on a date with Jenson Button. She figured after weeks of being constantly asked by Jenson, she should give him a chance. She thought it could also help lessen her feelings for Sebastian.

It's a pretty bad idea now that she thinks about it.

But there was no going back because here she is sitting with Jenson at a small restaurant somewhere in Brazil.

Don't get her wrong but Jenson is charming and he knows how to make people comfortable. He is a gentleman, he picked her up with roses, asked her for her favorite dish, and was kind enough to lend his jacket when she is feeling a bit cold.

But there is something missing about Jenson.

"You know, I really enjoy spending time with you tonight"Jenson started "But are you enjoying yourself?"

"I'm sorry its just that its my first time going out for dates, I'm not good with this sort of thing" Y/N replied

"That's okay, I'm glad to be the first one to take you out"

Y/N felt the guilt of lying eating her up so she quickly wanted to clear out the air "Jenson, you are a really nice guy but you know I really think its better if we become friends instead?"

There was a small smile from the British driver. It seems like he has also felt that he was about to be friendzoned tonight.

"It's perfectly fine Y/N, I just really enjoy your company"

The dinner continued on more smoothly and they were able to share some personal details about their life. It felt like an air of relief for the two of them to clear out things that this will not be a failed date but rather a new friendship.

The media on the other hand has seen a different story.

Jenson Button winning on and off track against Red Bull?

In case you missed it, the newly declared Formula 1 champion, Jenson Button, has been seen in a restaurant in Brazil having dinner with a very special lady. Who is this mystery lady? It's Mark Webber's sister and personal assistant, Y/N.

The pairing is a shocker for everyone since Red Bull is the main competitor of Button this season. It seems like the two are a star crossed lovers in the making. People who have been in the restaurant has noted how the pair were giggling and close to one another.

We can't wait what Mark will have to say about this pairing.

2009, Yas Marina Circuit

"Sebastian please just slow down"Y/n begged.

It was really petty for Sebastian to be angry and ignore Y/N but he felt really confused on how to act around her. Ever since he read that stupid article, its all that he could think about. So while he couldn't deal with his emotions then he thinks its best to avoid her like the plague.

"I'm busy" Sebastian's curt reply

"Oh c'mon, you are not busy. You are ignoring me" Y/N was still hot in trail "This is so childish and stupid"

"Me? Stupid?" Sebastian stopped and turned to face her.

"You are calling me stupid when you are the one out there having dinner with the enemy"Sebastian wasn't thinking at this point.

"The enemy? Do you think I'm giving out secrets to Jenson?" she asked in shock

"Yes, Jenson is our enemy. You should have not gone on a dinner date with him, don't you have any sense of loyalty to the team?"

Sebastian could see the tears starting to form in her eyes. He knows that he said the wrong things and its not something that he can take back. Everything was just so heated.

"You believe those tabloids than me?"

"I don't know what to believe. You two looked pretty cozy on that front page" Sebastian really wanted to shut himself by now but jealousy is a sick sick disease that cannot be stopped.

"That's real mature of you Seb, you disappoint me" she sounds so defeated "Out of everyone, you were one of the people who I thought would believe me rather than what was painted by the media"

"Y/N you can't fault me on that, you were close"

"We were just friends and besides I-" she caught herself to stop.

There was a confession at the other end of Y/N. She almost confessed how she cannot see herself with Jenson because all she can see is how he is not Sebastian and all she wants to love is Sebastian. It was a good thing she caught herself before she slipped again.

"Besides what?" Sebastian wondered.

"Never mind. Talk to me when you mature"

"Yeah that's real mature, run away when you don't wanna face the consequences of your actions" Sebastian chastised.

Y/N felt that her tears are falling so she could only turn away and run the other direction. Sebastian, on the other hand, felt like hitting himself. It was the type of conversation he wanted to avoid because he could not contain his emotions. He bitterly regrets how this was their last conversation for 2009.

[writervaul-t]

something about you

chapter five: burned trust

summary: benji says the wrong things but tries to amend it that same night. [name] gets cornered with questions and finds a newfound confidence with her relationship with benji.

pairing: modern!benjicot blackwood x f!reader

note: you guys are so cute when i see the comments 😭❤️ thanks for loving something about you as much as i do (also thank you kieran burton for confirming you are in fact tall 🤞). also football = soccer here guys hehe.

if i missed you to be added to the taglist, please go to my asks!! i don't see comments often so let me know on there just in case :)

masterlist | playlist

Just as predicted, Chiara was in the throes of her hangover by the time [Name] had woken up. Kermit (who she later was able to establish as the calmer of the two Tullys) had been handing her a water while Oscar and Benji were in the kitchen, cooking pancakes and cutting fruit.

"The world is upside down and inside out." Chiara says out loud.

"How much did you drink?" Kermit questions, only earning a groan from Chiara as a response.

[Name] is the one to respond, "Enough for her to forget that Chemistry exam."

"What exam?"

Kermit and [Name] exchange a grin. "Told you."

Once she reaches the first floor, she makes her way over to Chiara, checking on her friend. She looked worse than she most likely felt, with her hair pulled into all kinds of knots and volume.

Chiara seemed to have been pulled in and out of sleep, her mind seemingly wanting her awake while her body looked a couple hours behind from the way she lifts her arm up and lets it go, the limb smacking her across the face. Chiara groans again.

"[Name]!"

"You always get piss drunk and regret it the morning afterwards. Its like you never learn your lesson. Didn't we have a conversation about you eating bread before you started drinking?" [Name] comments as she pushes the glass of water to her lips again. "Keep drinking water. I know you also have Liquid IV in your purse so pour some in that too while you're at it."

"You're awful good about knowing the cure for hangovers." Kermit comments as [Name] kneels for Chiara's purse to find the powdered packet. "Do you go out often?"

[Name] shakes her head. "My older sister gave me some advice before I started uni and I guess I just remembered it. I tell Chiara all the time but she never seems to get it in her head that protein and bread will keep her from any of this--"

"I do not wish for a lecture now."

An eye roll came off from the girl as she throws the powder on her lap. "You'll get it now or you get it later. Your death."

Benji comes up to them, plates of breakfast on his arms, to which [Name] takes gratefully. He sits beside Kermit and watches the two argue back and forth before chiming in.

"You've been harping since she woke up," Benji says quietly to her. They watch as Chiara gets pulled up by Oscar from behind and Kermit makes a comment about the pancakes being tasty. "Maybe you should ease up on her?"

"Easy for you to say." [Name] says, taking a fork full of pancakes. "I'll be the one dealing with her later if she doesn't follow that routine I so willingly researched to make after one too many hangovers with her."

Benji snorts. "Of course you'd research it. Little miss routine and research."

He bites into his food but [Name] felt her body tense at his comment. "Routine and research."

Benji nods. "Yeah. When you have to figure out a routine, you go and research it. I don't think I've ever seen you do anything spontaneously."

"Us fake dating isn't spontaneous?" [Name] suggests.

Benji laughs. "I mean, maybe, but you sat me down and showed me the probability of people figuring us out and then basically started a lecture about how we should be careful one night and what kind of lies we should have on hand in case we slip up."

It had been our of precaution, [Name] remembered thinking. She had looked into what could have happened in case Aeron and his friends rubbed their braincells together to culminate that they were fake dating. Benji had shrugged off the conversation at the time but she wonders if he changed his mind after last night.

Clearly the precaution had been more necessary than anything after last night. She had nearly been lost in herself when she realized Aeron caught them and knew they were lucky he had been enough in a drunken haze into thinking her and Benji actually did come together.

Routine and research had been her only means of getting her comfortable with this situation. Something just felt right when she had all the information and statistics laid out on the table for her to see. Regardless, the comment left a dry taste in her mouth.

Of course she knew she was perceived as a little strange with her long lists and scheduled times. Even her own siblings made comments on her constant need to wanting to know everything. It kept her sane since she had started university and was the only security she knew that would keep her from losing whatever sanity she had left since the fake dating conundrum.

"Clearly we need to work on it." [Name] comments as she takes a bite of her breakfast, doing her best to avoid anyone's faces, even after she heard Benji groan.

"Please, no. That was so gruelling. Not to mention long. It didn't even work last night."

This time, [Name] sent a burning look to Benji. "Next time I'll just stay quiet then instead of trying to save our asses since my effort trying to keep up this little ruse is all one sided." She says, her voice icy before taking another bite of her breakfast.

The room stilled for a moment. In any other situation, [Name] would have done something like walk away or apologize for ruining the mood. It was too early in the morning for her to be in a hurry to alleviate the tension so she had let her anger be known as she ate in furied silence.

All that was heard was the clanking of the utensils against the plate. Glancing to her other side, even Chiara was eating silently, which was never the case even during moments [Name]'s patience was worn thin. Benji was tense beside her, glancing at her every now and then as be bit into his breakfast.

