#i have some access to the work i need to do even if its not always feasible

[solidcarbondioxide]

I'd like to point out that even for "tech savvy" people, technology is becoming more and more inaccessible. Trying to navigate all the pre-installed bloatware to find what's necessary and what isn't is becoming nigh impossible for the average person, and googling it doesn't always help.

My laptop from 2016 died and I needed a new one. Tell me why of the 1TB of storage it has, about 150GB were taken up upon first start-up? And when you open control panel [which, not everyone even knows what that is anymore] to delete the bloatware, it doesn't show anything that takes up that much space.

Knowing how to make a clean install of windows isn't something most people know how to do, and even people who are at least slightly technologically aware, might be wary of messing with Windows for warranty/Windows key reasons or what not. The more predatory technology becomes, the more difficult it becomes even for people who try to stay on top of it. "Yeah, I can look up how to do it, and understand what it says, but there are so many ways it could go wrong, and I can't afford another device" is an absolutely valid fear, and if even someone who does know what the tech lingo means is unwilling to mess with it, how can the average user?

[No, I don't want to hear how it's easy because you can do it through an ISO, or because it's only the first install that can't be clean and afterwards the key is bound to your Microsoft account. The average, kinda-sorta-maybe tech literate person won't touch that because tech is expensive and not everyone can try it out on an old laptop that doesn't work anymore to make sure they know wtf they're doing. So they'll remove what they can, sigh, and live with the rest.]

My dad's laptop recently threw a BIOS error and loaded up with the requirement for a BitLocker key. His laptop, in fact, most peoples laptops, have no need for that kind of security, and most people won't know that their computer has it activated until it throws an error. If the error hadn't occurred while I was there, there is no way in hell he could have figured out how to find the key, because he wasn't even aware this key exists. I wasn't even aware my laptop had BitLocker activated until his showed that error, because its either not mentioned anywhere, or hidden in the multi-page agreements that you need to accept before being allowed access to "your" device.

And guess what? If this reaches anyone, somewhere out there is someone who considers themselves "tech savvy", who has just found out their new device has BitLocker activated, and they're trying to figure out how to find the BitLocker key because no one told them this exists or that they may want to know how to find it. (Go to aka.ms/myrecoverykey, sign in to the Microsoft account linked to the device, look for the key that corresponds to the first 8 letters/numbers of the Recovery key ID on the device)

And if you followed one of those helpful guides on how to force a local account onto your lovely new win11 device? I hope you also went and found a lovely guide on how to find your BitLocker key/how to de-encrypt your device, cuz guess what? You see that blue screen and your files are gone. (Well, there are ways around it but again, they're not exactly the easiest of methods, definitely not something the average user could manage)

Sure, it's a safety feature, but it's unnecessary for most and should be an opt-in, not a "find out when shit hits the fan"

The more predatory technology becomes, the harder it becomes to be technologically literate.

I was lucky, my first proper device was a Windows 7 that required some tech literacy but was for the most part user friendly, I didn't love the switch to Windows 10 because it became harder to to find the more complex settings, but I learned most of my tech skills on it, moving to Windows 11 and seeing the "simplified, user friendly, easy setup" interface that makes accessing things harder and actively hides settings from the user? It still grates my nerves. I still have issues with the audio settings of all things because for some stupid reason apps set to 0 still produce noise and the slider moves up by 1-5 points automatically. I've pinned the windows 10 volume mixer to my windows 11 devices task bar because I cannot tolerate the windows 11 one and its bs.

Technology becoming "user friendly and easy to navigate" has, in a lot of cases, actually made it harder to understand. I did not get taught what I know about technology at school. I learnt it on my own, because I grew up with tech that still allowed it.

Yes, schools should still be teaching the basics of technology, but at some point we need to realise that technology has become much more inaccessible too.

And that's only the software side of things. Why does all of my laptops RAM come soldered now? Why does opening my device up to clean it void the warranty? Why does the number of ports keep decreasing?

Anyway, this has gotten longer than I wanted, so I'm going to say this one more time and end it there.

Technology has become easier to use on the surface and harder to understand beyond that. Users are being kept away from "settings they may not understand", and it makes it significantly harder to learn as a result.

Me: oh yeah, if you think school photography is hard now, try imagining doing this with film.

The new girl: what's film?

Me: ... film. Like... film that goes in a film camera.

New girl: what's that mean?

Me: ... before cameras were digital.

New girl: how did you do it before digital?

Me:... with film? I haven't had enough coffee for this conversation

[shmowder]

okay I'm starting to understand The Focus and the Kains' supposed immortality a bit better now.

Their concept of immortality is built upon the belief that you are not you, but your memories. Every person is not their body, is not their mind, is not even their DNA.

What you are, is a collection of memories, of life experiences, of ideas, beliefs, and observations.

