#claiming to have only the fun parts of a system

[thedetectivesystem]

i wonder if endos know that “system” is a medical term for people with did/osdd

[dangoulains-devotion]

every time I have to wade through inane ship wars where people are willfully ignorant to the depth and facets of cloud strife's character, circumstance, and story just so I can find some cool screenshots or fanart my 'cloud is ace' agenda simply grows more potent out of spite

[prokopetz]

I think a lot of folks in indie RPG spaces misunderstand what's going on when people who've only ever played Dungeons & Dragons claim that indie RPGs are categorically "too complicated". Yes, it's sometimes the case that they're making the unjustified assumption that all games are as complicated as Dungeons & Dragons and shying away from the possibility of having to brave a steep learning cure a second time, but that's not the whole picture.

A big part of it is that there's a substantial chunk of the D&D fandom – not a majority by any means, but certainly a very significant minority – who are into D&D because they like its vibes or they enjoy its default setting or whatever, but they have no interest in actually playing the kind of game that D&D is... so they don't.

Oh, they'll show up at your table, and if you're very lucky they might even provide their own character sheet (though whether it adheres to the character creation guidelines is anyone's guess!), but their actual engagement with the process of play consists of dicking around until the GM tells them to roll some dice, then reporting what number they rolled and letting the GM figure out what that means.

Basically, they're putting the GM in the position of acting as their personal assistant, onto whom they can offload any parts of the process of play that they're not interested in – and for some players, that's essentially everything except the physical act of rolling the dice, made possible by the fact most of D&D's mechanics are either GM-facing or amenable to being treated as such.*

Now, let's take this player and present them with a game whose design is informed by a culture of play where mechanics are strongly player facing, often to the extent that the GM doesn't need to familiarise themselves with the players' character sheets and never rolls any dice, and... well, you can see where the wires get crossed, right?

And the worst part is that it's not these players' fault – not really. Heck, it's not even a problem with D&D as a system. The problem is D&D's marketing-decreed position as a universal entry-level game means that neither the text nor the culture of play are ever allowed to admit that it might be a bad fit for any player, so total disengagement from the processes of play has to be framed as a personal preference and not a sign of basic incompatibility between the kind of game a player wants to be playing and the kind of game they're actually playing.

(Of course, from the GM's perspective, having even one player who expects you to do all the work represents a huge increase to the GM's workload, let alone a whole group full of them – but we can't admit that, either, so we're left with a culture of play whose received wisdom holds that it's just normal for GMs to be constantly riding the ragged edge of creative burnout. Fun!)

* Which, to be clear, is not a flaw in itself; a rules-heavy game ideally needs a mechanism for introducing its processes of play gradually.

[malwaredykes]

well. here she is. miss Leigh Stasik.

trans woman. stubborn, incorrigible, eccentric. communist; she has leftist in-fighting with herself on the regular. a cannibal; she has no moral qualms about this, and its both a bit of a spiritual thing and a bit of a pragmatic thing. medic (not a doctor. no medical license). she knows for sure she had some kind of significant personality change from being shot in the head, but she doesn't remember what she was like exactly before it happened, it all became this kind of distant memory soup. shes originally from west new cali, but she grew very attached to the mojave. and has a lot of contempt for the ncr. She Will Serve Crack Before She Serves This Country. thank god the army discriminates against transsexuals etc. zero tolerance for the legion, obviously.

she firmly believes she is not nice, or kind, or compassionate, but instead her actions and her general sense of justice stem from her simply doing whats the most logical and objectively beneficial. it may be true to some extent, but she might also have a wee bit of ocd of the "i am a horrible person whos at all times like 2 seconds away from committing atrocities" variety.

shes a SCIENTIST. unofficially. she doesnt have a degree nor a chosen field of study. she makes her own hrt and other mysterious concoctions, including designer chems. which she claims she ingests injects etc not for recreational purposes, but to Enhance Her Powers And Possibilities. she reads old world books about psychology so she can manipulate people better. and makes weird contraptions and doohickeys while high. shes a HACKER of course and hacks terminals and systems for fun and just to see if she can.

her stats are out there due to implants and intense training, originally they were rather average. in-game she wears combat armor mk 2, but i see her having spruced it up like this. her main weapon is the ycs/186, the unique gauss rifle, but before that she used a modded plasma pistol. which she very much enjoyed the silly appearance of. because it was so small and with so much shit tacked on and she could just hold it in one hand like a mutated revolver like Hands up motherfucker bang bang bang lol. her melee weapon of choice is the machete gladius, but she's been training to be able to wield a thermic lance.

in my head the trajectory of her actions and the fate of the mojave that follows is different from what you can do with the game, because leigh could only go for The Secret Leftist Route Which Was Supposed To Be In The Game But We Were Robbed Of It.

boone was the first friend she made after leaving goodsprings and their relationship is particularly notable. they are Comrades, Siblings-In-Arms, Worsties (like besties but fucked up). theyve seen each other at their worst. they annoy each other on purpose. theyve had serious ideological clashes with each other and some ways in which boone perceives the world drive leigh absolutely nuts. they're ride or die for each other. theyre the kind of comfortable around each other where she'll be on the toilet and smoking a cig with the door open and talking to him, while he's naked sitting on the floor removing stitches from his leg. she's done surgery without anesthesia on him. he's projectile vomited blood on her from being poisoned by cazadores. she strongly encourages him to become a traitor to the ncr and to take part in the revolution and the formation of the new independent mojave alliance. somehow, it works on him in the end. shamefully they kinda like snuggling... boone bro come to bed man its nighty night man its beddy bye time.

shes in love with lily bowen. i havent decided yet whether she actually makes a move. but she thinks lily is sooooo dreamy. and shes right. if you dont think the enormous 203 year old blue mutant woman is dreamy thats your problem. outta her way

[idkfitememate]

A Boar? In This Economy? Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN!Boar Reader x Genshin World

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 922

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Crack, fluff, found family

So, SAGAU right? Imposter ver specifically, right? Alllll of Teyvat has been ruled by some asshole who claims to be the creator, right?

Welp.

It’s time for you to get your ass isekai’d!

One problem though….

Instead of getting your phone, or having all the elements under your belt, or anything else…

You’re a boar.

Not like a “BiG tUsK sPeCiAl PaTtErN” boar.

Just a boar you can find in the starting areas of Mondstadt that just so happens to have golden blood.

Fun.

Hell, when you first woke up, you were confused on why you were short. And why you were in fours. And hairy. And why your mouth felt so damn heavy. And dragging yourself to a small pound, you figured out why.

Shaggy brown hair and small beady black eyes staring back at you. Large, off white tusks block your forward vision so you move to the side in order to see yourself better. Designs in a darker brown line your fur, a small tail flailing in the wind.

And that is how you spent your first few months in Genshin Impact.

A simple boar trying their damnest to not die.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Apparently spending time by yourself makes the human mind bored (pun intended).

So.

You decided to build a boar friendly base in the trees.

You noted that all mobs weren’t hostile to you, most likely due to your god status. That and Teyvat was willing to literally bend itself backwards in order to ensure your survival. Making sure only the freshest of fruits fell to your feet, ensuring that the waters were calm when you wanted to swim, and that the winds would gently blow you off, making your fur all fluffy, so on and so forth.

It was especially nice when a hunter had their sights set on you, only for a pack of hilichurl to appear and slaughter the man, the ground swallowing him up.

Now, the first few times it was fucking horrifying, but then you kinda realized you they didn’t do that, you’d be super dead right now, so you pushed an apple over in thanks and took all the headpats you could get from the group.

Anyway, back to the main topic.

You got bored (pun intended again) of living on the ground where anyone could find you and kill you, and that was no fun! So you found a nice mountain side (since you didn’t have a map, you couldn’t say right off the top of your head where you were but you knew full well it was by Dragonspine. Gods you were so cold… but I’d be worth it!-) with a nice forest next to it, and began building.

With the help of nearby mita and lawachurls and - of course - Teyvat itself, you carved into the side of the mountain, creating a cave system that only a being as short as you could traverse. Then, you connected them to a large treehouse system and continued to work on said treehouse system. Someone would have to be focusing damn hard and not fighting the actual army of churls and slimes and other beasts that made their way to stay beneath your home to actually see… well your home.

And up you went.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍰🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

More months had passed, and confirmed many things for you.

A. The true “Imposter” had came here long before you.

B. They very weren’t a boar.

C. You did have a human form, but your “Creator” form had a boar as a symbolic animal.

Which, while initially was a little insulting, you came to (reluctantly) agree that, yeah. That was unfortunately pretty accurate.

You could be a bit sloppy at times, keeping a good appearance wasn’t at the absolute top of your list, as well as eating well… or drinking, but still!

You continued your now lavish boar life in the trees and caves, no longer bored (I’m not sorry for reusing this pun.).

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍫🍦🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ��˚

You had been in Teyvat for… a year now? No one suspected a boar of being the true creator, everyone was still being treated like shit by the “creator” and you were still tucked away in your little forest/cave structure home.

You got a little curious, and well?

You found that you could - in fact - do something cool!

You could control the elements! Outside of Teyvat just doing things that were in your best interests. You could grow vines! And spit fire! And burp lightning and squeal hard and loud enough that it created a whirlwind!

You could part the seas like Moses!

…

Anyway-

You may have gotten a bit carried away, feeling secure in where you were. So you let the churls braid some parts of your fur, and paint it… and they gave you a mask.

And you’d chase seelies. And rest with slimes.

And just do a lot of shit that most boars definitely couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t do.

And unfortunately, one night when you were doing a fire dance with one of your favorite hilichurl camps. (They were the ones to kill that first hunter. They also gave you your first mask and paint job).

Completely enveloped in the current happenstance, while you breathed large balls of fire into the night that somehow didn’t injure a single being nor set a single tree alight…

You missed the boy who believed he was a wolf watching from the shadows.

…Oops?

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I’m shocked people actually like this thingy lol. Part 2 is on the way! As a treat, I fixed up some typos and fixed some grammar mistakes!

Have a good day/night dears! <3 ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

P. S. Now I made a tag as well!

[pluralasking]

#One-Hundred

[pt: #one-hundred]

In order to celebrate 100 days of posting, here are 100 questions for you to answer! You can either answer them all at once, or let others send in the numbers they are most curious about!

Some of them are general questions, others are just really silly and should not be taken too serious. I put a lot of effort into coming up with all of these, so I truely hope you have fun with this!