By the time she finished her plate, she announced that she would be gathering her things in her room and that her and Chiara had to get home. She spent the remainder of her time in the guest room, gathering her items before a knock could be heard.

Chiara stepped in, offering a sober smile as a peace offering. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"That's what friends do." [Name] says as she pulls her sweater over her shirt - Benji's shirt. It almost fit her too well, as if Benji had outgrown it long ago.

His suggestion to bring it home with her last night rang through her head, though she wasn't quite ready to broadcast that she had not only stayed over at his place but also insinuated something to imply she had to wear a change of clothes.

"You know," Chiara starts, settling on the pristine mattress. For an apartment full of boys, they had done well to keep the area decorated and clean. The guest room hadn't a single speck of dust and the sheets smelled like lavender and linen. "I'm sure Ben was just teasing earlier."

"Does teasing also mean hinting that I'm a Class A bore? Aeron Bracken already made me aware of my plight for some time now - and with everyone - and I don't need any more reminders."

Aeron, with all his obsession in wanting to make [Name]'s shifts a living hell, was also a perpetrator for gossip on campus. She knew it had been him who started the insulting stories about her being so boring, she most likely was the only virgin left on campus.

Not that it had been his business, or anyone's for that matter.

"He hadn't meant it that way." Chiara says but [Name] continued to fold her items with tempered patience. "Just that... You know..."

"No, I don't know what you mean, Chiara." [Name] challenges.

Chiara sighs as she lays down on the bed. "Don't take this the wrong way - I love you and you have your reasons to be so distant with men but you have a habit of being guarded with them even during friendly fire."

[Name] only sent her a look of caution. She hadn't been wrong; throughout [Name]'s 20 years of being alive, she hadn't had the best with talking to men. She did her best to limit her experience, subconsciously or not she wasn't sure anymore but every interaction she's had since then had always ended with her being short with them or just keeping conversations short.

Until with Benji, that is. The stories about him were just half truths from how he actually was. With all the rough edges and harshness he harbors, an equal amount of kindness is what she seems more often than not when they're around each other. Between the both of them, [Name] would have to admit she was more talkative than him since they had gotten more friendly with one another.

Sometimes she would even poke at him to see how much it would take him to show that callousness he oh so had. Nothing concerning ever came out of it besides him teasing her endlessly but it wasn't geared toward anything about her insecurities the way he had earlier.

She gnawed at her lip as she thought about this morning again. Chiara was looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response. [Name] only gave an answer by shoving her clothes under her arm and saying, "Come on, I have half a day off and I'd rather not spend it at a stranger's home."

"Technically this is your boyfriend's home so it shouldn't be awkward."

[Name] rolled her eyes, ready to remind her that Benji was technically not her boyfriend before she spied Oscar standing by her door from the corner of her eye. "You aren't working all day today?"

"Miracle, isn't it?" Chiara comments. "Looks like Rhaenyra finally wants her employee of the month to finally take a break."

"I'm her only employee?" [Name] counters, earning a raspberry blown her way. Oscar straightens himself in excitement.

"You should come to our bonfire tonight. We don't do much, just sit around a fire and talk. Sometimes we take night swims if enough of us bring something to swim in." He offers, making Chiara jump up from the bed.

She shakes [Name]'s arm, who nearly dropped the spare clothes under her arms. "We'd love to go!" [Name] opens her mouth in protest, but is stopped when Chiara continues to speak. "[Name], come on. It'll be fun."

Kermit and Benji stroll in, watching as the brunette practically begs [Name]. She bites at her lip, glancing at the three men just outside the door, her eyes meeting Benji's. He was hard to read at the moment, anticipation only tracing his face as he waits for her answer.

Her gaze cuts back down to her feet for a moment, trying to decide if meeting them at the beach was a good idea or if it was going to be as awkward as it was right now. Benji was the first to speak up.

"How about you sit on it and you can let us know later? Besides, the beach isn't just meant for us. You can even go there tonight and not have to be around us the whole night." He suggests, the idea calming her nerves a bit as she nods in response. Benji nods back, as if there was a mutual understanding only they both knew about.

Chiara smiles. "I don't hear a no. We'll need to go now, then; can't stay around here all day smelling like booze and with ruined makeup." She comments as she walks out the door, [Name] trailing behind her.

[Name] offers a quick thank you before leaving, doing her best to avoid Benji's burning gaze as she steps out the door and watches her retreat into the crisp morning air of King's Landing.

The afternoon shift at Nyra's Nook was mediocre at best. [Name] had done inventory on new books that arrived the day before and reset any books that had strewn about (though she wasn't sure it made a difference with how majority of the books stacked one another along the shelves anyways).

She had been in the middle of counting the till before she finished her shift when Jace had walked in, ready to relieve her. An amused look fell on his face and [Name] had already known what he was going to say.

"Don't--" She starts, but Jace had beaten her to the punch.

"Quite a ruckus happened last night, according to my sources." He comments as he walks behind the counter. [Name] rolls her eyes. Sources meaning Cregan Stark. "Who knew our very own [Name] could pack a punch."

"It was not a punch. It was a bitch slap." [Name] corrects, earning a howl of laughter from Jace. She slapped his chest. "You can either help me clear the items off this counter while I count or you can walk away before I tell Syrax to sic you."

Jace shakes his, though he cast a glance at his mother's cat, who had a clear favorite among the two as she sidled herself beside [Name], who adjusted the large pink bow attached to her. He does as he told, removing new books out of the last box she hadn't been able to finish.

They worked in silence for a moment, giving a bit of respite in his teasing. Jacaerys Velaryon, in all his popularity and golden boy image, was most definitely raised by his mother. He was kind and hadn't minded others opinions too much like [Name].

He kept a good head on his shoulder whenever something went awry, which was a good thing to have whenever [Name] had to deal with people who weren't on their best behavior, at work or on the rare days he wasn't at football practice and was walking around campus.

They weren't close, so to speak, but he had been more or less been like a brother to [Name] whenever he was around. Always teasing her but without any nasty intentions.

"Its good you slapped him, by the way. Aeron Bracken." Jace comments, his nose wrinkling as he mentioned his name.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your little feud with your family, would it?" [Name] asked, recalling his family drama.

Jace shakes his head. "I mean, the Brackens are technically in partnership with our family in some way, just not us. So to speak." He tries to explain, but [Name]'s blank stare urged him to broach the real subject. "No, I went to school with Aeron and Ben."

[Name] blinked at him, shocked at the news. Of course, it had made sense. Benji had been only a year older than her and if she thought hard enough, so was Jace. She never knew to try and connect the dots until now.

"They were both hot tempered and made the school year interesting, but between the two, Aeron was more cruel. Ben only retaliated in the way he knew, by being as vicious as he needed. But he never took things far the way Aeron had." Jace explains, adding the last part as if remembering he was talking to Benji's girlfriend.

[Name] nods, attempting to not seem interested but she was. Benji's life before he attended Crownlands Imperial College was shrouded in a mystery she didn't wish to press him for. The only information she heard about Benji before college was from Chiara and unrelated stories of his past he had mentioned to her before.

"Why do you think he changed all of a sudden?" She asked Jace, referring to Benji's sudden subdued behavior when he started university.

Jace hums, thinking deeply for a moment before he shrugged. "No clue. He almost felt like a ghost, though. Like he was here but not really. Ben wasn't ever like that before and well, he doesn't seem like that now that you've been seeing each other."

[Name] frowned, not quite understanding the sentence but knew better than to question it at the moment. Maybe Benji had a change of heart in his behavior lately; she could hardly believe she would influence anyones sudden outlook in life that quickly.

But then again, Benji was more sensitive than she was at times; breakfast was enough of an indication that at the very least he felt a sense of guilt. Guilt swept her up as well, the anger from this morning having subsided on her walk back home.

She petted Syrax as she thought on Oscar's offer about coming to the beach. After a moment, she found herself pulling out her phone and texting Chiara that she still wanted to go to the beach but wouldn't bother swimming.

The only response she received was a set of heart and wave of emojis, to which she let a small laugh at. Jace had made sure to spot this as he continued to work.

"Did you have fun afterwards?" He asked, smirking over at [Name]. She blinked at him for a moment before understanding the suggestive question.

"What happened after that public display of violence is none of your business." [Name] responds back, face bright red. "Besides, the Tullys and Chiara were with us..."

Jace snorts. "That's never stopped me before."

At this mentioned, [Name] rolls her eyes. "That's because you're a manwhore--"

She hadn't the opportunity to finish the sentence as Jace had covered her mouth the minute Rhaenyra walked out from her office.

The car ride to the beach nearly gave [Name] a heart attack. Chiara had her license for more than four years, though [Name] was sure her friend only used it for less than a year with how recklessly she had just driven them.