You are, especially, other people's memories of you. That's the stuff your soul is made out of.

You know the saying, even if someone dies, at least they'll always live on in your memories. The Kains took that literally

Imagine with me that we took all of these things about you, and suspended them in air.

In modern terms: copied them on a hard disk and stored them for safe keeping. Then when you eventually drop dead, we simply take that hard disk and slot it into an appropriate device—a biological human body. Just like a virus, you'll begin taking over that person and overwriting their being.

"The Focus" is the storage place. The hard disk itself. It's called that because you *focus* memories inside of it. The Polyhedron and Crucible are just oversized SD cards.

You Focus on your own memories of who you are, your own experiences, and they etch themselves into the wall. Likewise, other people can focus on their memories of you to help shape the stored version of you better. Since we're all different people depending on who's perceiving us, we need many perspectives; you're a different you with your mother than you are with your dog, etc.

But can any random human body do?

No. It heavily depends on the type of memories you stored, and the way in which you stored them. Much like your phone is unable to read a floppy disk.

Georgiy Kain describes a soul not as a phantom manifestation of the person, but more akin to music. Each soul is a melody. Some are a piano solo, other's a whole orchestra. The more complex and deceivingly subtle the melody is—the more life experiences and memories—the harder it will be to replicate and play.

Because they have no feasible way to access the music sheets of the melody that is your soul, they can only hope to reverse engineer it through repeated listening, studies, and educated guesses.

Orchestras require various specific musical instruments to work. To replicate a person's soul—which we have established is their memories—successfully, you'll need an appropriate instrument of a physical body.

So no, not just any human body would do. Much like a Clair de Lune is horrendous on a ukulele.

The Focus places don't just suspend the memories—the soul—in time, but play them as well. At all times. That melody must be actively played. The orchestra requirements of a specific instruments extends to the Focus as well, not just the hosting human body. The SD card must have its own RAM, CPU, cooling, and Motherboard. While a Graphics card hasn't been implemented in a Focus yet.

Artemy talking to a visible Isidor in P2 is actually just the abattoir acting as an accidental Focus with an implemented GPU; meaning the kin succeed in building what the Stamatins failed, In this essay I WILL

Ignore that forget it back to topic :)

Which is why not just any place can be a Focus, why the Polyhedron succeed where the Cathedral failed. This detail enables the Kains to talk to their "dead" relatives whose souls are in purgatory.

Why Maria can talk to Nina and Simon through sleep, why Victor can hear Nina at all times, why Georgiy can consult Simon.

I'm not sure why their abilities to contact the souls encased in the Focus varies in conditions—why can Nina speak through Victor to the player, but Maria has to sleep or journal to talk to her?—maybe it has something to do with who's the biggest contributor to the memory of the person; Victor knew Nina longer and better than Maira, Georgiy knew Simon longer and better than both of them.

Their immortality is not physical immortality, but that of the legacy and memories. As to why Simon was immune to all diseases and sickness, I think it's correlated to how your very own immune system has its own memory, if it learns how to defend against a sickness once, it will always be able to overcome it. It saves the instructions in its own database and makes copies of the white blood cells that previously worked the last time the sickness came knocking on its door. So by virtue of having a varied immune system database, Simon seems immune to all colds and sick throats.

He probably isn't even the original Simon; They're supposed to be twins yet Georgiy is 77 and the other is 200+ years old. So it could be that Simon was recalled from the Focus into the body of whoever Georgiy's twin was.

Think of it this way: there is a far away kingdom where apples are forbidden by issue of the king and queen. Maybe the prince is deathly allergic to it, maybe it's a religion thing, or maybe they just really really dislike apple pies.

But the people really love apples, in fact they believe life isn't worth living without apples.

So they pool their money and hire a bunch of scientists to find a solution around the issue. The scientists can't bring apples into the kingdom, so they look at another round fruit instead, oranges.

They take an orange, selectively breed it and chemically treat it until it tastes just like an apple!

But the people aren't satisfied, sure it tastes like an apple but it doesn't smell like an apple. It doesn't look like an apple, and its texture is not that of an apple.

So the scientists go back to the lab, they try again, with a pear this time around.

They selectively breed it into a round apple-like shape, they inject apple flavouring into it, and they dye its skin the most shiny red.

In fact, it looks so much like an apple post-treatment, that their test groups could never differentiate between it and the real thing. The people are rejoiced! Their apples are back!

And the king and queen can't find a fault in this loophole, and these new apples don't trigger the allergy reaction in their son, so they allow it!

An apple, is whatever other people's memories of an apple is.

This pear acts, looks, tastes, and smells exactly like how other people expect an apple to, then It might as well be an apple.

If a person walks, talks, behaves, and looks exactly like how other people expect Simon to, then it might as well be Simon Kain.

And that's how you fool death and become an Immortal.

