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sheeezu · 16 days ago

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My shifting guidebook.

This is my last post, as melodramatic as I was in my last post, since both the posts I've made on here and reddit i got busy with responding to dms (for those confused check my first post) so i didn't permashift.

Unfortunately i still couldn't respond to all the messages and questions sent to my inbox and dms, mainly because of the different time zones and general laziness from my side.

I appreciate everyone who asked questions, although i felt it's a bit unfair since the answers to very common problems didn't reach everyone, and i want everyone to shift, i want everyone to shift tonight, so i decided i'll make a post to share all my knowledge, whatever i know, sort of like a parting gift.

And this isn't going to be a beginners guide, mainly for people who need a final push, and most importantly, for emergency shifters.

Onto the questions (: Divided into categories, skip through according to your needs :)

Detachment from CR, attachment to DR:

How can i detach from my CR/attach to my DR?

Generally, detachment can be achieved by numbing your emotions in your CR. But first, I would advise you to refrain from extreme and unhealthy detachment, because you'll end up getting stuck in a endless cycle of messing up your CR and not shifting (because you'd have no control over yourself, which would lead to your subconscious getting grounded in the messed up version of your CR; assuming that unhealthy detachment is daydreaming about your DR all day without any sense of where you are, without a strong mindset, when you eventually snap back you'll think even more vividly of your CR)

But- "unhealthy" attachment can be utilised to your advantage, to shift, in a controlled manner.

Pick a day to shift, let it be a weekend. After dusk, only indulge yourself in your DR. (When you're sure you have free time and you won't be disturbed) for me, I hid under the blanket, with a fully charged phone, I spent a portion of the hours listening to subliminals, and a portion of the time scrolling through pinterest with spotify in the background (things that remind you of your DR)

I recommend listening to detachment from CR and attachment to DR subs, and if you are a permashifter, and it's your deadline, go all out.

This is my advice for detachment from CR during the day, during the method it'll be different.

How can I detach from my CR while I'm shifting? I can't divert my attention away from my CR body/mind.

I'm writing in the pov of my own method.

The only way you can let go of the CR while you're shifting is with a calm mind. If you're overthinking about how you're going to carry out your method, whether you'd wake back in your CR, you'll have trouble reaching a detached state.

To detach, first of all, make yourself comfortable, do not try to force yourself into doing something, or laying in a position which makes you uncomfortable. Next, think of thoughts which pushes your CR to the side, your CR is just another reality, and you're the creator of it, treat it like its any other pebble on the road.

Affs: (again, void reality meaning your CR)

"Void reality? Huh, can't seem to remember what that is..."

"It's so peaceful not being in the void reality, going to fix it when I eventually return from my DR" (I vividly remember saying this, if you're a permashifter, make it so it fits your situation)

"..."

(Not saying anything says a lot, fall numb to your void reality and go onto your DR)

Remember, you're not answerable to your CR, its not your boss or captor, it's actually the opposite.

To attach to your DR during the method, in the middle phase of my method, say identity affs until you feel familiarise with your DR self, think of memories, have a small conversation with your DR loved ones, do a small rewind of your DR life in your mind, so you can ground yourself. I won't be going into much details on how to shift by becoming your DR self, my first post says it all.

How to detach from CR body?

Detaching your thoughts is basically detaching your CR body, the 30 second black out state is basically a window to shifting, because when your CR shuts up for a even just a few seconds it will give you the opportunity to divert your attention to your DR, no matter how fidgety you are.

Problems faced while shifting:

Something always itches me when I try to shift, any advice?

Before you're shifting, take a look at you're environmental factors, why are you feeling itchy in the first place?

If it isn't bugs, dry skin, I recall that during the method some symptoms are just itchiness.

Say affs to block off your senses first of all, until then try to control yourself

Affs:

"I have stopped sensing my void reality (CR)"

"I have stopped hearing, feeling, seeing my void reality"

If the need gets overwhelming and you're just starting your method, make yourself comfortable and move a bit, or just itch it, you can still shift.

I always fall asleep when I try to shift, what should I do?

During the day you're going to shift, and you know you're just tired and lack sleep, take a nap during the day.

If you didn't nap, or just generally feel sleepy still, turn my method into a sleep method, by letting yourself fall asleep while you're actively acting, thinking like your DR self (you'll wake up in your DR the next day)

Sleeping is a good tool for shifting, especially if you're starting to doze off while doing your method, you can achieve other states such as sleep paralysis, lucid dreaming or mind awake body asleep state, so don't get discouraged, if you prefer awake methods, there are some subliminals you can use to stay awake.

I always fear or dread shifting while doing my method and back out at the last minute.

(Copypasted from reddit)

Familiarise yourself with your DR, it's not scary if you know where you're laying, who you are, what's next to you and who's going to be in the room.

If you already start acting like your DR self then in theory fear shouldn't be here (why would you be scared being yourself in an environment which is supposed to be familiar to you?)

It also depends upon the kind of fear

Fear of spirits snatching your soul mid shift - listen to safety and protection subliminals (no, I wasn't personally possessed by demons last minute but it will put your mind at ease)

Fear of the unknown - familiarise yourself with your DR and shifting

Fear of symptoms - don't focus on them

Just know that nothing fearful will exist as long as you don't allow it to exist, you're the creator of your reality.

Trouble focusing while shifting.

Once you're even a tad bit detached from your CR, you would have no trouble focusing, because it's only your CR body's mind which is causing you trouble, the semi-void state in my method (when you don't feel your body that much, you force yourself to not have thoughts) is all you need to do to go onto the next phase of your method, and trust me, it'll feel very easy for you.

Prior to shifting, listen to frequencies, subliminals, basically flood your subconscious with your desired affs (calm mind subs, focus subs, general shifting and void state subliminals) when you're shifting, stare at the blackness and think of it as a milky way, like you're stargazing, I don't know why but your hyperfixation allows you to focus; count to a hundred, visualise your DR memories, youll eventually reach a trance state where you're focused and ready to shift. (if you can't visualise, then think of it in the form of a story)

Misc:

For folks with ADHD:

(Copy pasted from reddit)

I'd recommend try listening to subliminal (especially bundles) when you aren't feeling like doing anything or if you think your messing up.

Also try to keep yourself as comfortable as possible, if you can distract yourself in a way you aren't attached to your CR activities, for example watching movies or shows or youtube video which require minimal effort and attention

And im saying this only if you're utilizing a single day for shifting, or practicing LOA

while doing the method, i'd try to use as less time as possible, and if you feel off, then you can open your eyes and try the method after a small break.

Can I shift to-

Yes, yes, yes. You can shift to anywhere your mind can think up of, it really is that simple. You can shift to the past, shift to prevent a certain event, you can shift to a reality with a confusing concept, you can shift to become a chair.

Did you shift to a animated DR? How was it like?

I shifted to a pokemon DR where I studied pokemons for a living, but I quickly shifted back after 2 days because I got bored.

Personally for me I get creeped out of anything that's eerie or out of the ordinary.

So basically I scripted that it'll feel normal and I wouldn't even question it.

So I didn't, and now that I think about it, everything was proper, people had noses it wad 3D and everything, so just this reality except everyone looked unnaturally good and the world's graphic were different. If the entire world looks the same then nothing feels weird.

Your opinion on clones/time period?

I don't really care about clones or what they are, mainly because I believe in the consciousness theory, and the multiverse theory is a subdivision of consciousness theory, you basically let yourself believe there is a multiverse and for that reason it exists.

So in perceptive of the multiverse theory, your "clone" is just a body, which comes under your command or control.

It can't mess up your CR life, it'll make the same choices as you like you would have made if you were present in your CR.

Personally I had scripted that when I shift back I will wake up the next morning, following the night when I was shifting.

So my "clone" was just sleeping.

Secondly, stop stressing over your clone,

It'll just do what you want it to do, or just live life how you'd normally would

If you script your clone is a superhuman for the time you're in you DR, you'll shift back to a parallel reality of your CR where a superhuman lived your life for a while, but if you want you can just shift to a better CR like I did.

...

Those are all questions that came in my mind, I tried looking back into the chats and inbox to find more commonly asked questions or something I didn't clarify in my first post but most other questions had straight forward or a clear enough answer.

I really wanted to expand this post with more sections and questions, but in my opinion my first and this post combined are a lot of their own, I think I clarified a lot.

It's been a week being on Tumblr, and I loved helping people out, everyone was kind and unique in their own ways, I looked through my followers scripts and blogs and I enjoyed everyone's dedication to shifting, and their DRs (btw, I hadn't expected to get so many follows and notes, I'm genuinely suprised even now)

It had been a lovely experience being on shiftblr, in my opinion it's the best shifting, or just generally the best community on the internet.

As much as I would like to stay and blog regularly on here, I have to go back home, I'm permashifting in (from the time this post went up) 7 hours, and this time I'm not staying, so refrain from asking me questions after that, I won't respond, but this post will still be up.

Farewell, I hope your shifting journey conclude today and each of you live happily in your DR, with your well deserved love, respect and peace.

Goodbye c:

(Within the 7 hours, I may be partially active, if there is any question that is truly different and a genuine struggle for you, inbox me, I'll try my best to answer; I may as well post my DR script in my last few hours, since some people asked, remind me if I forget; also not posting on reddit, ive already annoyed the mods so much by breaking several rules)

#shifting blog #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting motivation #shifting community #shifters #shift #desired reality #shifting tumblr #shifting tips #shifting advice

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skulla-rxcks · 3 months ago

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❤️‍🩹Cold steak💋

Paring: Werewolf!Chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: PIV, unprotected

Day 3 of ktober

Not being able to sleep once again you decide to go for a walk, to look for your favourite creature of the night, this time bringing him a nice meal, but he wants more than that. He wants you as his meal.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: FYI this kind of ties into my other werewolf Chan fics so in this you already know Chan, the other two are probably better written if you end up liking this one please check them out ❤️

I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep at all, not even a blink. I’m staring at my ceiling and my minds all clogged up with all kinds of different thoughts.

I’d go for a walk but it’s too cold outside, and it’s also a full moon so I might see that werewolf guy again- whatever the hell his name was, i remember it started with ‘C’ though. I do want to try find him and see how he’s doing; it’s been a few months at least, maybe I should bring him some more meat this time.

I head into my kitchen and turn on the stove, I start frying some steak with some garlic and herbs for seasoning. I begin to cook up a nice simple meal; mainly consisting of steak and herbs, and a little bit of pasta on the side.

I put the food on a plate and take it out with me, ‘holy fuck it’s cold..’ I murmur to myself, putting my jacket on before locking up my apartment. I wonder where he is this time, probably at or around the lake. I continue down the path, the sounds of my boots crushing the rocks under my feet as I walk.

I make my way to the lake, sitting down on a rock, taking in the beautiful scenery of the water glistening in the moonlight.

I hear breathing creeping up behind me, the figure starts caressing my breasts from behind.

“Thought I smelled something tasty..” I turn my head, it’s him, the guy I was looking for, well, thing. “I was looking for you.. why haven’t you turned? Isn’t it a full moon?” I ask him, turning around to face him. He takes his hands of me “yeah but, it isn’t that bright tonight.. which is probably why.” He explains to me.

“Can I ask what your name is again.. I kind of forgot, it’s been a while.” “Chan, Chris. Whatever you prefer, pretty. Did you come back because you missed me? Because I missed you more. Need to fill you with my puppies again.”