[Name] let out a sigh of relief once her feet made contact with the ground, glaring at a nonchalant Chiara who only said , "What?" before walking toward a small group of people surrounding a fire.

Kermit had been the first to spot them, running up to Chiara and helping her offload the chairs on her as she carefully held the booze she had brought for that evening. Oscar and Benji walked over to them, taking any heavy bags from [Name] as well.

"Looking a little green there, [Name]." Oscar teases.

"I'll throw up on you." [Name] threatens, feigning to lurch forward and a sense of satisfaction rolling off her as Oscar lets our a shriek in terror.

Kermit and Chiara trail after him, the older of the Tully brothers grumbling about his brother being too loud. Benji puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping them from moving to allow a safe enough distance from their friends.

They look at each other and for a moment, the crashing waves and laughter being swallowed around them. [Name] feels as if she couldn't breathe from how long they stood in front of each other, though she couldn't pull her eyes from his as they try to read each other.

Slinging her bag around himself, Benji pulls [Name] to him by her waist, nearly hugging her to him as he settles his head against her own. Faintly, she felt her stomach flutter at the gesture but spies a few prying eyes from the bonfire. She lets her rigid back soften slightly, leaning into Benji's side hug before he leads her toward the group, her hand fiddling with the end of his shirt as they moved.

"How was work?" Benji asks when they walk.

"Good." She responds back. The walk to the bonfire felt like a million miles away. The morning of their disagreement hung between them and [Name] did her best to swallow down any nervousness before it shook her whole body. "How was your's?"

Benji nods along in deep thought, as if trying to remember the fog of his shift at the downtown tattoo parlor today. "Could have been better but we're here now right?"

There was a double meaning behind that sentence, one only [Name] could understand. An allusion to what happened this morning, as if to say Let's not worry about it anymore. Gods if they really were going out, [Name] certainly didn't deserve someone as understanding as Benji.

His eyes cast at the group in front of them, spying something far ahead before moving away from her. "Do you want a beer?"

[Name] nods, settling down a log and letting the fire warm her legs as she watches the orange and pink hues of the sky beating down slowly. Her eyes train over to Chiara, who seems to being having a fun time with Benji's friends.

She seemed to fit right in, with her boisterous laughing and big smiles as Oscar and another one of his friends, Martyn Whent, threw a frisbee around. [Name] smiles at her friend, remembering how much she thrived around being near other people.

"She's very extroverted, your friend." A soft voice says from her right. [Name] turns, her stomach doing an uncomfortable flip as she makes looks up at Ulla Greyjoy.

Up close, Ulla was even more gorgeous. Her black hair was in a windswept ponytail, all the baby hairs jutting out this way and that but she looked as if she just stepped out of a magazine cover. She had makeup on and not a smudge was found on her sharp eyeliner. She had chosen a black tube top and denim shorts that were unzipped to reveal her black bikini.

In layman's words, Ulla looked hot.

"Yeah, Chiara loves people." [Name] comments, moving aside when Ulla takes seat next to her.

The dark haired girl nods. "I can tell; I'm not great at it so I'm a bit jealous."

Nodding, they continue to watch Chiara strike up a conversation from one person to another as they slowly start to grow a circle of frisbee players. At first [Name] used to be envious of Chiara when they had initially been roommates from how well she was able to fit in with a crowd so well.

After some time with her, though, it developed more into admiration from how observant Chiara was. She had been the one to invite [Name] out and made sure she knew just about everything happening at the school. Even today, she had made sure to ask [Name] if she was really okay with the outing before they left.

Jealousy was a feeling she understood but did her best to not take over as she knows she can't force herself to be social the same way Chiara can't force herself to enjoy seclusion the way [Name] did.

She did her best to not contemplate too much and was a but grateful when Ulla continues speaking. "I was a but surprised when I heard you were coming. From all the things I heard, I thought you weren't really the social type."

"I'm not very social," [Name] admits. "But that doesn't really eliminate the fact I want to go out and meet some people."

Ulla nods. "Does that happen often with you and Ben?"

"What do you mean?"

She nods toward Benji, who was unceremoniously stuck between a few people by the cooler, nodding along and laughing at a joke someone said. Benji's all black t-shirt and denim shorts getup was nearly matching Ulla's own outfit. The thought made [Name] tug at the skirt of her pink sundress.

Ulla offered a tight lipped smile. "Its just, I've never seen you two out before besides on campus. Do you guys go on dates or anything? He certainly took me out often after..."

She pauses for a moment, clearly knowing she spoke too much and showed it from the way she offered a faux smile and looked away. A bubble of irritation rises in [Name] as she realizes what was happening. She hadn't cared too much about what Benji did in the past or his off time - after all, this was an arrangement that was only a couple of weeks long - but she knew when she was being made to look like an idiot.

"We go on dates; granted its not every time something happens but I guess that's just the benefit of doing more than sleeping with each other." [Name] says with narrowed eyes, watching as Ulla regarded her with faint surprise before morphing it into overplayed shock.

"I wasn't insuating anything like that--"

"Then what were you insinuating? You're a grown woman, Benji's a grown man. That's not something new, especially at university. As long as it isn't happening now, then I don't really care about Benji's dating history, no matter how questionable that person is." [Name] says, leaning against her palm to look at the dark haired girl.

Ulla regarded her with a calculated stare and [Name] held it with as much intensity. She's had her round of bullies this year. Aeron was easy enough to deal with. She always fought him off whenever he bothered her but the slap and this morning had seemed to have given her a healthy reminder that she can't always plan things ahead of time.

Their stare off at had come to a head when another dark haired girl walked up to them, settling on [Name]'s other side as she says, "Trying to scare off more girls from this group, Greyjoy?"

Turning her head, [Name] met another pair of familiar brown eyes, though it was more intense and they narrowed to an obvious distaste for the other girl in front of her. Her pitch black hair was tied into a bun but she was still just as pretty as Ulla.

Ulla doesn't say a word as she gets up from her spot, sauntering off to the other side of the firepit.

The new dark haired girl turns to [Name], all hostility gone from her face as she says, "Ignore her; she's all bark, no bite. She's also just upset her newest toy lost interest in her before she had her fun. Not to mention, I'm sure you scared her off a bit with that response. Ulla wants to chase off any competition in this group. Not there's anything to scope out with these idiots."

Taking a glance around the men in their wake, [Name] lets out a chuckle in agreement as she spots Martyn and Kermit wrestling in the far distance. For a moment she envisons her brothers back home, who always tussled about with each other that way. "Yeah, you're right, I guess."

"I'm Alysanne Blackwood. Or Aly. I'm Benji's cousin - well, technically aunt but we're only two years apart so it doesn't make much of a difference." The girl tries to explain, taking a sip of beer in her hand. "And you're Benji's girlfriend. [Name], right? Cregan told me about you from last night."

[Name] groaned. Of all people, she hadn't expected Cregan to be so loose lipped. "Does everybody know about last night?"

"I'd wager yes. That was epic. I wish I was there. I'd do anything to see a Bracken get knocked down a few pegs." Aly comments. "Whatever Ulla said to you, don't worry too much. They did have something going on but it was short lived and she's just bitter someone managed to break Benji down before she did."

[Name] raised an eyebrow. "You mean his no dating streak?"

Aly confirms with a smile. "The most he did was sneak around with Ulla and a few girls a couple of months the first year before completely cutting any kind of woman off. Imagine my surprise when I hear from Oscar and Kermit say he started dating a girl whose head isn't full of logs."

"Any particular reason why he decided to do all of that and suddenly break it?" [Name] asked, watching as Aly's face fell slightly.

"I think its up to Benji to talk about that." She says. [Name] takes that as a sign to be patient and wait.

"Fair enough." [Name] says, recalling her own secrets she wants to hold close. "If its any consolation, us dating was a complete accident."

"Yeah?" Aly asked, frowning. "How'd you two meet?"

"At Nyra's shop." A voice from behind them interrupts. Benji sits at the spot Ulla had sat from - a good thing so she could finally swipe that memory of her in exchange for him. Benji hands her a beer, the condensation from the cold bottle running between her fingertips as she takes a sip. He falls easily into their story as she fiddles with the ring on his finger. "I thought she was too pretty and pink for her to take a chance on me but I couldn't resist."

She feels his lips touch the crown of her head, a silent signal for her to say its her turn now. "I thought he was a mute so I didn't really notice him."

Benji's lip twitches in amusement. It hadn't been a complete lie - she really had thought he was a mute the first couple of months they interacted until she heard him garble out a quiet "thank you" on a random evening. It had nearly frightened her, thinking a spirit had made itself known. It had been an embarrassing story to admit but Benji had thought the story was amusing enough.

"You're the most reasonable person in the world and you think a ghost is more likely to show up than me talking?" He had asked her that day. They had gone to the diner for another late night study "date".

