#this really should be going in my diary instead of here

[purplecelestial-buddy]

Google, what to do if a friend that stopped talking to me comes back and I'm extremely excited but I don't wanna act like a puppy wagging its tail cuz truth to be told, them randomly showing me the cold shoulder did hurt a lot and while I want our relationship to return to what it once was I know I should thread with cautiousness because they have... An explosive personality?

Asking for a friend lol

[trafficpan-ic]

My second therapist is tumblr

[fingertipsmp3]

One of the things no one really talks about irt injury rehabilitation is how the hell you keep track of all the exercises you have to do, and the persistent worry that you’ll forget to do one or do one slightly wrong and somehow fuck up your own recovery because you didn’t bounce your heel enough times

[thecherrygod]

...sometimes i remember my ex with who i broke up with when i was 15 and how some things he said didnt sound very cis guy of him like there was some clear gnc to him which is partially why i liked him at the time i wont lie lmao one of the things was like "if i was a girl id like to be called this name" and he refused to be called his first name as much as he could, he was okay with his middle name... which when shortened its gender neutral (and its.. sort of the name i took for myself when first realizing im trans, almost.) and his name on fb wasnt even a name either it was a type of mythical being.

so i remembered some of this stuff and a bit more and im like "ok i am still mad at him for sure but what is he doing hows it going is he still gnc is there something else going on i need to know"

i dont exactly have answers i wont lie but i did find him. with a name that isnt any ive heard him consider when we knew each other.

its. the first two letters of my birth name. irl i go by the first letter of it.

[kayewrite]

Want so Bad

genre:; fluff and (..) word count: 3.9K

Minho x reader! Minho x fem. reader!!

wherein: Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.

(an: this is my favorite and i had fun writing while listening to Minho and Jisung's "Want so Bad" again and again and again. so i hope you enjoy reading it!! a comment, like, and reblog is very much appreciated)

"Why are you here?"

You roll your eyes, barely glancing up at the person standing in front of you, your voice dripping with boredom.

"I'm here because I miss you," he replies, winking at you in that infuriating way that always makes you cringe.

You’re in your living room, buried in your textbooks, when this boy suddenly appears in front of you, as if someone summoned him from nowhere.

Minho.

He’s your brother Jisung’s best friend in the entire world—or so they claim. There’s a three-year gap between you and them. They’re in their final year of college, while you’re just a freshman.

You would give him a proper introduction, but the truth is, you can't stand him. You’ve hated him ever since you were 15. He and Jisung have always loved teasing you, making your life miserable whenever they could.

"Jisung! Your favorite family member is here!" you shout, unable to handle Minho’s relentless teasing any longer. Sure, you’re in college now and supposed to be more mature (or so you tell yourself), but after years of dealing with them, you’ve become accustomed to hating their antics.

"I wasn’t even part of the family… but I guess I will be after I marry one of the family members," Minho smirks, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Then go marry my brother," you retort, your expression as nonchalant as ever.

He laughs and casually snatches the book you were studying. You’re so used to his flirty teasing by now that it barely fazes you.

It all started back in high school when Jisung teased you relentlessly, convinced you had a crush on Minho. He found it on your pink diary and read it out loud, complete with the cheesy music that played whenever you opened it. (Well, you did have a crush on Minho back then, but it faded over time.)

Jisung teased you so much that you cried your eyes out, and then he told Minho all about it, sparking years of torment.

"Oh no, my sister might actually ace her exams now that she’s seen her only inspiration," Jisung chimes in as he walks down the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt. You roll your eyes at him too.

"I think I should come over more often. I might just make your sister the top student," Minho adds with a grin.

There goes your peaceful day.

But thankfully, they don’t bother you too much, as they soon move to the kitchen to eat. You try to refocus on your studies, but chemistry is giving you a hard time, so you pop in your earbuds and pull up a tutorial on YouTube. Just as you’re getting into it, a glass of orange juice and a muffin appear on your table (or rather, on top of your notebook).

"Eat, little devil. Food helps you focus more," Jisung says, placing the snacks down.