You make a copy of yourself which will live, a version of you suspended in time that you'll update every single day by going into your own Focus. And when the time comes, you take a pear, and alter it into an apple. But it must be a pear, the closest relative to apples, otherwise you'll get an orange, that while tastes like an apple, makes the nastiest texture in apple pies.

[savage-rhi]

🫂

[thydungeongal]

So this is a bit too deep of a topic to really get into in one brief message, but I think you've got the right idea but there's some nuance to this. First of all, it's good to remember that in D&D (I'm using 5th edition as an example here because it is the most current edition and this idea is more or less true regardless of edition) the flow of play is character does a thing -> appropriate roll or check is called for if needed -> results are narrated. As such, in your example of the character searching a drawer there's a lot of room for arbitration as to whether a check is needed at all, and I would personally be inclined to say that if it's something not actively hidden that is being looked for then the character finds it. Now, if say the drawer were to have a false bottom that is something that a character can, theoretically, discover in more than one way, based on how willing the DM is to arbitrate it. "My character looks closely at the drawer to see if its internal dimensions match its external dimensions" would probably merit an answer without a roll, "My character tries to push one end of the bottom of the drawer to see if it's loose" would probably reveal the existence of a false bottom without a roll, but a general "My character tries to see if there's something hidden in the drawer" would probably merit a roll. In those two first cases the player described their character doing a thing and it was a thing that would sensibly return an immediate response without issue, so the DM just said "yeah that thing happens."

Now with the example of Charisma rolls there is of course a lot of nuance, but the general principle applies, but I think what's good to remember than in modern editions of D&D Charisma checks are not a replacement for saying things, but they are a thing that triggers from characters saying things and that are used to adjudicate how those things are received. I would personally say that the accessibility feature isn't the check itself: the accessibility feature is also built into D&D in the fact that the game accepts detached third person narration from players as a valid way of narrating what their character does. Even the player who speaks with a funny voice and makes a cool speech needs to make a check, but their narration adds more fun and color to the action. It is possible for the check to be triggered with a simple "Bepis asks the guards to let him pass by appealing to his sense of urgency" (which could trigger a Persuasion, Intimidation, or Deception check depending on the circumstances).

This does mean that if a character says the exact right thing then they do the thing and it succeeds, but I think "player performs an impassioned speech in their character's voice" may not be the best comparison. The impassioned speech is one of the things that might trigger a check, in my opinion. The "it just works" solution in my opinion would be "the character presents very strong leverage in this situation." (Of course some people would argue that leverage is a thing that a character needs in order to make a check in the first place: this is not a settled debate, and if you read @imsobadatnicknames2's post that I linked there you can see that he also considers investigation and perception checks to not really lead to satisfactory gameplay in the context of D&D, and I kind of agree with him.)

But at the end of the day, it's good to remember that even if the characters do fail, either because the players rolled badly or because they did the wrong thing, that's okay. Momentary failures are part of these games. The important thing from a DM point of view, whether it's presenting a scenario where there's something hidden to be found or a potential negotiation to be had, is that you don't plan your adventure in such a way that it ultimately hinges on those things. Which leads to the broader point of this post of mine: D&D allows for a lot of player expression and characterization in dungeon exploration and combat and dangerous situations, but it has very little to offer in scenarios that hinge on investigation and persuasion. As such, from a DM's point of view, in D&D you don't generally want to plan content in such a way that failing at finding a thing or persuading a guy presents a roadblock, because those situations are ones where D&D provides so little room for player expression and characterization that it's not going to result in interesting gameplay. Like, I would personally just say "embrace dungeon crawling, dungeon crawling kicks ass," but even setting that aside: even if you're running one of those modern D&D types of game that's more about heroics and such, you will cause yourself and your players unnecessary headaches by building scenarios that demand approaches that D&D as a game is not built to handle.

I hope this makes at least some sense.

Imagine I appended this to @imsobadatnicknames2 very good post, it's a very good post but since I was going to make a very silly riff on it I didn't want it to be there to detract from it.

Imagine you, as a player, want to play a funny character. Sadly, you're the unfunniest person alive and can't tell a joke to save your life, Derek, so you won't exactly be able to make your friends laugh around the table. So you make your character, Bepis Horndongle, a really funny gnome with maximum ranks in Perform (comedy). Then when the situation demands it you can say "Bepis tells a joke to lighten the mood," and you ask the GM to be able to roll Perform (comedy), and after seeing the result of your roll you can be confident in the fact that the joke Bepis told was really funny.

However there's an issue: someone else in the group has brought in Goblin Steve. Goblin Steve is amazing, everyone loves that guy. And his player is also effortlessly funny. You could say that she's very smart and attractive and good at video games too. But regardless, whenever Goblin Steve says his famous catchphrase "Check it out, guys, I'm Goblin Steve" everyone at the table erupts in laughter. This feels unfair. Goblin Steve shouldn't be funny, he doesn't even have any ranks in Perform (comedy). Bepis is getting completely sidelined by Goblin Steve.