I blush at his words, giving him a shy nod.

“I also bought you more food.. I tried to make something a bit more fancy this time.” I hand him the plate. “Here, try it, let me know what you think..” He smiles in response, taking a bite of the meal I made especially for him. “Tastes good but it’s a bit too cold for me.” He says, placing the place on the rock next to me using it as a makeshift table before taking a seat as well. “I’m so sorry uhm, do you want to come back with me to my apartment so you can heat it to your liking?”

“I think I’d prefer something else first, I’m fine with cold meat, if it’s yours.” Chan licks his lips. “May I? I’d love to watch you come undone for me once again..” I bite my lip, his words making it harder to resist as he explains how much he wants to taste me, to make me feel good again.

“Okay, uhm, what would you like me to do.?” I smile shyly, it’s been ages since I’ve been intimate with someone, last time I was it was with him so I don’t know why I’m so shy all of the sudden. “Bra off, wanna bury my face in your beautiful titties, I’ll pay attention to your cunt later.” I do as he says, lifting my shirt up over my head and unclipping my bra, my boobs bouncing slightly as they loose the support. “Just as pretty as I remember, mm..” he pulls me into his lap, reaching up and massaging my breast while wrapping his warm wet lips around one of my nipples.

“Nngh..!” I let out a whimper, the sensation of his lips on me and the cold air of the night making me so fucking wet I can hardly take it anymore; being not able to resist I start grinding myself on his thigh, trying to create friction between his thigh and my crotch. “Chris.. pussy.. touch my pussy.” I beg, rubbing myself harder against him. “Needy baby..” he chuckles, unzipping my jeans and putting his hand in my panties, rubbing my clitorus as he continues to suckle on my nipple. “I’m gonna cum..” I moan out. “Already? No your not, not yet baby girl.” He pulls away, removing his hands from my body, completely making me deny my orgasm. “Why..?”

“Take me to your place, gonna ruin you in your own home.”

I blush at the thought of him fucking me in my own bed, so I agree. Putting my shirt and bra back on before taking his hand and leading him into my apartment.

“I just realised I left the food.” He exclaims.

“Who cares, fuck the food! Fuck me instead” I take him into my room, I turn around and strip completely naked, once I turn back I see that he’s turned. Finally, for some reason him having ears, claws and a tail only escalates my excitement for him to be inside of me. “Lay down and open your fucking legs.” He growls, pushing me down on my bed, as soon as I open my legs he pushes inside of me with a loud grunt. “Tight cunt.. god I needed this.” Chan thrusts into me hard, making me moan out in pleasure, his dick fills me up so fucking well.

“You feel so fucking good.. fuck you’re killing me here, baby. You’re killing me.” Im holding onto him tightly as he ruins my cunt, digging my nails into his back. “Chris~ please. cum inside me.. I wanna be filled with your puppies..” I beg as I grab onto him harder, almost painfully gripping him. “here it comes.. take it.. take all of my cum inside of your greedy pussy.” with one final thrust he fills me up, filling up my hole so well I can feel his semen dripping out of me. I force my lips onto his and kiss him deeply before passing out from tiredness. and soon after he does too.

#~skulla rxcks #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz hard thoughts #ktober

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pickingupmymercedes · 10 months ago

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Welcome!

Ella ◦ (she/her) ◦ Masterlist ◦ 1k Jukebox (1k event)◦ reqs: closed ◦

My ask and inbox are always open to chat, come say hello!

1k Jukebox (1k Followers Celebration)

Agora Hills - Doja Cat (Fluff, bits of angst)

Nothing without you - The Weeknd (Fluff)

Through the night - Maeta (Angst)

Partition - Beyoncé (NSFW)

As you leave - Canaan Cox (Fluff)

Let me go - Lou Val (Angst and NSFW)

Die with a smile - Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars (Fluff)

No chill - PND (Fluff and Angst)

Bed chem - Sabrina Carpenter (NSFW)

Diamonds - Rihanna (Fluff)

Grovel - April Jai (Angst)

Steal my girl - 1D (Fluff)

Pretty please - Dua Lipa (NSFW)

Back to december - Taylor Swift pt.1 pt.2 (Fluff and Angst)

Sexual love - Maeta (Fluff)

Do me - Kim Petras (NSFW)

Let it happen - Gracie Abrams (Angst and Fluff)

Neva play - Meghan Thee Stallion (Fluff)

Dinasty - Miia (Angst)

Hold on til we're old - Jamie Miller (Fluff)

Rocket - Beyoncé (NSFW)

Kiss me - Cassie (NSFW)

Blessed - Daniel Caesar (Fluff)

That Girl - Olly Murs (Fluff)

London Boy - Taylor Swift (Fluff)

34+35 - Ariana Grande (NSFW)

You're in love - Taylor Swift (Fluff and Angst)

Won't say I'm in love - Hercules (Fluff and Angst)

Ruin my life - Zara Larsson (Fluff and Angst)

Nervous - John Legend (Fluff)

Bite-Sized Celebration (500 Followers) - Read the blurbs from the celebration

Lastest pieces

White Fireproof - NSFW

“I’m only pointing out the obvious. The 2019 ones were iconic. These? Meh.” “I don’t remember much from that race. But those ten minutes? Burned into my memory forever.”

Ageless Wonder - Fluff (Las Vegas Special)

“How long can I leave it up before PR calls me personally to tell me I’m banned from every Mercedes garage on Earth?”. “I’d say we’ve got a couple hours before the panic sets in. Maybe three if I keep ignoring my phone.”

What it means - Fluff

“Since I was five, since I first saw Ayrton race on TV. He was my absolute hero, and I didn’t know much about the world back then, didn’t know what I could be, but seeing him… it made me believe.

Can't check out - NSFW

“Where’s the cutthroat guy who would have had me pinned to the wall by now?"

Lucky you're hot - Fluff

The kind of kiss that would’ve been cute—if it weren’t for the fact that I was very much on camera, in a professional setting, with a dozen or so people watching.

A smile like that - Fluff

"And he’s out there, posting photos like it’s some romantic movie."

Lewis FULL Masterlist

I mainly write for Lewis Hamilton but I can be persuaded to write for Sebastian Vettel, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.

Also, I'm a huge Senna and Lauda fan, so they could be included as well.

There's little I consider too much, so feel free to send in anything. (This is a safe place ❤️)

Want to get to know me? Need questions?

NOTE: any bigotry/discrimination of any kind are NOT welcomed!!! Please, be nice.

WRITING TAG POST - if you want to be tagged interact with this post, comment on any of my works or send me DM/ask

#ella asks

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dailyadventureprompts · 11 months ago

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Dm Tip: Playing the Villain/ Guidelines for "Evil" Campaigns

I've never liked the idea of running an evil game, despite how often I've had people in my inbox asking how I'd go about it. I'm all about that zero-to-hero heroic fantasy not only because I'm a goodie twoshoes IRL but because the narrative-gameplay premise that d&d is built around falls apart if the party is a bunch of killhappy murder hobos. Not only would I get bored narrating such a game and indulging the sort of players who demands the freedom to kill and torture at will (I've had those before and they don't get invited back to my table), but the whole conceit of a party falls through when the obviously villainous player characters face their first real decision point and attempt to kill eachother because cooperation is a thing that goodguys do.

Then I realized I was going about it all wrong.

The problem was I had started out playing d&d with assholes, those "murder and torture" clowns who wanted to play grand-theft-auto in the worlds I'd created and ignore the story in favour of seeing how much unchallenged chaos they could create. They set my expectations for what an evil campaign was, and I spent the rest of my time developing as a dungeonmaster thinking " I Don't want any part of that"

But what would an evil campaign look like for my playgroup of emotionally healthy friends who understand character nuance? What would I need to change about the fundamental conceit of d&d adventures to refocus the game on the badguys while still following a similar enough narrative-gameplay premise to a hero game? How do we make that sort of game relatable? What sort of power/play fantasy can we indulge in without going off the deepend?

TLDR: In an evil campaign your players aren't playing the villains, they're the MINIONS, they're mooks, henchmen, goons, lackeys. They're the disposable underlings of uncaring overseers who have nothing but ill intent towards them and the world at large.

Where as in a hero game the party is given the freedom to challenge and overthrow corrupt systems, in an evil game the party is suck as part of that corrupt system, forced to bend and compromise and sacrifice in order to survive. The fantasy is one of escaping that corrupt system, of biding your time just long enough to find an opening, find the right leverage, then tossing a molitov behind you on the way out.

Fundamentally it's the fantasy of escaping a shitty job by bringing the whole company down and punching your asshole boss in the face for good measure.

Below the cut I'm going to get into more nuance about how to build these kinds of narratives, also feel free to check out my evil party tag for campaigns and adventures that fit with the theme.

Designing a campaign made to be played from the perspective of the badguys requires you to take a different angle on quest and narrative design. It’s not so simple as swapping out the traditionally good team for the traditionally bad team and vis versa, having your party cut through a dungeon filled with against angel worshiping holyfolk in place of demon worshipping cultists etc.

Instead, the primary villain of the first arc of the campaign should be your party’s boss. Not their direct overseer mind you, more CEO compared to the middle managers your party will be dealing with for the first leg of their journey. We should know a bit about that boss villain’s goals and a few hints at their motivation, enough for the party to understand that their actions are directly contributing to that inevitable doom.

“Gee, everyone knows lord Heldred swore revenge after being banished from the king’s council for dabbling in dark magic. I don’t know WHY he has us searching for these buried ancient tablets, but I bet it’s not good”

Next, you need a manager, someone who’s a part of the evil organization that the party directly interfaces with. The manager should have something over the party, whether it be threats of force, blackmail, economic dependency… anything that keeps the antiheroes on the manager’s leash. Whether you make your manager an obvious asshole or manipulative charmer, its important to maintain this power imbalance: The party arn’t going to be rewarded when the boss-villain’s plan goes off, the manager is, but the manager’s usefulness to the boss-villain is contingent on the work they’re getting the party to do. This tension puts us on a collison course to our first big narrative beat: do the party get tired of the manager’s abuse and run away? Do they kill the manager and get the attention of the upper ranks of the villainous organization? Do they work really hard at their jobs despite the obvious warning signs and outlive their usefulness? Do they upstage their manager and end up getting promoted, becoming rivals for the boss-villain’s favor?

Building this tension up and then seeing how it breaks makes for a great first arc, as it lets your party determine among themselves when enough is enough, and set their goals for what bettering the situation looks like.

As for designing those adventures, you’ll doubtlessly realize that since the party arn’t playing heroes you’ll need to change how the setup, conflict, and payoff work. They’re still protagonists, we want them to succeed after all, but we want to hammer home that they’re doing bad things without expecting them to jump directly to warcrimes.

Up to no good: The basic building block of any evil campaign, our party need to do something skullduggerous without alerting the authorities. This of course is going to be easier said than done, especially when the task spins out of control or proves far more daunting than first expected. The best the party can hope for is to make a distraction and then escape in the chaos, but it will very likely end with them being pursued in some manner (bounties, hunters, vengeful npcs and the like). Use this setup early in a campaign so you have an external force gunning for your party during the remainder of their adventures.