"Well excuse me for not realizing you were weren't verbally impaired!" She shot back, nearly falling off her spot on the leather seats from laughing with him. They had gotten absolutely nothing done that night.

"He dropped a few books on my hands when neither of us were looking and apologized after I screamed. He asked me out to dinner as a way to make up for nearly cutting my fingers off." [Name] said, peeking at Benji as she jokes.

"Now you're just being dramatic."

"Fine, my circulation cut off. But still a bit bold to ask someone during a shift."

"You clearly liked it if we're still together." Benji teases, leaning his tall frame over her.

Their noses brushed against each from how close they were and [Name] felt her heart race when she had thought he was going to kiss her on the lips. Her gaze stayed on his lips for a moment before she glanced up at him, realizing her had been staring at her the entire time.

She swallows thickly, hiding it away her nervousness by moving away and pressing her lips against his cheek to avoid any confusion. Her gaze tore to the burning wood afterward, not wanting to meet Benji's eyes.

What was that? She wanted to ask him. Had he wanted to kiss her or was she thinking too much on it? She wasn't sure. She couldn't inquire too much anyways, not with his own cousin (aunt?) right next to them. If Aly suspected anything, though, she hadn't said a thing, smiling at the pair before walking off with the excuse to help Chiara win against Kermit and Oscar, who were well known cheats at frisbee.

Now it had just the two of them, staring at the fire since it was better than looking at each other. The crackle of the fire was the only noise she could hear, conversations around them drowning out as she realized that had been the first time she's ever had to make a move since they first started fake dating.

And for some reason she wanted to do it again soon. It must be the beer, she thinks. Still, it doesn't stop her from taking two gulps to possibly help numb that though.

"Fancy a walk?" Benji asks suddenly, the low baritone of his voice breaking their barrier of silence, making her jump a bit. An amused smile plays his lips at the action, making [Name]'s stomach turn again. She tales another sip of the beer. Then nods after a moment.

"Sure."

He holds out a hand for her to take as they walk a far enough distance from everyone else. Distantly, one of his friends makes an innuendo about straying far enough to do something. [Name] does her best to ignore the comment as Benji turns around and screams at him to get his head out of his ass while sticking a middle finger up.

"I'm sorry about them; they're all from the Riverlands like me. Formalities aren't our strongest suit." Benji explains with a laugh.

[Name] shakes her head. "No, its fine. I like them. They remind me of home."

"Oh yeah? How was life like at home for you?"

"Too many men." [Name] all but comments, chuckling with Benji before continuing. "I have two older brothers and two younger brothers between me and my older sister. We grew up closer to Dorne - formalities are different for us too."

Benji whistles. "And I thought my family was large..."

"There was never a moment of peace with the lot of them." [Name] comments, grinning. "I thought getting away from the noise at school would do me some good but I miss them a lot. Seeing your friends act like that made me a little less homesick. Thanks for inviting me."

"Not a problem. You are always welcome to come, homesick or not." Benji offers, smiling at her. His eyes turn a bit solemn, a thought pulling him away briefly. "And... I'm sorry for not realizing I was going to far this morning."

He looks away, eyes downcast to where the water lulls against the sand, as if ready to receive a scolding from [Name]. She found herself lost again, wondering how many versions of Benji she had seen so far. He was a bit more like what the person she initially met today - gruff and a little mean spirited but whatever edges he sharpened was subsequently dulled (sometimes a little too late but they dulled nonetheless) whenever she was around.

The thought of him being able to let his guard down around her sent a warmth in her chest. She squeezed his hand to signal for him to look at her. "I'm sorry too," She concedes. "I'm not very good when I have to say I'm uncomfortable. And I have little patience when it comes to teasing - my brothers knew of it and did everything they could to push my buttons until they take things too far. I know you didn't intend that so you shouldn't have gotten the brunt of my anger this morning." Benji nods in understanding. "Plus I didn't get to eat a proper dinner yesterday so I was just downright starving that morning."

Benji stops for a brief moment, the cold ocean washing over their feet and lets out a laugh. The orange hue from the sun casted a golden glow to his face and for a moment [Name] felt that same gut twisting feeling in her stomach again. She did her best to neutralize her face as she had unwittingly thought that Benjicot Blackwood was the most handsome man she has ever met.

"I'll make sure you've had a full meal before I try anything next time." Benji jokes but the promise was there: he wouldn't push her anymore than he had this morning.

"Good. I'll be less snappy next disagreement." [Name] replies in return before sighing. She looked back at the group, just mere ants from the distance they stood in. Her feet had grown tired and frankly, she wanted to stay alone with Benji for as long as possible.

So, she settled down on the sand, just a few feet from the wading water. Benji followed suit, settling beside her in the sand. They both take sips of their beers before [Name] says, "Tell me about your family... Are they as noisy as mine?"

Benji grins. "Oh, trust me. They're all a bit mad, honestly. But you'd love them..."

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their families, their jobs, and everything in between. For that time, nothing really mattered to [Name]. Aeron, Ulla, everyone who had seemed to enjoy circulating their romance - none of that seemed to have mattered when it was just her and Benji sitting in the wet sand, drunkenly laughing at stories that weren't that funny.

Though, [Name] thought, it might have something to do with it just being with one another that made the stories amusing.

taglist

@not-a-glad-gladiator @opheliaas-stuff @sahvlren @nikki-is-a-nerd @weird-things-i-think-about @cxcilla @anakilusmos @haydee5010 @waystarkia @newestobsessionishere @herejhsttostan @hardkiddonut @aisselasstuff @rebeccawinters @aemondsb1tch @radiantdanvers @northofvalyria @accidentpronedork @cafemirka @hobis-hope95 @nixtape-foryou @poppyflower-22

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[ihavethedreamies]

Peach | Juicy Fruit | Jaemin

Na Jaemin - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Anal Play, Sex Toys (Butt Plug, Butterfly Vibrator), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Rough Sex, Squirting, Daddy Kink (he calls himself that once), Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: Jaemin isn't too happy his girlfriend doesn't like peaches…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, at least this is the longest.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

-> Series Hub <-

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"You really don't like peaches?" Your boyfriend looked at you, looked utterly dejected at this new information. You sighed, flapping the produce bag so it would open, holding it to him. He dumped the five peaches into the bag he had carefully cradled in his arms and then added two more for good measure. As you put the bag in the cart you shrugged.

"I will eat them sometimes. They just are…weird."

"Weird how?" Jaemin took the cart from your grasp so he could push it for you.

"Why are they fuzzy?" You were a bit ashamed to admit why you disliked them so much. The texture was just so odd, it was like velvet. And you hated velvet too, it was unnatural. You much preferred nectarines, of a similar vein but NOT fuzzy.

"But they are so sweet and juicy…" He stopped to send you a mischievous look, "like you." He booped your nose with his finger then continued on, leaving you staring after him in disgust.

"Why do I love you?" You mumbled, trudging after him.

"Because I'm sweet and juicy too." He replied way too casually. You rolled your eyes and you two continued to shop, eventually getting the canned food. You grabbed a couple of different things, and you watched him put a can of pre-cut peaches in.

"We're buying fresh ones." You took it back out so he would put it back.

"These aren't fuzzy, maybe you'll like these." Jaemin tipped the can back and forth in your face, putting it in the cart once again. They weren't expensive, so you just let it happen. In the candy isle, you looked for your favorite kind and he came over with some Japanese brand of chewy candies, and they were peach flavored.

"Seriously?"

"I will convince you to like something peach. Don't make me get the Crush soda!" He pointed at you, finger close but not touching your forehead. Sighing you dropped the issue, finishing shopping then going back home. You sat at the counter eating some chips as he put the rest of the groceries away, he wouldn't let you help. He said it was because you were too short to reach everything, but he really just liked spoiling you. When he was done, he brought over the bag of peaches, setting each one on the counter in a row, smallest to largest.

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, not sure you wanted to know the answer. He didn't answer, taking the can of peaches, opening it, and placing seven of the slices on a paper plate. In front of each peach, he put one of the candies.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" You reiterated and he held up his hand, telling you to wait.

"If you eat a certain number of each one, I will do different things for you."

"Like what?"

"What do you think, baby girl?" He leaned on the counter, smirking and you shuffled in your seat under his intense gaze. Clearing your throat, you closed the chip bag and shoved them to the side.

"Alright. What are they?"

"One candy equals one minute of making out." He pointed at each one. Jaemin moved to the slices on the plate.

"One is I'll let you ride my thigh." You nodded for him to continue.

"Two, I'll get you off with my fingers. Three, your vibrator. Four I'll let you suck me off at the same time. Six, I'll cum in your mouth, and all seven I'll fuck your face." He listed off, recognizing the look on your face with each level. He knew you too well. You swallowed hard and he flashed a devilish grin.