Now, here's a few questions:

Is there an actual issue here? If so, what is the issue?

If there is an issue here, is it one that is worth trying to solve with game design?

The example given heavily implies that this is a game of fantasy dungeon-crawling. With that in mind, is this really an issue? Could Derek maybe chill the fuck out and accept that Bepis will never be as funny as Goblin Steve?

[pepprs]

genuinely so angry and scared im shaking. how many other times this week this month this year have i been exposed without knowing it. do people even tell each other anymore. it’s just so grim. it’s so fucking grim

[omarwolaeth]

Thinking about how souls canonically do exist in universe, and how that might correlate to seeing different people as one in the same, all because their souls are identical (pieces of a whole)

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[29121996]

.

[caraecethrae]

I need to buckle down and figure out what my personal understanding of Ceirt/Cert is.

it's fascinating how it seems to have these two diametrically opposing possible meanings (not unlike nGétal), one being tied to coir and right judgment and kingship, which actually fits apple extremely well folklorically, and one connected to madness, misfortune, sacrifice, and illness, which fit both potential etymologies of either Rag or Bush.

it seemed clear to me in the past that the secondary meaning had to be original, especially given my/the bias against the crannogham, but it's still very frustratingly simple that the current Modern Irish meaning is Rightness.

perhaps the meaning of the word shifted to match the evolving understanding of the fid, given the medieval love for the arboreal and more recentness of the Immrama? of course that's a reach but ...

[icarus-suraki]

I don't like wading into Ao3 debates, but I want to give my professional opinion on Ao3 with regard to archives vs. libraries.

I am a professional librarian (MSLS) and I have worked in both archives and public libraries and a lot of the confusion and concern I see surrounding Ao3 is a fundamental misunderstanding of How Archives Work.

An archive is a collection related to a subject. That subject is often a person but sometimes a field or concept or project. And the purpose of an archive is to keep everything. And I mean everything. I was going to say "short of biohazards" but since I know there's a sealed R. Crumb Devil Gal chocolate bar in the UNC Chapel Hill archives, we really do mean everything.

When a collection of materials--which are usually unique and original and can be photos, manuscripts, letters, recordings (audio and/or visual), notes and notebooks, objects, published books, whatever--on and/or from the subject arrive at the archive, they are examined, preserved for longevity, accessioned and cataloged (added to the archive's records), and added to the archive. You measure collections in linear feet. As in, once it's all preserved and boxed and secure, you note how many feet of shelf space it takes up. And some of y'all on Ao3 have a lot of linear feet to your name (and I'm proud of you).

This is an archive: it is designed to preserve the original materials related to a subject. That is its purpose. Archives are how we have the original scroll manuscript of On the Road, for example, or the Lomax recordings of American folksongs, or Tijuana Bibles, or James Joyce's loveletters to Nora.

Now you, a member of the public, can access some archives. Some are easier to access than others. The one I worked in was open to the public; good luck getting into the British Archives without a good reason.

So now apply this to Ao3--which is an archive both in name and in purpose. It is intended to preserve fan-created content long term. And this means everything, whether you personally like the materials or not. It is a repository for as much as possible.

And the "whether you personally like the materials or not" is important, hence why I mentioned Jim's loveletters and Tijuana Bibles in particular. (RIP Jim, you would have loved pegging.)

If it's made by fans and it exists, we should keep it to document the history and progression of fandom. That is the point. We have lost enough materials related to the subject of fans of media and we don't need to lose any more.

The fact of the matter is that Ao3 is only one facet of the OTW, which preserves other fan-related materials (convention booklets and zines, for example). Somehow Ao3, an archive on the subject of fanfiction, has been divorced from the rest of the project, mostly by way of "purity culture" and panic over "dangerous" fiction.

The fact that you can go through an archive and find interesting information is the other side of archives. No, they shouldn't be like the banker's box of old letters stuffed in my closet. Yes, they should be organized and as accessible as is appropriate for the state of the materials.

It's really, really cool to find stuff in an archive, I'm not even going to lie. I have done it before and I will do it again. And yet there are other items in an archive that I might not want or need or be interested in at all--but they're still there. That's the cataloging and accessioning: to keep up with what's there, to stay "on topic" with collecting, and to be able to find things in that archive. Bless the tag wranglers who are doing the cataloging at Ao3.

The pearl clutching seems to come from 1. the creation of "dangerous" fanworks and 2. public access to those "dangerous" fanworks. These are issues of "purity culture" and opinions on censorship and should not involve Ao3.

Ao3, under the umbrella of the OTW, is a documentation and preservation project first and foremost.