Dog eat dog: It’s sort of cheating to excuse your party’s villainous actions by having them go up against another villain who happens to be worse than they are. The trick is that we’re not going after this secondary group of outlaws because they’re bad, we’re doing it because they’ve either got something the boss wants, or they’re edging in on the boss’s turf. This sort of plotline sees the party disrupting or taking advantage of a rival’s operation, then taking over that operation and risking becoming just as villainous as that rival happened to be. This can also be combined with an “Up to no good” plot where both groups of miscreants need to step carefully without alerting an outside threat.

The lesser evil: This kind of plot sees your party sent out to deal with an antagonistic force that’s a threat not only to the boss’s plans but to everyone in general. In doing so they might end up fighting alongside some heroes, or accidentally doing good in the long run. This not only gives your party a taste of heroism, but gives them something in their back pocket that could be used to challenge the boss-villain in the future.

The double cross: In order to get what they want, the party need to “play along” with a traditional heroic narrative long enough to get their goal and then ditch. You have them play along specifically so they can get a taste of what life would be like if they weren't bastards, as well as to make friends with the NPCs inevitably going to betray. This is to make it hurt when you have the manager yank the leash and force the party to decide between finishing the job , or risk striking out on their own and playing hero in the short term while having just made a long term enemy. This is sort of plot is best used an adventure or two into the campaign, as the party will have already committed some villainous deeds that one good act can’t blot out.

Next, lets talk about the sort of scenarios you should be looking to avoid when writing an evil campaign:

Around the time I started playing d&d there was this trend of obtusely binary morality systems in videogames which claimed to offer choice but really only existed to let the player chose between the power fantasy of being traditionally virtuous or the power fantasy of being an edgy rebel. Early examples included:

Do you want to steal food from disaster victims? in Infamous

Do you as a space cop assault a reporter who’s being kind of annoying to you? in Mass Effect

Do you blow up an entire town of innocent people for the lols? in Fallout (no seriously check out hbomberguy’s teardowm on fallout 3’s morality system and how critics at the time ate it up)

I think these games, along with the generational backwash of 90s “edge” and 00s “grit” coloured a lot of people's expectations ( including mine) about what a "villain as protagonist" sort of narrative might look like. They're childish exaggerations, devoid of substance, made even worse by how blithely their narratives treat them.

Burn down an inn full of people is not a good quest objective for an evil party, because it forces the characters to reach cartoonish levels of villainy which dissociates them from their players. Force all the villagers into the inn so we can lock them inside and do our job uninterrupted lets the party be bad, but in a way that the players can see the reason behind it and stay synced up with their characters. The latter option also provides a great setup for when the party's actually monstrous overseer sets the inn on fire to get rid of any witnesses after the job is done. Now the party (and their players) are faced with a moral quandary, will they let themselves be accessories to a massacre or risk incurring their manager's wrath? Rather than jumping face first into cackling cruelty, these sorts of quandaries have them dance along the knife's edge between grim practicality and dangerous uncertainly; It brings the player and character closer together.

Finally, lets talk about ending the villain arc:

I don't think you can play a whole evil campaign. Both because the escalation required is narratively unsustainable, but also because the most interesting aspect of playing badguys is the breaking point. Just like heroes inevitably having doubts about whether or not they're doing the right thing, there's only so long that a group of antiheroes can go along KNOWING they're doing the wrong thing before they put their feet down and say "I'm out". I think you plan a evil campaign up until a specific "there's no coming back from this" storybeat, IE letting the Inn burn... whether or not the party allows it to happen, it's the lowest point the narrative will allow them to reach before they either fight back or allow themselves to be subsumed. If they rebel, you play out the rest of the arc dismantling the machine they helped to build, taking joy in its righteous destruction. If they keep going along, show them what they get for being cogs: inevitably betrayed, sacrificed, or used as canon fodder when the real heroes step in to do their jobs for them.

Art

#dm tip #dm tips #writing advice #evil party #drafting the adventure #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #blades in the dark #ttprg #pathfinder

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mandarinmoons · 5 months ago

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x gender neutral reader

Word count: ~ 600

Summary: Spencer breaks up with you after seeing how much his job at The BAU affected you as he didn’t want to be the cause of your declining mental health, but ending the relationship had the opposite effect on you than what he thought

Spencer lied on his bed as he stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to give into his desires of grabbing his phone and calling you because lord knows he’s the last person you’d want to talk to. He missed you terribly, but he knew you would be upset at him if he were to try and make contact.

The reason for that being is that Spencer forced himself to end things with you because he saw how his work life affected you. He’d lost track of how many times he’d found you fallen asleep behind his door for when he got home. He’d unlock the door and scoop you into his arms, his body shuddering from the cold that emanated from you. Or how he took notice of your thinning figure. You made sure that Spencer always had a full dinner platter whenever he got home, but he often saw you only finishing half of what was on your plate.

“I ate before you got home, I’m not that hungry,” is what you’d always say, but it didn’t stop Spencer from worrying.

After a few months of consideration, Spencer bit the bullet and tried his best to let you down easy. But unbeknownst to him there was never a way of doing things that way, because he was the love of your life and that day was the day you felt your heart break into so many small pieces that it would be impossible to mend it back together.

Spencer kept on imagining all of the ways you’d improve now that he wasn’t in your life. Maybe you’d learn to cook more or perhaps maybe you took on those yoga lessons you’d been dying to try out.

In reality though, you were having a hard time getting dressed and even harder time getting out of bed. You had your mother and friends check up on you daily to see how you were doing and every time you’d respond with “I’m okay,” when that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Half of the day was spent either lying in bed trying to read one of the last books Spencer had gifted you or being sat on the sofa while watching a crime show, the same show you’d watch while waiting for Spencer to come home, and now hoping that he’d magically come up to your door take you back.

A majority of the week's diet consisted of supernoodles and the occasional piece of fruit so you wouldn’t feel like complete crap. You’d chuckle to yourself bitterly as you’d remember a fact about the fruit you were having that was told by Spencer. Most of the time you didn’t understand any of the terminology he’d use, but you still loved to listen to him talk and as you ate away, you realized you’d never get to experience it again.

As much as it brought you a bit of ease whenever each day was over, it also brought along a bit of misery with it as it finally dawned on you that Spencer was really gone. He would never hold your hand again, he would never kiss your forehead again and you’d never hear the three words you loved most that came from his mouth,

“I love you.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream @kers505

If you'd like to be removed from the taglist send me a DM or a message in my inbox

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid angst

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baby-tini · 5 months ago

Note

I know your requests are closed and I'm so sorry if I'm bothering you bit I'm not feeling the best mentally right and your writing is a big comfort for me. Again if you don't want too I understand, but could you write Dazai with a suicidal/depressed reader, he's a really big comfort to me, thank you!!!

Don't worry baby, you're not bothering me, and I'm so honored you feel comfortable enough too ask for something like this. My inbox and DMs are always open if you or anyone wants too talk, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way love, I completely understand, and I really do hope that you feel better soon.

TW- Suicidal Ideation, Mention of Self-Harm, Depressive Episode

-He knew. He knew when you woke up that morning not as affectionate or loving. He knew, when the past couple of days seemed extremely hard for you too get out of bed. He knew when he looked in your eyes and he saw the same yearning for death that stared back at him in his reflection.

-You didn't have too tell him, but when he asked you if you were okay and you just broke in his arms, he knew. He called out of work that day, not even letting Kunikida get a word in as he hung up the call and laid you down in bed, where he proceeded too spend hours with you.

-He wouldn't make you talk about it, he'd ask if you wanted too talk, and he'd listen to everything that you said, wiping your tears away as he pushed the wet sticky strands of hair that were glued to your cheeks behind your ear.

-If you did wanna talk about how you're feeling and how everything just felt so meaningless, like you were doing so much for nothing. He'd listen, he'd listen to every word that left your lips as he nodded and would give his imput or ask a question every so often.

-If you didn't wanna talk about it, he'd understand, he doesn't really talk about his feelings either so he'll just let you lay on him and cry into his chest as much as you need. Softly running his hands through your hair as he pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head.

-He'd keep an eye on you for a while. A couple months if he had too, even if he could tell that you were happy and were no longer having those thoughts and feelings. He can't afford too lose you, you're everything to him. So even if he has too stop going to work for a while, he will. If he needs too take days off work for you and comfort you, he will, if being around him makes you happy, just ask, he doesn't really care that much for paperwork anyway, he'll just ask Atsushi and he really could careless for the consequences. There's a lot of people at the ADA, other people could work cases. You need him and that's all that matters.

-He understands the ugliness of depression, so he understands how you feel, maybe not completely but he can relate quite heavily to the topic, so if you need him too wash your hair as you sit in the bathtub, he will. If you haven't eaten, he'll order something for you, if you're not hungry, he understands but you'll have too eat even if it's a little bit. Just a couple bites and he'll be satisfied.

-If you're someone who likes too, or prefers too be left alone, he understands, because he's the same way. He'll let you be, but he won't leave you alone, he's not comfortable with that. He'll check on you quite a lot, even if it's just an, "are you okay" or a, "do you need anything" that he asks through the door. He's satisfied because he knows you're alive and he can hear you.

-He doesn't mind when the room gets dirty, if you don't have the will too do laundry or too even get up too brush your teeth, he gets it. Especially if he's also in a similar headspace at the time and he doesn't have the mental strength too get up and clean. It'll be dealt with when you both feel better, that's the last thing on his mind as he lays with you in bed, in the quiet room enjoying your soft breath against his neck as he feels your chest rise and fall.

-If you're someone who self-harms and you partake in self-destructive behavior, he'll be more on you. He will not leave your side. He will take everything that could hurt you and he'll hide it. Now, he knows you're an adult and you're capable of making your own decisions, but he can't take any chances, one wrong... move and you could kill yourself, and like I said, he can't take any chances.

-If you take any medications, he'll be the one too give them to you, he doesn't want too make you feel like a child but he understands that when people are in that head-space, they make bad decisions and they're desperate for even the smallest bit of mental release so they'll make themselves feel physical pain, but he can't let you do that.

-If you become actively suicidal and try too attempt on your own life, he will hold you hostage of sorts. He won't tie you up or anything, but he will keep you with him at all points of the day, he'd go days without sleep just too watch you and make sure you're safe. You are no longer allowed too be on your own, he doesn't want you too feel worse by making you think he doesn't trust you, because all he wants is too make sure you're safe. You can cuss and yell at him- even hit him if you need too, but he can't and he won't take those chances.. not with you he won't- he can't.

#baby-tini #anon ask #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x you #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #dazai bsd #dazai #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai rp #yandere dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd headcanons

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dixons-sunshine · 7 months ago

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Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter Two | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Daryl get a little bit more insight on your ambushers. The leader, Liam, is extremely suspicious, but you just can't figure out why. And to top it off, a certain secret of yours gets revealed that changes everything.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 3.6k.

A/n: It's finally done. I powered through and got it done. Yay me! However, this chapter is pretty boring with limited action, but I hope y'all like this nonetheless!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89, @jupiter1700, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @ddamm (comment/DM/inbox to be added!)

“I know, it's a lot to take in at first.” With a grand gesture and a big, inviting smile, Liam proudly showed off the beautiful landscape behind him, putting all of the luxuries they had on display for you and Daryl to see—well, as far as luxuries could go in a world ran by the undead. “But I promise you, as soon as you get settled into your new...” There was a slight pause before he continued. “...chambers, a wonderful life most certainly awaits you.”