For simplicity sake, all questions will use the words "System" and "Members".

1. What is your System name and / or the name you collectively go by?

2. Which word do you prefer to use for your System? (example: System, Collective, Constellation, ...)

3. What are your Systems origins, if you choose to label them?

4. Do you have any Subsystems?

5. Do you have any Sidesystems?

6. What is your opinion on you& / your& language and similar types?

7. What methodes do you use to keep track of your System and it's Members?

8. What is your Systems ways of communication?

9. Is communication hard or easy for you (and why is it the way it is)?

10. Do you view yourselves as parts of one person or as multiple people in one body?

11. Who are you out to as plural?

12. What languages do you collectively / one of you speak?

13. What is something you can't seem to collectively agree on?

14. If you have a collective Identity (such as Gender or Orientation), what is it?

15. Do you collectively identify as queer / LGBTQIA+?

16. Do you collectively identify as Otherkin, Alterhuman or Nonhuman?

17. Do you have a collective rentry / carrd / something along those lines? (feel free to share!)

18. What does switching feel like for you?

19. Are you Monoconscious, Polyconscious or something else?

20. What does fronting feel like for you?

21. How many System members do you have?

22. Which word / words do you prefer to use for members of your System?

23. Which age group seems to be the most common in your System?

24. Which gender seems to be the most common in your System?

25. Are there any talents / hobbies you picked up because of a Member?

26. Do you have any in-system relationships?

27. Do you label roles within your System (and if yes, which ones?)

28. Are most of your Members introjected, brainmade or something else?

29. Do you use names, emojis or something similar to sign off messages (and if yes, which ones and why?)

30. Do any of your System members use Xenogenders?

31. How do Members pick face claims?

32. Do you have any Introjects of popular sources?

33. Do you have any Introjects of unpopular sources?

34. Do you have nonhuman Members?

35. Do any of you use Typing Quirks?

36. Do all of you front, or only a selected amount?

37. Are there any Members who can't or prefer to not speak?

38. Are most of you short or tall in height?

39. Is there a Member that is collectively loved by all in the System?

40. Do any of you struggle with being front-stuck a lot of the time?

41. Do you have a Headspace (if not, is there a reason)?

42. What does your Headspace look like?

43. How do Members look like in Headspace? (example: Cartoony, Foggy, Realistic, ...)

44. Is there a reason why the Headspace looks the way it looks?

45. Is it easy for you to enter Headspace?

46. Do you remember what happened in Headspace when you switch into front?

47. Does time in Headspace pass (and if yes, is it at the same speed as in real life)?

48. What is your favourite place in Headspace?

49. Are there "NPCs" within your Headspace?

50. Are there any interesting fun facts about your Headspace?

51. Are there any "System Stereotypes" you fit into?

52. Who of you would be considered the "evil alter"? (in a lighthearted, joking manner)

53. What is your favourite inside-joke with a Member?

54. What is your favourite Plural meme?

55. Is there any character that you headcanon as plural?

56. Is there any show or movie that you believe is a good plural representation, despite that not being its intention?

57. Is there any song that you believe decribes your plural experience?

58. What about an artwork that describes your plural experience?

59. Which Member of your System do you believe to be the prettiest of them all?

60. Do you collectively have a lucky number?

61. When did you first discover your System?

62. How many Members did you know about during your Syscovery?

63. Was accepting your Plurality a challenge for you?

64. How did you learn about Plurality?

65. Where there any signs of your Plurality, if you look back at your past?

66. Do you think your Syscovery changed a lot in your life?

67. If you're out to others as plural, have they ever told you later on that they already thought about it before you realised?

68. What was the biggest struggle during your Syscovery?

69. Was there any big event that led to your Syscovery?

70. What is something you want questioning plurals to know?

71. Are you Neurodivergent (and if yes, how?)

72. Do you have any physical disability?

73. Do you have a dissociative disorder?

74. Do you have any other disorder?

75. Do symptom vary in intensity depending on the fronter?

76. Do you think your disability / disorder has an influence on your plurality?

77. Do you have amnesia of any kind?

78. Are there Members who deal better with symptoms than others?

79. Do your disorders / disabilities influence communication or switching within your System in any way?

80. Does being plural help with your disorders in any way? (example: another Member switching in to take care of the body during difficult times, ...)

81. Which is your favourite plural flag?

82. If you have one, which is your favourite plurality related tumblr blog?

83. What is a fun fact about your System?

84. What is a flavour of ice cream that describes you collectively?

85. Which pride flag is the prettiest, in your collective opinion?

86. If you collectively had to choose between being a sweet or a sour candy, which do you pick?

87. Your body always morphs into what the current fronter(s) look like, would you want this power or not?

88. Is there a Hatsune Miku in your System?

89. Who has been in your System the longest (if you can remember)?

90. If you collectively had to choose, would you rather only eat sweet foods or only eat savoury foods for the rest of your life?

91. If you collectively had to choose, would you pick to become a vampire or a werewolf?

92. Your body is transfered into one of your Members sources, which do you pick and why?

93. If all of you turned into animals right this second, which animals would we find in your System?

94. What would a Minecraft server with all of your Members look like? (example: chaotic, peaceful, laggy, ...)

95. If you could choose between only living in Headspace or only living in Meatspace (real life), which would you choose?

96. What topic would you collectively make a youtube channel about? (it can't be plurality!)

97. Which superpower would your body obtain, if you had to collectively decide on one?

98. Who would pick the coolest tattoo for the System and who would pick the worst?

99. If you only were allowed to eat one food for the rest of your life, but you would have to decide on the food collectively, what would it be and what would the decision making look like?

100. What is the most fun about doing polls and answering questions, in your opinion?

[revelboo]

Thoughts/ Headcanons

Spoilers for my storylines below the cut. Not smut, but mentions of.

• First off, I’m a paranormal romance writer- vastly different lifespans between partners is pretty common. And while it’s fun to spin that angst and drama, we do tend to write in ways around it to extend the human partner’s lifespan after we’re done with having the characters dance around each other.

• First thought, seminal fluids. Cybertronians are able to self repair to an extent, figure it’s something like nanites playing the part of our own immune systems within them. And that some of those get passed along to a partner when they do the deed. And linger, adapting and doing their thing: repairing damage. A one night stand wouldn’t be enough to do much but over and over? Each time replenishing those nanites, it would begin to slow that human’s aging to a crawl as long as they’re staying intimate with that Cybertronian and neither would probably notice anything for some time. Years, most likely.

• On spark bonds, those are a bit more complicated. Almost a symbiotic relationship. They can be full bonds if both parties submit fully to each other, trust each other. Or very one sided, with one taking everything and dominating the other.

• Intentional one sided bonds would have been taboo before the war, I’d think. Almost a form of torture with one Cybertronian claiming the other, creating a dependency in the one claimed. A need to seek out the dominant to renew that bond periodically, but without any balance, any affection between the two there might have been to begin with would fall into hatred and resentment. I’d think this would have happened more often during the start of the war, if a lover was found to be sympathetic to the other side, forcing a bond to keep them from leaving. With a Cybertronian, it’d be forcing the plating over the spark chamber open to form the bond, so it’s a violent occurrence and traumatic. But one sided bonds could still occur between two willing Cybertronians if one isn’t as certain about that commitment as the other even unconsciously.

• With humans, contact with any part of our body to a spark will bridge that initial bond. And just like with Cybertronians it can be one sided or full. With a one sided bond, a human would be dependent on the Cybertronian to renew the bond occasionally so the strain doesn’t eventually kill us. Most initial bonds with humans would likely be one sided and only become full over time as both sides get past their hesitations, doubts, and hang ups. A one sided bond can be broken with the death of one partner.

• I imagine a full bond is permanent, tethering two sparks or a spark and a soul together. With Cybertronians, it’s a combining of life forces. If something happens to one, the other’s spark falters and extinguishes. With a human partner, they’re bound to their partner’s spark and their lifespan. They’ll live as long as their Cybertronian partner does, which could be its own sort of hell, outliving everyone they know. And if the two grew apart over time, fell out of love, the nature of the bond would pull them back together at least periodically to renew the bond so they don’t both suffer. And most likely, that relationship would involve the Cybertronian just refusing to let their partner go, becoming extremely possessive of protecting that bond whether the human wants to be with them anymore or not.

• About the storyline titles: a few of you have already figured it out, but they’re all Motion City Soundtrack song titles. And I know a few of you have mentioned finding comfort in the fics and that means the world to me, so in case any of you need it, these are the lyrics for “It’s a Pleasure To Meet You” by the same band as it’s sort of become my anthem for all the storylines.

You are not alone

We've all had our battles with darkness and shadows

I'm here to let you know

It's a pleasure to meet you

Can you feel it, disappearing

It'll happen, you are not alone

I've been there, I'm still there

Oh, and better

Everything is so damn tragic

Time erodes the waves of panic

Take it in

You are not alone

We've all had our battles with darkness and shadows

I'm here to let you know

It's a pleasure to meet you

Today is all we have

So try for a moment to break from the torment

And sing this to yourself

It's a pleasure to meet you

At a distance

There's a difference

Things will make sense

You are not alone

Got to hold on for the moment

Till the next one

Everything is so damn tragic

Time erodes the waves of panic

Get up

You are not alone

We've all had our battles with darkness and shadows

I'm here to let you know

It's a pleasure to meet you

Today is all we have

So try for a moment to break from the torment

And sing this to yourself

It's a pleasure to meet you

Every damn night for years of my life

I've spent driving around this miserable city

Just looking through windows at people

Alone for an answer or reason to live

But every day since, I've been peeling away

At this counterfeit skin just got in the way

I can see my reflection and clearly can say

It's a pleasure to meet you again

You are not alone

We've all had our battles with darkness and shadows

I'm here to let you know

It's a pleasure to meet you

Today is all we have

So try for a moment to break from the torment

And sing this to yourself

It's a pleasure to meet you

It's a pleasure to meet you

It's a pleasure to meet you

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Ari Levinson has a soft spot for one of his fans.

prompts. | Ari Levinson + Camboy + “Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you.” + Innocence, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!camboy!Ari Levinson x innocent!fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, camboy, age gap, stalking, implied somnophilia, implied breaking and entering, innocence kink, corruption kink, dirty talk, mild dumbification, degradation, praise, Daddy kink, smut, male masturbation, jerking off into panties, panty sniffing, reader is of age, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

When you flip open your laptop, butterflies fill your stomach. Today’s the day—the day you’ll treat yourself. Your friends insisted on it, claiming you work yourself to the bone and never have fun.

