#so often nice people are not good people. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

infimace-blog · 2 days ago

Note

Keep coming back to this and thinking about the asker's perception of the Weatherlight Saga, because it's definitely not free of 'identity first' storytelling.

Tahngarth's entire plotline revolves around his identity as a minotaur, a racial characteristic in Dominaria. He's forced to question whether he's still himself, still a minotaur after Phyrexia captures and disfigures him, and the payoff for that is that a minotaur tribe starts decorating themselves after his new, distorted form when he helps rescue them from Phyrexia later on. So, you know, having identity issues during a apocalypse, like having a gender crisis during a Bolas invasion.

Mirri was discriminated against for having heterochromia, forcing her to leave her birth family. The desire to belong weighs on her so much that one of her big choices is whether to abandon her best friend and secret love for another tribe of catpeople who do respect her. It's less of a factor in her story than her doomed love for Gerrard, but, frankly, her willingness to get herself killed over a nice white boy for whom she was third-place (after Hanna and Rofellos) makes a lot more sense if if you take abandonment and isolation issues into account.

Maybe the asker didn't notice because these identity issues were put on the non-human side characters. But, you know, they were still there. They're some of my favorite parts of the Weatherlight Saga to talk about, besides the competition to become evincar and Urza's bizarre behavior. And while this happened with funny animal people, the structure is analogous to things the anti-woke crowd would hate. Tahngarth's identity issues are reminiscent of those of black people living in largely white societies. And there's a lot of people under the 'DEI' banner who've had to deal with getting kicked out of their home for being born wrong, often queer or disabled or neuroatypical people.

This is how you give characters good storylines, especially with Magic's limited ability to get the story in front of people who just play the cards. You find an aspect of themselves that they care deeply about, something fairly obvious and easy to communicate, and see how the external world impacts that. And we're still seeing that now. Chandra's putting herself through death-defying adventure in Aetherdrift because it might help her lover, and her love for her is a major part of her identity. Tone's certainly different than the lovelorn motivations of Mirri or Gerrard or Ertai over the course of the Weatherlight Saga, but it's the same building blocks.

I think more of that kind of characterization would have been beneficial for Sisay, honestly. I can't speak for Mark or Michael, but I've never really been interested in her because most of her story is about what she does rather than who she is. Gerrard bores me for similar reasons; I find it difficult to get a read on his personality besides 'heroic' and 'white savior'. It strikes me that the two greatest heroes of that era were raised and, in one case, born from Jamuraa, Dominaria's stand-in for Africa, but that never really comes up in the saga. Gerrard's background exists to give him an evil black stepbrother and the most important part of Sisay's is growing up owning the Weatherlight - I generally forget that she even fought in the Mirage Wars.

So yeah, I think anyone on the same page as the guy who asked this is not interested in getting good stories out of Magic. I'm regularly unimpressed by Magic's story output over the past decade, but I can't tolerate anybody who thinks the answer to that is 'make the characters less interesting. Shave their identities down'.

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

#mtg #the weatherlight saga

3K notes · View notes

megapteraurelia · 2 days ago

Text

kuroo tetsurou and you did not have lots of interactions, usually.

so you were more than surprised when he turned to you during chemistry class and looked at you through the tuft of black hair falling into his eyes and let out a string of words that seemingly made no sense to you. his gaze cast away, a certain air of embarrassment hanging in the air when you didn’t answer, and he turned away, mumbling to himself.

“wait, did you just compare me to acid?”

“no, not acid— more like…the reaction is just so explosive, like us— i mean, just us as in people, or like—” he breathed out carefully, and then shook his head at himself, laughter stealing itself to his voice as he rubbed his jaw, “never mind. i already fucked it up.”

now, you were not the brightest person in this world, but you could smell a butchered pick up line from a mile away. and the way kuroo tetsurou rested his chin on the inside of his hand, fingers covering his temple, effectively shielding his face from you, with the faintest of pink covering his ears, told you just how secretly embarrassed he was.

kuroo was cute, you thought.

it didn’t take a miracle for you to come to the conclusion, especially not when you were used to hearing his loud voice boom through the class during the breaks. he was the one trying to keep some class-visiting friends in line, naturally assuming the leading role to hush them down, blissfully unaware at the same amount of loud energy he was returning. he also didn’t escape you when he tried coaxing his blonde friend to eat more, offering to share his food only to try to bait him into taking it instead, when he got rejected.

you didn’t interact often, but kuroo tetsurou’s presence was hard to miss and the tiny flutter of your heart in response to noticing him hard to ignore.

“so,” you leaned a little over to him, and subconsciously, he had already started to accommodate you, lowering his head to catch your voice, “if you had to guess and we were, say, a chemical compound, would we be stable or unstable?”

his eyes lit up, a sly little look overtaking the embarrassment despite the little blush on his cheeks, and you could see his mouth curving up into a little grin, entirely too comfortable to walk the line between smooth-talking and sounding like the biggest nerd you had the fortunate luck of sharing seats with, “good question. we’d probably be unstable.”

oh.

you already felt your blood rushing to cover your skin in an embarrassed hue of red because you thought you were slick with that one. unstable? humiliating— but then he continued talking.

“but in a good way, you know? like, when two elements are drawn together, even if it’s turbulent. a little bit of controlled chaos makes things exciting, right?”

he looked at you with what was supposed to be a lazy smirk, though it wobbled with slight nervosity. one finger of his tried to brush away his fringe of hair, but the black strands fell back onto his face almost effortlessly. he really was cute, and for a split second you wondered the type of kisser he would be.

“so, like sodium and water?”

“okay, hold,” he held up a hand, trying to keep his expression in check (and failing to do so), “maybe not that exciting. that’s a little too dangerous, though it’s nice to know you like me that much.”

you nudged his shoulder away from you at the cheesiness, body straightening up again and an eye roll escaped you though you were anything but annoyed. if anything, you were a little charmed by the cowlicked hair, his eyes trained on you and the slight smile that didn’t know whether it should make fun of you or flirt with you.

maybe he could do both.

you then decided to just try your luck because there was no way he tried to actually flirt with you using chemistry if he wasn’t at least the least bit interested, right?

“yeah, yeah. maybe you should teach me some of that.”

he stared for a little while, silent and stumped (because it worked? holy—), though when he turned back to look back to the front of the class, you noticed the small, secret movement of him fist pumping the air and the stifled smile threatening to overtake his features.

(after class, you definitely didn’t overhear kuroo tetsurou whisper-yelling that you didn’t deny liking him, only for him to act all cool about it in the same minute.

as if it was only natural for it to happen, he kept flexing his arms and striking ridiculous poses at the prospect that you supposedly were only one hair width away from being wooed by him.

his blonde-haired friend did not seem impressed. at all.)

#i rlly jus wanted to write nerdy loser kuroo #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq x you

173 notes · View notes

stupid-autistic-rat · 2 days ago

Text

Answering these cuz' i' m bored :'] ( I MISS MY WIFEEE RJFMNED )

Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Therianthropy ! 🐾

What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

I am a Mexican wolf , at least I think that' s my breed , not too sure

Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

I do , I just realised how they fly right by my head tho T-T my most common one would prolly be mental shifts. I haven' t had many cameo shifts , only a few times where I felt more fox like or different breeds of my kind

How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Uhhh i' m not too aware of that tbh , I just kinda do what I do. Just a wolf in the world. Ig it kinda affects me when I make decisions or state my opinion which is usually noticeably different from human opinions or decisions.

What do you think of the community?

Everyone is really nice and awesome !! 💪 working on a server rn so we can all interact :P

What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Not too sure , just kinda chilling in my den makes me feel good. Idk how to explain how I feel too much. Maybe gear would make me feel more euphoric but I don' t need too much to prove to myself who I am. COMFORTABILITY tho I label differently. Meeting others like me makes me more comfortable since i' m around humans 24/7 ( idm but sometimes I just need to be around my kind ) . I also don' t like being forced to do a lot of human things or eat like them so meat and berries keep me more comfortable , but my parents buy a lot of shitty meat :/

Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

Not really tbh , I just kinda am chilling as a wolf stuck in some human body , I don' t give much thought about it , I' m just me

What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

Hmmm .. ig just don' t let others get in your head , people who don' t understand what you experience often shit on it cuz' they don' t have the knowledge to understand it. I' ve noticed that in people. You ARE who you are , and you feel things for a REASON. Good luck my goat

Do you have/want to have gears?

I actually would like gears , these masks look super awesome. I' m gonna collect materials to make one. I just need to draw out what I want. I would also like a tail just for comfortability and claws to help me better. Human nails SUCK.

Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

Not too sure. Pretty much was born like this ig , nothing really influenced it. Unless you mean signs or stuff from childhood. I was always super interested in my kind and interacting with related kind ( like dogs ) , and felt perfectly comfortable just existing as one of my kind , which other kids would just believe I was playing "" pretend "" , which I didn' t understand much about cuz' i' m autistic. Never changed , even as I continued to get older.

Uhhh ty for reading >:P

These were fun to answer , I LOVE QUESTIONS !!

If you are an alter/nonhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

#bugcave reblog #bugcave yap #about bugcave #therian community #canine therian #wolf therian #alterhuman

1K notes · View notes

utilitycaster · 2 days ago

Note

Would you be willing to share more about this campaign playing into the weaknesses of Matt, Marisha, Laura, and Liam. I guess specifically, what are the main weaknesses youre seeing and how do you think the campaign exacerbated them?

If you’ve answered this already sorry!!!

In short:

Matt is extremely good at following his players' instincts and making the world feel like it is continuing to spin even when the characters aren't focusing on it. He is actually pretty bad at guessing what the players will do until quite late in the game (sorry man you should have realized the Augen Trust plot was dead from like, at the latest, episode 12, and it's WILD that you didn't anticipate Keyleth being on speed dial would be like, a factor) and at longform railroading (especially when that requires him to bypass the long digressions a character-focused arc), and he is VERY bad at saying no or bringing down the axe. It's always good to be a kind person, and it's frequently good to be a nice person in real life, but niceness in storytelling sucks ass. So he tried to run a very heavily plotted campaign without putting a heavy enough hand on the scale, failed to handle a very aimless party, and pulled pretty much every single punch.

Marisha tends to have pretty loose character concepts. This isn't bad, but it does mean that they need to be either very driven, or for the narrative to force them to be driven, for them to be interesting. Keyleth has her Aramente and her need to become a leader. Beau's mentorship from Dairon and her close relationships with the rest of the Mighty Nein and her general curiosity led her to get involved with all kinds of messes, even though the actual backstory of her plot was largely handled without her (again, another way to look at this is C1 and C2 played to these people's strengths). But she often has these gaps that feel like she stopped character development midway through. Laudna is obviously the most egregious (the ten years in the desert is honestly hilarious in how bad it is) but think about how Patia was so utterly defined by family position - and did a good job with that! the scene where she addresses her grandfather is a highlight! - but Marisha never once had even the barest outline of her parents designed. Like that's a pretty massive oversight for a character you describe as a Kennedy! Her whole deal is who her family is! And so by making a go with the flow character but also giving that character a horrible traumatic backstory that she was not, ultimately, really over, she made an incoherent mess.