You mumble a quick thanks, thinking he’ll leave, but instead, he plops down on the couch behind you. You’re sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, your books and notes spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Then, without a care in the world, Jisung props his legs up on the table, acting as if your things are invisible.

You were almost touched by your brother’s gesture… but never mind.

"Yah!" You glare at him, but he just shrugs and turns on the TV, putting on a movie. A minute later, Minho joins him.

"What are you studying, kid?" Minho asks, even though he’s already glanced at your book.

"None of your business."

"Oh, is that a new subject? I’ve never heard of it before."

Argh.

"You should help her, Minho. I heard from her professor that she scored low on a quiz," Jisung says, his tone annoyingly casual.

How does he know that?

"Really?" Minho leans forward, peering at what you’re writing. "Well, chemistry is indeed tough."

"Help her out. You always got high scores in that subject back in the day."

You’re listening to them while half-heartedly writing, your earbuds now turned down low. You’re trying to pretend they’re just ghosts, but hearing them talk about your struggles in chemistry makes you want to join the conversation.

"Sure, if you give me that game console," Minho quips.

"On second thought, I think my sister will manage just fine."

Arghhh.

You can’t take it anymore. You gather up your things, smack your brother’s leg, and stomp upstairs.

Later, you’re back in your study area, trying to focus again when there’s a knock on your door. It can only be one of them since the three of you are the only ones at home. Your parents are working, even on a Sunday.

"What?!" you yell, your irritation clear.

You’re about to open the door when it swings open on its own, revealing Minho.

"You shouldn’t talk like that to your tutor," he says, flicking your forehead.

"Ow!"

Tutor? Jisung must’ve given him the console.

You don’t bother complaining because, aside from being tired… well, yeah, you’re just too tired.

"You should listen well, okay? If you don’t, we won’t get married," Minho teases, treating you like a child as always. You hate it, but you’re too drained to argue.

"Okay." You roll your eyes for the ninth time and settle in to listen as he starts to explain.

The tutorial is full of bickering and Minho’s relentless teasing, but unexpectedly, you finally understand the material. Your questions are answered, and for the first time in a while, you feel a bit of relief.

"Thank you," you say as you bid him goodbye.

"Goodbye. Let me know when you get home. And say hi to your baby cats for me," your brother says, waving Minho off.

"How did your chemistry exam go?"

You’re happy with your results and you share them with Minho.

"I got an almost perfect score!"

"Really?" He messes up your hair. "Then you should thank me. You owe me."

"I’ll get Jisung’s console for you," you joke

Minho is at your house again. He says they have a group study session, but Jisung isn’t home yet. You both settled into the living room, the hum of the TV in the background as Minho lounged on the couch, his legs stretched out comfortably. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, your study materials spread out on the coffee table.

“So, what else do you need help with, little genius?” Minho teased, nudging your shoulder with his foot.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I don’t need your help again, Mr. Top Student. I can manage just fine on my own.”

Minho chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Sure, you can. But remember, you owe me for that almost perfect score. I think I might start charging for my tutoring services.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “You know, you’re pretty impressive. Balancing all this studying and still managing to have a sense of humor.”

You felt a small flutter in your stomach at his words, a sensation that caught you off guard. You quickly masked it with a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Minho.”

He grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Who says I’m flattering you? I’m just stating facts.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words got caught in your throat when you met his gaze. There was something different in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. The usual playful glint was still there, but beneath it was a warmth that made you feel… special.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the notes in front of you, trying to shake off the unexpected feeling. “Anyway, where’s this group of yours? I thought you were supposed to be studying.”

Minho shrugged, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. “They’re running late. I guess they’re not as eager to study as I am.”

“Right, because you’re so eager,” you muttered, the sarcasm clear in your voice.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and familiar. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you. You’re much more fun than Jisung.”

Your heart fluttered again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep your cool. “You’re just saying that because I actually study, unlike my brother.”

“True,” he agreed, his tone light. “But also because you’re interesting. I never know what you’re going to say next.”

You were about to respond when you heard the front door open and Jisung’s voice echo through the house. “I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

You quickly straightened up, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment that your brother had arrived. Minho, however, just smiled, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “We’ll continue this later.”