They were the ones that urged you to join the salacious streaming site. They made the account for you and left you with smirks on their faces, hoping to hear all about your adventures. You’ve never told them a thing about it, claiming you didn’t like it.

But the truth is that you love it—one streamer, in particular. His name is Ari, but he insists you call him Daddy. When he speaks, it’s as if he’s targeting you specifically. You watch his streams in a trance, practically hypnotized by his movements and words.

You have no idea what he’s doing, but every bit makes you have tingles down there. They get so intense that you just wish they would disappear, but you’re unsure how to alleviate the feeling. 

You enter Ari’s stream with a goal in mind—you’ll do a private session. Perhaps you’re a little in over your head, too shy in comparison to his envious confidence. But it’s like something you have to get out of your system, an idea that just won’t stop haunting you. 

Opening the private chat, you send the streamer your request as he casually speaks with a few regulars. When you press the deliver button, along with your hopefully-tempting amount, you squeeze your eyes shut and squeal. A small part of you wants to take it all back now, but you can’t. It’s too late. What’s done is done.

You can hear his familiar baritone, a chuckle that warms your blood. Then, the sound of keys clacking. 

Hi, princess. That’s a pretty generous offer, thank you. I’ll meet you there ;) xx Daddy.

And with that, you receive an invitation. You click it right away, missing the farewell he bids the rest of his followers and their pleas for him to stay back. Ari ignores them. 

You anxiously wait in the new stream, noticing it isn’t recording like his usual ones. He would upload those for whoever missed them, and you’d make sure to catch up on it all. 

Suddenly, Ari enters, and you take in the sight of him. He’s shirtless, and his hair is a bit messy yet still put together, as though he’s run his fingers through the tendrils repeatedly. You can see the chest hair and his well-built body. You ogle the older man shamelessly.

“Hey, sweetie pie,” he greets, setting a few things down. You unmute yourself. “H– Hi,” you squeak out, cringing at your voice. But Ari smiles as if he’s heard a beautiful piece of music. “Thank you for the offer, baby. You made Daddy real happy,” he says sincerely. 

“O- Oh, uh, yeah. No problem,” you force out. His attention on you makes you feel like you’re being inspected under a microscope, naked and vulnerable. “Can I see you, honey? I bet you’re gorgeous,” Ari hums, and you bite your lip.

You consider it. Why not? Your friends would be proud of you stepping out of your shell for once.

You turn your camera on and give him a meek smile as he whistles, admiring your beautiful face. You’re bashful under his wordless praise. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Do you like it when Daddy tells you what to do?” Ari questions. 

Nodding, you can’t stop grinning. It’s mostly out of nerves but also the work of Ari’s charm on you. You’ve never seen him be this friendly to some of his more loyal customers. The idea of being special—the exception—makes your heart beat a bit faster.

“Yeah, I bet you do. Just an obedient little pet, always ready to listen to her Daddy,” he coos, and you fiddle with the lace of your nightie. “How about you lay back a bit, honey. Let me see those tits,” he urges, and your body listens to him.

You do what Ari says without a second thought. You feel those tingles in your pussy again and a warmth that fills you up. “Attagirl. So fuckin’ sexy…” Ari mutters, moving his camera so that you can see his dick.

It’s large and a flushed colour, aching for you—and only you—to touch it. He’s thick and long, with heavy balls begging to be emptied. His tip leaks with pre-cum, and it’s a sight to behold.

You find that your mouth is watering a bit. “Fuck, you like Daddy’s dick, baby? I can see how empty that brain is—just lookin’ at it, and you go dumb,” he chuckles. 

Ari’s words are a bit mean, but you’re not insulted by them. No, in fact, you can feel your clit throbbing. You’ve never felt this way before—at least, not so intensely. 

You let out a whimper, and Ari pouts at you. “Aw, is your pussy all tingly, baby?” he asks, and you nod your head. How does he know? 

“It’s okay. Daddy’ll fix it soon,” he promises, wrapping one of his big hands on his cock. Ari begins to stroke himself before pulling away, cursing under his breath.

“Look at this, princess,” he demands, and you watch his movements intently. He has a piece of pink fabric in his hands, and it looks awfully familiar. 

There is lace trimming around it with a bow at the top that is a darker shade. Your missing pair of panties. 

You haven’t seen them since yesterday morning when you threw them in the laundry basket before rushing to work. 

You hold back a gasp, though. It must be a coincidence, surely.

“Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you,” Ari questions. “V– Very pretty, Daddy,” you quietly agree. He gives you a crooked smile before bringing the underwear to his face, inhaling deeply. Ari lets out a deep groan, chest rumbling.

“You smell so sweet,” he whispers. Ari keeps holding the panties and lowers his hand to his dick, jerking off and moaning your name, although you’ve never told him it. But your desperation is strong enough for you to ignore his blunder. “Shit, I can’t wait to teach you how to be my little slut.”

You keep whimpering and whining, rubbing your thighs together. You place your hands over your core and press down, achieving some relief, but it isn’t enough. 

To your surprise, you’ve soaked through your panties. This always happens when you attend one of Ari's streams or have an extremely vivid dream about him. 

“Gonna mould your pussy to fit my cock—stretch you out until you’re begging me to fuck you,” Ari groans, picking up the pace on his member. “Just an innocent little baby who needs her Daddy, hm?” he coos, and his movements become sloppy.

Ari’s breath becomes ragged, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the man. Your mouth parts a bit in awe when he reaches his climax, his cum spurting and dirtying the panties. The fabric collects his spend, and his chest rises and falls, head tilted back slightly as he curses. 

The older man eventually comes down from his high and smirks at the camera, staring directly into your soul. Ari loves the mild pout you have on your face—it’s just like when you’re sleeping at night, moaning his name as he fights back the urge to ruin you. But he will, one day. He has to. 

[7ndipity]

“Just a Joke”

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook decides to teach you a lesson when you poke at his jealous nerves one too many times. An expansion of this reaction post.

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, fingering(f. receiving) possessive Jungkook, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I know you said to add a lil spice, but I may have gotten a bit carried away and spilled half a jar of chilis in this, sorry(Or not? Idk). I tried to balance it out w some fluff. (Also lol, of course Jk’s first smut piece on this blog would end up being about his possessive streak(let’s all act surprised, just for fun))

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jungkook had been laughing to himself for the better part of ten minutes over the Dispatch article that one of the other members had sent, discussing your supposed romance with his bandmate.

He’d give them credit, you had been on a date that day, they’d gotten that much right, but it’d been with him, and you’d just happened to bump into Jin at the restaurant. But, due to the angle of the pictures that they’d snapped through the window, Jungkook hadn’t been visible, leaving those who were curious or bored enough to speculate what was going on with you and the eldest member of his group.

“As if you would date Jin!” He chuckled.

“I mean, it’s not that crazy, he is pretty handsome.” You finally said, trying to hide the smirk that was pulling at the corner of your mouth.

You knew how easy it was to set off Jungkook’s jealous nature, you’d done it enough times, both purposefully and accidentally, to have it down to a system, one that sometimes resulted in you not being able to walk properly the next day, but sometimes that was what you wanted, it was too fun to tease him to resist.

His expression dropped at your words, staring at you blankly for a moment before turning on his heel and walking out the room.

“Kook, it was just a joke!” You called, trying to catch up with him. “Kook, I was kidding!”

As you entered the bedroom, you stopped short, glancing around in confusion as you found it empty.

“Koo- Agh!” You let out a small shriek of surprise as Jungkook slipped out from behind the door, catching you around the waist and spinning you around til your back made contact with the wall, one of his hands coming up to protect your head from hitting as he eyed you darkly, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You think you’re funny?” He growled, pressing himself against your front. “You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”

He leaned in, letting his lips just graze yours before trailing to the side, coming to rest against the shell of your ear.

“Maybe I should remind you who it is that you belong to?” He whispered, the cool metal of his lip rings a stark contrast to his hot breath, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Koo.” You tried to say, but he moved back to claim your lips with his own, rough hands groping every inch that he could reach as his tongue explored into your mouth, swallowing your whimpers as you clung to him.

Snaking a hand down the front of your pants, he chuckled against your lips as he felt the growing damp patch on your panties.

“Does Jin make you this wet?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched you squirm under his touch.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Who does then, hmm?” He questioned, hooded eyes never leaving yours.

“You, only you, Koo.” You said shakily.

“Very good.” He gripped your waist again, pushing you back on the bed before ridding you of your bottoms and exposing your cunt to the cool air of the room.

“Fuck, look at you.” He breathed, slipping a single finger into your wet heat, making you let out a soft whine.

“Could Jin make you feel this good?” He asked, adding another finger as he began to set a steady pace.

You shook your head, earning a smack to your thigh from his free hand.

“Words Baby, wanna hear you.” He huffed. “Who makes you feel good?”

“Agh! Jungkook!” You moaned as he curled his fingers, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“That’s right, Love.” He panted, sounding almost as gone as you were, pounding his fingers into you at a rapid pace, the wet sounds so lewd it made your cheeks burn.

“Koo, please.” You gasped, feeling your high threatening to overtake you.

“Let go, Love, it’s okay. Give it to me.” He said, speeding up his movements to push you over the edge.

You let out a weak cry of his name as your high crashed over you, shaking in his hold as he continued to work you through it.

His movements gradually slowed to a stop as you came down, chest heaving and twitching slightly from sensitivity. He moved to rest next to you on the bed, using his clean hand to caress your face tenderly.

“Are you alright, Love? Was that too much?” He asked gently, looking at you now with nothing but love and concern.

You shook your head. “No, that was- that was good.” You panted.

He chuckled, stroking your arm softly as you caught your breath. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“Can you hold me?”

He found it both endearing and heartbreaking at the same time that you still asked so shyly after all this time, as if his answer was uncertain, as if he would ever deny you anything.

“Of course.” He carefully wrapped his arms around you, letting your head rest against his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. For several minutes, neither of you spoke, not feeling the need to fill the space with pointless words.

When he finally did speak, Jungkook’s voice was soft, not wanting to shatter the tranquility of the moment.

“I’m sorry if I got carried away.” He said.