Laura excels with quiet background development and a lot of room to play with character dynamics without necessarily being in the hot seat. She is, by her own admission, afraid of making the wrong decisions in the D&D game. This is not how D&D works. You make choices. If you fail to make choices it will be boring. Vex can choose to join Saundor or not, but neither of these is The Right Choice, it's just a choice you make that has (here is the word that much of the fandom is too stupid to understand) consequences, as all choices do. If she joins with him she gets a boon, but also a drawback. If she doesn't, he attacks her viciously both physically and emotionally. So anyway Imogen was put in a position of having to make a lot of decisions but without a real time pressure either, and Laura's hesitance to do this as a character positioned as The Chosen One meant that the entire story was just a slog of a bunch of idiots with no plan or philosophy other than the basest self-interest. Imogen's introversion and unwillingness to branch out especially early on is also true to the character but really goes against Laura's own strengths with the more outgoing and gregarious Vex and Jester (or even characters willing to say weird or mean shit like Arlo, the Matron, Sweetpea. and Bethany).

Liam is also at times too nice for his own good and won't go against his friends (Caleb in particular was a great example of the character concept canceling out Liam's weakest tendencies; just as Bells Hells in many case played to people's greatest weakness, though in Laura's case it was not her fault, the Nein played to many of their greatest strengths). To be clear: being a hostile asshole at the table is bad, but if you have clearly said for a hundred odd episodes that you won't let people go forward with this plan, then when they go forward with this plan, stand up and fight. If you have said that service to the Raven Queen and an acceptance of death is important, then frankly, your friend wishing their character had a happier ending is a valid thing to feel but you are not obligated to sacrifice your own meaningful ending to give them theirs. I don't know what happened behind the scenes there, but it certainly doesn't inspire faith.

#cr spoilers #answered #anonymous

126 notes · View notes

hammerhead-jpg · 2 days ago

Text

HUZZAH!

Anyways redacteders characterizing Kody as being an asshole who's always an asshole at anything and everything and is constantly just outwardly shitty IS LAME because he is MANIPULATIVE!!! He's not just an asshole to everyone because he knows that being an asshole to people is going to make people not like him!! He cares about his reputation!! The only reason he was an asshole to the DAMN crew was because after the whole bridging situation he knew that none of them liked him so there was no point in being nice to them.

This might be just my interpretation considering freelancer is a listener and therefore has no dialogue- but to me it's obvious that there was a point in time where they were charmed by him. Like they met because freelancer came up to HIM and complemented him on his singing, they sat with him and went up to the veranda with him out of their own free will. I'm not saying that to victim blame them obv- but I think that them thinking talking to the mysterious loner chilling by himself and saying something nice would be fun is much more interesting than just "they immediately knew he was a stinky loser but just went along with it" because like 90% of the time when people get abused the abuser seems like a really nice person at the beginning and doesn't start showing their true colors until they know the victim would be too attached to leave quickly - and the idea that abusers are always easy to spot is just often used to victim blame people

If you want a character who is outwardly shitty and does fucked up things for fun with not much else to him Adam is right there‼️

Also:

"Kody is ugly and stinky because bad person=ugly and good person= pretty": ❌❌❌👎👎👎

"Kody is actually conventionally attractive because pretty privilege causes people to overlook pretty people's red flags":✅✅👍👍🫶

Also also "Kody meets a person at McKinley who's an 'extrovert adopting introverts' type but then they slowly realize that the reason Kody has no friends isn't just because he's antisocial" fic when

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted kody #bedacted noah

112 notes · View notes

samuraionyourmom · 21 hours ago

Text

Got soukoku on the mind. More specifically, their abilities naturally making them crave each other. Let me explain.

I love the idea that No Longer Human inherently feels cold. When Dazai touches someone and deactivates their ability, it feels like a wave of ice water running through their veins. It might unsettle some people and make them more reluctant to touch Dazai, subconsciously avoiding that feeling of all the warmth being sucked out of them as well as the feeling of being powerless without their ability.

I also think it's an interesting idea that Dazai also feels that icy sensation. He naturally runs cold (perhaps because of No Longer Human always being active), but whenever he nullifies an ability, he feels that chill run through his body as well. Depending on how powerful a skill is, the colder he feels, some even leaving him shivering, which he tries to hide.

I think Chuuya would be the opposite with his ability. Whenever he uses For The Tainted Sorrow, it feels like a rush of strength in his veins, hot and powerful. He also just runs hot, which is why he often sleeps without a shirt. It was very helpful when he was living on the streets and all of the Sheep cuddled up with him for his warmth. He knew they were only doing it to stay warm, but it felt like being loved, so he didn't care.

When Dazai meets Chuuya, he is very much drawn to his natural heat. He tries to touch Chuuya a lot, deactivating his gift and keeping his hand pressed against his skin just to feel the warmth it brings. Sure, that feeling of cold might wash over his body after deactivating Tainted, but his hand feels hot against Chuuya's flesh, so he keeps it there until it's smacked away. Chuuya doesn't want to admit that the cold feels nice because he thinks that Dazai is just doing this to be annoying. It's the first time he's ever felt this cooled off, and it feels strangely good, even if he doesn't admit it.

Anyway, when Chuuya uses Corruption, I imagine that it takes that hot sensation and turns it up to 1000. As a singularity, it keeps building on itself, burning hotter and hotter the longer he uses it until it feels like he's burning alive. That is until No Longer Human washes over him, squashing the flames and putting an icy chill on his wounds. It feels nice, like when someone places an ice pack on a swollen injury. To Chuuya, it feels like care and protection. He's safe from Corruption, and now, someone is tending to him. He doesn't have to worry anymore.

To Dazai, nullfying Corruption leaves him feeling colder than ever before, shivering like he's caught in a snowstorm with dripping wet clothes due to the sheer amount of power that he has to nullify. Because of this, Dazai craves the warmth that Chuuya naturally produces, touching him to try and warm up. When Chuuya is knocked out, Dazai reaches out to hold his hand for a little while. Presses a hand against his cheek. Lays him in his lap. Anything to soak up that addictive heat to combat the chill he feels from his ability.

Chuuya gets tense when he's too hot, the feeling too close to Corruption. Dazai feels that the icy sensation that his ability naturally possesses makes others reluctant to touch him, possibly making him feel more inhuman. But they naturally reach out for each other and take comfort in what the other might not like about himself. I love it.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai osamu #soukoku #skk #they make me sick #they don't ever ever want to admit that the other's heat/chill makes them feel good #suppressed idiots

78 notes · View notes

parsleysagerosemarytimemachine · 6 hours ago

Note

Good news/bad news sort of situation here. :)

The good news - this is 'just' reading comprehension. A particular specific case of it, but really this is asking "How do I tell what a text says? What does it mean?" And this means that a lot of people have done a lot of work to figure out how to help you with this.

The "bad" news - this is what every English (insert your primary language here)/literature studies class you've ever had is trying to teach you, and so you're going to have to do all of the things they (should) have been having you do to learn this, too. On the plus side, it's much easier when you're interested and motivated - going into it with subjects you're excited about will make it something you can enjoy.

So what _do_ you need to do? Well, more good news, you've already done the first important step, which is recognizing that a text (a game, in this case) can have something to say built into it, and asking questions about what it is. Now you just need to keep doing that, and read... a lot. And ask yourself every so often, about what you think it meant.

Read your favorite game. Read a game you've never heard of before. Read a game you'd like to try playing. And think about what is different between them, and what is the same, and ask what sort of things might happen because of it.

Also, read what other people have to say about these games. Find some reviews. Find some books of game theory. Find some people who talk about their experiences with the game. Ask your friends what they think about the games. Any sort of discussions can give you a new perspective on what people get out of games.

Another very nice thing about doing this with games, too, is that you can take an experimental approach! Sit down and play them! And think about what sort of game you ended up playing - was it the game you thought it was going to be when you started? What surprised you about how you interacted with the rules? Were there things you _wanted_ but didn't have the rules for? Or rules that you ignored (or wanted to ignore) because you didn't like how it made play happen?

You don't even have to do this yourself - it's a great time for Actual Play, podcasts or video, where you can see other people playing too. Try watching several different groups playing the same system, and see what is the same about the sorts of stories they end up telling. Watch them play different systems, and see how the same people tell a different story - and how much of it is the game, and how much of it is just them telling a new story? Think about it, look at the game, and ask how well it worked for them. Or have you read another game that would have made things happen differently?

And remember that it's a learning process - which means that you'll always be improving as you go, and that no one is going to have 'the answer.' You can definitely learn from what other people have said, but eventually you'll start to learn enough to disagree with some of them, and that's great! But as you go, you'll also learn more of what _you_ are interested in, and what sorts of games will get you there.

So go out there and read more games, and have a great time!

You've talked before about how "generic" ttrpg systems still contain hidden assumptions about genre, story, playstyle, etc. (e.g. gurps and military scifi/fantasy) how do you figure out what those assumptions are? what should you look for in the rules to find them?

That's a fairly involved question for which a full answer is beyond the scope of a Tumblr post (even my notoriously long-winded ones!), but I find that a good place to start is with the "who gives a shit?" principle.

For example, suppose that the first piece of mechanically significant information on a game's character sheet is a statistic called "Strength", rated on a scale from one to ten.

Who gives a shit?

That is, why do we care how strong player characters are? Why do we care about having a definite, codified answer at our fingertips to the question of which characters are stronger than other characters, to a fair degree of precision? Why does any of this matter? What assumptions are we making about the nature of the conflicts that will be present within the game's narrative?

That's a fairly trivial case, but the principle can be extended to more fundamental features of a game's rules. Let's consider the classic Dungeons & Dragons style skill check, for example: roll a die, add a stat, compare to a target number, pass or fail. What assumptions are we encoding about the nature of conflict in this game?

Well, for a start, these assumptions might include:

The assumption that generating binary pass/fail outcomes for performing discrete physical, mental and social tasks is how most conflicts will be resolved;

The assumption that your game will benefit from these outcomes having a high degree of player-facing uncertainty;

The assumption that your game will benefit from this uncertainty containing a relatively high likelihood of complete failure;

The assumption that your game will benefit from the principal determinant of that likelihood of failure being some intrinsic and objectively measurable attribute of the acting character;

... and so forth.

If you're only familiar with Dungeons & Dragons and its very close imitators, these may seem like things you have to assume in order to have a functioning game, but there are a fairly specific set of conventions being expressed here. Why do we care about any of these things? Who gives a shit?

Even the first bullet point can easily be knocked down: one can imagine, for example, a game which simply assumes players can always choose to have their characters succeed at anything it's within the realm of possibility for them to do, and whose rules instead focus on providing a codified game-mechanical answer to the question of what that success will cost them, with the only uncertainty being whether the player is willing to pay that cost.

It's clear that a game which approaches conflict resolution in this way is expressing a strong set of genre assumptions. The trick is recognising that the industry-standard alternative (i.e., the D&D-style skill check) is equally laser-focused on a specific set of genre assumptions, in a way that's often rendered invisible by how common it is.

All of which is a very long-winded way of saying there isn't a simple checklist you can go down to identify a game's genre assumptions. But then, I warned you way up in the opening sentence that this would be the case – I hope I've at least given you a place to start!

#games #reading comprehension #this is what academia is for #and why it's fun!