"Okay, what about those." You nodded toward the full fruits. He held one up.

"If you only eat one of these, I'll have you sit on my face. If you do all the other ones, plus one of these…" He drifted off, trying to keep his face flat, but he was still smirking. Your eyes followed his hand as he put the fruit down and pulled a bottle out of his pocket you had no idea was there. He set it down, the fluid inside was a peachy color…

"I'll use this." Jaemin leaned back against the counter opposite the island as you looked at the bottle.

"Real original. Peach flavored butt lube…" You sighed, but your cunt clenched at the thought. You had been talking about experimenting…

"Okay, deal." You agreed, holding your hand out to shake and he grinned.

"You sure, baby?"

"We'll see." You shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. You were a little nervous, the last time you had canned peaches, you gagged at the slimy texture. The candies weren't too worrying, the artificial flavor was probably quite different from real peaches. He took you hand and shook it, leaning back again, nodding for you to start. Unwrapping the first gummy, you slid it into your mouth, the sugar decorating the outside rough on your tongue as your teeth sank in. It really wasn't too bad, though you wouldn't go out of your way to buy any.

"One minute." You started, unwrapping the next gummy. After you had chewed and eaten all seven, Jaemin smirked, coming around the island, and pulling off the stool to him. As he brought you to and settled on the couch, he set a timer for seven minutes, cracking some joke about seven minutes in heaven, then hauled you down onto his lap. He groaned exaggeratedly as he pulled you down to seal your lips with his, tongue already snaking its way into your mouth. Your head swam as Jaemin kissed you, he really was too good at it. You felt a bit of saliva drip down your chin, he was rough and noisy. You both were sucking air in harshly through your noses since you couldn't use you mouths, but not wanting to cut short the seven minutes in any way. When his phone alarm went off, his hand buried in your air and forced you to pull back from the kiss. You were both panting, but you were way more than him, with that stupid cocky grin on his ridiculously attractive face. With ease, he stood, you still on his lap. This forced  you to wrap your legs and arms around him with a yipe and he went back to the kitchen, setting you on the island counter. He slid the plate over to you, grabbing a spare plastic fork and handing it over. This was more nerve wracking for you. You pondered if literally swallowing the slices whole would be less skeevy than chewing them since they got kind of rubbery in the can. Taking the first piece, you brought it to you lips, cringing at the taste of the syrup they put in the can to keep them the right texture. Sliding it in, the slippery texture made you gag slightly, so you just bit it in half, then swallowed both pieces. Thinking of it like a medication pill made it go down easier, since those weren't supposed to be appetizing.

"Thigh." He recited, stepping forward even further, standing between your legs where you sat on the counter. You swallowed again, making sure the pieces were done and then proceeded to do it again. The flavor wasn't too bad, but the texture was still unpleasant.

"Fingers." Another, swallowing both halves.

"Vibe."

"My cock." He placed his thumb over your lip, swiping a bit of the syrup away.

"My cum." You licked you lips that time, swallowing hard to get the rest of the sixth piece down. When you finally ate the last slice, he smiled deviously, running his index finger down your throat, as if following the fruit as you swallowed it. Before you could do anything yourself, he pulled away, dashing to the bedroom, coming back out with your butterfly vibrator. He came back over, pulling your butt to the edge, running his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You shifted so he could flip it up, smiling at your pink panties. He pulled them to the side, your slick letting the silicone head of the small vibrator slide in easily. You shivered a bit as he got it all in and let your underwear settle back in place, the wings of the bottom of the toy cupping your whole cunt. He helped you off the counter, and you got on your knees in front of him. As you pulled his hard cock out of his sweat pants, you whined, lapping up the drop of precum beaded at his head. Jaemin smirked, holding the remote for you to see, then turning it on. Your breath hitched as he increased the intensity, you squatted further so the base of the toy hit the floor, allowing you to press it into your more. Opening your mouth wide, you sat like a good girl as he took his cock in his hand, leading it in. Listening to you breathe roughly through your nose, he kept going, filling your throat with his cock. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, loving the feeling of your throat trying to accommodate but not gag. Jaemin just held his cock there, your nose pressed to his groin, your hips rutting against your toy. When he could tell you needed to breathe, he pulled his hips back enough to allow you respite, then started to thrust his hips. Every fifth thrust, he shoved his cock as deep as he could, his palm laying over your throat feeling it stretch with his girth. He groaned loudly, he always did.

"Fuck, baby girl~" Your eyes were watering, tears flowing over your cheeks, breaths harsh through your nose and he knew you were close like him. His thumb hit the button the remote again and at the new intensity, you hit your climax, your moan around his cock helping him finish as well. You nearly sobbed as hot, thick spurts of his cum went straight down your throat. It seemed to never end, and your vision blurred from lack of air. Jaemin noticed and pulled halfway out, a few small spurts of cum still leaving his cock, then pulled out completely so you could suck in oxygen. His cock was a mess of saliva and release. Panting from where you squatted on the floor, you watched him shut the toy off, sighing in relief, and he picked up the full peach that time.

"Undress and get on the bed." He ordered and you scrambled to do so, sliding the toy out and throwing it in the bathroom sink. You slid your clothes off and sat at the end of the bed like a good girl, he came in not even a minute later, only in his pants and holding the peeled and cut fruit on a plate in his hand. Setting it down next to you, he went to the nightstand and got the plug you had bought last week.

"Start." You hadn’t made good on the deal yet, but he knew you would. When you picked up the first piece, you were relieved it wasn't nearly as slimy or sticky as the canned stuff, but you were kind of full from the previous parts, as well as what you swallowed of Jaemin's release. You were feeling impatient, so you scarfed it down, shocking him a bit, but you were licking the last of the juice off your fingers when he came to stand in front of you. He had given you the smaller one luckily, so you didn't have much to eat.

"Roll over, get on your knees." He smacked your ass lightly and you crawled up the bed, doing so, face on the sheets, butt in the air. He grinned, your slick folds had dripped down over your pucker. He opened the cap of the bottle, you shivered when the slightly cold fluid hit your rim. You had expected the tip of his finger, or even the end of the plug, but you gasped when instead, his tongue ran around your back entrance. It was peach flavored not just scented.

"Fuck, 'Min." It was an odd sensation, but not totally unwelcome. He noted that the lube had a very artificial taste, he much preferred the real thing, but if it was you he eating instead, that was fine. After a few minutes, he pulled his face away, licking his lips, then picked up the plug.

The toy was pretty small, but he still slathered it in lube, as well as your rim. He watched the muscle flutter around the silicone, and you whined a bit.

"Breathe." He coached and slid the plug into your ass. Your breath hitched, then you sighed and relaxed once it was in.

"How's that, baby girl?" Jaemin stroked the skin of your ass cheek with his thumb, your cunt visibly fluttering.

"W-weird." You admitted, and he hummed.

"Jaemin~" You practically squealed when the head of his dick ran through your slick folds, but he was taking his take actually starting to press in.

"Please!" You wanted to cry, needing him and so he relented, sliding home. You let out a slight choking noise, the burn of his cock stretching you so fast and hard, along with the plug in your ass, was overwhelming. He was nice enough to let you adjust to the new sensation of having something in both wholes, but it always took a while for you to get used to his cock. From behind he reached the deepest part of your cunt, and your tight gummy walls gripped to every ridge and vein of him. There was no verbal warning for him starting, but you saw his hands rest on and grip the head board, prompting you to do the same with the sheets.

"Fuck, princess!" He laughed in glee, not trying to be gentle in any sense, bullying his cock into your pussy as hard as he could, like he was rearranging your insides. Each thrust took your breath away, making you nearly hyperventilate. He was spewing the sweetest filth, praising you and your cute little cunt. How well you took his fat cock, and how much he loved fucking you stupid. You could barely babble in reply, tiny orgasms washing over you over and over.

"J-J-Jaemin-!" You dug your teeth into the pillow, the next wave coming was much stronger.

"Okay, baby girl, cum for daddy~" He chuckled as you whimpered, another hand thrust, and he was even taken away by your orgasm. Your cunt clenched even tighter around his cock than he thought possibly, spurts of slick spilling from your cunt, dripping and puddling onto the sheets. It was too much, too hot, that he made a few more shallow thrusts, then spilled inside you. You milked him dry, it felt like, and it made an even bigger mess. He sat inside you till he had nearly softened all the way, letting you calm down some and slowly pulling out. His finger circled the base of the plug, the end of it had a little emoji peach on it.

"You like peaches now, princess?”

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[jennamoran]

The Far Roofs: Systems

Hi!

Today I’m going to talk a little bit more about my forthcoming RPG, the Far Roofs. More specifically, I want to give a general overview of its game mechanics!

So the idea that first started the Far Roofs on the road to being its own game came out of me thinking a lot about what large projects feel like.