“You didn’t...” You whispered. “I’m sorry I teased you.”

“No, you’re not.” He snorted, making you both burst into quiet laughter. “We both know how much you like winding me up.”

“Like you don’t do it too.” You countered, shifting to look up at him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your head.

“Just so long as you know that I am just teasing.” You said, turning serious, running your hand through his hair. “You know you’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

“I know.” He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I love you so much.” He whispered.

“I love you too.” You leaned up, brushing your lips against his in the faintest of kisses. “My sweet boy.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup

[tf2occontest]

“Okay team, listen up:

You’re all going to be fighting each other to the death, and whoever wins gets to start their new lifelong career under contract with Team Fortress Industries!

So. Here are the rules.” - P

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

RULES FOR SUBMISSION:

Your character must be original and be directly related to TF2. 

This can be any kind of OC: Class OCs, tenth class OCs, Machine/robot OCs, Team Fortress Classic OCs, OCs who work outside of TFI (such as assistants to Merasmus or Saxton Hale), YLW/GRN OCs, Teufort citizen/civilian OCs, anything—as long as they are directly related to TF2 and are yours !!!! If you have concerns about this, please dm or send an ask to this account BEFORE submitting your character !!!!

2. !!!! ONE OC PER PERSON !!!!

If you are submitting an original tenth class OC, you are allowed to submit a RED and BLU variant in one bundle. This is the ONLY bundling that is allowed.

Any posts from this blog involving your OC will follow this system of tags: #TF2OcContest2024, #[your tumblr username], #the [class name], & #[character name] (if applicable)

3. You are still allowed to submit an OC even if you’ve never posted them anywhere before. Make an oc for the contest if you want!

An image representing your character and a description of your character are REQUIRED upon submission. Details on what is permitted for each of these are included in the submission form below.

4. Propaganda is allowed and ENCOURAGED, even for others’ OCs!

If you make propaganda including other OCs, you are required to have the creator’s explicit permission before posting. Joking, lighthearted ‘smear campaign’ type propaganda is fine, but again—both parties must consent to this and no real harm should come from it. 

Please post any propaganda of your OC under the #TF2OcContest2024 tag.

5. You are not required to make new art. If you participated in the previous OC Tourney hosted by @/tf2shipswag, you are allowed to reuse any old art you made for that, including your half of the VS cards! 

6. AI GENERATED IMAGES FOR SUBMISSIONS AND PROPAGANDA ARE STRICTLY PROHIBITED. YOU WILL BE BANNED.

“You will be considered a traitor to the Mann vs Machine cause and shot on sight. There are plenty of other ways to make images that don’t require drawing!” - P

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

RULES FOR PARTICIPATION:

There will be NO TEAM-UPS for organization’s sake. Any ties will be broken with a coin-flip and a quick shot to the head by Miss Pauling—so aim to win.

“Sooo… Don’t try any funny business! We’ve only got enough room in the budget for one person.” - P

2. You will not be able to make requests for match-ups. Contestants will be paired up randomly each round.

3. Please be respectful about others' OCs. Verified claims of harassment will result in disqualification and/or being blocked from the contest account.

“You’ll also be shot for this, just so we’re clear. Can’t leave any loose ends!” - P

4. You are allowed to submit propaganda directly to this blog if you do not want to post it on your own account!

5. Deadlines will be strict.  Keep an eye on when dates for things are posted.*

“I’m looking to hire someone punctual and professional, please!” - P

*The contest hosts reserve the right to make changes to deadlines, rules, and so forth but it is unlikely to happen. If it does an official statement will be made!

6. THE MOST IMPORTANT RULE: PLEASE have fun with this.  Everybody needs to be a good sport and remember this in no way reflects how people view your work, ideas and character.  In our hearts, you’re all winners.  

!!!! What do you get for winning? !!!!

You’ll get fanart of your winning character! Art will be by @/sicc-nasti, @/mickmundane, and @/chattycattycal on tumblr PLEASE keep in mind these are NOT requests, just gift fanart!

“You get to live! And bragging rights, of course. Oh—and the job contract. I think someone could also make a celebratory cake? Don’t hold me to that last part, though.” - P

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK!

LINK TO APPLICATION FORM FORM HERE

DEADLINES:

November 30th - SUBMISSIONS FOR OCS CLOSE

Other Notable Tags:

#Announcement - For dates, updates, anything important.

#Asks - Answering your asks

#TF2cContest2024 - Our main tag! #Mod Sicc and #Mod Mick - Moderator tags ^_^

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about an Alternate Universe in which everyone knows they're living inside a videogame. However, Vertin is the only one aware of the entity inhabiting her own mind, the real conductor - the "Player".

this is one of my favorite AUs to slap on whatever media I'm into so here we are <3 not sure if anyone's done this already, but PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE link me if you've seen any other ppl write for this AU! this one and any actor AUs are my absolute fave

this is just a word vomit introduction for fun, to get the basic ideas out of my head, so I can start writing for characters individually!

Okay, okay! First of all, some context for the AU before I go deranged overexplaining my HCs!

Aside from the "Storm", there is something else that haunts the people of this world: the fact that their lives are nothing but a simulacrum, part of a game.

The requirements to obtain this "self-awareness" is unknown. Those within the Foundation believe it's related to their respective "roles", that only the main and relevant characters are given the chance to fully open their eyes to the truth. Those within Manus Vindictae claim that one must be strong enough to break through the fog of complacency and their assigned scripts, to have their full potential unleashed and obtain true liberation. Either way, similar to the "Storm", this is a well-kept secret for a very good reason - everyone wants to have the upperhand.

There is one outlier to this whole system. Vertin is not only aware of the truth of this world, but also of her duty as the eyes and hands of the "Player". She must experience it all for their sake. Or rather, whatever she experiences will be the story that the Player will see.

This applies to her suitcase, the place where the Player's influence increases tenfold, bending everything and everyone to their will through her own body and voice. The longer one stays within her suitcase - or within her general vicinity - the easier it is for them to become self-aware.

How does one become "self-aware" and what does it entail?

The requirements and the catalyst for a character to become self-aware are still a mystery. But that's mostly because I specifically wanted to keep them as vague as possible, to allow some flexibility for NPCs and other characters outside of Vertin's suitcase.

The whole process of gaining sentience or self-awareness is mostly described as waking up from a nightmare, or a very, very realistic dream. It's like a switch, something that happens in a second without any warnings whatsoever.

I like to think that most of the people who wake up are easy to spot, because it's a jarring experience and panicking is the most normal reaction - but that they're often taken care of by the Foundation or recruited by Manus Vindictae.

The levels of awareness also depend heavily on each individual - some only know that nothing is truly real, that everything they've done up until that point was just a carefully scripted lie, the most basic realization. Others can understand the rules that govern this game and use them to their advantage, either through observation and study or just inherently.

Overall, the experience of being sentient varies as well, with some describing a disconnect from their body, while others feel exactly the opposite. Again, keeping it pretty vague so that people can fill in with their own ideas!

I'll talk about Vertin's case in detail when we get to her specific bullet point, but the same way the Player is able to experience the "story" through her eyes, she's able to see the same things they do - this includes the UI, the menus and everything you can interact with in-game.

Vertin as a character and a vessel for the Player.

The most common thing I've seen in self-aware AUs in my years of fandom is to turn the player stand-in (the main character that serves for the player to experience the story through and/or project onto, depending on the genre of the game) into an obstacle, one that keeps the characters from truly interacting with the Player, capital P.

The second most common thing I've seen is to simply ignore the existence of this player stand-in and replace it with the Player themself, either through isekai methods or thanks to the customization the game allows, etc etc.

When it comes to Vertin in this AU, I know I want her to retain her role as the center of everything, instead of being sidelined by the Player. She's THE Timekeeper, after all.

There's still some details I'm trying to iron out, like whether she's always been self-aware or if she became self-aware at some point during her childhood at the St. Pavlov Foundation. But I like to think that her relationship to the Player is a parallel to her immunity to the "Storm" - neither of these two things are inherently good nor bad. Surviving the "Storm" is helpful, sure, but it's painful for her. Having an entity like the "Player" haunting her is scary, sure, but it can be an advantage. It's a matter of how she utilizes the assets she was given, since her adaptability and determination are big aspects of her character. Vertin makes up for her mediocre arcane skills with unconventional plans and strategies.

But this isn't to say that Vertin isn't affected by the presence of the Player. Ironically, she's the one person whose freedom is limited. During battles, her skills and Tuning are available to you, they can also prove to be vital to win a fight, but in the end you're still the one calling the shots and choosing when her friends get to attack. You're the one choosing the layout of the Wilderness. You're the one picking which one of her friends deserves to become stronger.

In the last bullet point I mentioned that some characters can understand the rules of the game - Vertin is the most extreme case, as she can see the same UI as you do. She learns the way you like to fight your battles, your own strategies, she can see this and more.

Overall it's a very complex dynamic. It's not as easy as saying that she likes or dislikes you, that she considers you a friend or foe. You're part of her, you influence each other in many aspects and are stuck together for reasons she can't even fathom. While you may be able to read her thoughts most of the time, she becomes invisible once you enter the suitcase - the main menu of the game. Sure, the character you selected to greet you every day is actually talking to her, not you, but she's out of your view and therefore, out of our range. That's when Vertin wonders the sort of person that you are, if you care about her friends as much as she does. Are you playing just to be entertained? Are you invested in these events? Will you be there for her until the end of her story?

Another detail I like to think about is that Vertin is the only one who knows your name. Because at the very beginning, you were asked to input a name and she was there.

[screenshot was taken from this video, since it's the first one I could find that showed this specific part of the game lol]

Well, "your name" not quite right - she knows that whatever you wrote there is the name linked to your account, at least. And that's the name she knows you as.

Those who take residence in Vertin's suitcase or spend prolonged amounts of time with her, growing closer to her and all, end up becoming self-aware. This is a direct side-effect of your presence.

I like to think that characters who reach the 100% Bond can begin to sense the Player, to see the world in a similar way as Vertin does. Maybe even feel their presence EXACTLY like Vertin does whenever there's a battle. There is someone else on the other side of this screen, the fourth wall, who watches over them.

To some, it's hard to differentiate Vertin from the Player, as they just go hand in hand - but Sonetto, for example, has the easiest time telling the two apart.

On the subject of freedom and acting out of script.