600 notes · View notes

everythingmp3 · 3 days ago

Text

no need to be brave

adult Van x fem!reader

as your lover deals with a hangover, which is only made worse by her illness, she insists that you leave her to deal with it by herself, but you have other plans -with a bit of tenderness and heat, you manage to make her feel it: that you want to be with her, always, not just on her good days

authors note: hi! I was on a break from posting these fics but that promo clip where adult taivan are bickering gave me some inspiration, so I just took the idea of being sweet with her while shes suffering and this came from that, hope you enjoy <3 (5.8k words)

warnings: some smut (both receive in certain ways), mentions of cancer/grief etc.

it was a sunny winter afternoon as you laid on Van´s couch and listened to the outside noise, cars driving by, the day going unfolding while you relaxed with your legs stretched out, your eyes closed, your breathing slow and steady.

you´d been dating Van long enough by that point to feel like her apartment had become your second home, and she was more than glad to leave hers years of solitary living behind, but in that moment she had no idea that you were still there.

the night before, you had gone out to a nice dinner and against all better judgment she had insisted on getting a few drinks at the bar next door; you were aware of her diagnosis, unlike when you´d first started dating, and asked her if she was sure, to give her a chance to change her mind, but she did not budge, she wanted a proper drink for once, a few even, so, instead of playing mother and telling her that she was forbidden, you caved and indulged her. for the next few hours you joined her in enjoying the present moment, regardless of consequence, soaked up the atmosphere of the dimly lit room as you stole touches under the table and both got tipsy from a few shots and two drinks, kissing to taste the citrusy booze on each others lips.

as you walked home, arm in arm, you were glad that you hadn´t dragged her home, that you got to see her face glow pink as she smiled at you under the light of the moon, paused on your way back to kiss you in an empty street, to feel you up against a wall until you heard a group of people approaching and ran, or rather stumbled, away. you had fallen asleep later on in a tight embrace while caressing each others hair, whispering sweet drunken thoughts, "my baby..", "I´m so lucky..", falling into a dazed slumber.

that burst of sparkling euphoria was replaced by a dull dread the next morning, at least on Vans part.

she couldn´t blame anyone but herself for the banging migraine she woke up to, she knew this, so she refrained from complaining to you, even though she radiated a palpable air of "I am gonna die today. not in the near future, this is it, I´m fucking done for.", her body punishing her for her recklessness, her joints and muscles aching with every move.

you were already familiar enough with her physical makeup to know exactly what she needed on mornings like that: an ice cold coke, some strong pain killers, a flaky pastry, and you doting on her, even though she denied it. Van felt embarrassed from the moment she woke up, aware of how beyond rough she looked, her hair disheveled, her face puffy, failing to suppress her groans of discomfort, and yet, you weren´t put off by it, any of it, even when she was convinced you were surely losing all of your attraction to her by the minute, it never happened, not once; you had yet to see Van in a state that didn´t elicit feelings of adoration or warmth in you, her freckled nose and cheeks, the shape of her lips, her voice, her flame colored hair, that distinct sweet warm scent she had in the morning, they were never diminished in their effect on you by a cranky attitude or signs of her sickness, ever.

you knew that she did not always believe you, that she often wondered why on earth you stayed with her, through everything, even though you weren´t even girlfriends, not officially, not really. you knew Van well enough to know that she would not ask you to be exclusive, much too afraid of the unbearable sense of guilt of locking you down, when she might die within the year, when she might evoke widow-like feelings in someone who had barely just started their adult life.

you had no way of knowing, but in her darkest moments when she was cruelest to herself her mind told her "youre a fucking monster. you already knew you had a few months at most and still looked for a lover. you tell yourself that you werent looking for more than sex but you know its not true. you were too selfish to die without having anyone wrecked by your death. you wanted someone to really grieve your loss. and now youve found a poor soul. enjoy it."

still, even when she kept things undefined and told you you were free to date other people - while dying of envy at the mere thought - in your head, and in hers, Van was your girlfriend, she was, you didn´t need her to say it because her behavior sufficed, she treated you like a partner, not just a a hook-up, she was far from detached and you let her believe that it was casual, that you weren´t at risk of having your heart shattered by her death, that you weren´t already in love with her.

the way you´d found out about her cancer had been less than ideal.

during your first date, her attitude was "no need to tell her about it, I doubt I will see her more than a few times" at the time still very attached to her idea of keeping her love life non-committal, unromantic, only allowing hook-ups and maybe a few low-key dates here and there. this plan was abandoned fast when your first date went so beautifully that you ended up kissing her goodbye in her car, which inevitably turned into a heated make-out, which turned into you asking her to come up to your room, both of you a little shocked by how deeply into each other you were after just a few hours of talking over a dinner table.

one of your fondest memories from that night was after you´d gotten lost in each other for hours, laying there tired but far from sleepy, exhilirated by your natural chemistry, when she laughed and shook her head, still breathless, and said "what the fuck are you doing to me..", since she was not used to it: a stranger being as overtly sweet and intense during sex as you´d been, kissing her not just in the obvious places but on the back of her hand, wherever you could reach in the heat of the moment, still reeling from the way you´d begged to taste her after she´d done it to you, the way you´d caressed her sides, had given her a type of intimacy that she usually felt like she’d have to earn by being more open, more vulnerable during a date - but you didn´t care to hear her life story, you were eager to feel her, fully, and it broke her down, hit her at her weak spot, the romantic in her, that she´d kept buried, coming back up to hold you as you slept together that night.

you saw each other again two days later and you ended up spending the weekend at her place, which went so smoothly that Van abandoned her rule of "no sweet stuff, nothing relationship adjacent" : she started inviting you out for breakfast, always offered to drive you to work or to meet up with a friend, picked you up at night, listened and calmed you down whenever you seemed worried or stressed; you returned the same energy by randomly showing up at her store with flowers for her place or her favorite take-out or to just keep her some company and sit near the counter while she talked to you about her recent film discoveries, gossiped about some customers, pulled you into the back-room to make out until the bell rang, you pushing her away as she groaned and uttered "I´m not done with you" as she left the room and prayed that the person would leave within a few minutes.

this honeymoon period made her feel an acute sense of shame. she had tried again and again to find the right moment to tell you, to just say it: "I am so sorry. I have been keeping something from you." but the love she had so unexpectedly stumbled into with you, that light she felt in her chest, that unfamiliar warmth that had wrapped its soft arms around her soul, she was too desperate to keep it in tact, so weeks passed before the moment came, unplanned, she didnt want it to go the way it did.

one night as you laid on top of her, still breathing heavy, still trembling a bit from the way she´d wrecked you, her hands drawing soft circles on your back, her heartbeat under your ear, you had fantasized about possibly going on a summer vacation that year, to get away from everything, to have a few days just to be together and lounge around and jump into the ocean together, eat good food, be at ease. it hit her then, the inability to picture her future because she did not know how long she still had, so she went quiet and burst into tears.

at first, you were shocked, unable to speak, since you´d never seen her shed a single tear up until then, but you quickly recovered and held her face and tried to soothe her in any way you could as the confession came spilling out: "I´m so sorry, I´m so fucking sorry, but I don´t even know if I´ll.." she choked up in the middle "if I´ll..." you coaxed it out of her, rubbed her shoulders, listened quietly as she cried, "if I´ll still be alive in summer. I have cancer. terminal."

Van had expected you to be angry with her, to feel blind-sided and betrayed by her stringing you along for weeks without ever mentioning her severe predicament, but all you could think to do then was to pull her head against your shoulder and assure her that you weren´t going anywhere, that you would figure it out together, that she had no reason to apologize.

you put on a brave face for her but later that night the other person who was home with you had to stop you from almost hyperventilating at the thought of having to watch her lose her physical strength and suffer til her premature death, which you would have to survive, somehow. you allowed yourself one night of fully falling apart and grieving the loss you were being asked to face in the near future, but the next day a determination took over, you told yourself, "I love her. I love being with her. and I will make the most out of every second. I will ease her pain in any way I can, until the end."

Van could sense this energy from that point on, your protective spirit, and it humbled her while also making her feel a bit uneasy about her being older and yet being taken care of by you, almost shedding tears when you did things for her like massage her temples and joints with essential oils to relieve some of the pain or when you clocked her lies about having eaten enough during the day and cooked her elaborate meals at night, when you made her switch during sex to keep her from exhausting herself just to make you come again and again, a sweetness to it, the way you´d sometimes move away from under her and push her back into the pillows with a pleased smile that said "your turn now, I´m very satisfied, no need to prove yourself".

that morning, the guilt had come back to haunt Van, so she told you to leave her to deal with her aching bones and hangover by herself, to go out and have a fun Saturday, to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about her, to not turn into her "unpaid nurse", as she put it.

she´d insisted quite aggressively, her mood not helping at all with her self-loathing, so you´d assuaged her by saying "okay fine, I´ll go, call me if you need any help though" and left her room, walked down the stairs, loudly, on purpose, to make it sound like you´d left, only to quietly creep up again and stay.

you refused to leave her to her own devices in a state like that. it was out of the question. not when you were afraid she might pass out on her way to the bathroom or in the shower. about two hours after she´d fallen asleep again, around 3pm, you heard some noise coming from her room that signaled to you that she was awake.

you wouldn´t just sit there and listen, so you got up from the couch and made your way over to her room, cracking the door open and preparing yourself for her to tell you off, which of course, only took a few seconds to happen, a barely suppressed grin on your face as you saw her laying there, her eyes still half-closed, her cheeks pink from sleep, and heard her voice crack as she whined your name and said "noo come on, you said you´d go, what the fuck are you still doing here??".

you smiled as you took a few steps further into the room and crossed your arms, eyeing her with an unmistakably loving gaze, "oh, perfect way to be greeted while walking into the room" an air of smugness to you as you walked over to her nightstand and popped an aspirin into the glass of water you´d left there for her earlier. Van shook her head as she rubbed her eyes and let out a "fucking hell..", clearly still out of it, so you sat down on her side of the bed to get a closer look at her, your hand resting over the blanket, a twist in your heart when you saw how tired she still looked, but a bit of life had thankfully come back into her from the nap.

"this isn´t funny... take a fucking look outside!" Van told you, gesturing wildly at the window "it´s so nice out today, you should be with friends, moving your body, enjoying the sun, whatever, not staying inside to take care of an old decrepit woman." her tone low, an attempt at sternness that wasn´t unattractive to you, still, her pout took away from her ability to seem intimidating, to seem anything but sweet to you. you watched her, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear and said "uh, would you mind pointing to the woman you´re talking about because I dont see anyone decrepit here".

Van rolled her eyes and squeezed your arm then for emphasis, trying not to be charmed, "listen to me lady, I told you, I don´t want to feel guilty all the time, I really don´t, this is my fault, I chose to drink, so you go, be free, have fun, please, I will call you when I am better again, I promise".

she was trying her best to sell it to you, the simple idea of: let us part ways, let me deal with it, and get back to you when I am fit again. but what you heard was "abandon me" and you never would. so it was pointless. she couldn´t sway you and maybe deep down she was secretly glad for it, your unwavering loyalty, the way you never seemed fazed or annoyed by her ailments, her moods, her little moments of melodrama.

"do you really think I am doing all of this out of pity? really? that I secretly hate this and just put on a brave face? come on. Van. you know me by now" you said, earnest, holding her hand then, clasping it tightly as she softened from your impact, felt touched by your gentle way of handling her. "yeah... yeah I do" she agreed and squeezed your hand, her voice barely above a whisper, a wistfulness to her tone, her eyes drawn to where your fingers were interlaced, a light kiss to her cheek from you before you took the glass with the dissolved aspirin and ordered her "drink.", which made her drop the tough act and smile, genuinely, pleased by that subtle sound of authority.

she obeyed and drank about half of it before pausing to take a breath and then finish the rest, a pleased "good, there you go" from you, which made her laugh as she wiped her mouth and lightened up a bit.

"do you have some kind of savior complex kink going on, is that it?" she teased, nudging you in the side as you sat closer to her and took in the sight of her eyes finally getting that familiar sparkle again.