[puppygirlclick]

Disabled Trans Women Still Need Help

Making a new post because the old one is losing traction

You might remember my girlfriend's and I's earlier post where we explained our situation, things have gotten better... and worse. I finally have health insurance and we're trying to work out the situation with my federal taxes, but we still have no way to make our own money or save any money that's been sent to us. Just about all of what you graciously provided us had to go towards our car note as my parents can't cover it, and now that our car is the only transportation for the entire household its more important than ever that we can keep it. Since we can't save anything we're no closer to moving out and have had to move into a worn down shed in the backyard. Until we can figure out some way to keep our car note and other expenses that might come up paid we need all the help we can get, anything helps even $1.

C*sh*pp $StSeeSee (@stcecilia’s account) Accessible again P*yp*l @"schrodingersbird" (also Cicis's without quotes, someone on here has that username) Ask for V*nmo (Not listing here because of my deadname)

DO NOT TAG

[vampire-connoisseur]

...

WELP, i honestly believe that for most people, the most valuable aspects of duo were teaching you what does and doesnt work for your brain and offering (poor) courses in languages with fewer available resources ANYWAY!

DUO IS FRICKING DEAD GUYS

rip duo-

fricking crap.. omg nooo

[arolesbianism]

The sadness and agony that emerges everytime I start a new oni save and am forced to remember what it's like to have a dupe without a hat only to put them in a hat because I think they'd look cute only to remember hats make half of them look bald but I spent this long maxing out a skill for them so Im too stubborn to back down and remove the hat

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[potchi-fics]

tw; amab cait, overstimulation

      being the commander’s wife has its perks; seeing caitlyn’s vulnerable side, for instance—that is probably your favourite amongst your special privileges. that and also the fact that she worships the ground your heel walks on.

you have her wrapped around your finger, she will drop anything she’s doing the moment you utter out her name.

you knock on the door to her office, hearing her muffled voice say ‘come in’ and you do. you open it to see her eyes staring daggers into her paperwork, shoulders clearly tense, and her one hand rubbing the nail of her thumb using her index and middle finger, a habit she’s developed when under stress. you lock the door.

“you haven’t eaten, have you?” you cross your arms, rolling your eyes even, “how many times have i told you to eat on time, cait? up you go, i had them prepare us a meal.”

caitlyn massages the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes, the lights from her office hurting her tired eyes, “darling, i’ve still got a little paperwork left. i will be done in twenty minutes.” you raise an eyebrow. “ten minutes.” you refuse to budge. “okay, let’s eat but first, can you come here, please?”

      how can you refuse when she’s giving you the puppy eyes? you saunter over to her desk, walking around it so that you’re standing right in front of her. her shoulder sags at your close proximity, standing up and letting herself drape over your body.

you love it when she’s like this, all clingy and needy. she wraps her arms around your waist, shoving her face into the side of your neck, inhaling the scent that she adores—vanilla and lavender.

yours circled around her neck, staying completely still for her. her breath fans over your neck, quickly transitioning into soft pecks and kisses, leading to you giving her more access.

“i’ve missed you, darling,” her kisses proceed to the other side, “missed you so much.”

      your eyes shut as she continues to plant kisses on you, turning into open wet-mouthed some time ago, you haven’t noticed. she leaves one last kiss before burying her head into your neck again but you need to kiss her.

you pull away, and the way her eyes fill with sadness immediately makes you pull her back in—your lips colliding harshly, teeth clashing, a low moan leaving you. 

her hands go lower and they settle themselves under your thigh, lifting you and seating you on her desk: work be damned.

with a swipe over your lower lip, you open your mouth slightly to let her tongue in. caitlyn is famished: she’s licking every part of your mouth, sucking your tongue, you almost think she’s shoving her tongue down your throat. she holds your jaw, forcing you to take her violent kisses.

you try to get a word in, “i’ve missed you mor–”

      she is impatient, and so are you.

your fingers fumble with her belt, blindly undoing it and pulling it down enough to slip your hand in. her half-hardening dick is straining against her boxers, making you giggle in the kiss. you palm her and she hisses at the contact.

you swallow her groans as you massage her cock, distracting her from kissing you. you feel her pull away but a grip on her hair stops her from doing so. a whisper of ‘please’ urged you to touch her finally. 

you truly did miss her and her. caitlyn’s hips buckled towards you once you gripped the base of her cock, taking it out and you look down to see her tip already leaking her precum. 

you grin at caitlyn however she avoids your stare, hiding her head on your shoulder, embarrassment coating her face. your thumb swipes the head, and your smile widens at her reaction. who would’ve thought that the commander could swear like a sailor. you tease her by doing that continuously—oh, that is torture for the poor commander; her tip is sensitive. and one noise from you almost made you cum, she whined.

caitlyn kiramman, leader of house kiramman, a decorated officer: a commander. whined. 

your eyes shut, you can’t handle the noises coming from your wife. it turns you on so goddamn much. the neck kisses from earlier were enough to make you wet, but this? her hips buckling to chase your touch after every swipe? her whining on your shoulder to do something, it’s riling you up. 

you push her back, and the back of her knees hits her chair and makes her sit down. the sight before you made you wish you could take a picture right about now: her gaze dazed, panting lightly, her pants and boxers pulled down so that her tip was poking out.