The Foundation, Manus Vindictae, Laplace... It doesn't matter if they're self-aware and acting outside of what their script dictates, because they're missing one key ingredient: you. No one else but Vertin and her group knows about your existence, after all.

They don't know that the only story that matters is the one that Vertin is part of. The one that the Player gets to see and read and experience. And because the game gives you a very limited view into the lives of these characters, you don't know what neither Arcana nor Constantine do behind the scenes. You and Vertin don't see that, therefore, it never truly mattered.

Those most likely to start "acting out" are the troublemakers within Vertin's suitcase. Characters who are too curious for their own good, who are more susceptible to supernatural entities, who are just too impulsive - they would start to test the limits and see how far they can go, how much they can interact with the Player. Can the game be broken should they end up shattering the fourth wall? Is there a way for the Player to communicate with them? What will happen to Vertin?

I like to think that Vertin probably supports this, as she's rather curious herself, prone to questioning everything. She would also like to learn more about the Player, to truly tear into the game and see the full extent of your influence and her freedom.

Sometimes, Regulus and X will change their usual voicelines, just enough to be noticeable if one pays enough attention. Characters like Sotheby or Leilani might slip up and address the Player, rather than Vertin. Lilya, Pavia, Bkornblume have new animations and different expressions, ones you've never seen before - they stare ahead, as if searching for something, and then smirk or hum to themselves, deep in thought, like they realized something you're not privy of.

Sometimes, if you leave them as your selected assistant on the main menu, you can catch them muttering to themselves - idle quotes you never heard enough, about the outside world. Diggers does this the most, it's almost embarassing how easy it is to catch him talking nonsense, followed by Sonetto. If you leave Medicine Pocket alone for too long, you might come back to a screen covered in weird scratch marks.

On the subject of these characters being curious about the outside world and all, I think that a good chunk of them are generally content with the way things are?

We have to remember that in-universe, they're arcanists displaced from their respective eras. Their best chance at surviving is siding with Vertin, and if Vertin is content with the way things are, then there's no point in trying to disrupt what they have right now. They're curious enough to prod, but only as far as Vertin allows it.

And I think that's it for the word vomit!

There are some details I didn't know where to fit in, like the possibility of the fourth wall slowly dissipating the more time the Player invests in the game, leading to some characters being able to directly hear you if you talk while playing and whatnot. Or what would happen should someone outside of Vertin's suitcase figure out the existence of the Player, let alone interact with you in some way.

Or the concept of death being meaningless, unless it was pre-established by the game itself.

In Borderlands, there's this game mechanic where you can just be revived over and over and pay a percentage of your money as a fee, even though the canon that's established is that you play through the whole story without dying a SINGLE time - because the revival mechanics aren't canon. There's the divide between story and gameplay. That's pretty much the standard. But what about the deaths in battles in R1999? The amount of times I died to 1.3's UTTU's Flash Gathering is insane. How do self-aware characters feel about this, now that they know that they're bound to die over and over and be brought back because you have to do your Pneuma Analysis or reach the final stage of Limbo?

But that's pretty much it for now, I think I got most thoughts out of my system! Thank you for reading!

[generalluxun]

Miraculous Reverse

Lore/fix/expansion/headcanon

Tackling that one out-of-place name drop and turning it from something boring and repetitive(in an otherwise really fun plotline!) into something more fitting. Like or hate her, having Chloé just be Marinette's bully in the reverse is just dull. It also goes against the overall theme of similar-but-different.

So, in trying to keep canon in mind, but twisting it up, I present to you:

Emonette's bully is actually reverse!Zoé- hear me out.

Reverse!Andre is an iron fisted tyrant. Reverse!Audrey is a harmless vapid party girl/trophy wife. Andre still very much abuses his power and Audrey is still very much a forgetful/neglectful mother.

Zoé is still the product of infidelity. It's not so much an estranged wife stepping out as a naive/foolish girl seduced by Mr. Lee. When André finds out too late, he is livid. Audrey goes 'to the country' until her 'health improves' and baby Zoé is tossed into the public welfare system.

Meanwhile back at home André is utterly embarrassed by the whole scandal. Chloé, already not something either parent was really interested in, is kept confined to the hotel and not spoken of. She becomes something glimpsed by guests out of the corner of the eye; there and gone. A rumor/urban legend starts about 'The ghost of LeGrand Paris.'

Back to Zoé- due to a social worker being careless with paperwork, and Zoé being an advanced reader for her age, she learns early on about her 'real' family. She is instantly angry as only a child can be. She should be rich! She should have power! She should have it all!

For the next several years she is a terror for foster families, orphanages, and homes for problem children. It gets to the point where she is returned to the Bourgeois(at least until Andre can fight the legal system again). Once she's there though, André doesn't know how to handle her. He's surrounded himself with sycophants for a decade. Someone who stands up to him with his own level of belligerence is alarming. He resorts to ignoring her/avoiding her and letting her do whatever provided it doesn't cause him more problems.

When Zoé meets Chloé(around 11-12 yrs of age or so), she sees someone with the life she was denied... So she takes it. She takes Chloé's name and enrolls herself in school. She claims to be the 'Ghost of Le Grand Paris', who was sickly growing up but is healthy now! She's out, proud, and taking everything she wants. This includes dominating the school, ruling as Queen, and taking out her personal anger on that easy-victim emonette.

I want to stress this is a *starting* point. This is a setup. This is where the narrative begins. Zoé is still in part wearing a mask, one she forged herself im childhood based on what she thought *should* be.

Chloé isn't some perfect angel. She's a recluse, unsocialized, isolated. (Think Mary Lennox from the Secret Garden) and libel to be a touch cross if her very tiny world is upset.

This whole thing is meant to blossom out, be discovered, and provide for some great narrative hooks.

Instead of just boring 'Chloé bad.'

[chastiefoul]

Hello!! I just done reading your "this thing is heavy, can you hold it for me" work.

Can you do another one byt with other characters? Like: Beidou, Kaeya, and Ayato??

THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE!!!

genshin characters react to "this thing is heavy, can you hold it for me?" but you held their hand instead pt. 2!!

part 1

a/n: i'm sorry this took months!!!

characters: ayato, beidou, kaeya, gorou, alhaitham, and tighnari

Ayato

“oh? you can just ask one of my retainer dear, i’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” he shot you down quickly with that one and you weren’t sure how to bounce back. perhaps another time then. “o-on a second thought i can just carry it myself.” you couldn’t help but feel disappointed for a second until a familiar gloved hand belonged to your lover engulfed your hand as ayato continued to walk. you smiled happily as you thought that either way you had ended up where you wanted to be even when the male beside you didn’t realize what you were doing.

until you saw him looking at the other way, quietly laughing to himself.

he knew. of course he knew!

Beidou

“not a problem, give it here!” she said as she gave her full attention to you that you almost feel bad when you went put your empty hand on hers. though that did not last long at all when you witness her wide grin already putting the pieces in her mind, as she laughed. “quite the treasure you have here, you sure wanna trust me on holding it?” she says cheerily, going along with you in the best possible way. “yes!” you claimed happily, “well then you can count on me,” she laughs, intertwining her hand with yours, leading you to her ship for yet another fun ride.

Kaeya

“interesting, what could possibly be so heavy yet so small that you have a problem carrying it around?” he smiles as he inspects, grabbing your fist and moving it around up and down. considering how sharp he is, you already knew this was gonna be a total bust the moment you started it, he probably was just pretending for the fun of it. you pouted, retracting your hand to your side.

“it wouldn’t hurt to play along once you know, mr knight?” you said in a joking manner. he only chuckled and raised an eyebrow, “giving up so easily?”  you, having nothing to retort against that only rolled your eyes. then he says again, “it’s not that i didn’t like it, i just prefer a more straight-forward tactic?” he says, grabbing your hand and brought it close to his lips as he planted a kiss there. “that’s rich coming from a man who often speaks in riddles.” you laughed, the gesture cheered you nonetheless.

Gorou

“what is it?” he says as he peers closely, already having a hand out. “come here, bring your palm closer,” you say, he obliged without any hesitation. so curious and so trusting. hook, line, and sinker. easily like that, you have captured his hand completely. you turned while giving his hand a good squeeze, wanting to see his expression, but he just looked like his entire system just shut down, until suddenly a color of pink painted his cheeks in more than a nice way. “to be using underhanded tactic like that...” he trailed off, flustered. “you don’t like it?” you asked, while smiling mischievously. a second look on his wagging tail was all it took to know the answer.

 “you already know i do...”

Alhaitham

he sighed deeply, knowing what’s gonna come if he didn’t play along to your random antics. he held out his hand, and you intertwined your hand with his. he expected a prank or some sort, but he certainly didn’t expect this. the simple act somehow made the man’s heart fluttered. he went quiet, not really giving an obvious reaction but you could tell by his soft smile he liked it. 

“you look pleased,” you teased. “i am,” he said bluntly, giving your hand a squeeze.

Tighnari

he immediately went on and on lecturing you to not overpack and only bring stuff you’re capable of holding, before ending it with a sigh. “give it here,” he said as you held his hand instead. the bow-wielder was stunned for a moment before putting it all together. he smiled, shooking his head in wonderment. “and you just let me went on and on like that? tell me was this worth it?” he raised an eyebrow. “mhm. i quite like your lectures.” you just giggled looking at the defeated expression on his face.

“yeah? then tell me why did you almost eat a poisonous mushroom mere minutes ago, did i not tell you all about it yesterday?” he crossed his arms.

“...for research purposes?”

“i keep telling you that’s not how it works-���

[vintageshanny]

For the First Time

Content: 18+ This is a one-shot about Elvis losing his virginity. I do not claim to be an expert on the details of this. I have heard different rumors, and this is, to me, one possibility of how things might have happened. There is smut in this, but I’m more focused on how he might have been feeling at this time. As always, my tender little heart bleeds with love for him and everything he went through in his life. I would very much appreciate any feedback. ❤️

Thank you @lookingforrainbows for talking me through ideas on this and letting me know it didn’t sound ridiculous. You are a beautiful soul. ❤️ 😘

Fall 1954

Elvis ran his fingers over the outline of the condom package that Scotty had slipped into his pocket at the beginning of the tour. “I know ya got a girl, EP, but put it in your wallet man, just in case. Ya don’t wanna come back with more people than ya left with,” he’d added with a wink. Somehow rubbing his fingers over the rough edges calmed Elvis’ ragged nerves a little bit.