The leader's voice barely reached your ears. The whole scenario baffled you; if they wanted you to join their community, why feel the need to ambush and kidnap you? Why tie you up and throw you in the back of a van, with a sack over your head to obscure your vision, most likely as a way to ensure you didn't know what turns they took? And why wouldn't they just ask you whether or not you wanted to join the community in the first place?

A million thoughts ran with the speed of light through your mind, but there was one thing you knew for sure; you didn't trust this Liam guy, and you certainly didn't trust this community. You could immediately tell that something was off. You couldn't figure out just yet what about it unnerved you so much.

“Dave, Marco.” At the sound of their names being called, the two guys who stood beside you and Daryl perked up, their backs straightening as they regarded their leader. “Make sure that the cooks make enough food for our newest additions. And,” he began, looking at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. Whether it was real or not, you didn't know yet. “Call up doctor Miller and tell him to expect two patients.”

“Why two?” one of the goons questioned. He looked at Daryl in disgust, something that irked you beyond belief. “Only the sexy lady here seems like she needs it.”

From the corner of your eye, you could clearly see Daryl tense up. To the untrained eye, they wouldn't even have noticed the way the archer's body language shifted, but you caught it. Of course you caught it. You knew Daryl better than anyone, and you knew that he was getting more pissed off by the second. One wrong move, and that man was more dead than the monster's that roamed the earth.

“Jesus, Dave,” Liam reprimanded him, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. “You knocked the guy out with some hardcore stuff. We don't know how much of the fumes he inhaled. I don't want to take any chances. Our guests need to be properly checked out.”

Dave grumbled something under his breath, but ultimately agreed. However, right before he and the other man, who you assumed to be Marco, walked off in the direction of a small building, he stopped next to Liam and whispered something in his ear. The leader nodded before waving him off. They left and soon disappeared, and your attention quickly got drawn to the leader again.

Liam turned back to regard you and your husband. His lips formed into a tight smile, his eyes squinting with the pull of the muscles. For some reason, the action sent a shiver up your spine, and definitely not the good kind you'd experience when Daryl softly traced his fingers over your back. You had a lot to be wary of, and this Liam guy certainly didn't make a very good first impression on you or Daryl. You were sure that your husband wanted to lunge at the man and pound his face into the ground with his bare hands, and you definitely didn't blame him. You wanted to do the exact same thing.

Liam motioned to someone over your shoulder. In moments, somebody was grabbing at your shoulders and hoisting you up onto your feet. You stumbled a bit, not tumbling back to the ground only because Liam stepped forward to steady you. You instantly jerked back, moving away from his touch. You would've punched him for even thinking of touching you when he was the reason you were probably light-years away from your friends and family, but the rope tightly binding your hands stopped you from doing so.

You heard grunting coming from behind you. You spun around and saw the same goon practically manhandling your husband, forcing him up to his feet. When Daryl struggled against his hold, the man decided that punching him would be a good decision. The sight of Daryl being knocked back down to the gravel unleashed a certain protectiveness in you, and you took a warning step forward.

“You stay the fuck away from him, and keep your goddamn hands to yourself!” you yelled in anger, moving over to your husband and sinking down to your knees beside him. You thanked your lucky stars that your hands were bound in front of you and not behind your back, because it allowed you to trace your fingers over his face, searching for any bleeding. “Baby—”

“M'alrigh',” Daryl mumbled, glaring up at his attacker, his eyes alight with the fire of a thousand suns. “Asshole punches like a girl. No offense, Peach.”

You gave him a small smile. “None taken.” You helped him sit back up with a lot of effort, your hands straining against the rope and getting rope burn in the process. You clambered up onto your knees and carefully stood up, struggling to maintain your balance. Daryl followed your lead, and soon the two of you were stood in front of the leader.

Liam gazed at the two of you thoughtfully, his face unreadable. His green eyes flickered between you and Daryl for a moment too long for your liking before he readapted his smile. “Sorry about that, mate,” he began, his gaze landing on Daryl before moving over to the goon that had just attacked Daryl a few moments prior. “Peter just doesn't know how to behave himself.” The aforementioned man cowered under his leader's gaze, something you instantly picked up on and locked in the back of your mind. “Don't worry, he'll be punished appropriately.”

“Sir, please, I'm so—”

“Save it,” Liam snapped, glaring at the man harshly. “You know the rules, Peter. All actions have consequences. Those are the rules. If I ease up on you, the next person will expect me to do so and order will be disrupted.” He stopped for a few moments, simply staring at Peter with an unreadable look in his eyes. “You are dismissed. I expect you to be in my office in two hours. If you're not, well, you know what will happen.”

Whether that last part was a warning or a threat, you didn't know. However, what you did know was that for whatever reason, this Peter guy was deathly terrified of his leader. He visibly slumped and averted his eyes from everyone as he hurried away, practically bolting as if being chased by something.

Now being left alone with Liam, your eyes locked with the man's green ones. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but there was something wrong with the man in front of you. He reminded you a lot of the Governor, the more you thought about it, but at the same time, he was different. It annoyed you to no end that you couldn't quite figure out exactly what about the green-eyed man made you feel cautious.

Well, his men ambushed and kidnapped you and your husband, so that was a pretty good place to start.

“Once again, I am so incredibly sorry about that,” Liam started, his face adapting a look of sympathy. “Peter is a rather new addition to my ‘police force’, so to speak. He hasn't quite learned that we don't resort to violence unless it's an absolute necessity.” He stopped for a second, looking at you before sighing. “Miss, I truly am sorry about what Peter did to you as well. Please excuse me for saying this again, but you do look like shit.”

You couldn't understand what this man's deal was. Merely a few minutes ago, while he was surrounded by multiple of his men, he had seemingly mocked you about the injuries you had sustained. However, now he was apologizing and being sympathetic? What was this man's motive?

“Now, Daryl and Y/N, I believe?” Liam began, successfully gaining confused and guarded looks from both you and your husband.

“How the hell do ya know tha'?” Daryl barked defensively, straightening his back to appear larger��almost as if he was facing a bear.

Liam's lips twitched up into a small wicked smirk at the archer, but he very quickly disguised it with a welcoming smile. “I know a lot of things, mate.” He shrugged his shoulders and motioned to the farmland surrounding you. “I need to know things to keep my people safe. They depend on me, you know?”

“Still doesn't answer my goddamn question,” Daryl practically growled, taking a threatening step towards the man. “How the fuck do ya know our names?”

Liam didn't falter under the Dixon man's harsh glare. If anything, he straightened his posture and met Daryl head-on, his height adding an advantage over the archer. However, having known your husband for a long time, you knew it was time to intervene before he started a fight he wouldn't be able to finish. His hands were tied and Liam had who knows how many people to back him up. The two of you were heavily outnumbered and outgunned.

“Daryl,” you called to him softly, raising your tied hands to gently grip his shoulder. “I really don't think that's the thing we should be concerned about right now. It doesn't matter if he knows our names. What matters is that we have to get the fuck out of here. We do that by playing along for now,” you mumbled into his ear, quiet enough to not alert Liam of your plan.

Daryl glared at the leader of the community for a few moments longer before stepping back, sharing a determined look with you. You gave him a small smile before turning back to Liam, regarding the green-eyed man with a strained, fake smile.

“I'm sorry about him,” you began, your voice sickeningly sweet. You were taking a page out of Carol's book—you were playing the wolf in sheep's clothing, biding your time until you and Daryl could strike back. You could only hope that your earlier outburst towards Peter wouldn't be used to call your bluff. “It's just that we weren't brought here under the friendliest circumstances. And now you know our names and it's a bit creepy. He's being wary.”

“For good reason,” Liam replied with a nod, motioning for you and Daryl to follow him. You shared a look with Daryl before following behind the man, Daryl following close behind. “You can't be sure about the dangerous pricks that are out there.”

“Ironic, ain't it?” Daryl grumbled lowly, glaring at Liam through his hair as the two of you followed behind the leader. He received a slight jab to his stomach from your elbow, and he let out a soft grunt.

“You see, that's why we built this place.” Liam walked on and motioned to the fields on his left. There were multiple people working on the crops; some watering, some picking, and some planting. You couldn't be completely sure, but you swore you saw a faint glint of metal wrapped around most of the workers' legs. Were you just out of it from the pain in your head, or were those shackles?

“Well, built is the wrong word. We found this farm back when everything first went to shit. The crops and the farmhouse were luckily still standing. We... expanded, so to speak. We built the walls to keep the flesh eaters out and built more homes on the property to house our growing population.” He stopped and turned back to you and Daryl. “I hope you don't mind, but you'll have to stay in the farm house with me for the time being. We're busy building new homes but it won't be ready for another couple of weeks, maybe months.”

“Jus' one question 'fore we decide,” Daryl began, stepping forward. “Why'd ya have to bring us here by force? Why didn't ya jus' ask us to come here instead of kidnappin' us?”

Liam stared at Daryl with a blank expression on his face. His face didn't give anything away, and it unnerved you beyond belief. However, he soon gave the two of you yet another smile. You were genuinely starting to wonder if his face was starting to hurt from the excessive amount of smiling.

“There's a reason for everything, champ. However, not everyone is allowed to know my reasonings to the things I do. That's reserved for the people I trust. But do know that I did it for your own goods. Between you and me, that entire building was surrounded by flesh eaters. You most certainly would've died without my men.”

“Wha' the hell do ya know 'bout—”

“Sir? I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but Dr Miller is ready for the new arrivals,” a small, timid woman spoke up, gaining the attention of you, Daryl and Liam.

“Ah, Mariah,” Liam spoke, nodding at her in greeting. He turned back to you and Daryl, using his hand to motion towards the woman. “Please follow her to Dr Miller. He'll make sure to patch you up and ensure you're fit and ready for tomorrow.” He walked a few steps backwards and clapped his hands twice. “Welcome to Sunny Meadows! Come meet me in the farm house once you're done.”

With that, he turned around and stalked off, leaving you and Daryl alone with the woman, Mariah. The aforementioned woman turned to look at the two of you. She was nervously fidgeting with her hands, her posture slouched and her eyes couldn't decide whether to focus on you, your husband, your wounds, the ropes tying your hands together, or the ground. You were confused by her obvious fear towards you. What people was she used to dealing with? Did she really think that you were going to hurt her?

“Please follow me,” she stammered out with a nervous squeak, turning around and speeding off into the direction of the very same building those other men, Dave and Marco, had disappeared into earlier.

You hesitantly started following her. Daryl grumbled and followed your lead, glaring at any person who dared to lock eyes with him. You had to withhold your chuckles at your husband, knowing that it was neither the time nor place for that. Under normal circumstances, you'd laugh at your husband's antics. But not now. Not when your main priority was getting the hell out of that place.

You soon arrived at the makeshift medical building. You followed her in, taking in the pure doctor-like feel of the building. If you didn't know any better and somebody had blindfolded you and brought you here, you would've believed that this was a legitimate doctor's office. But you did know better.

A man, who you presumed to be this doctor Miller character everyone was talking about, placed a syringe down on the table and gave you all inviting smiles. “Welcome!” he greeted you enthusiastically—and rather loudly, too. You winced at the sound, being painfully reminded of the incessant throbbing in your skull. “You both look rather terrible. Who should I focus on first?”

“Owen,” Mariah began in a soft voice. “If I may, maybe the woman? She took quite the beating.”