"oh I see, you think I am getting off on all this, huh?" you joked, pretending to be offended, which only amused her more. Van leaned back against the headboard, stretched her limbs a bit and shrugged, "you tell me." a pause before she added "I´m sure you loveee seeing me all frail and helpless, hm". she´d slipped into the playful tone she often used when she was trying to get you to come onto her, to make her pay for some out of pocket comments by grabbing her and rendering her weak with certain kisses and touches.

Van was not in a state that allowed you too much aggression, but you had your ways, so, you nodded and said "hm sure, I love having you at my mercy", which made her flush, a hit to her core, her utter weakness for being overpowered by her lover, being toyed with, flustered by them.

you eyed her and saw it, that she was getting turned on as she responded "yeah. you could do whatever you want, couldn´t even fight back, not like this".

"hmm" you sighed and moved from the side of the bed to take your place on her thighs instead, carefully, making sure she was fine as you slowly settled on her and straddled her, your hands on her shoulders then, smiling at her as her face got colored in both surprise and arousal, her hands immediately on your hips, holding you in place, a soft groan as she felt your weight pressing down on her and sighed "okay. maybe I dont want you to leave.." her hands wandering up to your waist, a sound of pleasure from you as you nodded, pleased that you´d won, that she was finally surrendering, going quiet, letting you be good to her, make her feel wanted, even then.

"see, that wasn´t so hard hm" you cooed at her, your finger tracing her facial features in awe, the way you always did in intimate moments, her eye briefly closed as she leaned into your hand, let you caress her for a moment, sounded like a purring cat, until she grew eager for a little more skin contact and said "take this off" while tugging at your shirt.

within a few seconds you were topless, and to give her a bit more you also freed yourself off your bra, leaving you on her just in your jeans, a sight that enticed her to no end, the contrast of your fully covered legs and the soft flesh of your chest, all for her, her hands running down your shoulders over your collarbones down to your tits, your head falling back, a pleased "hmm" sound as she teased you a little, kept her hands over your tits while pressing her fingertips down, feeling you up, savoring the sight of you on her like that.

"come here" she whispered and beckoned you forward, so you leaned close enough for her to wrap her arms around your back and press kisses to your neck, quiet moans from you as she breathed in your scent and kissed her way up your pulse point, sighed to herself, kept a tight grip on your back, holding you as if she was afraid you leave, after she´d begged you to do just that mere hours before.

after a minute or so of letting her have her way, you grew too needy to restrain yourself and grabbed her face to give her proper, deep kiss, to run your tongue over her lower lip and bite it lightly before turning it more intense, slowly making out with her as she caressed your hair and sighed into your mouth, your hands on her face, your hips moving a bit from sheer need, a heat between your legs as you felt her desperation, the way she moved under the blanket to sit more securely and have a stronger grip on you, her tongue soft and warm against yours, her hands firm as they wandered from your hair to your neck, pulled you closer, until you both lost your breaths and separated for a moment, shaking, deeply turned on.

"god.. I want you so fucking bad right now. but I´d pass out, I´m already dizzy... " she confessed, her head resting against your arm, her breath hot on your skin, "the second I am stronger again, I swear to god..." she uttered and gave your hips a squeeze, another wave of heat to your core from the words, the touch, her sudden intense need for you, your hand on the back of her head, cradling her almost.

"we can still do something..." you said, unable to leave it at kissing, so she nodded eagerly and asked "oh yeah? like what?".

"I could.. help myself.." you said, which made her perk up, so you went on "I could jerk off and you could watch, if you want. help me out a bit, touch me.. my chest, your fingers in my mouth, anything", a pleased smile when you saw that the image alone thrilled Van from the way her expression changed, that look she always got when she was hungry for you. she hadn´t considered it before, watching you masturbate, adding to it, when she was too weak to follow her instinct to please you, and it moved her as much as it got her hot, your way of finding moments of deep pleasure and joy to offer her even on her worst days.

"hm.. yes please..." she said and waited, giving you a light slap of encouragement, looking at you with eager eyes as you climbed off her and took your place next to her on the empty side of the bed, pulled your jeans and underwear down, and got comfortable, spread your legs apart, ran your hand over your thigh, a sound of desperation from her as she took it all in, turned her body to face you more directly, leaned over to give you a kiss while whispering "show me, show me what you do when you´re alone", "when I´m thinking of you?" you corrected and smiled while moving your hand between your legs, a nod from her, "yes, yes that´s right..", a groan when she saw you part yourself to slick your fingers up to start rubbing your clit, slowly, taking your time with it, enjoying the act of performing for a devoted witness, for her. you let out a moan as you increased the pressure and felt yourself grow even wetter, already swollen and sensitive from before, the effect that making out with Van had had from you right from the start, you regularly soaking your underwear just from messing around on the couch a bit.

Van´s gaze remained your cunt, what your fingers were doing, how you were playing with yourself, salivating almost, until she moved her eyes up to your stomach, your chest, your face, and sighed "my angel.." as she felt overcome with affection and desire from hearing your sweet sounds, the vulnerability of it all, letting her see you the way you looked when you touched yourself in the privacy and dark of your own room, the distinct sound of your wetness almost making her black out for a second, stirring her need, her mouth watering.

she ran her hand over your chest, squeezed the flesh and got you to moan louder, teased your nipple, hardened it, felt your body shudder and react, "fuck.. please yes.." you whined and nodded, begging for more of her touch, as you rubbed yourself more aggressively, still, not too hard to come already, drawing it out, the ache, to have Van lavish you with her attention, so she did, gladly, her fingers digging into the swell of your breasts, hard, until she traced a path up to your neck, your jaw as she whispered "so fucking pretty..." and swiped her thumb over your lower lip, slowly, touching the tip of your tongue, which got a pathetic moan from you, so she took the cue and smiled as she pushed her index and middle finger into your mouth, slowly sliding them over your tongue, until you closed your lips around them and started sucking, intensely, as if you were giving her fingers a blowjob, perverse with it as you sucked and swirled your tongue over them, as she lost her mind from the feel and view of it and groaned "jesus christ...", trembling as you shut your eyes and savored the feeling of her fingers in you, as you felt your cunt throbbing with the need for release and picked up the pace of your fingers again to really come hard, to use that moment of double pleasure, both your face and lower half stimulated, rushing with blood.

Van licked her lips and let you keep her fingers wet and enclosed by your lips, an appraising "god look at you baby.. always so sweet for me...", only to move her fingers once you were close to finishing and touch your inner thigh, tracing a path up to where you were a soaking mess and helping you out by touching you below your clit, while you focused on your most sensitive spot, her fingers teasing your entrance lightly, which gave you the final push and made you shudder and come undone, the orgasm hitting you hard, your face twisted to the side, sounds muffled by a pillow, Van also moaning as she felt and heard and saw you come for her, to make not just yourself but her feel good, which she did, shaking as if she´d been the one to come as you went slack and laid there, bare, panting, flushed, smiling up at the ceiling as she kept caressing your thigh while you came down form the intense high.

you reached over to pull her hand to your mouth and lick yourself off her fingers, which made her laugh to herself in a resigned way while muttering "you know I might just die from this before the cancer has a chance to kill me.." which made you laugh too, still breathless, trembling. you kissed her hand before letting it go and rolled over to prop yourself up and look at her, "you good there, love?" you asked, grinning as she fussed with your hair and smiled back at you, "oh yeah, perfect, look at me, the picture of vitality" clearly alluding to her tired, worn out state but to you she was beautiful as ever, so you leaned in closer and said "I am looking yes, and enjoying it very much" a tap to the tip of her nose before you gave her a brief kiss, a scoff from her at your comment, which didn´t conceal the pleasure she took in being admired by you, earnestly.

"I am pretty fucking spoiled... some other chronically ill lesbians would kill to be in my position" she joked as you rested your head on her lap for a moment, felt her play with a strand of your hair. "well, I think some others would love to be in mine as well, so" you countered, smiling, but Van shook her head, a bit emotional all of a sudden. "I don´t know about that..." she said quietly "god. sometimes I feel so fucking sorry that I let things get this far. really. it was pretty selfish of me to keep you to myself like this.. like I should´ve told you from the jump, I should´ve made you -" she was falling into that familiar spiral of guilt so you interrupted her, "shhh" you said while moving your head up again and looking at her "easy there, take a breath, okay? and not to be morbid but even if you died right now you´d have still already given me way more than anyone else I´ve been with, and they were younger and fitter, so..." you told her, not lying, still, playing it up a bit, to amuse her.

"well they must´ve been doing something really fucking wrong if I of all people blew your mind" she said, raising her eyebrows, her tone dry, which got a genuine laugh out of you "maybe" you said, cocking your head, touching her arm "or maybe I just love you".

you didn´t plan on saying it but it was true and you had no desire to waste your time pretending you didn´t love her when you had for weeks and weeks already. it was natural, to say it, matter of fact, and it resonated deep within her should, the utter seriousness of your words. "love", she hadn´t heard anyone tell her that in years. she couldnt help it. she teared up, "please..." she begged, almost as if to say "I don´t deserve it.. don´t.. not me..not like this.." but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you from doing so, so she leaned in and buried her head in the crook of your neck while shedding a few tears, clinging to you, as you held her close and whispered "I love you, I do, I´m not leaving, not today, not next week, not ever. so you can stop trying to convince me."

you sounded determined in a way that cooled her burning mind, so she wiped her tears and held your face in her hands, kissed you, a faint taste of salt from her tears, an urgency to her lingering kiss before she pulled away and said "I love you too. so much." her thumb running over your cheek, your eyes closed, a smile, a reversed image of what she´d done earlier, your turn to melt into her open palm.

you felt the need to be closer again so you laid on her more directly, which got a suppressed groan from her as she laughed and said "ah, careful there.." her hand gesturing at where you were laying, only the blanket and her sweatpants separating your elbows weight from pressing against the spot where she felt the effect of the previous actions. you knew Van was sensitive, but the idea that she had gotten wet from it, that she was soaked enough for it it hurt when you applied too much force, made you want to alleviate her from the ache, to taste her, to have her relax from your mouths work. you loved being devoured by her but sometimes nothing satisfied you more in bed than knowing that you were reminding her that her body was not just diseased but deeply desired, capable of giving her deep pleasure, giving had become more intense for you after youd found out about her illness, and at times she did almost cry from it, your energy of "I will heal whatever part of you I can, I will".

"let me help you with that" you told her as you slowly moved the blanket down her legs and tugged at her waistband, smiling, "I´ll be gentle, don´t worry" assured her when you saw that she feared she might react in an undignified way, lose her composure, faint from it.

she nodded as she felt you kiss her forehead once, twice, before you moved down between her legs and pulled her pants down, glad that she wasn´t wearing underwear, getting comfortable, softly licking and kissing over her freckled thighs before doing anything else, easing her into it, enjoying the intimate, sacred vibe of having her in that weak state, in bed, while the winter sun was casting a golden hue over your bodies tangled in the sheets, your lips glued to her inner thigh, perhaps your favorite part of her, the divine tenderness of the skin there that made every little touch from you send shivers down her spine.