His mind drifted to Dixie and the promises they’d made to each other. To wait. To wait until they were married to consummate their relationship. Sure, they were affectionate with each other, always hugging and kissing, but whenever Elvis tried to sneak his hand up under her skirt or unbutton a couple buttons on her dress, she’d firmly push him away and say, “That’s for our wedding night, silly.” Sometimes when they were kissing, she’d let him grind against her through their clothes, and he’d get so worked up that he needed to make an excuse to go to the bathroom so he could relieve the amount of passion coursing through his entire body.

The promise to wait had seemed so much easier six months ago when they talked about it. Now, it was damn near impossible. He saw the way these girls looked at him after the shows. He was dying to know what it felt like to explore every part of a woman. He thought maybe if he just got this out of his system, the waiting with Dixie wouldn’t be so hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was a man after all, and she didn’t need to know about this. He could experience this on the road and be good for her at home. He just needed to find a way to make sure everyone was happy and taken care of, like he’d always tried to do.

Dropping the condom onto the rumpled bedspread, he rose from the edge of the bed and started pacing the hotel room, the voices floating up from the courtyard below making his heart thud in his chest.

“Maria! You came!” Scotty’s reedy voice rang out.

“That’s the idea,” Bill added, only slightly under his breath.

“You should head right up! Elvis should be waitin’ for ya. He’s been waitin’ a looong time.”

Elvis cringed at Scotty’s words as he looked out the window and saw the two of them clink beer bottles and laugh.

Maria paused and turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What’s that supposed ta mean?”

Elvis held his breath, willing Scotty not to divulge too much. He’d never come right out and told the guys he was a virgin, but he saw the way they nudged each other and smirked whenever he was talking to a girl after the show. He slowly exhaled as Scotty responded.

“Aw nothin’, honey, I just hope you two have fun on your date.”

Maria rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, carefully ascending them in her white kitten heels. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her pale yellow sundress, and tried to brace herself for what was on the other side of that door. She had been with a handful of other men, but this was a bona fide star. He probably invited a different girl up every night. Maybe that’s what the other guys had been joking about. She hoped she would live up to his expectations, especially after her bold proclamation earlier. The conversation replayed in her head as she lifted her hand to knock on the door.

“Hey baby, I could see ya dancin’ from up on that stage. Looks like ya really enjoyed the show.”

“I sure did. Maybe I can return the favor with a show of my own.” A sense of satisfaction had consumed her when he unexpectedly blushed at her advances.

Maria’s mind snapped back to the present as Elvis flung open the door. He was wearing black dress pants with a pink jacket open to the naval. As he rested one hand slightly below his hip, she took note of his long slender fingers, nails chewed down to the nub, and the fuzzy little trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Up close, and in the fluorescent lighting of the hotel, she could see he had a pimple on his chin and another close to his collarbone. The entire scene was absolutely intoxicating.

“Maria, I was startin’ ta think ya were gonna stand me up, baby.” Elvis flashed a crooked little grin and stepped aside to let her in the room. He quickly kicked a stray sock under the bed where he’d hidden the rest of his dirty clothes. After sniffing each pair of socks, he had decided it was best to just stay barefoot after his shower. His toes scrunched up at the feel of the rough carpet under his feet.

“No, of course not,” Maria giggled nervously. “I suppose I just took too long tryin’ ta look nice for ya.”

“Well ya sure do look nice, honey,” Elvis whispered lowly as he closed the door and grabbed her by the waist, feeling the soft flesh of her hips. He leaned in and smushed his lips into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth when she let out a little gasp.

“Wow, you don’t waste no time gettin’ to the action, hmm?” she laughed a little bit when he finally pulled back for some air, his eyes closed. His hands had moved up a little bit, his thumb gently rubbing at the side of her breast.

“I-I-I thought that’s what ya wanted, baby,” Elvis stammered out, trying to read her expression. “If you’d rather just sit and talk, that’s okay.” He led her over toward the bed, and they both spotted the condom at the same moment. Elvis’ face turned bright red as he snatched it up. “Oh, I-I-I’m sorry baby, I d-d-didn’t mean ta leave that there like that. We really ain’t gotta do nothin’, I-I-I mean-”

Maria just laughed and pushed him gently backward until he was sitting on the bed. “It’s okay, Elvis.” She unbuttoned his jacket the rest of the way and slipped it off his shoulders. “I always make good on my promises.”

Elvis stared in awe as she reached behind herself and unzipped the yellow dress, letting it fall to the ground, revealing a silky pink bra and panties. Elvis gulped nervously as he stared at her body. The material was so thin and sheer, he could see the outline of her nipples and the little mound of hair down below. He stifled a groan as he could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the briefs that he now wished he’d forgone.

“You’re really gonna make me put on a show for ya, huh?” Maria teased as Elvis just sat there studying her. “I thought ya might join in.” She reached back and unclasped her bra, her perky breasts now on full display for him.

“I-I-I’m sorry honey, ya jus’ got me a little speechless here. I’ll join in,” Elvis murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He tentatively leaned in and took one of her nipples in his mouth, caressing it with his warm tongue.

“Mmm, that’s more like it,” she whispered. “You can touch me anywhere, Elvis.” As she grabbed his hand to guide it toward her panties, she realized he was literally shaking with nerves. “Elvis? Are ya okay?” As she looked at him with concern, the meaning of Scotty’s “He’s been waitin’ a long time” suddenly hit her. “Are you, I mean, is this your, um, first time?” she asked softly.

“Wh-wh-what?” Elvis exclaimed, jerking his trembling hand away. “N-n-no baby, I-I-I’ve been with plenty of girls. I-I-I jus’, um, I mean, n-n-none as beautiful as you, that’s all,” he stammered out, trying to distract her with a compliment.

Maria wanted to tell him it was okay, that she was flattered, that he didn’t need to be nervous, but she decided it was best to just drop it and help him relax. She smiled and nodded. “You’re sweet, Elvis. I wanna see if ya taste sweet too.” She dropped down to her knees and unbuttoned his pants.

“Wh-wh-what are ya doin’ honey? Ya ain’t gotta do all that.” Elvis heard the words come out of his mouth, but somehow his body’s desire betrayed him by lifting slightly off the bed so Maria could pull off his pants. His heart raced anxiously as she reached inside of his briefs. He knew from being in the locker rooms back in school that not everyone had a sheath of foreskin covering their dick, and he hoped she wouldn’t mock him the way some of his classmates had.

Maria could feel her panties getting wetter by the second as she wrapped her hand around something thick and warm inside Elvis’ briefs. “We should just get these outta the way,” she murmured, pulling them down his legs and watching as he sprang free from the confinement. Her eyes widened with surprise when she realized he was not…well, not like the other guys she’d been with. There was something extra wrapped around him. She liked the way it felt as she pumped it with her hand.

Elvis squinched his eyes shut, too afraid he’d see a look of disgust before she jumped up and ran off. Instead, he felt something warm and wet wrap around his hard dick. He opened his eyes to see Maria taking him deep in her mouth, and the moan he let out made him kick himself for not closing the window tight. The whole hotel must know what’s going on in here. Her tongue traced its way around his shaft before taking special care of his sensitive tip. Elvis thought he might explode right on the spot as she sucked on him.

“You do taste good y’know,” Maria said with a little wink as she pulled off him and stood up again. She slid her dampened panties down and stepped out of them, so they were both totally naked. “Do you wanna check if I’m ready for ya?” Elvis nodded and this time let her guide his hand between her legs.

“Baby, it’s so wet down there,” he murmured as Maria started moaning. He found her entrance and slipped a finger inside of her, moving it in a way that felt natural. She felt so soft and silky, he thought he could just play with her pussy for hours. But Maria wanted more than a finger.

“You should slide right in then,” she whispered as she moved his hand and laid down on the bed next to him. He grabbed the condom again and opened it, rolling it onto himself, hoping Maria couldn’t tell he’d never done this before. Maria smiled at the awkward way he put on the condom, and noticed that she could feel him trembling again. “I want it so bad, Elvis,” she reassured him, pulling him on top of her.

“Me too, baby, me too.” Elvis reached down and guided his dick toward her slick opening. Once he’d gently pushed in a couple inches, he thrusted in the rest of the way, her wet pussy consuming his entire length. “Oh, goddamn,” he moaned out, unprepared for the feeling of something so tight and wet wrapped around him, clenching at him. He tried to take it slow, tried to make it last, but the pleasure was overpowering. He thrust a few times before his orgasm completely took over, leaving him panting on top of Maria, his sweaty hair dripping down onto her forehead.

“Oh wow, baby, you are amazing.” Elvis slowly pulled out and rolled to his side. He carefully peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can by the bed. “I-I-I’m sorry, I usually l-l-last longer, I jus’, uh, got so excited,” he tried to explain, his face turning red from the lies and the exertion.

Maria just smiled and patted his chest. “That’s okay, I thought your excitement was very sweet.” She hesitated, then added, “Do ya think you could, um, help me get there though? Your fingers felt magical inside me,” she admitted with a blush.

“Really?” Elvis perked up at the compliment. “I mean, of course baby.” He reached over between her legs and started playing with her pussy again, taking mental note of what seemed to work the best. She moaned deeply when he put a finger inside her, but he noticed that her toes curled up and she could barely even function when he rubbed at her little button. I wonder what both at once would do. He kneeled next to her and put two fingers from one hand inside of her while his thumb on the other hand worked that little nub.

“Oh, God!” she cried out in ecstasy, her legs shaking, her arousal leaking out onto his fingers. “Oh Elvis, I c-c-can’t take it,” she moaned, begging him to stop. Elvis removed his fingers and smiled, very pleased with his ability as he leaned down to kiss her soft lips.

“Was that magical enough?” he whispered in her ear.

“Pure magic.” Maria pulled him in for another passionate kiss.

“C-c-can I ask ya somethin’, honey?” Elvis gently stroked Maria’s arm with his fingertips. “After talkin’ to ya, ya seem like such a nice sweet girl. Wh-wh-why did ya do this with me?”

Maria tried to sort out the thoughts in her head, wondering how much she should share. “You seem like a nice sweet guy. Why did you do it?” she finally asked.

“W-w-well, that’s different, I mean, I…I wanted ta feel good I guess,” Elvis stumbled over his explanation, unable to really articulate what he was feeling at that exact moment.