“Peter?” the doctor inquired, shaking his head and sighing when Mariah nodded. “That man has sent more patients my way than any scavenging trip accident has. I don't even know why your husband still keeps him around.”

Wait, husband? Liam was Mariah's husband? Then why was he treating her like that? Why was she so scared of him? A million different possibilities ran through your mind for the obvious fear the woman held towards her husband, and none of them were good. Daryl's ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes. He visibly shared the same confusion as you. However, the doctor's orders caught your attention.

“Mariah, is it really necessary to have their hands tied? I can see the irritation from here. Please remove their binds.” Doctor Miller stopped for a moment, regarding you and Daryl with a thoughtful look. “Sir, ma'am, speaking from experience, please don't try to run or attack once those binds are removed. Whenever there's a new addition, the walls are very guarded. You'll be shot instantly.”

Mariah gingerly removed the ropes from your arms and tried to remove Daryl's. However, your husband flinched back at the foreign touch, making the woman confused. You simply gently pushed her aside and moved over to him, starting to untie his binds. This time, Daryl stood still, and in no time at all, his hands were freed. He rubbed his wrists, the rope burns visible.

“Alright,” the doctor started. “Ma'am, please lay down on the bed. I'll tend to you shortly. Sir, you may take a seat on that chair next to the bed while you wait.”

You looked out of the window and weighed your options. However, the doctor wasn't lying; there were multiple guards patrolling the walls in the distance. There also were guards walking up to the makeshift medical building, most likely being sent to ensure you and Daryl didn't try anything.

You had no other option. You had to continue playing along.

You slowly walked over to the bed and laid down. Daryl hesitantly plopped himself down on the chair next to the bed, his eyes darting around the room. He was clearly trying to think of an escape plan, but he wasn't succeeding.

“Alright,” Doctor Miller began, walking out of the side room and rolling a machine out with him.

You instantly knew what that machine was. “No, doctor, you can't. No, don't—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Daryl stood up from the chair and glared at the doctor, his mind instantly assuming the worst at your reaction. “The hell is tha'?”

“Sir, please relax.” Mariah walked up to the side of the bed, grabbing a tube of some sort of gel from the drawer. “We have some new equipment we've been wanting to test out. We found this ultrasound machine yesterday. We just want to test it out and make sure it works.”

Your heart stopped beating. All at once, thoughts of your unborn baby flooded your mind. You couldn't believe that you had forgotten about the fact that you were pregnant. With everything that happened, your mind neglected to remind you of that pivotal fact. And now everyone was going to know, including your husband who you had yet to tell.

“Doc, I don't think that's a good idea,” you warned him, pleaded with him, but the man didn't listen.

“Nonsense. This'll be over before you know it. It won't hurt, I promise you.”

“Ma'am, can I lift your shirt?” Too frozen to answer her, you simply stared. Deciding for you, Mariah lifted your shirt a bit and opened the tube with the gel. “This might be a bit cold.”

The cold was the least of your worries. You had taken quite the beating. What if your baby was hurt? What if your baby was dead? What if the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat? All of those thoughts flooded your mind, so much so that you barely heard Daryl talking to the doctor.

“Why does she need'a do tha'? Can't some other chick do this?”

“I was going to ask someone to come in today to test it, but she's here now. Might as well get it out of the way.” Doctor Miller started with the exam, placing the object on your stomach and moving it around. At first, the screen didn't pick up a thing, and that made you want to cry. However, the steady thumping of a heartbeat could soon be heard, and a small figure appeared on the screen.

“Oh, wow. That's a strong heartbeat,” Doctor Owen Miller told you with a smile, the ultrasound depicting a growing baby. “Congratulations, you two.”

Your heart was attempting to jump out of your chest. It was amazing to you that the little blob on the screen would soon develop into a baby, your baby. You would pick out their name and scavenge for things for your little one, and you're sure Daryl would—

Oh, god. Daryl.

Slowly looking over to your left, you locked eyes with your husband. Instead of finding the love, affection and adoration that usually swam in his ocean coloured eyes, you found something else. You found anger, shock, worry, but above all else? You could see a renewed sense of determination in his eyes.

The archer was pissed at you for hiding your pregnancy and convincing him to let you wander beyond the walls, but he couldn't think about that. He had to get you to safety, away from these monsters. He had to keep you and your unborn baby safe.

The doctor should've heeded your warning. The doctor never should've insisted to take an ultrasound. Because of doctor Owen Miller, Daryl Dixon was determined. Daryl Dixon was going to tear that whole place apart, and anyone who dared to lay a finger on you would meet an agonizing end.

The people of Sunny Meadows were going to pay.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

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narcissarina · 8 months ago

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Distanceજ⁀➴

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍.

“Leon?” chat sent.

No messages, it was just delivered. Maybe he's busy.

—Chat sent a minute ago—

“Hey, love. It's me again, I wrote you a letter today and I plan on piling them up so when we finally closed the distance, I could give them to you!” chat sent.

Still no replies, your messages were on delivered but you are positive that he's in a mission. He did tell you beforehand, yet you insist on spamming his dm because it gives you comfort.

Looking back, still no reply. A mission does take a week or a month to finish but you couldn't help but worry and feel a little insecure without his assurance.

You were going to send him another message, “Hey Leon...” your finger froze and continue, “I miss you already, text me back okay?��

Chat sent

—Chat sent an hour ago—

Going hom to an empty house, to an empty phone and empty inbox—no response. It made you overthink, insecure and feel a painful ache in your chest, but writing your feelings down and saying your day to his dm does help, right?

“It's me again, everything just hurts, my love:(” chat sent

“Hey baby! I wrote 5 pages of letter for you, will pack a box for the things I write for you♡”

“Had a rough day from work, wish you were here nor we could call. I miss you so fucking much...”

“I wanna recall many memories with you, Leon. And yet, I couldn't recall the last time we kissed:(”

“baby, are you still there?”

“I miss you, sorry if I'm annoying.”

—Chats were sent 3 days ago—

Coming home from work as usual, leaving you extra tired, depressed and sad. Eyes were puffy from all the crying last night, still no messages from him. Must be hard for two souls bound to be in love with a distance between them.

“Baby, my heart aches, but I want you to know that I'm still longing for you, please be safe.” chat sent

You lump down on your bed, hot liquids starts to form at the back of your eyes as you cry out again. It was a tiring long day and Leon would be the first one hearing your whines and complains you tell about.

But you can't.

And you fell asleep, face down to your pillow and the plush (that looks like him) that he got for you on your side, as you suddenly awoke from your sleep. Phone vibrating as you choke a sob out, throat dry and eyes puffy.

You check your notifications, it was Leon.

Holding back your cries as you read his messages.

“Hey, princess. Sorry for responding so late. I appreciate you spamming my inbox, it made my day to see you speak about your day:)”

“don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'm here now, now what kind of stories will you be sharing hm?”

“I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you okay? I miss you too, baby. So fucking much that I'll lose my mind”

“my baby's very pretty and mine only, don't want your pretty little head be filled with those thoughts. I'm here and you can talk it out with me, what your feeling right now is completely valid:) I love you.”

“You're not annoying. I love you.”

Crying to his messages, no matter how late he is—you are glad that he is well and still the same man you fallen in love with, you read his text as he constantly assures you and replies to every messages you sent to him. Small things matter.

One message did caught you off guard, it was just sent two seconds ago: “open your door, baby. I'm here.”

You didn't believe that, he must be tired from being an agent but you try to humor him and went to your door—although you do feel a bit nervous, when was the last time you two saw each other? Six years ago, that's for sure.

Your door slowly creaks as you open it, eyes wide open and tears spilled out from your eyes as he was standing before you—bouquet of flowers in hand with your favorite chocolate and a big teddy bear beside him, “suprise, happy anniversary.” he spoke in a tired tone and lean down to kiss you and give you his gifts.

You cried, being a sobbing mess you were already are—you place his gifts nearby and jump into his arms, feeling his warmth and skin to yours.

He got inside your apartment, it was a mess and Leon lie down in your bed and you on top of him, refusing to let go. “My baby koala.” He chuckles and kisses your temple, you kept muttering your i love yous to him and spilling tears to his shirt.

“You can stop crying now.” he mutter, sitting up with you in his hand as he felt you clench your hands to his shirt—refusing to let go, you shake your head in response as you stick yourself like a glue to him.

He chuckles and let you have your way, staying like that for a few hours as he finally spoke, “I have a proposal.” he pauses, watching you twitch as your reaction, you hum to him and nuzzle closer.

“Let's live together from now on.”

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jovieinramshackle · 2 months ago

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ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠 ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠!

Hello there! My name is Harry (you can also call me Jo/Joey or other nicknames!) and welcome to my blog! I like drawing silly twst art of silly queers kissing each other.

☆ Harry/Jo ☆ He/Him ☆ Greek ☆ 17 (March 1st)

Carrd | Strawpage | Pronouns Page | Dividers

{My Hoard}

Tag Masterlist Fic Masterlist Self-ship Promo Mutuals List

{Ocs/Other}

OC Masterlist

{Special/Misc.}

Hot Cocoa Doddles 🍫☕️

(More TBA)

Colour my tree! 🎄

𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕘

DNI: PRO/COMSHIP (inc3sts/p3do ships), T3RFS, ZI0NITS, AI ART, L0LI/SH0TACON, BASIC DNI CRITERIA. I know not everyone will care about my DNI, so remember I regularly check the blogs of people who actively interact with my blog for safety. I block anyone who I think breaks my DNI list. NOTE: I consider myself a semi-practising Queer Christian (specifically Greek Orthodox). My faith is a very personal part of my life, so I won't be bringing it up much (feel free to block #faith yap for the rare times I'll be using it). Using any type of religion as an excuse for hate won't be tolerated. Similarly don't be dicks to others for their religion if they're genuinely non-bigoted.