Van was at peace then, free of the earlier intense pain, lulled into a full bodied warm state of arousal, one that wasn´t overwhelming but got some soft moans out of her as she laced her fingers through your hair, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as you held true to your promise and ever so gently ran your tongue over her, gave her kisses and soft licks, teased her, tasting her just on the outside at first, slowly, only the tip of your tongue, before you felt her open her legs further, silently begging for more, so you moved your tongue in deeper, your arms firmly hooked around her thighs, holding her in place, caressing her stomach, more romantic with it than in moments of a shared urgent hunger, your hands eventually moving up to find hers, staying like that as you savored her taste, the deep, barely suppressed groans from her that always drove you to go a bit harder, to hear more of that, her voice strained from what you were doing.

you remained down between her legs were for a while, both of you sinking into the delicious rhythm of it, the faint sighs and whimpers, her encouraging you "feels so good... don’t stop", finally able to let you show her how much you always wanted her without pushing you away but pulling you closer, asking for more, receiving it with a smile, her head pressed back against the pillow as you made "hmm" sounds from the pleasure of eating her out for that long, a brief pause when she looked down at you, tapped your shoulder, met your eyes and said "thank you, for staying."

Van didn´t just mean that exact moment, you could tell, so you kissed her lower stomach before looking up at her again and said "always" as if you had years and years ahead of you, because in moments like that, it felt like you did, everything was forgotten, love collapsed time and made the threat of her death vanish into thin air.

#blacked out and wrote this in one go 😭 which was kinda nice tbh #saw her looking rough and wanted to jump through the screen to shield her from all harm like girl.. thats a fictional character.#anyway I would keep her alive forever I would find a way #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #van palmer #van palmer x reader

63 notes · View notes

hoonieyun · 1 day ago

Text

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ fwb!jake x reader i start fights cause i wanna makeup... summary: although you specified with jake that you were only looking for a fwb, you just love getting a kick out of pushing his buttons. after all, as much as you like starting fights with him, you like making up with him after even more.

warnings: kissing, drinking and playing beer pong, jake and yn are not good people, i'm not sure the term but they use other people to get back at one another, suggestive, consensual skinship, possessive!jake, jake slightly chokes yn but its consensual!! bratty!reader ,18+ wc: 3729

hoonieyun notes: this is probably the spiciest one out of this series but no smut because i can't bring myself to write it so everything is quite suggestive lol

you’re getting ready to go to a party when a text on your phone catches your attention. setting down your lipstick and reaching for your phone, a smile appears on your lips as you read the text in your head.

from: jaeyun need me to pick you up baby?

the text reads and you’re smirking to yourself knowing that you’ve got something up your sleeve. jake has gotten on your nerves lately because although the two of you weren’t exclusive, you were each other’s exclusive friends with benefits, meaning you two would only be seeing each other but not dating.

however, he loves to act like you’re just some girl when the two of you are in public, ignoring your advances and doing his best to act like he isn’t smitten with you after spending the weekend at your apartment, cuddling you in his sleep and making you breakfast in the morning.

sure, it was nice to have a warm body next to you when you slept at night but you were beginning to think that jake was becoming more than somebody you wanted to fuck around with and could see a life with him as your boyfriend, the only thing was you weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

he always acted differently from the jaeyun that you knew in your bedroom and the jake that you knew when it came to being around your friends and in public. you wouldn’t necessarily say he was ashamed to be with you but more often than not it felt like he was hiding this relationship the two of you had like it was something to be ashamed of.

you decide not to respond and set your phone back down to finish the last of your makeup but another text rings once again. you go to look at your phone to see another text from jake, this time he’s being less sweet and more assertive with you.

from: jaeyun alright, i’ll see you at the party i guess

you roll your eyes in annoyance at the fact that he was being so passive aggressive but you couldn’t blame him because you were being just as passive aggressive and even more with what you had planned for the night. another text appears on your phone but its from a different person this time, now a smile on your face that wasn’t partnered with mischievous.

from: myungjae :3 hi cutie, i’m outside. take your time, ok?”

myungjae was your plan for the night. if jake wasn’t going to flaunt you around like somebody he was proud to have on his arm, you’ll find somebody that would and you did. myungjae was a guy you had met at jake’s soccer game. he had come up to you before the game when you were at a vending machine and you learned that he was a player at your university’s rival team. you texted occasionally and myungjae wasn’t shy to show you how much he wanted to take you out on a date.

out of respect for jake, you always politely declined myungjae’s advances but as of lately, jake’s behavior has pissed you off so much that you didn’t care anymore that you yourself asked myungjae out on a date; to which he enthusiastically accepts.

a part of you did feel bad that you were using him to get back at jake but at the end of the day, it’s all fun and games, right?

you quickly spritz perfume onto your exposed clavicle and admire yourself in your mirror one last time before heading outside to meet myungjae. flipping your hair over your shoulder and thinking about how killer you looked tonight, knowing how you could have any guy crawling after you tonight.

when you exit your apartment, you see myungjae outside leaning on the hood of his car as he waits for you, you smile and do a slight jog to get to him, trying to make sure you don’t fall over in your heels. “hi, myungjae.” you say in a sickly and sweet voice.

“hi, cutie.” he says, smiling down at your pretty face, taking in your features and overall demeanor, he doesn’t even notice he’s checking you out until you playfully slap his chest. “keep it in your pants, mister.” you taunt and he rolls his eyes with a smirk knowing that you know how much of an effect you have on him. you place a small kiss on his cheek before he opens the door for you and grabs your hand to help you in. you watch as myungjae runs around the car to get to the driver’s side, sliding into his seat and making your way to the party– his hand on your exposed thigh the whole drive.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

when you get to the party, myungjae doesn’t leave your side at all, one of his arms is constantly draped around your shoulder or waist, or his soft hands gently wrapped around yours. it was a party by someone at your university so he only knew a few people aside from you. he follows you as you make your rounds throughout the party like he was a lost puppy and you had given him a sliver of attention that he craved.

you introduce myungjae to a lot of your friends and find your way to the kitchen where you fix the two of you a drink, a concoction inside of a red solo cup of whatever looked good and a cold glass of beer of myungjae, explaining that he’ll only have one bottle because he wants to be sober to ensure he gets you home safely. you found him so cute, pinching his cheek, if your brain wasn’t so tainted with the idea of jake you probably would’ve chosen myungjae a long time ago but jake was just constantly running on your mind no matter how badly or well he treated you in and outside of your bedroom.

as jake enters the kitchen, his steps slow down when he sees you handing myungjae his beer, clearing his throat to get both of your attention.

“yn, nice to see you.” he says, anger clearly in his eyes.

“hi, jaeyun.” you say, using the name he said was specifically reserved for you.

“have you met myungjae? he plays for the bonedo soccer team.” you ask even though all three of you know the answer to that as jake and myungjae are known to have quite the rivalry. “sup, man.” myungjae says, raising his glass to jake and jake just nods in response before stomping over to the fridge to get a beer of his own.

“have fun.” you say as he leaves the kitchen, knowing that you were not beginning to get under his skin just by showing up with not only another man, but also a man that he didn’t like. “you guys good?” myungjae asks and you turn to him with a bright smile and nod, “mhmm, don’t worry your pretty head.” you say, toasting your cup with his bottle and taking a sip of your drink, smirking to yourself once again now that your plan for the night has begun.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you’re dancing with myungjae when you glance over to a corner of the room and see that jake was sitting on the couch with yunjin in his lap, twirling her hair while jake stared at her lips. you couldn’t believe it, jake was trying to play the same game as you by getting with a girl that you didn't like. you always voiced to jake how much you didn’t like yunjin because you felt like she was always competing with you for things that didn’t matter like when she got chosen for an internship over you and told everyone it was because she was smarter than you when in reality it was because the ceo of that tech company was her godfather.

jake suddenly catches your gaze and smiles at you as if he was saying, “two can play at that game.” and you know what, two can certainly play that game so to piss jake off even more, you switch your position from facing myungjae with your hands around his shoulder to having your backside to his front, moving his hands to your waist instead as the music picks up and your bodies begin to move in unison.

if anyone saw the two of you right now they would probably mistake you and myungjae as a couple and knowing that people were perceiving you that way only angered jake further because although he would act like he didn’t know you in public, he was the only would that should be touching you in that way.

when you revert your gaze back to jake you see that he’s angrily storming out of the room, leaving yunjin with an annoyed expression as she’s left alone on the couch also watching jake leave the room.

yn: 2 jake: 1

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the next time you see jake, he’s with chaewon in the kitchen, his hand fiddling with the hem of her crop top, a longing gaze in her eyes as she watches jake who you knew wouldn’t return the same expression because he would only look at you that way.

you and myungjae make your way back inside of the kitchen to fix yourself another drink, ignoring jake and chaewon because you didn’t want to give them the attention jake wanted from you so bad. you bring your cup to myungjae’s lips as you offer him a sip and he takes a small sip because he just can’t resist the look in your eyes.

jake on the other hand is tightening his jaw and is gripping his cup so hard that it constricts, causing the liquid on the inside to splash onto him and chaewon, “what the fuck?” she exclaims, causing you and myungjae to look over at them. you see chaewon swipe her hands in annoyance to get rid of the beer on her skin and jake apologetically follows her out of the kitchen as she storms out. you roll your eyes and shake your head knowing that jake couldn’t beat you in your own game.

no matter how hard he tries to get under your skin, you were already deep under there.

yn: 3 jake: 2

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you soon find yourself competing against jake and chaewon in a game of beer pong with myungjae. you were surprised he was very good which you knew only made jake angrier as he wasn’t the best at the game. you had even warned jake that he should probably find another couple to play against, boasting about myungjae’s abilities without knowing if your bluffs were true.

the sound of you calling yourself and myungjae a “couple” sets him and causes him to start the game before you even accept his challenge– and with just a few tosses, you and myungjae have only lost one cup while jake and chaewon had lost all but one cup.

it was myungjae’s turn to toss the ball and for good luck, he asks you to blow on the ball and you oblige. blowing on to it with puckered lips and an unbreaking gaze with myungjae. jake is gripping the edge of the table as he watches the two of you, chaewon standing off to the side disinterested in any of this as she’s noticed that jake was more focused on trying to win you over and competing with myungjae than he was interested in her. at some point she ends up leaving after she receives a text from yunjin saying that jake ghosted her at the party so she leaves without notice and jake definitely doesn’t notice her absence.

when myungjae skillfully tosses the ping pong ball towards the cup, it goes right in, earning cheers from everyone watching and most importantly, you. you’re jumping up and down while clapping, proud that myungjae has successfully won you the beer pong game and to reward him you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss but you’re suddenly dragged away when jake grabs onto your wrist and pulls you outside into the front yard.

“let me go, jake!” you yell, trying to free your hand but his grip on you is relentless and there was no way you were freeing yourself.

“are you done?” he asks and you look at him with an expression that reads like you had no idea what he was talking about. jake inches closer, his nose almost touching yours as he looks down into your eyes with so much fury in his eyes at the stunt you had pulled tonight. you looked up at him with an arrogant gaze knowing that your plan was successful, flashing him a smile like you were so innocent in all of this, jake can’t help but smirk at you; wiping his face with aggravation.

“yn, are you ok?” myungjae says from behind as he stands at the door.

before you could even respond, jake flashes his middle finger at the poor guy and drags you to his car, leaving myungjae behind without an explanation; a noticeable pout on his lips as he watches you willingly leave with jake and get inside of his car.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the drive to jake’s apartment was quiet, his jawline more prominent than usual as he’s constantly flexing his jaw in annoyance, trying to think of what he wanted to say to you but all he had in his head was how he was going to make you beg after being so bratty all night.

the grip he had on your thigh was a lot different than the one myungjae has on you hours before, jake squeezing your thigh with so much force that when he let go as you arrived at his apartment, there was a visible print on your skin.