“So did I,” Maria responded. “Elvis, I’ve been through some really bad experiences. I suppose at heart I’m just lonely and this is a way to feel close to someone, to feel connected and cared for, even if just for a little while. Ya know what I mean?”

Elvis swallowed a lump in his throat. It was like she had put his exact thoughts into words. “I know exactly what ya mean, honey. Does it work? Ta make ya feel close ta someone, I mean?”

Maria let out a little sigh. “Sometimes. Sometimes not so much. But we all just try the best we can, I suppose.”

Elvis nodded as Maria stood up to get dressed. “I should get home. My mama will worry and wonder where I’ve been.”

“What will you tell her?” Elvis asked as he pulled his clothes back on.

“That I was having a deep conversation with a friend,” Maria laughed. “Y’know, not really a lie, but not the whole truth. Not everyone needs ta know everything.”

“Will I, uh, will I see ya again at another show?”

Maria smiled and hugged him tight. “Maybe. But maybe we were just the connection the other needed in this moment.”

Maria paused at the door and looked back. “Elvis?”

“Yeah, honey?” Elvis’ mind was a muddle of confused emotions right now.

“You are very sweet and very special. Never let anyone make ya feel like that ain’t enough.” That crooked little smile would be burned into her mind forever.

Twenty minutes later, Elvis descended the steps to the courtyard, wondering what the guys were up to. Scotty and Bill were playing cards when they saw him approaching and started a round of applause. “There he is!” Scotty yelled out. “I told ya that condom would come in handy.”

“Aw quit it,” Elvis snapped, but he couldn’t deny feeling a tiny surge of pride at being considered “one of the guys” for the first time in his life. He couldn’t see it now, but over the years ahead, he’d sacrifice so much for the desire to fit in, to connect with people, to wish they could understand him. What he’d give for just one person to really understand what he was going through. To understand his heart.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[toffeecoco1]

A concept:

SQH is forced to reveal the system and/or his status as a transmigrator, due to a truth serum or whatever other convenient plot device. I HIGHLY doubt MBJ would just pass this knowledge on to LBH, especially if LBH didn’t ask—and how on earth would he think to ask??

So instead, I think at least part of it happens with LBH around. He watches SQH have a meltdown over being revealed, spewing nonsense about writing a book and then waking up inside it. He doesn’t even need to catch the entire mess, only fragments of it—enough to understand that it’s possible to jump from one world to the next, to end up in a world you already know.

And he starts wondering. Thinking about someone else he knows who has always known too much and brushed it off by claiming he read it in some book or another that Binghe can’t confirm exists. And though SQH appears to have found himself in this world as a child, who’s to say that’s the only possibility? His shizun’s personality changed suddenly and drastically, and he has no memories of his shizun having such startlingly extensive knowledge before that event.

What happens then depends on when this takes place: if it’s post-canon, he probably corners SQH to ask, and is smug about threatening him, then cradles the knowledge he receives close to his chest. Whether he brings this to his shizun is hard to tell, but he’d definitely carry himself with a light, happy air. Knowing that his shizun has always been kind to him and always loved him is simply euphoric. SQQ might notice him acting different and ask him about it, which might lead to a conversation—where SQQ is terrified at first, but relieved and simply relaxed by the end. He truly doesn’t mind being Shen Qingqiu and living what is technically a lie, but it’s… lovely to let his guard down a little around his husband, even if by this point “Shen Qingqiu” is no longer a mask he has to hide behind.

(Being post-canon is also fun because binghe can think back to the mausoleum and go “wow. maybe this should have been obvious.”)

Alternatively, I LOVE the idea that this happens earlier, during the 5 years where SQQ is dead. Rather than excitement and giddiness at solving a puzzle and figuring out more about his beloved, Binghe feels only grief and a slow horror as the pieces fall into place.

Maybe he still doesn’t know why his shizun pushed him into the abyss, but if none of the abuse he suffered was actually at his hands, if shizun truly was only ever kind to him… at the least he can begin to understand why his shizun might have sacrificed himself for him.

When he corners SQH this time, it’s with real anger, laced with fear and regret. SQH’s panicked answers give him enough information to piece together that SQQ likely didn’t have a choice in pushing him into the abyss.

So he wallows. His beloved never once tried to hurt him, was always kind to him and protected him. Likely knew he would escape the abyss alive. And he repaid that with threats and coercion, and drove his shizun to his death.

Years later, when he is in a dream and suddenly realises that his shizun is real, he doesn’t slowly smirk and begin to plot. He instead falls to his knees, gripping tightly to his shizun’s clothing and sobbing—much to SQQ’s confusion. But, still slightly numb with the whiplash of being kissed clumsily without warning and then suddenly cried on by a man he’s convinced is going to kill him, all SQQ can do is gently pat his disciple’s head.

[therealcocoshady]

Kinktober - Day 5 - Knifeplay

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : Hey guys ! Happy Halloween to those of you who celebrate 👀. Here is what I wrote for the Knifeplay prompt ! It was inspired by that one Ask I got a while ago. I hope you enjoy it 😏

CW : DID - Slim Shady alter - Knifeplay - Jealousy

Marshall stared at the lake, its surface calm under the late afternoon sun, an ironic contrast to the storm twisting inside his chest. This weekend was supposed to be a step forward, a chance to show you that he could be the partner you deserved, that he could put you first for once. He knew being his girlfriend wasn’t easy, what with all the walls and boundaries he had built up over the years, and he was more than grateful that you stuck around, in spite of all the frustration you sometimes felt. Now, you had never been stupid enough to think that being Eminem’s girlfriend would be all fun and games. Sure, there were perks, like getting some previews of music he’d been working on, or him being able to treat you to sweet gifts and flowers on the regular. But deep down, both of you knew that some of these attentions weren’t exactly selfless, that they were nothing but an attempt to make up for all the things he wasn’t able to give you. To his credit, Marshall did his best to accommodate you and keep you happy. He was a good boyfriend, caring and affectionate, and he understood just how frustrating it was that he didn’t take you places or claim you publicly. As nice and understanding as you were, he also knew that you wished for more commitment, too. After all, it wasn’t exactly stupid to want to move in with your partner after two years of dating, and he couldn’t blame you. 

However, the rules were the rules and he was adamant that they be kept in place. No spending more than one night at each other’s place, and no moving in together. Ever. In the early stages of your relationship, he had played it cool, as if he were distant but, eventually, you had come to understand that there was more to it. After a while, he told you the truth : yes, he had trauma and he had built walls, but that wasn’t all of it. These walls and boundaries weren’t just for him. They were meant to keep you safe, too. When he first mentioned Slim, you thought he was taking the « alter ego » thing a little further but he clarified the situation for you : Slim was not just some artistic project. He was an actual person, a part of him. His alter. A distinct identity that shared his body, with its own personality and memories. He had tried to break it down for you explaining what dissociative identity disorder was, that it was a result of early childhood trauma and that Slim had emerged as a protective figure. They called it a « minimal system ��. Most people with DID tend to have more alters but, in his case, it was just him and Slim. 

You had never met Slim and he intended to keep it that way. At the ripe age of 52, he had been alive and diagnosed long enough to know the damage Slim could cause. Sure, getting sober had helped keep him under control, but he didn’t trust him. Especially not around you. You were far too precious for him to take the risk of letting Slim ruin what you had, the beautiful relationship you had created. Hence the rules and his insistence on respecting them. However, you had been so sad, lately, that he wanted to cheer you up. And when you told him you needed more, that the only thing he could do to make things better would be to spend some actual time together, he ended up caving in. After all, Slim had not fronted in quite some time, and things were good between the two of you. So the probabilities that something wrong happened were quite low at the moment. He decided to indulge you and plan a romantic weekend not too far from home, taking you to his lake house. 

Yet, now that you were here, under the same roof for an extended time period, those familiar coils of anxiety tightened, making every breath a little harder, his thoughts jumpy and spiraling. Slim’s presence had quieted over the years, , but the more he felt for you, the more Slim became this lurking possibility. Slim was the hurt, the anger, the guy who fought back, and as much as Marshall cared for you, Slim didn’t trust you—or anyone else—to stay without hurting him. He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside as he washed a glass, hearing your soft laughter from the next room. He wanted this. He wanted to trust you. But that fear of Slim surfacing, of ruining what he had built, gnawed at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch. You deserved someone whole. But for her, he was willing to try. “Just keep it together, man,” he muttered to himself. You had stepped out to the dock for a bit, giving him a moment alone, and he’d almost relaxed, enough to breathe. But then he heard your phone chime on the counter beside him. The screen flashed with a notification from someone he didn’t recognize. It was just a message, innocent, probably nothing. But something about it twisted inside his mind, a taunting reminder of the betrayals he’d faced before, the people who’d let him down just when he’d let his guard down. He’d been cheated on and betrayed before. And Slim had been the one to pick up the pieces. 

The familiar cold slither crept up his spine. Slim. Before he knew it, that tense grip loosened, and the whole world around him shifted. Slim was fronting.

When you returned to the house, there was a lightness in your eyes. It had taken two years for Marshall to take you on a romantic getaway, and you were enjoying every second of it. Far from home, in the serenity of his secluded lake house, you were feeling at peace. As you kicked off your shoes by the door, you lovingly glanced at him. However, you quickly noticed that something was off. The way he was standing, holding himself seemed… different. There was something darker, more menacing about him, in the way he was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, his gaze hard and unyielding. You could see his mouth twitch into a smirk that was all but friendly. 

"Marshall?" you asked, your voice tentative, but you knew the answer before you even asked. Something in his stance, the dangerous intensity of his gaze, screamed Slim. Or, at least, the idea that you had of him, based on the description offered by Marshall.  He laughed, low and sharp, the sound echoing in the small room. "Marshall? Nah, baby. He’s… busy right now," he said, voice laced with contempt, eyes narrowing as he looked you over. There was an edge to him, a palpable threat that sent chills down your spine.

“Thought I’d fall for it?” Slim hissed, voice dripping with a venom you had never heard before. “Playing all sweet, acting like you’re different. Like you’d ever get him, really get him.” He took a step closer, his eyes dark and fierce, locking onto you with the intensity of a predator sizing up his prey.Your instincts were screaming for you to back away, to put distance between yourself and this stranger wearing Marshall’s face, but you held your ground. You knew this was part of him, knew the pain he carried, and despite the rush of fear coursing through you, you held his gaze.