☆ My blog focuses on general yume-shipping content (oc x canon/selfship). I especially focus on my oc x canon of my oc Jovie and Azul, but there are other ones too! Check my carrd for my ships chart (a few ships I haven't posted about may be in there). ☆ My blog is named after my OC, I don't use the name "Jovie." You can still just call me "Jo/Joey" if you have difficulty remembering names and only look at my user. ☆ I'm nonbinary transmasc, bisexual and aro-spec— as you can tell, I’m very queer. I enjoy implementing queer elements I relate to onto my ocs, especially when it comes to trans/non-cis ocs. ☆ I’m diagnosed with dyslexia and dysgraphia, I also may have undiagnosed ADHD. Please keep it in mind when interacting with me (and excuse awkward wording or misspellings)! ☆ Twisted Wonderland is very dear to me as a piece of media and I tend to be a bit sensitive with media I'm very attached to. So if you have criticisms about the game I would ask you to not mention them on my blog (that doesn't mean I don't agree, I just prefer to discuss things like that outside of my blog). ☆ This is an SFW blog, however, occasionally there may be a bit more suggestive art/posts of 20+ characters (specifically with Fellow/Ernesto because I'm down bad) so be aware of that. ☆ I’m VERY comfortable with friendly banter and teasing! Don’t be afraid to bully me into oblivion, especially if we’re mutuals (tone tags are appreciated). ☆ I'm an EN player, but this blog is not spoiler-free for JP updates. Any JP content will be tagged with #twst jp and #twst jp spoilers. ☆ I'm a bit selective with who I follow/follow back. But if you ask to be mutuals, I won't say no! Just please be sure you follow me already and that you’ve seen me interact with you/your posts before. I’m uncomfortable with people I haven’t seen a lot of asking me to be mutuals. ☆ For mutuals: Please keep in mind that I'm not great at keeping up with other blogs. However, I will still try to interact with you to the best of my abilities (similarly don't be afraid to interact with me AT ALL! I will be very happy if you do!). ☆ Dms are open! I pretty much never text first (kinda anxious about it) but I’m an extremely chill person and like to think I’m easy to talk to, so don't be afraid to message me! I would love to talk (keep in mind I’m a yapper). ☆ Inbox is always open, so feel free to send whatever, whenever (I may be quick or late to answer, but I will eventually)! ☆ Feel free to tag me in posts you think I'd like (especially of my faves)! Just don't tag spam me (unless I give you the go-ahead first). If we're mutuals feel free to add me to your tag lists (if you have one)! ☆ There may be some non-twst art, reblogs, or rambles if the mood strikes (will include matters related to trans/queer/Palestine topics but I’ll try to avoid other political talks here).

tag list (for me to copy paste lmao): @ramshacklerumble @thehollowwriter @summerspook @scint1llat3 @skriblee-ksk

@cyanide-latte @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @oya-oya-okay @viperbunnies @jadelover69

@twsted-void @lallopsyou (lmk/dm if you wanna be added)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst intro #blog intro #artists on tumblr #meet the artist #queer artist #small artist #digital artist #self shipper #yumeshipper #jovieinramshackle #harrysmessyhoard

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ohmygs-blog · 6 months ago

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hi my loves <3 warning for u as this will be a bit of a long post bahaha but hopefully it will help explain to u guys :) i haven’t been very active on this account, or my second account as a lot of u guys have noticed. i appreciate all of the different dms and inboxes checking in on me and i’ve missed u all !!! and i promise i’m okay !!!

ive been doing a lot of thinking in the past couples weeks and i 100% do not plan on leaving this account or my writing anytime soon.

honestly i don’t have the words to explain what i mean or have been feeling but ig the best way would be; i’ve been losing the excitement that comes with posting and writing on tumblr.

im not sure what changed and that's what majority of where the frustration i have is coming from. i don’t want to say ive outgrown this because i don’t think i have, its just the struggle of thinking of ideas and messages that match with the little personas ive created.

i’ve talked abt it before and taking inspo from the dreamies irl personalities i’ve tried to create my own personas of them and it’s important to me idk hahaha. what i’m getting at is ive become a bit of a perfectionist and if i don’t think an idea of mine matches w their character its discouraging if that makes sense idk???

instead of the excitement, ive honestly just been stressing myself out and finding anything i can to pick at and tear down. which leads towards more stress because i honestly love writing and seeing all of ur comments & messages and interacting with u guys and when i feel like i have nothing to offer i feel bad ahahah.

ANYWAY all this to say, that im not closing my account or leaving u lovely ppl behind. i have a couple drafts written and saved in my drafts so ill be posting them and working on requests when inspiration strikes !!!!

• ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ • ౨ৎ •

in the meantime if ur missing my writing (pls miss me bc ill miss u dearly), here's some of my other socials that i will be active on !!!!

pinterest !!! see what goes on in my brain, fic inspo boards, nct dream bf inspo & other boards :D

twitter !! @/ohmyyygodddd (idk what i’m going to do on my twitter lol but i’ve been waiting to make a 2nd account and i just made it today lol)

wattpad !!! fics below !! pls check them out i’m begging haha i’ve worked so hard on them and i’d love to share them w you guys :D

the alliance: wherein a group of friends can't get enough of their random internet feuds or taking down their enemies !

love department: wherein dani's friends are embarrassed over the lack of love (and boys) in her life and decide they need to help out.

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quackity1999 · 2 months ago

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# — THE MAILBOX is open for business. god do i need a fucking megaphone or something. HELLO?

this is a c!quackity ask blog :]

SEND ASKS! feel free to pester c!quackity thru asks— general questions, LN reports, dsmp lore refs, tomfoolery and such are encouraged.

i HEAVILY support spamming the inbox.

happy to answer both anons + characters (dsmp, ocs, multiverse: film, musicals, videogames, etc). if ur a reoccurring anon then grab an emoji !

#quackitychirps indicates quackity replies. #charlieposting indicates slime replies.

↓ IMPORTANT INFO UNDER CUT. ↓

[ hiii. i'm prophet! he/it/rez prns. biggest cquackity kin known to mankind. yes i am australian 😎😎 ]

rules: literally fucking none. go ham!!!!!!! just please no godmodding. i'll delete anything that goes too far. 18+ mentions are fine — i'll tag accordingly, but it won't be the main focus. sooo have fun go crazy ( admin is 21. keep that in mind thanks )

this blog functions on dialogue instead of written out paragraphs of literature.

IMPORTANT: i don't write any literate rp ( eg; *character sits down and does a thingy* etc etc ) unless it's preplanned in dms for an event. if i am sent starters or asks with literate rp they'll most likely be deleted.

sometimes i throw in a bit of action in brackets, but this is an ask blog first and foremost so i focus on dialogue to communicate action / location / etc.

and in order to keep my blog tidy i don't respond to reblog replies. threads tend to get real lengthy + clutter up things. so— please send another ask instead of reblogging with a reply :) thank you for understanding!

there will be occasional nsfw topics. anything indirect or at the very least suggestive goes into #vaguely 18+. anything explicit will be tagged with 18+ mention. proceed with discretion.

[ TAG SYSTEM: HERE ! pls check it out. ]

details about quackity :

+ las nevadas era, mainly. if there's specific asks that require a response from vice pres quackity or manburg era q, i can adjust to that: #viceqchirps !

+ he's an avian hybrid! he nests often (usually within an amethyst geode). quackity has a history of being mocked for his instincts and avian attributes, much thanks to a certain ex-husband :/

+ this bitch loves a good debate. motherfucker is a lawyer (sorta) so hit him up with a challenge every now and then. give him fun facts. Threaten him. ask whats going on in his life! throw in curveballs.

[ his chat / asks often show up as pop-up ads. ]

+ my portrayal is canon aligned! las nevadas is important as hell to him, so here's a post that explains in-character how quackity runs LN: HERE. so. yeah, we do business around here. and also torture dream for the revival book but that's not important /silly

+ on that note, i would prefer to avoid interaction with positive/good depictions of c!schlatt for this blog. no disrespect to those who do prefer that, i just personally want to uphold the importance of how schlatt's abuse informed a Lot of character development for quackity. same goes for dream— he's a villain, not a kicked puppy. thank you!

+ i violently swerve between serious interactions and utter hysteria in my replies to asks. its like a fucking lucky dip here 😎 also soz for all the links but it Does make it easier

+ shipping isn't a goal here, so attempts to woo quackity will not end in a romance plot. ofc there'll be some flirting, especially w / canon characters he's had past relations with (schlatt, wilbur, eret, karl, sapnap). i hc he's had a fling with technoblade at least once LMAO.

+ during las nevadas he has fortnightly gatherings with foolish. he wouldn't fuck a citizen, but he'd fuck a coworker! morals, what're those again?

overall i'm not looking to write romance plots due to c!quackity's view of love during the LN era. (he despises it.)

all anons welcome!!! ADMIN IS 21.

for art references:

my dude's got big big wings such as the first two. no other wings anywhere else though! white / blind in the eye that’s scarred. he got gold fangs to replace his upper canines; to replace the actual missing tooth from techno’s axe but also for congruence. it's also a mockery: piglins love gold.

PLENTY of gold jewelry. quackity focuses so much on his appearance, so— earrings! a brass knuckle made from the rings of schlatt, karl & sapnap. he will never use his own feathers for decoration, though. he's got some necklaces, ofc, no piercings. maaybe an eyebrow piercing but idk . debatable

usually wears a white silk shirt, regular suspenders, black pinstriped pants / slacks, deep red tie with gold intricate detailing & a gold clasp to keep it together in the middle. a fancy pocketwatch with the las nevadas star engraved on the front. his blue or puma beanie obvs! shoes are either dark red (near black) snakeskin or italian leather. steel toed for dropkicking drea—

[ PAST EVENTS: AVIAN PINNED. ]

#ooc: the prophet talks #delegation — LN TEXTBOOK.#ask blog #quackitychirps #charlieposting #rb encouraged!!!#askblog #quackity #c!quackity #dsmpblr #dsmp rp #dream smp #mcytblr #mcyt #roleplay #oc roleplay #oc rp #slimecicle #ok to rb

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milfzatannaz · 2 months ago

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hate to write this post but I’m going home tomorrow for the first time since my mother got physically abusive with me in August.

I’ve been kinda in denial all week bc I’m so stressed, I have five assignments due by Monday and I had a bit of a moment with my bestie that took a lot of mental energy. And I’m only going home to vote so I’m already stressed about the election.

but now it’s really sunk in that I’m going back home and sleeping in my bedroom for the first time since the night it happened, and the last time I slept in that bed I bought a bus ticket and cried myself to sleep out of fear and pure fucking anxiety.

I’ll be there until Wednesday so I don’t know guys. This blog will probably turn into a shitstorm for a few days. I might have an episode but I haven’t told my family I have them so I’ll probably cry alone in my room. I’ll try and keep graphic posts on a sideblog I have or leave things under a readmore if I need to. I’m just scared and my mother is going to want to talk about it and I don’t want to yet bc she blames me for the fight. anyway. I’m sitting here unable to do the homework I have bc now I’m reliving That Night and I’m not really doing well.

all I ask from yall is to be patient bc im def going to not be okay at some points in the next few days and maybe you’ll get random DMs. anyone is welcome to message me or leave funny shit in my inbox if you want, I’ll be checking messages so dw

#personal #killing myself dying etc

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 9 months ago

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Purchase Your Time (John Price x Escort!Reader)

Summary: Captain John Price ventures into unfamiliar territory by going on a blind date... with a sex worker.

AN: I've got a whole universe and timeline about these two in my head. But, instead of putting the pressure of writing a full-on series in chronological order, I want to have some more reader participation and write more of what you want to see!

If you want to suggest a scenario or a question about this universe, hit me up in my inbox or DMs and I'll write something in reply!

This is also an entry to the amazing @glitterypirateduck's writing challenge! I went for the "blind date" prompt with a twist.

Content warning: Sexual references, reader is a sex worker, so minors DNI/18+ only. 5k word count. Reader is gender neutral and no use of Y/N.

You could tell that your client was uneasy, despite the façade of seeming relaxed on his expression. The notches in his broad back beneath that suit jacket were taut like rope. Head on an axis, he was constantly checking the windows. You could see his eyes but no lower down his face as he did so, view blocked by the perspective of the booths. No doubt he’d spied your car by now and was waiting for you to step into the restaurant. Yet still you waited and watched from the seat of your car for anything else that would tip you off to what kind of man you were meeting for dinner. He scrubbed up well for a man wearing a basic navy suit. That photo he sent you – the selfie from an angle that was a classic indicator of a man who seldom opened the front camera – wasn’t a lie. He was very cute.

When you could no longer put off the date in favour of recon, you shot off a message to your friend to confirm your arrival and stepped out of your vehicle.