“darling, please.” there she goes again. “i need you.”

      your composure breaks. you struggle to get out of your pants and undergarments but you do, pulling it down to your midthighs and getting off the table to face away from caitlyn. hands on your hips pull you down, gripping them that’ll leave bruises tomorrow morning. she pulls your underwear aside, her tip kissing your clit.

you take matters into your own hands and lead her right into you, your hand disappearing underneath—gasping when that familiar head breaks through. caitlyn growls lowly before pushing down roughly, your back arching at the sudden intrusion.

“g-gentle now,” you feel so good. you feel everything, you feel how she twitches, feel every vein. you feel how she faintly buckles her hips up. you slowly lift yourself,  “good boy.”

she can’t help but harshly pull you back down, your hand shoots up to cover your mouth because she is hitting you just right. “i need you, darling. i need you. i’ve missed you.”

      she stands up, along with you, her needy cock moving inside of you. you brace yourself on her desk, one hand still on your mouth and the other on the table. she uses her grip on your hips as leverage, using it to push and pull you, your cunt greedily welcoming her.

the tip of her cock is hitting your favourite spot, making you mewl in delight at the sensation, muffled moans and whimpers vibrating in the back of your throat, accompanying caitlyn’s own groans.

your cunt clenches around her and her pace wavers. she pushes you down, your breasts on top of her work, and you feel her lean down before continuing on bruising your cunt. 

“shit,” caitlyn whispers on the back of your neck, kissing your nape, “missed you so much. you have no idea, darling.”

      an unexpected pressure on your pussy makes you yelp—she managed to sneak a hand down, rubbing your puffy clit in a slow circle. the contrast of her thrusts and rubs results in you having a sudden orgasm. your eyes close shut, your toes curling in pleasure, ears ringing, and you accidentally, unconsciously, hit the things on her desk, hearing them clatter on the ground.

caitlyn whines at the feeling of you squeezing you, “fuck,” she goes back up, her hands returning to your hips, and resumes her thrusts—this time, aggressively. 

“i just c-came,” your sore throat succeeded in letting out, your hand pushing back against her abdomen. 

      she doesn’t hear you. she’s focused on the ring that’s forming around her dick, thickening as she continues to pound into your pussy. she gets off on this: you two fucking in her office, you bent over on her desk, ruining her progress, she doesn’t care. 

all she cares about is you taking her cock, all she cares about is you turning into a mess; a blabbering mindfucked mess. and you are. you’re letting out the most sinful and ungodly noises, your sensitive cunt, as well. she grits her teeth, she can feel herself about to cum, and the scene of your legs shaking, you trying to slow her down by putting your palm on her abdomen, is enough to make her cum. 

she cums with a whine, it’s too much for her. she leans down to bite at your shoulder, her cock spurting in think squirts. her cum is warm, hot enough to spread throughout your body and that’s enough for you to cum again. 

you’ve lost your voice so all you can do is hide your face in your forearm, trying your best to not scream. 

“darling,” caitlyn gasps out, dumbstruck by you’re squeezing cunt, “you’re m-milking me.”

      she stops cumming after a few seconds. she pulls out slowly, loving the way you cling to her. she falls back to her seat, admiring her work. still panting, you push yourself up with difficulty, the overstimulation still running.

“the food’s gone cold now, honey.”

[nemesyaaa]

sweet babyface // toxic!bbydaddy!rafe x reader

summary ; rafe was decided to make your little one, a kook princess. and if it means to spend a million of dollars on a diamond swarovski tiara just to see it on the head of his daughter, you can be sure he's gonna do it.

warnings ; basically fluff but i would add +18 bc of a little bit of suggestive content but not real smut. mention of breeding kink. kind of toxic relationship. a bit of stalking. financial dependence. be aware of the warnings.

author's note ; i just wanted to mention @princessbrunette for the bbydaddy!rafe verse. you can check it on her account <3

even if you tried every time to keep him away, push him away, avoid him or chase him, rafe always came back. you could be cold, distant, suspicious and even cruel, he didn't care. by the way, he was better than you at that game anyway? it wasn’t for nothing that you always lost trying to fight him. he was winning while you were just exhausting yourself out. sometimes you wonder why you let him into your life, why you thought it would be a good idea to have a baby with him when everyone on the island told you he was unstable and uncontrollable. some even laughed at your situation, saying it was like giving something to the devil and hoping he doesn't use it against you.