“get inside.” he says and you know not to disobey him further, a smile on your face as you think about all of your efforts tonight being successful and how this was the result that you wanted. sure it was wrong to start a fight with jake all because you wanted to but at the end of the day, it was his fault for acting like he didn’t crave your touch every night.

it may be wrong to like to start fights but it was all because you enjoyed making up after a lot more.

when you enter jake’s apartment, he’s right on your heel, shutting his door behind you and pressing you against the door, his hand wrapping around your neck. “you wanna act like a brat?” he taunts, eyes scanning your face and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find jake’s behavior attractive. you decide to stay silent to push his buttons even more as he hates being ignored.

“hmph, i’ll make you regret acting like that.” he whispers into your ear, his lips lightly grazing your ear as he hauls you over his shoulder and takes you to his bedroom. you try to fight him off, squirming around but it is to no avail as his strong grip around you prevents you from moving around too much.

you were starting to think that this was all a bad idea but you couldn’t help but crave the way jake treats you whenever you act this way.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

after several hours of releasing tension, anger, and frustration; you and jake are laying on his bed, out of breath and staring into his ceiling. the blankets are covering the two of you and you’re laying in silence after everything that just happened. you got what you wanted and so did jake even if he was furious with you just a few hours ago.

“you still being bratty?” he says with a cocky smirk and you just roll your eyes at him as you sit up, bringing the blanket up further to cover yourself. “jake i wouldn’t be acting like this if you treated me the way i deserve to be treated.” you say and the harsh truth hits jake in a way that he didn’t expect.

he thought you were only acting like that because you wanted his attention but not because you were genuinely bothered by his behavior, “what are you even talking about?” jake says, turning towards you and propping up his arm with his elbow and resting his head into his hand.

“jake, you practically act like i don’t exist when we’re in public or with our friends.” you explain and jake huffs as if he was exhausted from this conversation already.

“we’re not even dating?” he says and now it was your turn to be furious with him. “that’s not the point, jake! you act like i don’t exist, you ignore me, and you act like you’re ashamed to be seen with me but once the sun sets you’re texting me to have me sleep in your bed.

how is that supposed to make me feel? i know we’re friends with benefits but the first word of that arrangement is ‘friend’ and you haven’t treated me like one.!” you shout and jake was getting up to get dressed, avoiding your gaze.

“oh and bringing myungjae’s ass to the party, were you being a good friend? you know i don’t like his ass!” he retorts and you’re standing up in aggravation because jake was not getting the point, “that doesn’t matter!” you try to yell back and he interrupts you, “yes it fucking does! you know i don’t like him and you still brought him to piss me off, why!” he shouts and jake has never raised his voice at you like this before. the two of you getting caught in a screaming match like no other as you both shout at the top of your lungs at one another.

“because i like you and i wanted to be with someone that liked me the way i like him but the whole time you were the only one on my mind, ok!” you shout, finally confessing to jake that you’ve developed feelings for him despite that being the golden rule of your arrangement.

never catch feelings.

jake wipes his face with a heavy sigh and you’re plopping back down onto the mattress after getting so worked up you found yourself standing on top of his bed, the blanket barely clinging onto you.

“what?” jake mutters.

“i like you, ok? i have for a while and it pisses me off that you act like i’m just some girl when we spend almost every night in each others arms, you hold me at night like you never want to let me go but when morning hits sometimes you’re gone before the birds even begin to chirp.

you make me feel things i know i’m not supposed to feel and it hurts, ok?” your chest is rising up and down as you finally let out your feelings and jake is looking at you like you’ve just told him your deepest and darkest secret.

“thats… no! you can’t like me, i’m not good for you!” he explains and you’re looking at him like none of the words that leave his mouth make any sense.

“you’re too good to me, you’re so sweet and kind and treat me like i’m the only thing that matters in your life even when i’ve been so shitty to you. even right now! i’ve been shitty to you and you’re professing your love to me and i don’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you!

you deserve better and i’m not that.” jake responds and you’re fighting off the tears pooling in your lashes.

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve..” you whisper and you’re staring at one another in silence.

jake is weighing the option in his head. he loved you so fucking bad, probably even more than you loved and his actions tonight showed that with how bad he fought for you despite you constantly choosing myungjae over him. if jake was being honest, he fell for you fairly quickly when he spent the night one weekend and gave him face masks to put on because you had made a comment on how dry his skin was. it was that small gesture that made him fall for you and everyday after he fell deeper and deeper.

jake was terrible for you and he knew that and although he wanted to be selfish and keep you all to himself, he knew that your life would only be miserable if you stayed with him. that’s why he started avoiding you and slowly distancing himself in hopes that it would just drive you away but it only drove him closer to you because he hated seeing another man touch what was his.

“no.” was all jake says and you didn’t need any further explanation. you’re jumping out of his bed and shoving past him to put your clothes back on and jake instantly regrets this, trying to get you to stay but it seems that jake has made up your mind for you by not rejecting you but dictating what you deserved; and it wasn’t him.

“wait- don’t leave, come on.” he begs and you’re shaking your head and wiping your tears away, angry that you were crying over a man who didn’t even spare your feelings after you had just confessed to him.

when jake tries to grab onto your arm to stop you from leaving, you’re quick to snatch your arm away and leave his room, standing at the door to listen to the last of his pleas, begging you to stay and explaining that you are meant to be and that jake didn’t mean what he said but it was all too late. you could tell he was just backtracking because he was scared of losing you and although you felt the same way and wanted nothing more to run back to him; you left jake in the darkness of his bedroom without another glance.

deciding that you do deserve better even if the realization came from a heartbreaking experience, the revelation a result of having to lose someone you once held so close to your heart.

"makeup" slayyyter x lolo zouai the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artists above

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

@river-demon-slayer @ikeulove @fluerz @pjselee @multistansimp4life @yunthejin @urmomdotcom5678 @heebear @mora134340

#kiki diaries #enhypen #en-diaries #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enha #fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

129 notes · View notes

magix-winx-club · 15 hours ago

Text

More Daisies and the World is good

(non descript) reader x Daryl Dixon

Can be read as an autistic reader.

Pre-relationship, the beginning of falling for someone.

Summary: Soft kind of intimacy, like sharing a flower can feel like the world. Daryl gets gifted a flower from reader.

Trigger: Fluff, reader being a bit overwhelmed (autistic meltdown?)

If Daisies were like you, the world would be okay.

You made your way up to the Guard tower, trotting along the lush grass, which finally got a break after a heatwave that felt like it lasted for years instead of a fortnight. The rain had set in four days ago and gave the prison occupants a nice reprieve from otherwise stifling air.

You had Judy today, and once the rain had settled you took the chance to go on a little walk with her. Daryl had found her some, bright yellow rubber boots, and you had found an old raincoat that practically swallowed her whole. She looked absolutely and undeniably adorable in her little get-up. Taking wonky steps before falling flat on her butt again. She had been doing this a lot lately, seemingly impatient to finally walk and run a muck with the other kids in the prison.

You had taken Judy outside no longer worried about her getting instant heat stroke or sunburned. For the first few minutes, you held her in your arms as you sauntered the courtyard, enjoying the smell of rain in the air. Soon though, she started to wiggle and fuss wanting to walk herself. So slowly you put her on her feet, holding her hands in yours as she waddled between your legs, stumbling ever so often. She started to stumble more and more and it was clear she was exhausted. Swiftly you sat down on the damp grass, not caring if your raincoat got wet or dirty. In this world that was not only a given but what it gave even more was the hard lesson not to care about things like clean clothes. With one swoop you had Judy between your crossed legs. Immediately, she started to pull on the grass, giggling to herself as if the wet weed was the most hilarious thing she had ever seen. It made your heart ache for her, your love for the little girl was never stronger than in these moments of utter peace. So just for a moment, you allowed yourself to close your eyes, to listen to the light wind, the giggle of a sweet girl, and the smell of rain, and dirt. Softly you caress the wet grass between your fingers.

Prison life could be overwhelming with all these people so close, never real privacy, and to your shame, you found that more taxing than killing walkers. So often you had to steal away from the group into a dark grimy corridor deep in the prison just to breathe. To try and decompress. But there were times, such as these where all you needed was to sit, close your eyes, and breathe. These were the moments you cherished and no one gave you as many of these moments as a certain long-haired archer. Sometimes, you thought he needed this as much as you the tranquility of the simple things, like wet grass, the sunrise, a full moon, the sound of a stream. The small things that even after the world ended you still had, the one constant.

Soon you were pulled from your tranquility and wandering thoughts of the archer when your sweet little girl pulled on your coat. She was trying to stand up again. Chuckling you raised your arms to stabilize her. Silently you cheered her on, even though you knew Rick was already starting to be wistful of the days she could do naught but roll over. At last, Rick had nothing to worry about as the little girl plopped down again, unable to keep herself upright for long. Yet, the one thing she did master to everyone's great distress was crawling. A quick one she is. Before you knew it, she had climbed out of your lap and was crawling on the floor. You had to put a hand over your mouth not to burst out into laughter and scare the poor girl when she kept faceplanting, the coat too big and her little knees stomping on it kept her from moving efficiently.

But someone else had no qualms about it. A deep rumble, came from your left, near the cars. You paid it no mind for the first time, too focused on Judy. But once she faceplanted again, looking up with wide eyes, wet grass on her face, like she had no idea this could even happen, you heard it clear as day, a deep laugh, almost like a bark, roughened from years of smoking. Biting on your lip to keep from laughing yourself, you glanced over at Daryl. Who was watching the little girl in a display of rarely shown so openly – amusement. The look in his eyes of adoration for that girl always had your heart melting. You swore if the girl asked him to jump off a cliff, to catch her a star, or bring back dinosaurs Daryl would do everything in his power to make it come true.

A yelp snapped you out of your daydreaming. Judy was lying on the ground trying to rub the grass off her cute little face, her nose scrunched up her mouth turned downward. Before you could get up and get her someone else had scooped her up into his arms, holding her high. “Li’l Asskick, ta’en out by som’e wet grass,” he tisked. Nonetheless, he wiped her little face, with one of his bandanas, not the red one luckily or it would have seemed Carol's talk about not using that ‘raggedy’ piece of fabric for a precious girl like her would have been for nothing.

Pushing your knees up to your chest, you leaned your arms on them, watching with a stupid grin as he so sweetly cleaned off all the dirt, wetness, and grass that had made baby Judy so unhappy. You could not see her face but you knew she looked at Daryl like you looked at the stars, in wonder and amazement. You would never say it out loud but you had a feeling that Daryl was Judies favourtie.

“There ya go.” He gently put her on her feet holding onto her little hands. “Com’on let’s go to your aunty Y/N/N” You held your arms out smiling at the little girl, who made her way slowly and unsure to you. “He’e ya go,” he gently encouraged her. “And-.” He suddenly lifted her, by her arms swinging her forward into yours. “There ya’ is.” Judy squealed in delight. Bouncing up and down in your arms. “Thanks.” You smiled up to him. “Was feeling kinda lazy hoped she would start walking so she could take over my fence duty later.” You grinned at him. As per usual Daryl gave a snort instead of a laugh. The only one he laughed for was little Judy. “Goo’ luck with ‘hat.” He caressed Judy over her head before, giving you a curt nod, and returned to his bike.