By the time you arrived at the podium where the hostess greeted you warmly, he was looking at you. Not quite staring, certainly not discourteous, he seemed more intrigued. There wasn’t much doubt as to why.

The hostess guided you over to the booth. Fun choice, since it would just be the two of you. He likely wanted to ensure no one would eavesdrop or be spotted by someone he knew. Many of your clients were the exact same.

“John Price?” You inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” He was already scooting towards the end of the cushioned seat – something else your clients didn’t consider. There was no graceful way to enter and exit a booth.

Once he was on his feet, you offered your hand to him and your name. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Worn and warm skin enclosed your hand, and immediately you noted the lack of a wedding ring. So he was either single or had the peace of mind to remove it prior to your meeting. Your brief handshake allowed you to take in the uncommon style of his facial hair, his close-lipped smile, the crinkles by his eyes that you could now tell were blue, and it all added to a beautiful portrait of a man you would be happy to entertain. Not that you were shallow enough to deny a potential client based on looks, but you were certainly enjoying the benefits of this man being a delight to look at.

“Can I get you anything?” John asked, looking once between yourself and the waitress who’d guided you to the table.

Ice cubes in his own drink were shrinking into the amber swirls of the crystal tumbler. You gave her your own order before you tucked yourself beside him, enough distance that you could reach out and touch his bicep in an act of reassurance should he need it. By the time you were comfortable, the appropriate time for the wait-staff to be out of earshot had elapsed, and you began your lackadaisical interrogation.

“How are you?”

“I’m well, yes. Thank you. Yourself?”

“Can’t complain.” Your hands folded on your lap as you twisted to face him a bit more openly,“So, the purpose of us meeting today is to see if this is something you want to pursue with me, if we suit each other. Nothing is going to happen today, and not until we’re both certain that this arrangement is going to be beneficial. I take it this is your first time doing something like this.”

Already, you’d made him smile. Not out of nerves, he’d shown no usual signs as such. It wasn’t with a hunger that couldn’t be sated by anything on the menu. No, this man was feeling some relief, the corners of his mouth creasing and quickly disappearing. You hoped it wasn’t triggered by some kind of saviour complex, preparing to get you out of “this lifestyle” – you’d find out sooner or later if so.

“Am I that easy to read?” John asked before sipping his drink.

“Perhaps. Am I right?”

“You are,” He admitted, though it wasn’t a self-conscious confession, “This is… completely new to me.”

“That’s why I like to discuss our options first. It irons out any wrinkles, soothes any first-time nerves. Plus you seem like the kind of man who can appreciate being as prepared as possible.”

“I take pride in it.” Ah, a large hint of his perceived worth.

Your drink arrived at the table, your fingertips delicately leaving prints in the condensation of the glass. As you turned back to John after thanking the waitress, you caught him staring at your thighs. You pretended you hadn’t so as not to dissuade him. This allowed him to collect his own drink and raise it close to you.

You both gave cheers to your meeting, glasses tapping together in a clear single note that sang until your lips pursed against the rim.

“Tell me about yourself then, John.”

In that deep gravel his register rested in, John spoke about the unpredictability of his work-life. Nothing in actual detail was given about what he did, but you gathered it was high intensity, high risk, high reward. Regardless of the wall of cement he was putting up with his vague details, the pride in his work showed through. You stored up all this knowledge to note down on revision cards later. Just a little something so that you could remember what was important to your potential client.

The third time it happened, you decided to track how often he touched his Windsor knot, and it didn’t take long to figure out that it wasn’t a tell of his lying. Otherwise, he would’ve told you more details - fabricated. Clearly, this man’s occupation was not a CEO of any kind; he worked without a suit (enough to not be used to it) and without visible security guards to check your pockets.

“Why don’t you take that off?” You extended your hand to touch the space on the table between you two, “It seems to be bothering you. I want you comfortable, John.”

As if he’d been waiting for permission, John Price ripped off the tie (it wasn’t a clip on) and stuffed it in his suit pocket, undoing his top button for good measure.

“Not the biggest fan of them, if I’m honest.” Double whammy: he’d confirmed your theory and revealed a few dark hairs on his chest in one go.

“I like honesty,” You replied. That seemed to spark something in his eyes.

“I can’t always be completely honest. My job doesn’t allow for it, or value it, mind.”

“I could tell.”

“But I will be transparent – as much as I can be – about when I’ll be away, how long that’ll be for. I think that’s only fair to you.”

You agreed just as your waitress returned to take your food order. Thank God John didn’t try to order for you. As per your own personal guidelines, you let him go first, matching your order with the price of his own. While passing over the menu, he asked about you with the self-deprecating comment that you were probably sick of hearing about him. You gave your standard issue reassurance before meeting him with similar defences that he would likely recognise: very little given away in terms of personal details but all reliable information that would help.

Concluding your latest hobby – an acceptable one for small talk - you asked. “What do you like to do with your downtime then?”

John blinked at you twice, “I watch football.”

“What team?”

“Liverpool. You?”

“Never played, never watched.”

“Well, I’m going to have to do something about that,” and he smiled.

At last, he was cracking jokes. You basked in the joy of getting him to loosen up – a challenge, unlike some men who came out the gate, blasting misogynistic quips. At least that came with the favour of being about to ditch their company as soon as you were safe to do so. This was not the case with John, despite the several times now you’d spied him catching glimpses at your legs.

Another surprise arrived just after your food was served. You’d planned to begin edging towards the real reason most of your clients contacted you in the first place. However, John beat you to the punch after you’d shared the typical services you offered.

“And you’d be willing to…” He seemed to struggle with his words, though he could blame it on a tough bit of the steak if he wanted to.

You didn’t give him the easy way out, offering instead a raised eyebrow you’re your glass, “Yes?”

Realising you were gonna make him say it, John put on a sheepish smile, laughing at his own awkwardness before asking with a little more confidence, “Have sex?”

“If that’s something you wanted. Is it?”

His Adam’s apple gulped down a morsel from his fork – which remained poised in place the moment his lips touched the silver tines. There was a smouldering confidence hiding behind his eyes. You thought about why he might pretend to be nervous and act as such when he realised you caught him.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested.”

This is key to your vetting process. If your professionalism wasn’t reflected back by the potential client, too lost in their horny desperate disposition to consider boundaries, then they were struck from your list and forwarded to your friends so they could avoid them too. Handsome ones tended to throw the biggest tantrums over this. They wielded their wealth or insisted you not “spoil” the mood with talks of hard limits.

You maintained your composure, and, now that he’d gotten over that first hurdle of awkwardness, John resumed his own. You could tell, by the way his pupils blew out and his lips parted, he was definitely hooked. Naturally, you didn’t feel his polished shoe creeping closer to yours though. He’d never come across as that kind of man. Keeping you at that distance with his walls up meant discussing your hard limits and no-go’s was less awkward than it had been for other potential clients. Still, you sought to knock him off his balance again to see what he might do.

“Is it mainly sex that you’re seeking?” You asked as casually as you always did.

John’s head jerked to face you head on in mild but abject shock, “No. No, it’s not.”

“It’s ok if you are,” You said, still smiling calmingly.

Waiting for his reply, you watched John hover his drink in front of his lips before the last droplets slid down his throat.

Swallowing again, John gave his reasoning, “As I’m sure you’ve gathered, my job makes it difficult to maintain a relationship. I’m not able to… provide stability or consistency a lot of the time.”

Nodding sympathetically, you said, “I can imagine.”

“Also, there are… certain measures I’d want you to take for when we meet that aren’t really attractive to anyone, let alone a long-term partner.”

“That must be difficult for you.” You slipped your hand over his that was planted firmly on the table, feeling it tense then slack beneath your touch. Easily, you could empathise with the fact that he wanted to replicate the kind of life he couldn’t have. “Tell me about these measures. I’ve a few of my own.”

“You don’t tell anyone my name. You need to make sure you’re not being followed. If you are, tell me. Do you have your own driver?”

“It was a cab today.”

“I’d like to order your cars from now on.”

“Awfully protective of me already.”

Your blithe smile cut off at John’s reply, “Those are my terms and they’re necessary if I’m going to be using your services.”

There was not an inch of room in that statement for a joke. If you were naïve, you’d say he was taking this too seriously. But the balance you’d found within John and the tidbits of his life that he’d laid out for you sounded the alarm that these precautions might just keep you alive. Your job was also a precarious one; adding another layer on top of it might be beyond your comfort levels.

Then John asked you, with the same earnestness, “What about your safety measures?”

His question checked a hidden box in your head.

“Mine is that I’m available to be in contact with a colleague at all times. They’ll check in regularly to keep me safe when we’re together. I’ll tell them where and when we’re meeting and for how long.”

John nodded along, mirroring your body language as you leant just a little closer and continued:

“I also have a policy on mandatory aftercare for myself and my clients - so you. If this is going to work, we need to take care of each other and that courtesy extends until we’ve parted ways.”

“I understand.”

“And do you accept them?”

“I do,” and John lowered his voice a tad more as he implored for your answer “Do you accept mine?”

Your thumb rubbed over the hairs on the back of his hand once more before releasing him, “I do. I’ll add your terms to our contract and we can discuss any further details once it’s drafted.”

John raised his eyebrows, “Contract?”

“Of course,” You said, a hint of coyness slipping into the professionality, “Get it in writing, make it official and keep us both protected.”

“So that means you’d let me see you again?” The corner of John’s mouth betrayed him as it struggled not to smile.

“I would, John, I really would.”

With that decided, the pair of you clinked your newly topped-up drinks together.

Though you both decided against pudding, you stayed for another half an hour after your plates were cleared and escorted back to the kitchen. Of course John paid the bill too, left a tip, helped you into your coat and all, whilst you ordered a new cab to take you home – you insisted. John may want precautions.

“I’ll send you my details tonight so that we can arrange to get the contract drawn up and signed. Then the ball’s in your park to arrange our next meeting,” You adjusted your coat collar before cupping his elbow innocuously. “Thank you for dinner, John.”

“Thank you for meeting me,” He said

“My pleasure.” And, just as you were about to close the door, you added, “Look forward to hearing from you.”

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

While he did get back to you within the minute you sent across your further details, and even faster in drawing up and signing your contract , it would take John Price a month to request an official meeting.

“I’d like to book us a room and spend some time together.” That was what his newest message said.

Perhaps he’d been taken away by that busy, busy schedule. Perhaps he was just shy. Despite being able to read his surface level emotions, you found the man was like a safe inside a vault inside a sealed bunker when texting you. It was when you got this text that you realised everything you’d learnt on your date was likely a deliberate choice from John. Rehearsed and ready, just like you.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” You replied.

Unlike his previous messages, John took some time to respond with quite a short message: “Yes please.”

“Any requests for what you’d like me to wear?” You asked once he’d sent you the date and location.

You managed to complete a swift clean of your kitchen and make yourself a drink by the time you received your next text.

“Something that makes you feel good.”

Not a common request.

Even so, on the night of, you took extensive measures of preparation. Your outfit, to the untrained eye (so men), would seem like you’d just thrown on an outfit and effortlessly looked ethereal – and it was still something you picked based on what you thought John would like. Trousers and shirt cuddled your skin, neatly ironed even though it was likely to end up creased on a bedroom floor within the next hour.

He had sent two cars to pick you up and an encrypted, preplanned journey. One vehicle dropped you off at a random location that was noted with a giant red pin on the map; the second scooped you up precisely four minutes later. Nothing new, you’d been a mistress before and that came with similar routines.