“Slim,” you said, voice steady despite the trembling of your hands. “I know you’re just trying to protect him.” At that, Slim’s face twisted, and he laughed sharply, a humorless, biting sound. “Protect him? Protecting him means keeping you out.” In a flash, he grabbed the kitchen knife off the counter, the cold steel glinting as he held it up between the two of you. Your heart raced, and you pressed yourself back against the wall, body tensing as he moved closer, the tip of the knife grazing your skin. “You think you’re something special, huh? Like you’ll last?”.  He pinned you there, his free hand pressed against the wall beside you, keeping you locked in place as his dark gaze bore into yours. The anger radiating off him was electric, a force you could feel thrumming in the air between them.

“I know you’re scared, Slim,” you whispered, your voice still steady. You tried to ignore the way your breath hitched, the adrenaline making your heart beat so loudly you thought he could hear it. “I know you think you have to protect him. But I’m not here to hurt him. Or you.” For a second, the aggression in his stance wavered, his grip on the knife loosening slightly as his eyes flashed with something raw and unfiltered. But just as quickly, he shook his head, a sneer curling his lips. “You think it’s that easy?” he hissed, pressing a little closer, the blade still poised between the two of you.

Slim’s eyes blazed as he stared down at you, the tension thick in the air between you, knife gleaming dangerously close to your throat. “You don’t get it, do you?” he spat, voice a low, venomous rasp. “I’m here to make sure nobody hurts him again. Not now, not ever. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him.” His grip on the knife tightened, but he never crossed that line into true harm. “I’ve never had to hurt anyone bad enough to get the message across,” he continued, eyes narrowing. “But if I have to, I will. Happily.” Your heart pounded, adrenaline flooding your system, and despite the danger, or maybe because of it, a strange thrill twisted low in your stomach. You had never felt this kind of fear—or excitement. Slim’s intensity, his protectiveness, and the gleam of the blade caught the deepest parts of you off guard. Your gaze lingered on the knife, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, and you knew he noticed.

Slim’s eyes sharpened as he caught your reaction, his smirk returning with a dark amusement. “Really?” he taunted, a glint of something new in his expression. “You’re a freak, aren’t you? Getting all hot and bothered over a knife?”. Heat flushed your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. If anything, you felt herself drawn in deeper by his dark gaze, the thrill of his proximity. You knew it wasn’t exactly Marshall you were looking at, but they did share a body, and he was still incredibly attractive. You had always loved his warmth, his kindness. But Slim’s temper, the danger it had to it, was a different kind of attraction. “Maybe,” you murmured, voice soft but unwavering. You knew better than to deny it; there was something about this raw, protective side of him that drew her in, just as much as Marshall’s gentleness did. If anything, it meant that Slim loved Marshall as much as you did. 

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling lowly. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that his breath ghosted over your skin. “Maybe you’re not as weak as I thought. Maybe you really can handle this.” His hand shifted, pressing the blade just lightly enough against your throat to remind you of its presence, to push the line between danger and control. “We need someone who won’t be scared,” he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. “Someone who can take me just as much as they can take him.” Your pulse quickened, but you held his gaze, refusing to back down. “I’m not scared of you, Slim,” you said, your voice steady, eyes bright with both fear and thrill. “I can handle you.”

That was all it took for Slim to close the gap between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fierce, bruising kiss, his free hand gripping your waist with a possessiveness that was rougher, hungrier than anything you had ever felt with Marshall. He moved with a raw intensity, a desperation almost, as though testing your resolve, pushing your limits. And you met him with equal fervor, embracing the dark, powerful energy he radiated. The cold steel of the knife on you was possessive and firm, as he pulled you closer, pinning you against him, as though he wanted to devour you completely, to test every limit. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a low rasp, both mocking and appreciative. He looked at you with something raw, a flicker of respect mingled with a dark desire. “Maybe you’re worth more than I thought.” But even as Slim’s rough, hungry kiss pressed you to the edge of your senses, you could feel hints of Marshall beneath the surface—the softness in the way he cradled your head, the familiar tilt of his head as he deepened the kiss. It was Marshall you loved, yet in Slim, you could see all those broken pieces, the fragments of him he kept locked away.

The intensity of the moment blurred your sense of time, lost in the way Slim held you, kissed you, made you feel alive in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. But then, in a flash, his grip softened, his lips pulling away as he blinked, looking around as though waking from a nightmare. Marshall was back.

He looked down at his hand, still gripping the knife near your throat, and his eyes widened in horror, the color draining from his face. He dropped the knife as if it had burned him, stumbling back, his breaths ragged and shallow.

“Oh God, Babe—” His voice was a strangled whisper, trembling as he took another step back. “What… what did I do? I didn’t mean-…Oh my God…” He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze darting from you to the knife, to the place he had just been, with no memory of what had just happened, only the knowledge that he had held a knife to you and the terror that he might have hurt the woman he loved.

Marshall’s hands shook as he looked from the knife  to you, horror contorting his expression. He could barely process the scene that had just unfolded—the knife, the intensity, the awareness of Slim's presence so close to you. And that he had been the one holding it—that thought alone made his stomach churn. “Babe…” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw with anguish. “I could’ve… I could’ve hurt you.” His breaths came in shallow, frantic gasps, and he ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut. “You need to leave. Now.” You took a step toward him, but he shook his head, stumbling back as if the sight of you near him only twisted the knife of his guilt deeper. “Don’t come closer. Please. I can’t—I can’t risk it, not after this. I don’t trust myself. I don’t… I don’t trust him.” His words broke your heart. There was nothing you wanted more than to show him that you were alright, that Slim had not harmed you. 

“Marshall.” Your voice was calm, steady, a soft anchor in the whirlwind of his panic. “I’m okay. I’m right here. I’m not hurt.” He opened his eyes, and they were red, glossy with a frantic kind of pain. “I can’t let you risk it,” he said, his voice breaking. “You don’t understand—Slim, he could hurt you. I thought I could control it, but I don’t know if I can. Not around you. I love you too much to risk it. Please, you have to go.” But you stepped closer, ignoring the way his body flinched, determined to close the gap between the two of you. You reached out, taking his trembling hands in yours, grounding him in your warmth. “I’m not going anywhere, Marshall,” you said softly. “I see you—all of you. And none of it scares me. I know you, and I know you’d never truly hurt me.” His hands shook harder, the guilt and disbelief warring in his eyes. “You don’t get it,” he choked out, staring at your joined hands as though afraid to accept your touch. “I thought that too, but-. I’m not worth the risk anyway.”

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at you, your eyes gentle but resolute. “Marshall, I see you,” you repeated, your voice unwavering. “Every part of you. Slim too. And I’m not afraid.” He searched your face, as if desperately trying to find some hint of fear, a reason to pull away. But all he could see was your unshaken gaze, your steady presence, a strength he hadn’t expected but needed so deeply. His breath hitched, the remnants of his panic still hovering, but your words sank into him, easing the frantic beat of his heart. “Nothing will drive me away,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Slim had the opportunity to hurt me but he didn’t. If anything… He might actually like me.”

His expression softened, the fear giving way to a fragile kind of hope, and he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging as he absorbed your words. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his grip tentative at first but growing as he leaned into it, letting go of the guilt that had weighed him down. However, the relief Marshall felt in your arms was short-lived, giving way to an unsettling, creeping feeling. You hadn’t flinched. You’d looked him straight in the eyes, not with fear but with something else—something bolder, fiercer. He pulled back just enough to search your face, piecing together fragments of their brief, hazy conversation. His mind replayed those last few moments and he felt his stomach tighten, a bitter taste creeping into his mouth.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice barely audible, laced with a suspicion he didn’t want to acknowledge. “When I was… gone—did Slim…? What did he do ?” He couldn’t finish, his words halting as he scanned your expression, looking for answers he wasn’t sure he wanted. Your eyes flickered with a hesitant vulnerability, your cheeks flushing as you bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze. You swallowed, then nodded, just slightly. “He… yeah. We kissed,” you admitted softly, your tone cautious, trying to gauge his reaction.

Marshall’s heart stuttered, the ground seeming to drop beneath him. A pang of jealousy and anger twisted in his chest, sharp and unexpected. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he took a shaky step back. “You made out with him?” he demanded, his voice low and tense. “With Slim?” Your gaze snapped back to his, your brows furrowing slightly. “Marshall, it’s still you—all of you. I see that.”

But his mind couldn’t process that. It was a part of him, yes, but Slim wasn’t him. Slim was the darkness, the rage he’d spent his life trying to keep buried. And now, the idea of him with you—kissing you, holding you—sent a possessive wave through him he couldn’t shake. “Y/N, you don’t understand.” His voice was tight, almost pleading. “Slim isn’t…he isn’t me. Not really. And now he got close to you. Too close.” You took a step toward him, but he tensed, his fists clenching and unclenching as he battled the feelings roiling inside him. Jealousy, betrayal, fear—all simmering together in a painful cocktail. Your voice softened, gentle but firm. “Marshall, it’s all of you I’m here for. I knew Slim was a part of you. I didn’t expect to meet him like this, but… but I chose to be here, no matter what. That doesn’t change.” 

“But you kissed him,” he repeated, his tone accusatory, a mix of anger and confusion. “You’re mine, Y/N. I can’t… I can’t handle the thought of him touching you.” His voice broke slightly, the vulnerability raw and unfiltered. You stepped closer again, reaching out to him, your hand finding his. “Marshall, listen to me,” you said, your voice steady, anchoring him. “It was you. Even if Slim’s different, even if he’s the parts of you that hurt and protect, he’s still part of you. And that’s who I love—all of you.”

He hesitated, his jealousy still sharp, but you could tell that your words were beginning to soothe him. You squeezed his hand, your thumb tracing small circles on his skin, and he let himself breathe, trying to absorb the truth of your words. It didn’t come easy, and a part of him still seethed, still wrestled with the possessiveness clawing at him. But he felt the strength of your presence, the certainty in your gaze. “You’re still mine,” he murmured, the edge of jealousy in his voice softening. “I just… I need to know that no part of me, even Slim, can take you away from me.” You smiled, your gaze unwavering as you nodded. “I’m yours, Marshall. And nothing—not even Slim—will change that.” And you meant it. Every word. Your heart belonged to Marshall, but you wondered if Slim was some kind of hope you could hold on to, a way you could finally have more of Marshall.