Judy followed him with big eyes. “Yeah, I get it, he is your favorite. But can I at least be number too?” You turned the girl around, thinking to yourself, he is my favourit too. Before you had time to settle her in your lap, off she went. “Judy, common.” You laughed. This time she did not go very far. You thought she would try to follow Daryl, as she was heading left, but instead, she stopped at a wild daisy. She promptly gripped the flower and pulled it, lifting it up into the air. “Yes, you most certainly are the greatest scavenger among us, my sweet girl.” She gurgled as if to agree with your statement. Before she could put the flower in her mouth you took it from her, which Judy did not like one bit. She would be kicking up a fuss in no time and before her loud screaming could attract more walkers you picked her up and headed for the cell block, the flower still in your hand.

Daryl glanced up from his bike, which he was working on when Judy started to cry. He watched you pick her up with ease, that soft expression you always seemed to have on your face still there. Your gentleness calmed him, as did the kindness in your eyes and the soft-touched and reassuring smiles. He had found himself on the end of those so many times, and still, it made his heart stutter a bit. How can someone, even in this world be soft? You could take out walkers, you scavenged and were on the road all winter, never complaining. All the hardship should have given you edges but instead, it seemed like nothing could chop away at those gentle hands. He would never say it out loud, he would feel too awkward, but he admired you for that.

He watched you until you disappeared into the cellblock before continuing with his day's work. Carol watched from afar, how Daryl could not take his eyes off you, chuckling to herself. Michonne who was at a nearby fence looked at her questioningly. Carol only nodded towards the courtyard. The stoic woman let a smirk of her own slip, shaking her head: “Ten bucks, he won’t make a move until she almost dies.” Carols let out another chuckle. “Make it a bar of chocolate and I am in.”

You made your way into the Cellblock already working on calming down a fussy Judy. “Oii, I know I am so mean not letting you eat that flower. I know, I know.” You shot Rick a grin who sat with Carl playing cards. Carl shot up once he heard his sister. “I got her.” He carefully held her in his arms, Carl really was a good brother. “Don’t worry little sis, I’ll save you from your big, bad Aunty.” “Hey! I am her second favorite.” You shot back. Carl just raised a mocking eyebrow at you. “Yeah, well okay but I at least am in the Top 10.” He held that look a bit longer. “Yeah, okay fine. I’ll give you that.” Before he could give a more and more fussy Judy back, you stepped back. “Eh, eh, eh. Finders keepers.” You grinned, making your way to your cell. Rick's laugh echoing from behind. “She got you there buddy.”

You had no intention of bailing on your babysitting duty. The prison had eggectivley come up with a plan to raise Judy all together. It was the one thing everyone loved to do, so there was no shortage of helping hands. You mostly took the girl when Rick and Carl had their father son time. You thought it a good idea of Rick to take at least one afternoon every week to play cards with his son, to walk the courtyard or simple read a comic together in their cell. It had been so tough for the both of them since Lori they had to reconnect. It gave Carl the room to talk to his dad, and be a kid again. So, of course you would take Judy and never complain.

You arrived at your cell, unconsciously you put the flower on the small desk before picking up the book you were reading to Judy. Not that she understood much, but that did not matter. She still loved the different voices you made.

Quickly, you made your way to the common room again. Judy was balancing on Carl’s lap while he tried to play cards with his dad.

Swiftly you lifted the little girl from her brother. “My,” you said in a high-pitched voice, a mock surprise. “See what I found here. I think I might just keep her.” You smiled down at the little girl. “Have fun boys.” With that, you turned and made your way out of the cellblock again. Carl is ready to kick his dad's ass again with both hands-free.

You wandered to the side of one of the walls near the cars, where someone had pushed a table against the wall. Usually, it was meant for tools and all sorts for the car. But today it would be your reading spot with Judy. Even though you loved her you still felt a bit embarrassed reading out loud, especially when you did the voices. You were not the strongest when reading out loud. Often stumbling over your words and reading sentences in silence before being able to read them out loud. So a place away from the crowded seating areas was perfect. You quickly glanced up, making sure no one was there. Daryl was far enough that he would not hear but close enough if something happened. Even though I was the one often standing to the side, you knew that it helped him to know that Judy was close when she was outside. Just in case. He had not told you so much in words but you had a cat before everything, and she always happened to be in the same room as you. Not close but close enough to see you. Daryl reminded you of her, grouchy and never one for constant cuddles, but always near.

Soon the sun started to set and the baby grew restless with hunger. This also meant it was the end of your babysitting shift. Not a duty, just a shift. So you dropped her off with Rick, ready to get your food.

Clearing your throat you began to read.

It had been a good day, and you were in a peaceful mood, it did not happen often. Nowadays, tension is a constant companion. The cafeteria was buzzing with people, it slightly overwhelmed you. Noise always got to you made you nervous, or irritated, or gave you a plain old headache. That was one of the biggest struggles always having people around, the noises and movements all around you. Never still, never silent. Yet, you were in such a tranquil mood you focused on getting to the supper queue. Picking up one of the clean plates from the stack, you held it close to you, slightly rocking back and forth, focusing on one spot with your eyes. It was easier that way to tune everything out. Soon enough you were at the front of the queue. Carol shot you a smile, “Here you go.” You smiled in thanks and quickly made your way to the other side of the room, where your original people sat. Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Carl, even Tyrese. You breathed a sigh of relief. That was always the worst part about high school. Walking through the cafeteria hoping you would find someone with whom you belong.

Hastily sitting down, you shot Maggie a smile, when she greeted you. You guessed now you belonged to the cool kids. It was ridiculous but you thought it was the coolest thing. Knowing you were part of this group of misfits who somehow were strong, and fierce, and not to be messed with as the Governor found out.

You did not talk much, just taking in the people around you, eating and laughing. While slowly shoveling food in your mouth, when you were in these moods you were slow to eat. As if you had to remind yourself not to just sit and stare at nothing but actually function.

You watched as Daryl went up to Carol who held a bag with food ready for him already. He has sidestepped the now dwindling group of people still waiting on their food. Daryl bashfully nodded at them, before grabbing Carol’s bag. He must be on guard duty, you thought. Carol always made sure to pack him some food, for up there. Looking down at your own play, you pushed the grilled vegetables around. Must be nice, to sit up there, on a ledge the night sky above you, wind slightly blowing at your face, and eat. Silent. Yes, it would just be. You could feel that odd feeling spreading through your body. The one that clogged up your throat and stopped you from speaking, pressed on your head and made every organ, vein, and muscle in your body that much heavier.

Abruptly, you stood up. Take your plate and wave goodbye to the few remaining people at your table. You knew better than to waste food. Even though you’d rather not eat right now, you might want to later. So you took your plate with you and made your way to your cell. It would be a bit more quiet here.

Once you pulled the curtain from the bars, it fell close, you let out a deep breath. Luckily, you had no more duties today, no dish cleaning, no burning the bags of trash at the backside of the prison. Nothing. For once, you could just lay in your bed and stare at the wall without feeling too guilty that this is what you were doing. The plate next to you is on the floor. You knew you would eat it later but just had to let that weird mood you sometimes got into pass. So this is what you did.

You had been staring there so long at the wall, that all semblance of sun was gone from the sky by the time you started to move. It started slow, shifting your body into a new position usually. That is when you knew you were slowly coming out of your mind again. Not long after you grabbed the plate from the floor sitting cross-legged on your bed and slowly munching on the now cold veggies. You knew if Carol saw that she would instantly heat them again. Might even go get you fresh ones, but that was Carol for you. The matriarch of this prison, was strong and cold when need be but loving and kind to those she cared for.

Slowly, the knot in your throat started to lessen and you felt yourself relax, feeling happy. Glancing over at your desk you saw the small flower from earlier. Now thinking about it you grinned, remembering seeing Judy going for Daryl but then seeing the flower. You stood up, putting the now empty plate next to the flower. Gently you lifted it, as far as you could tell it was still intact even though Judy had griped it hard when pulling the small weed out of the ground.

You quickly grabbed your trainers putting them on, together with your coat, and made your way outside. Passing some of your family that were sitting around the common room. One person still missing. You still held the flower in your hand, tucked away in your coat pocket.

Pushing open the door you felt the cold of the evening. Snuggling your coat closer to yourself, you made your way down to the Guard Tower. Carefully climbing the stairs. Even though you had come accustomed to seeing in the dark, you had no intention of taking a tumble down the stairs. So, slowly you made your way up and there he was. The man you were looking for.

He shot you a glance over his shoulder, where he was leaning against the outside railing, a cigarette in hand. Smiling at him you took a seat to his right, your back against the Guard Tower. He grunted at you in greeting as he so often did. It made you smile a little bit more, and your heart leaped a bit. How odd, that such a small thing can make you happy. He took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes scanning the trees beyond the fence. It had been a quiet day, all around and now it seemed to be a quiet night too.

You two stayed silent for a bit just enjoying the freedom of being high up, the cold air, and no danger. Finally satisfied that no herd was approaching all of a sudden, he sat down next to you. Both of your backs against the Guard Tower, and your knees bent up towards your chest. It was not the first time you had come and sat with whoever was on guard duty. Mostly, you sat inside on the makeshift mattress, buried in the blankets and reading a book, when things got too much, too loud. You liked it most when Daryl was on duty, he did not try to talk to you, satisfied to just sit for a moment. He understood that sometimes things were too much. Even though he did not understand what you meant sometimes with too loud. How can someone walking or just existing be too loud for you? But he did not ponder on it. Just accepted. So he would usually stay out on the railing while you were inside reading between the blankets.

Today, however, you were not fleeing from the pressing feeling inside you that told you everything was too much. Today you had something for Daryl. Slowly, you took your hand out of your pocket. The flower, still in hand, with its small white petals, and yellow dot in the middle. “Here.” You held it out to Daryl. He looked at you in bewilderment. “’s a daisy.” He said. Thinking you were asking about what it was, as you sometimes did with things you found. You quirked a smile. “I know.” You held it out to him. “Judy picked it for you earlier.” He looked at the small flower in your hand, and your open, honest eyes, and back to the flower. He slowly lifted his hand, scared he would destroy it with his rough wethered hands. Gently, he took the flower from your hand and you smiled at him. His expression, usually guarded, neutral, or in a scowl was gone. His lips drawn in a just there smile. “She picked it for me, hm?” There was humor in his voice. “Yeah, she wanted to follow you but guess the flower was the closest she could reach.” You said, dropping your hand. Now satisfied it was where it belonged. The notion might have been ridiculous but you truly did think Judy picked it for him. And it was not right to keep that from him. “You sayin’ I’s a flower?” He drawled. There was teasing in his voice, but also disbelief at the ridicule this was. You thought for a second before humming yes. “I would not have picked you to be a Daisy but yes. I guess so.” Sometimes Daryl wondered at the way your mind worked. But he liked that about you. The way you did not shy away from saying what you thought even if it was not what people expected. Or maybe you just did not see it that way.

He grunted: “Wha’a flower ya’s pick me for then?” Your gaze, directed towards the woods, fully focused on him now. You looked him over. Rouch and unkempt but there was something that made you think of the first warm rays of sunshine. “A Sunflower.” You grinned widely as if you had found the perfect answer. At that, he let out a big scoff. “A Sunflower.” He repeated disbelieving in his voice. He shook his head, looking at the small flower in his hand. And for some reason he found he believed you, he agreed. Judy picked this for him and it made him stupidly happy to think so. Glancing up at you he realized, you should be a Daisy. They need more of you in the world. Daisies were growing everywhere and people just walked right past. If Daisies were like you then maybe, just maybe people would stop and their lives would be better for it. They’d be happy just like he is. Sitting next to you, a Daisy in his hand. Glancing out at the world he smiled.