A key was awaiting for you at the front desk once you had been delivered and the code word was shared.

You had the decency to knock three times before you slid the key card into the slot. Despite that minimal warning, the door jerked open with John at the handle.

“Hi,” He said. Hair damp and sticking up at the back like he’d used his hands instead of a brush to collect it into some order, he’d clearly just finished trimming his beard – based on the occasional trimming on his white t-shirt. Jogging bottoms hid his lower half.

“Hello,” You smiled.

John looked you in the eye, then adjusted his gaze to look down at your outfit. Perhaps he didn’t like that you had hidden your legs beneath flared trouser because he stepped aside quickly and held the door for you to enter.

It was a cosy suite, boasting a quiet immodest comfort. Poncy art still hung on the walls, and it had all the hallmarks of a usual hotel room – little kettle, stack of teabags and coffee – were hidden behind a sliding cabinet door. You saw a duffel bag poking out the entrance of the wardrobe. Hanging above it across the railing were several dry cleaning bags. Had he even gone to his home yet?

“How’ve you been, John?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Well, thank you.” And you dropped your overstay bag beside his.

Followed your agreement to the letter, handing you a wad of cash that he didn’t mind you counting upfront. The total sum left you expecting this would probably be an eventful evening and you tucked it into your coat pocket for safe keeping.

“What would you like to do, John?” You pulled off your coat to hang it up.

When you returned to face him, you found John unable to break away from looking at your waistband, specifically the side of your shirt that you’d made the conscious choice to leave untucked. Whatever, you’d seen it somewhere and it looked good on the model so you tried it. The doubt that it just made you look a bit lazy left your head as John pinched the hem of it, his thumb rubbing the material.

“Could you…” John sighed as soon as he paused. His voice was still that low and sustained register. You wondered what he might sound like while you were taking care of him.

He’d said, when adding the fine print to your contract, that he was ok with you initiating touch. So, you were a tad surprised (though you hid it well) when he seemed unnerved at your hand finding purchase over his heart, fingers tracing over a large fold line in the fabric, that had been ironed in from a nap presumably – he seemed the type to know how to fold a shirt properly.

Your voice dropped to a hushed timbre, as if you were letting him in on some workplace gossip around the water cooler, enticing him to join you in this little game, “You can tell me, John. What do you want to do?”

How John’s eyelids twitched, you could tell it was working. A moth to a flame, you drew him in, but you saw how John’s frustration brewed in his tight jaw over how his words didn’t seem to want to climb out of his mouth. The first hurdle was always the toughest; once he got over this embarrassment, he’d be fine. You just had to coax him a little further, lead him closer to the water until he took the initiative to drink it.

Measured breathing took hold of his body again and he looked you directly in the eye, “Could you hold me? In the bed, please?”

“Of course,” You said in the same calming tone, taking his hands in yours to give a reassuring squeeze. This allowed him, spurred him perhaps, to lead you over to the Queen-sized bed, where the only blemish in its immaculate sheets was a dip on the edge that you could picture John taking up as he waited for you to arrive.

When you leant in that same spot he had and began to take off your shoes, John reached his hand out as if to stop your hand. It hovered for a split second before gesturing at you.

“Clothes stay on. Please,” He said in the same voice.

Both times he’d asked you for something, his manners seemed like an after-thought. You were reminded that his job likely meant he wasn’t used to having to be polite. Though it was the bare minimum, you appreciated it nonetheless. That confidence you’d spotted him hiding last time wasn’t unfounded. Here, it just was clearer that he found himself floundering and being uncomfortable with the very fact that he wasn’t able to sail smoothly through this interaction. You reminded yourself that he had wanted something akin to a romantic relationship, but you didn’t expect him to struggle with it this much. You’d have to be a lot more merciful with him then.

With your shoes off, but socks still on, you knelt in the centre of the shockingly plush mattress and reached out for him. Your coy smile warmed him up, his own sheepish one growing as he took your hands again. Balancing carefully, you pivoted your legs out from under you and lay back in the mountain of pillows. Your descent encouraged John to follow you, tuck himself up into you, rest his head atop your chest as you curved your arms to accommodate his giant frame. The instant he finally ceased fidgeting, you heard – and felt through the thread of your shirt – John taking a deep breath right where your collarbones kissed. The tension down his spine started to slouch its way out. You made a mental note to wear this scent around him more.

“Do you want to watch anything?” he asked, already holding the remote control.

“I’m not fussed,” You replied. It emerged as a half-whisper.

“I don’t know any of these, d’you?”

“All a bit rubbish, to be honest. Just gotta find you your type of rubbish.”

“Don’t have the energy right now, love. What’s your type of rubbish?”

You let him flick through the categories, none of these sparking hope. At last, the cursor landed on a safe option, a no-man’s-land of a TV show.

“There, that’ll do,” You said, pointing and wagging your hand over when John accidentally skipped past it, “It’s not mind-blowing, but it passes the time.”

“Good enough for me.”

And it was for you too. Quite a nice paycheck, all things considered. Not once did John’s hands stray down your body; one arm was tucked into his front between the two of you and the other crossed over your chest. Your shirt creased where his cheek pressed against your chest. He was like a heated, weighted blanket that smelt incredible and would occasionally make scathing commentary on the programme, making you chuckle. Among his other noises, he let out grunts of approval whenever your nails scratched up where his skull met his neck. The third was a little snore he let out whilst dozing – a few snorts pushing out his nose until he either woke himself back up or disappeared into deeper sleep. You yourself fell victim to the Sandman shortly after, but not before texting your friend that you were safe and sound with your burly customer as good as a lamb.

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

Beneath a throw blanket, you woke up at half past seven. There was no doubt in your mind that John had been awake for some time; he was sitting up beside you, pretending to watch the TV still, wearing the same clothes but evidently a lot less groggy than you were.

“Good morning, I wanted to order breakfast,” He indicated the menu he was reading, “Didn’t know what you wanted though. Didn’t wanna wake you either.”

Your elbow propped you up to say, “That’s so sweet of you.”

Clearly not used to a flattering remark, John turned his attention back to the screen with rosy cheeks, the menu held out to you, “Let me know what you want.”

How ironic, for a man who dictated the entire scenario but was still unable to confess outside of a legal setting that he wanted to fuck you, to ask you if how you’d like your eggs. Eggs you would not be ordering because of the awful breath it would give you.

You pushed up to sit beside him against the scarlet cushioned headboard. A few stretches resulted in a satisfied groan against the clicks of your back and you handed back the menu with your order.

Just like last night, John seemed to have trouble getting out his requests, which you interpreted as him wanting to ask you to shower with him. Instead, he offered it to you first, which you graciously accepted.

In your reflection, an imprint of a button winked faintly at you from your chest, right where John had rested his head. You touched over the impression before you set your shower up for a quick scrub. Yet you lingered in the stall for a few minutes longer, the water pressure and temperature pacifying the stiffness in your back.

Steam rolled out like fog over a lake when you opened the shower door. A complimentary robe transitioned you from your towel and kept you cosy as you began massaging lotion into your face, skin staying soothed in the circle you cleared of condensation in the mirror.

A chill reached your shoulder blades as John let himself into the bathroom, still in his clothes from yesterday.

“Breakfast will be here in about ten minutes,” He perched on the toilet seat.

“Thank you.” Continuing to make odd faces to ensure your lotion reached every pore, you took note of the intrigue with which he observed your routine.

You offered your hand out, two fingers wielding a healthy dollop of face cream. “Want some?”

Price looked down at it, instinctively leaning back an inch to decline, “No, thank you. You’re alright.”

You didn’t push it – his freckled skin seemed fine without your products – so you just let him watch you from his spot in the steam. In the reflection, you caught him smiling wistfully at you, though never initiating eye contact. Having gone off assumptions of contentedness when you cuddled him last night, you were glad that you could actually see John smile again.

Still, that wall, for your “safety” as he’d phrased it, was up.John sprang for the polite rapping at the door and was blocking you from the view of the visitor with both doors plus his own body. From that alone, he was clearly capable of taking charge in any situation. So why not this one? Why was he so obviously nervous when he’d been able to hide it in the restaurant? You wanted to find out. You wanted to break that wall down to see his reasons why.

Maybe next time you were together, once this routine became a little closer to his comfort zone, he’d be a bit more alright with asking for more.

As you exited the bathroom, you caught John and found him guilty of reorganising the trays, removing all signs of hotel logos from the plated food. Maybe it was to aid the pretence that he’d made you breakfast, an attempt to add to the domesticity of this rendezvous. Maybe he was just picky. Regardless, he met your eye with no shame of being found out.

You made use of the tiny iron (why did hotels always have such tiny irons?) to neaten up your clothes whilst tactfully ignoring the packet of condoms poking out of John’s bag. He must’ve noticed you noticing them however; he carefully nudged them deeper into his bag whilst retrieving a clean jumper.

His desires from your dinner still ringing in your ears, you tested the waters again and pointed to the smallest of creases at the cuff of the jumper, “Want me to press it quickly?”

For a split second, John looked at you with pupils blown and a firm grip on his clothing. Then he scoffed light-heartedly, “You’re not my maid.”

“I know. I’m offering.”

Though his smirk twisted into an appreciative smile, John still denied your request and disappeared to change in the bathroom. Yet his choice still quietly confirmed how your new client would veer more towards the domestic clauses in your contract.

Based on his reactions over the past twelve hours, you deduced he was not quite at the stage where you do his coat buttons up for him or adjust his beanie. You’d get there eventually. But he did let you do the little zip up on his jumper when it came time to part ways.

“I had a lot of fun, John.”

“You don’t have to lie just because I’m paying you,” He said, in such an earnest way that you knew instantly he wasn’t saying it to fish for compliments. Still, that underlying insult stung you.

Not wanting to let this become a habit, you forced him to face your stare with a hand on his cheek to keep him locked in place, “Do you really think I’m lying to you, just because you’ve given me money?”

How he observed you, his eyes travelling along where bones and tissue connected, over the valleys of blood vessels and stretch marks, you felt a slight chill. John was not scanning you to total your physical worth to him but genuinely deciding based on your behaviours, body language, if you were lying. Your morbidly curious mind leaned into the darkness of what might happen if he landed on a false conclusion and how often he came to those.

Remaining to be seen, John shook his head once, “No.”

“So, don’t be rude. I enjoy your company and it’d be a shame to ruin that with your assumptions,” You said, playfully whilst hoping he inferred your warning.

An exhale through the nose, John’s shoulders shrugged his body with a warm smile, “Sorry.”

“I forgive you.” Again, you spoke with a teasing tone over the layer of seriousness. It persisted as you wondered if he’d like a kiss goodbye. He was still letting you thumb over where his dimples were hiding from the daylight. If he wanted a kiss, would he want one on the cheek? The lips? The corner of his mouth to hide and save for his greatest adventure?

Not even the J.M. Barrie connection could soften your disbelief (which you really should’ve been adjusted to with this slow-release enigma of a man). John who opened up about wanting sex and more was the same man who wouldn’t even initiate a kiss. So your hand slipped down from his face and squeezed on his bicep instead, a tip at the end of your bill as you absorbed the strength he was capable of. John’s already straight posture adjusted underneath your gesture.

“See you again soon?” You prompted as you let go of him.

John confirmed, “I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

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