I was in one of those moods where I felt like the important thing in an RPG system was the parallel between that system and real-world experience. Where I felt like the key to art was always thinking about the end goal, or at least a local goal, as one did the work; and, the key to design was symmetry between the goals and methods, the means and ends.

I don't always feel that way, but it's how I work when I'm feeling both ambitious and technical.

So what I wanted to do was come up with an RPG mechanic that was really like the thing it was simulating:

Finding answers. Solving problems. Doing big things.

And it struck me that what that felt like, really, was a bit like ...

You get pieces over time. You wiggle them around. You try to fit them together. Sometimes, they fit together into larger pieces and then eventually a whole. Sometimes you just collect them and wiggle them around until suddenly there's an insight, an oh!, and you now know everything works.

The ideal thing to do here would probably be having a bag of widgets that can fit together in different ways---not as universally as Legos or whatever, but, like, gears and connectors and springs and motors and whatever. If I were going to be building a computer game I would probably think along those lines, anyway. You'd go to your screen of bits and bobs and move them around with your mouse until it hooked together into something that you liked.

... that's not really feasible for a tabletop RPG, though, at least, not with my typical financial resources. I could probably swing making that kind of thing, finding a 3d printing or woodworking partner or something to make the pieces, for the final kickstarter, but I don't have the resources to make a bunch of different physical object sets over time while I'm playtesting.

So the way I decided that I could implement this was by drawing letter tiles.

That I could do a system where you'd draw letter tiles ... not constantly, not specifically when you were working, but over time; in the moments, most of all, that could give you insight or progress.

Then, at some point, you'd have enough of them.

You'd see a word.

That word'd be your answer.

... not necessarily the word itself, but, like, what the word means to you and what the answer means to you, those would be the same.

The word would be a symbol for the answer that you've found, as a player and a character.

(The leftover letters would then stick around in your hand, bits of thought and experience that didn't directly lead to a solution there, but might help with something else later on.)

Anyway, I figured that this basic idea was feasible because, like, lots of people own Scrabble sets. Even if you don't, they're easier to find than sets of dice!

For a short indie game focused on just that this would probably have been enough of a mechanic all on its own. For a large release, though, the game needed more.

After thinking about it I decided that what it wanted was two more core resolution systems:

One, for stuff like, say ... kickstarter results ... where you're more interested in "how well did this do?" or "how good of an answer is this?" than in whether those results better fit AXLOTL or TEXTUAL. For this, I added cards, which you draw like letter tiles and combine into poker hands. A face card is probably enough for a baseline success, a pair of Kings would make the results rather exciting, and a royal flush result would smash records.

The other core system was for like ... everyday stuff. For starting a campfire or jumping a gap. That, by established RPG tradition, would use dice.

...

I guess technically it didn't have to; I mean, like, most of my games have been diceless, and in fact we've gotten to a point in the hobby where that's just "sort of unusual" instead of actually rare.

But, like, I like dice. I do. If I don't use them often, it's because I don't like the empty page of where to start in the first place building a bespoke diced system when I have so many good diceless systems right there.

... this time, though, I decided to just go for it.

--

The Dice System

So a long, long time ago I was working on a game called the Weapons of the Gods RPG. Eos Press had brought me in to do the setting, and somewhere in the middle of that endeavor, the game lost its system.

I only ever heard Eos' side of this, and these days I tend to take Eos' claims with a grain of salt ... but, my best guess is that all this stuff did happen, just, with a little more context that I don't and might not ever know?

Anyway, as best as I remember, the first writer they had doing their system quit midway through development. So they brought in a newer team to do the system, and halfway through that the team decided they'd have more fun using the system for their own game, and instead wrote up a quick alternate system for Weapons of the Gods to use.

This would have been fine if the alternate system were any good, but it was ... pretty obviously a quick kludge. It was ...

I think the best word for it would be "bad."

I don't even like the system they took away to be their own game, but at least I could believe that it was constructed with love. It was janky but like in a heartfelt way.

The replacement system was more the kind of thing where if you stepped in it you'd need a new pair of shoes.

It upset me.

It upset me, and so, full wroth, I decided to write a system to use for the game.

Now, I'd never done a diced system before at that point. My only solo game had been Nobilis. So I took a bunch of dice and started rolling them, to see ... like ... what the most fun way of reading them was.

Where I landed, ultimately, was looking for matches.

The core system for Weapons of the Gods was basically, roll some number of d10s, and if you got 3 4s, that was a 34. If you got 2 9s, that was a 29. If your best die was a 7 and you had no pairs at all, you got 1 7. 17.

It didn't have any really amazing statistical properties, but the act of rolling was fun. It was rhythmic, you know, you'd see 3 4s and putting them together into 34 was a tiny tiny dopamine shot at the cost of basically zero brain effort. It was pattern recognition, which the brain tends to enjoy.

I mean, obviously, it would pall in a few minutes if you just sat there rolling the dice for no reason ... but, as far as dice rolling goes, it was fun.

So when I went to do an optional diced system for the Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG, years later, to post here on tumblr ... I already knew what would make that roll fun. That is, rolling a handful of dice and looking for matches.

What about making it even more fun?

... well, critical results are fun, so what about adding them and aiming to have a lot of them, though still like rare enough to surprise?

It made sense to me to call no matches at all a critical failure, and a triple a critical success. So I started fiddling with dice pool size to get the numbers where I wanted them.

I'm reconstructing a bit at this point, but I imagine that I hit 6d10 and was like: "these are roughly the right odds, but this is one too many dice to look at quickly on the table, and I don't like that critical failure would be a bit more common than crit success."

So after some wrestling with things I wound up with a dice pool of 5d6, which is the dice pool I'm still using today.

If you roll 5d6, you'll probably get a pair. But now and then, you'll get a triple (or more!) My combinatorics is rusty, so I might have missed a case, but, like ... 17% of the time, triples, quadruples, or quintuples? And around 9% chance, for no matches at all?

I think I was probably looking for 15% and 10%, that those were likely my optimum, but ... well, 5d6 comes pretty close. Roughly 25% total was about as far as I thought I could push critical results while still having them feel kind or rare. Like ...

If I'm rolling a d20 in a D&D-like system, and if I'm going to succeed on an 18+, that's around when success is exciting, right? Maybe 17+, though that's pushing it? So we want to fall in the 15-20% range for a "special good roll." And people have been playing for a very long time now with the 5% chance of a "1" as a "special bad roll," and that seemed fine, so, like, 20-25% chance total is good.

And like ...

People talk a lot about Rolemaster crit fail tables in my vicinity, and complain about the whiff fests you see in some games where you keep rolling and rolling and nothing good or bad actually happens, and so I was naturally drawn to pushing crit failure odds a bit higher than you see in a d20-type game.

Now, one way people in indie circles tend to address "whiff fests" is by rethinking the whole dice-rolling ... paradigm ... so you never whiff; setting things up, in short, so that every roll means something, and every success and failure mean something too.

It's a leaner, richer way of doing things than you see in, say, D&D.

... I just didn't feel like it, here, because the whole point of things was to make dice rolling fun. I wanted people coming out of traditional games to be able to just pick up the dice and say "I'm rolling for this!" because the roll would be fun. Because consulting the dice oracle here, would be fun.

So in the end, that was the heart of it:

A 5d6 roll, focusing on the ease of counting matches and the high but not exorbitant frequency of special results.

But at the same time ...

I'm indie enough that I do really like rolls where, you know, every outcome is meaningful. Where you roll, and there's never a "whiff," just a set of possible meaningful outcomes.

A lot of the time, where I'm leaning into "rolls are fun, go ahead and roll," what it means to succeed, to fail, to crit, all that's up to the group, and sometimes it'll be unsatisfying. Other times, you'll crit succeed or crit fail and the GM will give you basically the exact same result as you'd have gotten on a regular success or failure, just, you know, jazzing up the description a bit with more narrative weight.

But I did manage to pull out about a third of the rolls you'll wind up actually making and assign strong mechanical and narrative weight to each outcome. Where what you were doing was well enough defined in the system that I could add some real meat to those crits, and even regular success and regular failure.

... though that's a story, I think, to be told some other time. ^_^

[shares-a-vest]

🍹 If You Like Pina Coladas 🍹

wc: 1.5k | Rated: M for Mild Suggestive Language, Sexual Humour, Mention of a handjob | cw: Alcohol Consumption (Not excessive – Eddie makes two Pina Coladas)

Tags: Hot Tub, Steve Harrington’s House, Cocktails, Flirting, Established Relationship, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Body Worship (just a smidge as Eddie ogles his boyfriend)

Note: A while back I was looking through 1980s furniture advertisements and stumbled across several Jacuzzi ads, so I decided the Harringtons needed one hehe. And thank you to the STWG discord for always indulging my silly ideas, even if it takes me months to bring them to life 💜

🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹

Eddie leans across the countertop of Family Video and kicks up his feet, grinning at his boyfriend despite the grumpy, pouty-boy frown creasing Steve’s brow.