Your breath hitched at the closeness, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. As Minho pulled back with a wink, you felt the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Jisung entered the living room, oblivious to the tension that had suddenly filled the air. “Hey, what are you two up to?”

“Just studying,” Minho replied casually, as if nothing had happened, though the smirk on his face told a different story.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, just studying.”

But as you glanced at Minho, who was now chatting with your brother like everything was normal, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you had just shifted in a way you hadn’t expected. And as much as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, for the first time, Minho’s teasing had made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand.

You were walking through the university courtyard, your thoughts scattered as you mentally planned your study schedule for the rest of the day. It had been a busy week, and you were looking forward to some peace and quiet when you suddenly spotted Minho across the way. He was chatting animatedly with a girl, her laughter ringing out as he carried a stack of books for her.

You instinctively slowed your pace, your eyes lingering on them for a moment longer than you intended. The girl was pretty, with a bright smile and an easygoing vibe that made her seem instantly likable. She playfully nudged Minho with her shoulder, and he grinned back at her, that familiar teasing spark in his eyes.

For a second, you considered changing your route, avoiding the interaction altogether. But then you stopped yourself. Why would you do that? It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t like you cared who Minho was talking to, or how close they seemed. Right?

So you took a deep breath and kept walking, your expression carefully neutral as you approached them. As you got closer, Minho caught sight of you, and his grin widened.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he called out, his voice full of mock surprise. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Saw my handsome face and had to come over.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Oh please, I just happened to be walking by. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The girl next to him laughed at your banter, and you noticed the way she lightly slapped his arm, a gesture that spoke of familiarity. It was clear they were close. Your eyes flickered to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of something—what was it? Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, you quickly pushed it down.

Minho noticed your glance and, as if reading your mind, raised an eyebrow. “Ah, sorry. Where are my manners? This is Seoyun, a friend from my class. Seoyun, this is my little genius here,” he added with a teasing smirk.

You gave her a polite nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at the word “friend.” “Nice to meet you, Seoyun.”

“Nice to meet you too!” she replied cheerfully. “Minho’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re quite the brainiac.”

You shot Minho a look, and he just grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep him in line,” you said, your tone light but with a hint of sarcasm.

Seoyun laughed again, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they seemed together. It was… unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But you weren’t about to dwell on it.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” you said, glancing at your watch. “Places to be, things to study.”

“Always so busy,” Minho said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “But you know, all work and no play…”

“…keeps you out of trouble,” you finished for him with a smirk. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”

Seoyun smiled at you again, giving a little wave. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully, we’ll see each other around.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, waving back before turning to continue on your way.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, just once, to see Minho and Seoyun laughing together as they continued their conversation. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in your chest, brushing it off as nothing.

‘She must be his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself, trying to sound nonchalant even in your own mind. And then you shrugged, forcing yourself to focus on your day ahead. ‘Why would I care?’

But even as you walked away, you couldn’t quite shake the image of them together, the way they seemed to fit so naturally. And for the first time, Minho’s teasing didn’t just annoy you—it made you feel something deeper, something you weren’t ready to face just yet.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the voice calling your name. It was Jeongin, your classmate.

“We got paired for the presentation,” he reminded you. Oh! You remembered now, probably too occupied with other subjects to focus on this. “If you don’t mind, can we start after class? That way we’ll finish early and can focus on other things.”

“Sure,” you agreed, appreciating his practical suggestion.

“Great. We should head to a coffee shop after this.”

After class, you walked together, discussing the presentation details. Jeongin had some good ideas, and you found yourself easily slipping into a productive conversation. The atmosphere between you two was relaxed, and soon you arrived at the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” Jeongin asked as you both approached the counter.

“Latte, please,” you replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

As Jeongin went to order, you scanned the room, your eyes landing on a familiar figure. Minho. He was with a group of friends, casually chatting. When he looked up, his gaze met yours. He smirked at you, and you were about to wave, but then he broke the eye contact and turned his attention back to the person next to him. You scanned the group quickly, noticing your brother wasn’t there.

You tried to focus on your work, but you kept catching Minho glancing at you from the corner of your eye. For the first time, you wondered what he thought of seeing you with another guy. The idea made you smirk a little, enjoying the small twist of the situation. Minho, always so sure of himself, might just be a little thrown off by this.