REMEMBER TO COMMENT! maybe then I will do a part 2 :)

#TWD #the walking dead #twd x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader fluff

34 notes · View notes

beelanddiavolosimp-blog · 1 day ago

Note

Pls pls pls write more for ur mc!!! Those headcanons were js 😩🙏🙏

Of course of course 😁

My MC headcanons

She is a switch but has many insecurities about her body but once that boundary is broken she is definitely hypersexual. A big(not) problem for the entire characters.

Lucifer

With Lucifer she loves being dominated by him. She will feed into his sadistic tendencies and allow him to practically bully her into submission. But! She often breaks him. She feels a surge of power when making Lucifer beg and he looks oh so pretty when he does so she often makes him beg wether its to fuck her, eat her out or even touch her.

Mammon

With Mammon she love LOVES teasing him. Not in a bully way a 'god you're so cute I want to fuck you' type of way. She is more handsy with him since she feels the most comfortable with him. He practically worships the ground she walks on so she isn't too scared he will find her disgusting like she does. By handsy she is full on tracing his abs, arms, back, boxers. Literally whatever she feels like doing and she enjoys watching his skin get goosebumps and see his cock slowly spring to life and then just disappear.

Levi

With Levi she is mostly a dom. She loves how pathetic he looks when begging or stuttering. She also doesn't feel as insecure with him either since he is even more insecure than her so she mostly focuses on making him feel better. A good distraction! She loves making him flush red in front of people saying the most outlandish things randomly like 'he may not look it but he is big' and leave no context to it. She also is very handsy with him but in a more gentle way. She will make him bend down (since she is short) and cup his face and play with his hair that she finds severely pretty. She will also make use of his love for her thighs making him sit in her lap and if she is feeling especially spicy she will wrap her thighs around his head and squeeze them randomly just to listen to whines.

Satan

With Satan it seems as if they never fuck at all. They are always comfortably cuddling or discussing a nice book they both enjoyed. It's all a play to what they really do. She loves voyeurism a lot and Satan enjoys pissing Lucifer off so they often fuck in places where Lucifer is near or where he will be. They get very aggressive with each other with her scratching down every part of him she can reach loving the red on his skin and him leaving bruises behind on her body from holding her down or getting too lost into the moment. He is one of the first people to choke her and her be okay with it. They have their own little thing with skirts and thigh highs.

Asmos

With asmos she sees him more of a friend so nothing sexual happens between them. All wholesome and funny for them.

Beel

Oh boy. She has a HUGE thing for himbos. Once she met beel she could not get over him. She admired him everyday and it was severely wholesome. She has a deep love for his smile and even more for his laugh. His eyes are something she will paint/draw over and over again. But this isn't wholesome time here. She constantly craves him. So much so that even asmos says she reeks of his sin when around Beel. She is shameless in watching his muscles wether it be him coming out of the shower wiping his face of sweat after a game or even him just stretching and a little bit of skin peeks out she is BRICKED. Hell even his voice gets to her. Once she breaks it to him she is practically in love and obsessed with him he is on cloud nine. He loves how much she wants him makes him feel very special. Now she isn't the greatest at head but she does have a tongue piercing she puts to use. She will lick over other parts of his body while she jacks him off. She is the one who leaves bite marks and bruises on his body practically worshiping him. When he does really anything to her she is LOUD. She also cums the fastest with him because well she loves him. It's not uncommon for beel to be covered in her scent and marks the brothers are severely jealous of this.

Belphie

With belphie it's like fucking your guy friend. She and him bully each other playfully back and forth. Yet their eyes hold a deep lust for one another. She is actually quite into somnophilia and oh boy does belphie love this. Not many of the brothers even know they do fuck since it is when they are asleep together. They do the most risky things like her cockwarming him on the couch with the brothers around but it only seems like belphie is sleeping and resting his head on her shoulder. When in reality she is gripping his hair panting softly as he is as well. They are the ones that fool around the most at school. Janitors closets hate to see them coming. She also is into him choking her and well just his hands in general. She does have to let him know she isn't afraid of him y'know...from past uh...events.

I hope this is what you meant or enjoyed. We are freaky in this house. Should I do the side characters now?🤔

30 notes · View notes

dyns33 · 3 days ago

Text

Anything goes

I started another Cooper Howard's story and I'll be honest, it's hard for me to complete it, but I'll do my best !

Y/N had become little Janey Howard's babysitter several months after her parents' divorce.

Before that, her father and mother always found time to take care of her when the other was working, or they would entrust her to their governess.

This was no longer possible for Mr. Howard, who had to pay alimony to his ex-wife, while having a lot of trouble getting new roles because of the rumors surrounding him.

It was said that he was close to the Reds, that he was a traitor, even though he was a war hero, and the face of Vault Tech. He would have used this position and his wife's to obtain information and sell it to the Chinese.

Nothing had been proven, but it could explain the breakup, as well as the time it took to find a good babysitter. Many women were afraid to ring Mr. Howard's doorbell, not wanting their reputation to be tarnished, or wondering if the man had other dark secrets that could put them in danger.

There were also those who wanted to get closer to him to get information that they could sell to journalists, or have their names in celebrity magazines.

Y/N didn't care about all that. She needed a second job to pay her rent, she liked children, was discreet, and hadn't really heard about all these stories before Mr. Howard brought them up during their interviews.

Seeing that she didn't understand at all what he was referring to and that she was a trustworthy person, he was ready to give her the job. But first, Janey also had to validate her.

It was love at first sight with this child. Y/N had already babysat, and she had never met a little girl as cute, as lively and as endearing. She only had to say hello and give her her name for Janey to give her the most beautiful smile in the world, asking if she wanted to play with her and her dog, Roosevelt.

"I would need you on Wednesday afternoons, weekends and sometimes for several days but I will let you know in advance. Does that suit you ?"

"Perfect, Mr. Howard."

"Cooper, please. My father was Mr. Howard. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, I would understand. And if someone bothers you… Tell me."

At first, Y/N thought he was talking about his fans, his detractors, the paparazzi. Indeed, there were quickly new rumors, claiming that they were having an affair. Maybe even before the divorce, when they didn't even know each other at the time.

It took several months for Cooper to admit to her that he was mainly talking about the Vault Tech employees. He had signed a confidentiality agreement, in order to have the right to continue seeing his daughter and so he couldn't say anything concrete, but he knew things. They weren't nice.

"They might contact you." he told her while pouring himself a drink, after going to see the little girl who was sleeping peacefully. "To offer you money to find secrets or to ask you to leave. Being able to take care of Janey is another condition, and they are good at scaring away the babysitters."

"I'm sorry, Cooper. Don't worry, I'm staying. You'd be lost without me, and I love Janey."

"She loves you too." he smiled, looking at her with sparkling eyes, placing his hand on hers.

Since the divorce, he saw few people apart from his daughter, Y/N and people linked to the small jobs he managed to find, minor roles or entertainment at birthday parties.

There were still a few more or less loyal friends. One of them was Sebastian Leslie. Of course, he was also afraid of reprisals, but he had already sold his voice for the dubbing of all the Mr. Handys, ensuring him a pretty fortune.

His visits were rare, but he came with gifts for the prettiest girl in the world, and flowers for the most patient person ever.

"Miss Y/N, of course, who deserves all our respect for being in your presence so often and not having lost her mind yet."

"As always, you are hilarious."

"I've heard things, but now that I see you, wonderful Y/N, I know it's impossible. You can do much better."

"Thanks, Seb." Cooper sighed, patting Y/N on the shoulder in apology for the nonsense.

She didn't mind people thinking they were together. First, because people were stupid. And most of all, because she wouldn't have minded if it were true. She liked Cooper.

Sure, he was a little older than her, but he was charming. Funny, smart, kind. When they were all together with Janey, they sometimes did activities that made them seem like a family.

But she wasn't family. His marriage had had a difficult end, he had trouble paying her some months, and if he wasn't completely depressed yet, it was because he didn't want to lose his daughter.

It was a surprise when Mr. Leslie came knocking on her door, urgently asking her to follow him, without really giving an explanation. Sweating, worried, he mumbled incoherent things, when he wasn't yelling at his driver to go faster.

Still unclear, he took her arm to put a pitboy on her. Y/N had already seen them on television, or worn by well-dressed, very important, rich people.

"If you're asked, my dear, you are my adorable niece, my only heiress, with whom I insist on living the renovation of the world."

"… What ?"

"I know you're not an actress, but I hope that hanging out with the best of us has helped you a bit in this area. You'll have to be convincing, even if I'll be talking most of the time."

"Mr. Leslie…"

"Uncle Seb. Or Bastien."

"I don't understand anything at all, you don't…"

"Listen to me." he said very seriously, squeezing her wrist. "We don't have much time. They're going to blow everything up. I know Barb is going to take measures for her daughter, I know it. I can't do anything for Cooper, but he loves you very much, so this, I can do for him. At least the little girl will have someone sane to take care of her afterwards."

"What the hell are you talking about ?! Where are Cooper and Janey ?!"

All his attempts to calm her down seemed in vain, Sebastien ended up giving her a sedative, with the help of his driver. No doubt she was transported to the shelter while she was sleeping, put in a hibernation box next to her "uncle".

A very nice robot sounding like him was the first thing she saw when she woke up.

He cheerfully announced to her that she had been sleeping for over 200 years, that her uncle had unfortunately passed away, having woken up long before her, but having left a message for her.

"My dear niece, thank you for your patience and your trust. We always hear funny and stupid things these days, like the fact that I can no longer offer you flowers. But they are growing outside, I hear. And a little girl is waiting somewhere. There are fewer eyes when it's dark."

The message wasn't hard to decode. An apology, first, but mostly the assertion that it was possible to get out of the shelter without too much danger, if she waited for the right moment. Apparently, Janey Howard hadn't been placed in Vault 93.

Getting out wasn't that complicated. In fact, Y/N didn't even have to play the secret agent, she asked Mr. Handy, who passed her request to the overseer, who accepted it without resistance. She was able to take food, clothes and a weapon, before leaving, receiving encouragement from everyone, even if they didn't see who she was at all.

In any case, she was one less mouth to feed.

The real problem was surviving outside, and finding Janey. Y/N was not a fighter. She understood that there had been nuclear explosions, that the world was destroyed, now populated by dangerous creatures and unbalanced survivors.

But there were still good people. A woman showed her the way to Los Angeles, or what was left of it. A man advised her to avoid the North, explaining to her what the Raiders and the Deathclaws were.

And a strange couple offered to accompany them, to prevent her from being killed in her sleep or because of the mines.

Well, the young woman offered, smiling and polite, dressed like the inhabitants of the shelter and wearing a pitboy. She seemed genuinely delighted to meet someone like her, murmuring that it would be a change from her grumpy friend.

The said companion clearly did not come from a shelter. The radiation had dug into his skin. Y/N had heard of them, these ghouls. This one wasn't very talkative, his face half hidden by a cowboy hat, staring at her with a strange, almost shocked look.

"Don't pay attention to him, he's not good with people." said the girl whose name was Lucy. "I don't even know his name. We had a rough start, but he's calm now. We're a team !"

"Oh. Okay. Nice to meet you."

Lucy shook her hand. The Ghoul continued to look at her without saying anything, before continuing on his way. For the girl, it was a good sign, he hadn't ordered her to leave or caught her with his lasso.

Since things had changed, Y/N accepted that this could indeed be good news, but she followed them mostly because she didn't really have a choice.

#fallout #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul

33 notes · View notes