“Come on, Stevie,” he insists, “What’s got your jeans in a such a twist?”

He rests his chin on his hands and tilts his head to the side, all innocent but nonetheless expectant. Steve has been sulking all week and Eddie is certain it has something to do with the fact that his folks have been home for an entire month now.

It has been tough on him too – what with their Private Boyfriend Time being cut down to whenever Wayne isn’t home. Which, considering his roaster right now, isn’t a whole lot of time for much of anything.

Plus, the novelty of boning in Steve’s car wore off about halfway through the first time. As it turns out, the back cab of the Beemer isn’t exactly all that spacious – nor is it conducive to avoiding a leg cramp so severe that Eddie almost got kicked straight in the head by his lover.

Eddie hums, thinking back to just what he was doing before the near-collision.

Steve stands upright to reach into the breast pocket of his tight navy-blue polo – one with four whole buttons the tease keeps undone in order to expose maximum chest hair. He produces a flimsy and tattered scrap of paper that looks to have been cut out of a magazine.

Steve sucks in a breath, unfurls the paper and hands it over.

“A hot tub?”

Eddie gawks at the advertisement in Steve’s hand and his boyfriend groans at his excitement.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, collapsing forward against the counter and Eddie’s heart flutters at their regained proximity, “My parents had it delivered a few days ago.”

Eddie delicately lays out the advertisement on the sliver of counter space between them and runs his finger over the picture, circling the rounded edges of the featured hot tub. He then moves to trace the hairline of the male model in the picture, a Fabio-looking dude who is having the time of his life sipping on a cocktail, accompanied by a pretty blonde toasting to his rugged masculinity.

“And this is bad, how?” he asks, looking up to find his boyfriend looking more than a little grumpy.

“Well, for one thing I have to make it down to the Post Office before closing to pick up some pump plug thing,” Steve grouses, all pouty with that bitchy lilt he gets (and that Eddie loves).

“Pump plug…” Eddie murmurs, transfixed as his greedy gaze makes its way down the long, tanned column of Steve’s neck…

To his chest, which is a lot more appealing than that of Jacuzzi Fabio Guy.

“Yeah, and guess who has to figure out how to get the stupid thing up and running by the time they get back?”

Eddie snaps to attention and smiles as sweet and innocent as he can muster.

“When do they get back?”

Steve looks at his watch, “They left about an hour ago and come back Monday night.”

Eddie leans over a little more – at least as much as he can before the counter begins to cut into his stomach.

“Stevie,” he coos, wiggling his brows, “My darling boyfriend.”

He abandons his fingering of the advertisement to reach for a lock of hair to twirl. Eddie giggles, dipping his chin as he bats his dark lashes.

“What?” Steve purses his lips before it all sinks in, “ – Wait. Oh, no!”

Call him selfish, but Eddie gives Steve no choice when it comes to the matter of getting the new Harrington Family Jacuzzi up and running. First, he mans Family Video so Steve can head to the Post Office for his pump plug-thing – an item he cannot bring himself to think about without chuckling a little, ‘tee-hee’. Then, when Steve returns with a box that contains said pump plug, Eddie helps his boyfriend read through the instructions before he heads on over to Melvad’s for some supplies.

It is going to be perfect.

Warm and bubbly.

Sensuous.

Private.

Eddie later finds himself buzzing out of his skin, rocking on his heels from his position right behind Steve as his boyfriend fires the bad boy up, pump plug plugged, and all.

“Great,” Eddie says, flapping the instruction manual in his hand, “Now we just have to wait for it to warm up.”

Steve huffs as he stands up and wipes at his sweaty brow – a sign of a manly job well done. He insists on washing up, so Eddie changes into his black boardshorts and sets about making them cocktails.

And yeah, he might have taken the advertisement out of the wastebasket in Steve’s bedroom while his boyfriend was showering in order to replicate Fabio Jacuzzi Guy’s alcoholic beverages. Sue him for wanting a romantic, catalogue-inspired evening – Pina Coladas included.

Eddie is all set up and ready to go as he lingers by the new outdoor accessory, waiting on bated breath for Steve to finally make his way out onto the back patio. The Hot tub is bubbling away like a hot spring, the inviting, steamy warmth every bit the picture painted in the advertisement Steve so thoroughly poo-poohed all afternoon.

But when Steve drops his towel, Eddie’s face drops.

“Why aren’t you wearing that tantalising little red speedo of yours?”

“Eddie, it’s freezing out here,” Steve argues, shivering as he looks out over the backyard.

Eddie grumbles and turns to the hot tub. He licks his lips, deciding what would be the most logical way of stepping up into the warm waters as he balances the two fruity cocktails in his hands.

“It’s what the bubbles are for, sweetheart,” he says, swinging his leg over the rounded boarder of the tub.

And in a second Steve is by his side, looping an arm around his waist to guide him. Eddie grins and pushes one of the cocktails into Steve’s hand.

“Oh, Pina Colada,” Steve beams.

They settle onto opposite sides of the hot tub – optimal positioning, if Eddie does say so himself! It allows him to get a good, greedy look at Steve, who is now preoccupied with trying to get his plush, pink lips around his straw without poking himself in the eye with the little yellow umbrella sticking out the top of his drink.

Eddie puffs out his chest and takes a sip of his own drink.

“Wait, is that my b-boombox?” Steve says mid-gulp, looking over Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie nods with enthusiasm.

“Thought it could be romantic,” he coos.

He sets his drink on a coaster near the boombox and carefully makes his way to his boyfriend. He wades through the warm water, stepping carefully – his body tingling as the tub’s jet streams rush hot water against him. It lights a fire in his belly and leaves him looking Steve up and down like he is something he could just eat right up.

Because the thing is, in this heat – with Steve’s perpetually warm body – the whole atmosphere is giving his beautiful skin a delicate sheen that is both arousing and oh-so-shiny. Like Steve is some precious thing made of gold. A God, even.

Eddie settles in close, his cheeks burning up as his arm touches Steve’s, sending a bolt of electricity through his body. Down his body.

“Steve,” he breathes, leaning into his partner’s neck.

“Eddie, this isn’t a porno,” Steve deadpans.

“You sure about that?” Eddie teases, reaching down to cup Steve through his boardshorts and rub.

It gives his boyfriend a jolt and Steve chokes out this stifled little whimper and all Eddie can do is chuckle into the bare skin of his shoulder. He bites him for good measure, earning a hiss. But Steve melts at the touch, sinking down a little in his seat.

“Eddie,” he whispers, screwing his eyes shut – damn his willpower, “You cannot jerk me off in my parent’s Jacuzzi.”

“Oh,” Eddie grins, pretending he is utterly scandalised by such a suggestion, “Who said it was going to be a mere handjob?”

Steve reaches down and wraps his meaty paw around Eddie’s wrist. He brings it up to the surface and interlaces their fingers.

“That so?”

Eddie narrows his eyes.

“Smooth operator.”

“Dork,” Steve leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek, “Wanna go upstairs?”

“After we finish our beverages.”

Eddie pushes himself off from their side of the hot tub and accidentally propels himself a little too hard to the other side. He reaches out a flailing limb to catch something in a desperate search for purchase.

But his hand knocks over his Pina Colada, spilling it directly into the hot tub. He grapples for the edge of the tub and momentarily dunks his entire goddamn head beneath the surface.

“O-ops,” he splutters when he comes up for air, spitting bubbly, hot water from his mouth.

He shakes drenched hair from his face, only to be met with Steve’s frown.

[hbmmaster]

how many games are there?