you couldn't say rafe was a bad father. your daughter had always been outrageously spoiled. he always gave her the biggest and greatest gifts. nothing was ever good enough for his princess. he always thought big when it came to his baby. even if you were a pogue, he wanted to raise her as a fucking kook.

and sometimes you wondered if he did all this out of pure fatherly love or out of narcissism or ego.even if you hated him so much, he absolutely needed to make sure your child was on his side. every time he was there, it was like you no longer existed. the house was full of "dad," "daddy, “ or “ papa, " and babbling and laughing. it was always his name, she never called you. and you always felt a pang in your heart every time he grabbed her in his big veiny arms, making her the happiest little girl before taking her away from you to go on some weekly trips.

even when he was not at home, it was always with the toys he gave her that she played, the dresses he gave her that she wore, the hairstyles that he validated by facetime that she asked you to make, the meals he delivered that she wanted to eat. she was truly daddy’s girl. even in her facial features.

so no matter how much you tried to ignore him, he was still there somehow . through the demands of your daughter, the hundreds of deliveries a day to your door, the objects in this house and even its walls because he was obviously the one who paid for it.

you didn't need to work. you had access to all his cards. at first you spent tons of money on unnecessary expenses hoping it would drive him crazy but the next day you saw that even more money had been added to the bank account.

but rafe cameron didn't give you access to his banking data out of pure kindness and affection alone. he was also looking for a way to control you, and stay in your life. then, with that, he could also stalk you and do inappropriate things like when you bought lingerie and he received the bill. he couldn't stop himself from sending you a message. “don't want to see me, but you dress yourself like you want me to give you a second baby ;) ”

the only rule was that you were forbidden from going to see another man and even less from inviting him to the house. he manipulated you by saying it was for your daughter's mental balance but it was purely out of jealousy. and you knew it very well. you weren't the stupid naive girl he had gaslighted in the past and who he could lie to so easily anymore.

one day, you were giving your kid the extremely expensive cupcakes rafe had bought for her breakfast, trying not to comment on the ridiculousness of the prices but especially the situation, and there was a knock at the door. when you saw through the blinder that it was him, you stepped back discreetly, swallowing hard to not clench. your heart was beating fast in your ribcage as you were trying to silence your stepfoots.

“I know you're here.” you had heard his loud firm raspy voice through the door. “baby, i can hear you breathing and backing up from here. come on, i thought we both get over the time i scared you. ”

he continued to knock on the door until your old neighbor called you claiming that a crazy madman was in front of your house and didn't want to leave.

you had been forced to open up to him which made you even angrier.

but that didn’t stop him from smiling at you, the insatiable white colgate smile. his clean and fresh mullet was long enough that hair brushed the back of his neck. he was wearing one of his perfect black suits with the sleeves rolled up to show a glimpse of his nice shirt. a Rolex was tight around his veiny wrist, and the same rings he always wore were wrapped around his fingers.

he had his ear pierced recently with your daughter. you had been against it, but she still wanted to do like her father so you had no authority over the sweet monster. but you had to admit that the jewelry suited them both so well. especially on rafe, you couldn't help but think about kissing his ear, but especially biting his earlobe while caressing the silver piercing until it's wet and rolling against your tongue. all this perhaps while thinking of having a baby again.

“I should be allowed to come here whenever I want. " he had sworn under his breath, staring at you with his evil blue eyes.

“tell me what you have to say or I’ll call the police.” you replied shortly.

"I want to see my girl. I mean, the one who likes to call me daddy. "

“It’s not funny and she doesn’t want to…”

you hadn't had time to finish speaking before your babyface's little footsteps were running on the floor to come into the hall.

“daddy! " she exclaimed before being carried off the ground to snuggle into her father's strong arms, her little frame being hidden by the size of his biceps.

“that's my little girl.” he welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek, making her chuckle.

"I missed you! please, stay !" your kid had asked with bubbly face and pleading eyes, her childish pout so irresistible to say no.

“of course, I’m staying.”

“raf…” you started but he ignored you, walking in the house without your permission into the living room.

“I have something for you, peaches. ”

he took a present out of his bag and you rolled your eyes. you already knew it was going to be something crazy like the giant dollhouse he built in her bedroom, or the huge dinette in the playroom, or a scary tall comfort teddy bear that she couldn't even carry in her tiny hands. sometimes you wondered what he could offer to her because she already had everything. he had literally built her a heaven.

your daughter's eyes widened in surprise, while a smile floated across her lips in excitement. she opened the gift and took out a silver tiara set with diamonds and stunning crystals signed by Swarovski.

“she’s a baby, rafe…” you commented.

"no, she's a princess. " he corrected you and fixed your little one's hair before putting the tiara on her head, and placing a smack on her forehead. “ don't you see that kook babyface ? ”

she giggled before wrapping her hands around his neck to thank him.