"how many normal play partizan games are born on or before Day 4" is an unanswered question that, depending on how much you know about game theory (the mathematical field of study, not the youtube series) either doesn't mean anything, sounds like something we really should have an answer to, or sounds like something that probably cannot be answered with existing technology.

normal play partizan games

I recommend this video (RIP Owen) as an introduction to the concept, but this is a very specific type of "game". these are turn-based perfect-information games for two players, conventionally named Left and Right.

every game (or game position, or game state) is defined in terms of what options the two players have from that game state, if it is their turn while the game is in that state. these options are themselves defined by what state the game enters when that option is chosen.

the "normal play convention" part means that if it is your turn and you have no options, you lose and the other player wins. ties are not possible.

the standard notation for games used in combinatorial game theory is the form {L|R}, where L is Left's set of options and R is Right's set of options.

equivalence

one important concept to understand for this problem is the comparison of games, and in particular when two games are equal to each other. I again recommend watching the video I linked, but here's the short version.

two games G and H can be "added together" to form a new game, G+H. the way the game G+H is played is that on your turn you can either make a move in the G part and do nothing in the H part, or make a move in the H part and do nothing in the G part. the normal play convention still applies: you lose and the other player wins once you don't have any options in either part of the combined game.

it's also possible to subtract one game from another game by adding its "negative". the negative of a game is simply the game where Left's options are all the negatives of Right's options from the original game, and Right's options are all the negatives of Left's options from the original game. in essence, the two players are swapped.

so then, for reasons that make sense but I am not going to get into, two games G and H are said to be equivalent to each other if G-H, the sum of G and the negative of H, equals some game where if both players are playing optimally, the second player wins.

the birthday property

since these games are defined recursively in terms of what other games can be reached from them, all "finite games" can be generated in an iterative process, building a new batch of games out of the games you got from the previous iteration ("day"). this is called the "birth" of a game, and the "day" a game is "born" on is, naturally, its "birthday".

on Day 0, no games exist, so the only possible set of games that can be used to make more games is the empty set. the only game born on Day 0 is {|}, conventionally called "0".

on Day 1, two possible sets exist: the empty set, and the set containing 0. so, there are four games born on or before Day 1 and their conventional symbols:

{|} = 0

{|0} = -1

{0|} = 1

{0|0} = *

Day 2 is somewhat more complicated but not by much. now that more than one game exists, sets with more than one game can be used as options. but for advanced game theory reasons, only some of these sets actually work for generating unique games. a total of twenty-two games are born on or before Day 2:

{|} = 0

{|0} = -1

{0|} = 1

{0|0} = *

{|-1} = -2

{-1|-1} = -1*

{-1|0} = -½

{*|0} = ↓

{0|0,*} = ↓*

{0,*|0,*} = *2

{0,*|0} = ↑*

{0|*} = ↑

{0|1} = ½

{1|1} = 1*

{1|} = 2

{0|-1} = -½±½

{1|-1} = ±1

{1|0} = ½±½

{*|-1}

{0,*|-1}

{1|0,*}

{1|*}

I don't think those last four have established symbols besides their {L|R} definitions, but this stuff is not that easy to look up.

anyway, once you get to Day 3 things explode, and now there's 1474 games! and beyond that it's an open question.

on Day 4 we know that there are at least three trillion of them, but there could be anywhere as high as 5.2x10^443, a number on a googological scale.

if it turns out the final answer is somewhere in the trillions then it might be possible to brute force the full list with enough computing power and time, but the space of possible games that need to be checked is simply too vast.

anyway that's neat isn't it

[vampirzina]

could you please write something nsfw with smoke, him getting riled up because he had a dream horny about his partner and seeing her just chilling around the house is enough to get him flustered again thinking about it.. thank you!!!

☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ ┊Fog. (nsfw)

Tomas finds himself in a tough situation… A kind of fog, if you will… tomas vrbada x reader

tw: fem!reader (but only ‘you/your’ used), nsfw, mdni, established relationship, oneshot (?), dry humping

notes: good news for mk11 yearners: i have added that timelines’ raiden (previously was only fujin)! so if you have any requests about raiden, it would help to specify which, but i will always assume new era raiden. all love, and enjoy your fic anon!

masterlist

Tomas’ abstinence brought on by rigorous work gave more than just focus on the future and perfected skills as a Shirai Ryu ninja and teacher. Yet when the day was done, his head was always free to roam elsewhere. Perhaps that’s why he’s having this dream about you right now.

All the fleeting thoughts he had about you that he pushed away hadn’t been going away, like it should’ve, but settling into a damp dream. A dream where he’d get you in the sheets, and do what he’s been wanting to do to you for weeks now.

Tomas lets out a misty sigh.

Your featherlight touch that smoothed its way up his arm stop at his biceps to give them each a loving squeeze. You smile keenly from below him, “Finally… Was wondering when you’d come to me.”

“Sorry, baby. I really am. Kuai Liang and the others need me,” he’d apologize with more than just his words. Tomas’ solid want pushes further into your clothed core—it was whatever you wore to bed the night of this dream that only made him realize how badly he wanted you further… Not that this is anything you don’t usually wear. It’s you yourself, always, clothed or not, making everything infinitely more hotter.

You hum, sounding unconvinced but you know it was true. “I don’t know why you do the things you do. What made you think you could last so long without this? Remember when you came just from me sitting here?”

Tomas caught the moan in his throat as his hips bucked into your hands that touched his lap, then his inner thigh that’s dangerously close to his begging dick. You give that tender spot on him a squeeze, too. Steel eyes don’t leave your lust-squinted ones as you take in his wound up state—poor Tomas, you think. Between the two of you, only one of you knows it’s just a dream.

Still.

“Mmh—bring yourself... Like this,” you slide your hands up and across to his hips, guiding them right where you wanted them against you. “We have all night to do what you want. But fuck me like this, first.”

If that’s what you want, he’ll do it. Just as long as it’s touching you in some way, making you feed his eyes and therefore his carnal lust-ridden mind—he’ll do it. Tomas readily repositions his hands on your hips to bring you flush to him—you mewl when you feel him throb firmly there—and he pulls you secure atop of him as he takes your previous place on the pillows.

Tomas is so into this, he doesn’t realize the pictures on the wall blur or look any different than what is normally of them; or that the nightstand you use to rest the lamp on is void, yet the room is painted in a warm golden hue. He’s completely shrouded in his minds’ fog to give those constants the time of day.

Instead, he focuses on using his hands on your hips to grind you over and over his clothed crotch, as close as the universe would allow. He curses under his breath when you moan just the way he likes, unyielding and sweetly, the feeling you clench around yourself spurring him on to use you to get off.

Your sounds are impeded by Tomas’ roughness, only going octaves higher when he begins to thrust himself in sync to his guidance of your frame. Your entire body jerks with each new motion of friction. With the increasing pace of his work, Tomas can feel your wetness soak through your clothes and stain his dick through his own—he bites his lip at the sound of cloth dulling from the shared juices of your arousals.

Your hands don’t know where to go, other than his own over your hips and his chest. He was gripping so tight there, you didn’t need to ponder if you’d bruise later.

You felt him close, hearing him closer. Tomas’ could hardly breathe beyond this point. You cry out for him, and he grunts in return when he feels your pulsing orgasm. It’s almost too much for you once it wanes, and you begin to writhe in his grasp. He wanted to tell you to hold out a little longer for him, that he’s close, but something was off when you leaned down to kiss him.

He could have swore he felt the kiss a second ago…

…But it was much different when he woke. The room was a late morning’s blue, your side of the bed was finely tussled with, but it gave no clues as to where you’ve gone. Usually, you would be there to kiss his eyes awake. Instead, essentially—you left him a quiet morning in contrast to moments ago.

It took a moment to register, that you weren’t even bedside, let alone in the room at all. Tomas realizes now, by the sudden appearance of the nightstand not obscured by your beautiful frame, that it were a dream.

How embarrassing.

Tomas could only wonder if you were witness to any of that, as he’d clean himself up and promptly find different boxers to wear; those ones were only a bit stained from his dream from his rock-solid wood that he’ll have to work out later.

Tomas knew that he couldn’t go on like this, and knew that even if you were his, it was still wildly inappropriate. Perhaps he was better off just asking you, because surely you were saving yourself for that moment in real life, too, right?

Regardless.

Tomas had found where you’d gone when he ambled out of the room to see you lounging away on the couch, your attention away from the room and subsequently him coming out of it. You didn’t expect him to wake anytime soon, but alas. You finally noticed him in your peripheral, just as he passed you.

“Good morning, lazy,” you call from your spot, not looking away from whatever it was that you were doing. “You look like you’re spending your day off right. How was the sleep in?”

Tomas, unable to make simple eye contact with you now, hummed affirmatively. You would’ve taken that if you didn’t hear him exhale so loudly the way that he did.

Now you look up… He looks frustrated. Troubled. You had guessed that he would be when he woke, figuring that the small moans, red face and squirming in his sleep would do it. You could smirk to yourself, if it didn’t have the chance to give you away on what you saw in the middle of the night. Instead you remain silent.

Tomas can’t even make his food without his thoughts churning.

You were still wearing that, the same clothes in his dream. Your tone of voice, identical to the teasing one you used on him. How would you feel, if he wanted to ruin his clothes again with you? Except—no barrier for you, this time. He wanted you bent over the armchair, forget the mattress.

Thoroughly red all over again, Tomas barely catches himself staring at you—and the utensil he was grabbing—and he clumsily curses. He was lucky that you weren’t paying attention (or so he thinks). He apologizes to no-one, and sighs.

“I wasn’t sure why you were out of it all last night, but I’m glad to know it’s because of me, Tomas,” you only joke, tilting your head to the side. But the joke makes Tomas shamefully, sheepishly grin.

“Lucky for you, we have the whole day to fix that.”

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

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