“we need to talk.” you said.

"later. i have a princess to honor for now."

you wanted to fight back and kill him but you couldn't resist your daughter's face. she was happy to be with her father. and you knew it was important for girls to establish a strong bond with their father. and there was this bright spark that shone in her eyes every time she saw him that made you melt.

so you let him stay at home. he stayed with her all day. she managed to make him do whatever she wanted, and that's how he found himself playing with dolls, watching the princess and the frog, doing karaoke to barbie songs, serving as a client for a makeup session, and judging all of her princess dresses while she was making him a haul.

No matter how angry you were that he showed up like that and decided to stay, you couldn't deny the fact that he was damn good, that in the moment, you couldn't find any reason not to like him, even when he caught you spying on them and sent you a smirk to remember that you had no control.

you had decided to do some cleaning, to leave them both for a bit until the end of the day. after a long moment, rafe decided to leave her alone for a bit.

you were downstairs, and you were making food. he raised an eyebrow when he saw you. “don’t forget me.”

“no I’m sorry, I’m cooking for two and you’re not included in it.”

“I was included in this pussy to make you a baby so you can include me in this meal for one night, baby. ‘s nothing. ” he shouted back, chewing some gum arrogantly.

“don’t be trashy.”

"you used to like this..." he carefully said, because he knew he was treading on sensitive ground.

he stood in front of you, picking a taste of the ranch sauce from the bowl before putting it in his mouth. you watched him do it, glaring at the smile on his so fucking evil lickable lips.

“ taste's good. ”

“I want you to leave. “

"We should ask every part of your body if they're okay with this. Maybe it would put you back into your place to feel betrayed by your own self. "

“You’re not good for her.” you confessed.

“I am her father. And from what i know, she's very happy with me. You're the one to have a problem with my presence here. ”

"Please, leave the house. I don't want to call the police."

“exactly, baby.” he moved to stand behind you, rearranging a strand of your hair, his breath hot on the back of your neck. “you don’t want to do it. And you're not forced to do it…” he caressed your hand, slowly putting the knife away from your fingers.

“Step back.”

"I want to stay here tonight. Just this night. She really wants me to stay and would it be cruel to make her sad? You don't want to be the villain, right ? "

“don’t try to manipulate me.”

" mmh, just telling the truth and it makes you mad. you can hate me if you want but she needs me. i'm her dad and you know if I wanted to, I could make her come with me but I love seeing you together. you're a great mom.”

"you will sleep on the couch. and that is non-negotiable. you don't try anything with me, is that okay?"

“Come on, we can sleep together. We are mature and consenting adults.” he replied. "There's nothing I haven't seen before, baby. I know all that lingerie as well as that body hidden behind it."

“about that, stop stalking my bills.”

"Mine , baby. you mean, my bills. these are my cards that you use for your pleasures so I have the right to have an eye on them. even more so when I receive bills for sex toys. you should call me instead of handling it? yourself.”

"After trying them, I'm not sure that you're big enough now. “

jesus, you knew how to provoke him and it worked. he had sniffed the air loudly, trying to contain himself because honestly, he only wanted one thing at the moment, a strong urge that was to fuck you dirty on that counter until he was sure to see your hole tearing to death and dripping to get his cock in. jesus, yeah, he would give anything to see you grimace because it will never fit in but prove you wrong by giving you a second baby.

his jaw was tense and his nostrils were flared. he was forced to clench his fist to avoid touching you. " the day when your babygirl will want a little sister or brother, you better be begging on all fours on my fucking doorstep to convince me to give you another baby. so better to start now and stretch that hole very hard before it's happening because i'm gonna make sure to be breeding you enough to change your whole dna. ”

“ aren't you tired of thr…”

“mom, dad, what are you talking about?” the little girl burst into the kitchen, still with her tiara on her head. a smile appeared when she saw that her dad was still there. because it was rare for him to stay that late.

you warned rafe with your eyes, slashing violently at pieces of vegetables with the knife back in your hand.

“ we were thinking that i could stay tonight. what's your thoughts on this, little one ? want daddy to stay ? ”

“ yes ! i don't want you to leave. stay foreveeeer with me. ”

“ but you know, he can't. he's a businessman. ” you replied.

“ what do you mean, baby ? my only business is right here. ”

” Rafe. ” you said.

“ Baby ? ” he replied with a cocky smile. “ Why don't you tell us what you're cooking ? Seems delicious. Maybe we could get a taste. ”

“ Sweetie, can you go to your room for a second ? I need to talk with your dad. It's not gonna be long. ”

She pouted but agreed after Rafe promised her something if she was listening to her mom.

“you know you can’t stay. "

"All I know is that there is my name in the papers of this house, on your bills, and even on your documents. If I can't stay, you can't escape. So what's better ? ”