Jeongin returned with your latte and his own drink, setting them down on the table.

“Ready to get started?” he asked, pulling out his notes.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, pushing the thoughts of Minho to the back of your mind—for now, at least.

You were studying in the living room, the soft murmur of a video tutorial explaining organic chemistry filling the space. You were too focused to notice Minho entering your house until his voice broke through your concentration.

“Hey, my favorite person,” he greeted with a playful smile.

You glanced around, looking behind you and to the sides. “My brother’s not here,” you stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you are the one I meant. My favorite person.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “If Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were people, they’d be your favorites.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his tone light.

You returned to your studies, but Minho didn’t leave. Instead, he plopped down on the couch, stretching out as if he had all the time in the world. You tried to ignore him, but it wasn’t long before he broke the silence again.

“So, who was that guy you were with at the café earlier?” His tone was casual, but you could feel the underlying curiosity.

You hesitated, not sure how to respond. You didn’t have to be honest, but something made you want to see how he would react. “He’s a suitor,” you said nonchalantly, not looking up from your notebook.

Minho’s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly masked it, leaning back with a smirk. “A suitor, huh? I should tell your brother. Maybe he’ll confiscate your phone so you can focus on studying.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not a kid, Minho. I can decide who I want to spend time with.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, really? You’re still just a freshman. You should focus on your studies instead of getting distracted by things like relationships.”

Your irritation grew. “What about you? You’re in a relationship with that girl you were walking with, but I can’t be in one?”

Minho’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself. He knew you were jealous, and he had to hide the smile threatening to break through. “So, you were jealous?” he teased, leaning forward.

You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, and you stood up abruptly, gathering your things. “I’m not jealous,” you snapped, turning on your heel to head back to your room.

As you walked away, Minho couldn’t help but smile. He knew you were, even if you wouldn’t admit it, and that only made him like you more.

Life continues as usual, with your brother Jisung and Minho still finding every opportunity to tease you. Tomorrow is their graduation day, and as you walk into your brother's room to borrow a math book, you decide to ask him a question that's been on your mind.

"Jisung, what’s your plan after graduation?"

You’re genuinely curious, even if you’d never admit it to his face. Despite all the sibling rivalry, you’re proud of him for making it this far.

"Probably end up unemployed," he replies with a shrug.

You give him a deadpan look. What answer did you expect, anyway?

"Obviously, I’ll take the board exam first, then start job hunting," he says while folding his clothes. Then he glances at you, squinting. "You’re not asking because you’re curious about Minho, are you?"

Yeah…no!

You quickly throw a pillow at him, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Do you really think my world revolves around him?" Jisung catches the pillow and smirks, clearly not convinced.

"Even if you don't ask about Minho, I'll tell you anyway. Remember when I told you to spend more time with him? You should’ve listened, because after graduation, he’s going abroad. There’s a job offer waiting for him."

Oh…

You manage a nonchalant nod, but as you leave his room, the news weighs heavily on your mind.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t help but replay Jisung’s words over and over. Minho is leaving. The thought sends a strange ache through your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that his absence won’t matter—but deep down, you know it will.

Graduation day arrives in a whirlwind of excitement. Your parents are there, beaming with pride, and you stand among the crowd, clutching a bouquet of flowers. You watch as your brother and his friends, including Minho, happily pose for group pictures, congratulating each other and hugging in celebration of finally finishing their studies. The joy is infectious, but there's a tinge of sadness in your heart.

Minho is leaving.

The thought lingers, even as you force yourself to focus on the present moment.

"Hey, little devil, take a picture of us," your brother calls out to you. You roll your eyes at the nickname but comply, grabbing the Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. It is his day, after all.

You snap the picture, capturing their bright smiles and laughter. The moment is perfect, but it tugs at your heartstrings.

Minho is leaving.

No matter how much you’ve pretended to hate him, the truth is, you’re going to miss him more than you’d like to admit.

"Are these my flowers?" your brother asks, reaching for the bouquet in your hands. You quickly hide it behind your back.

"They’re not yours! Mom has your flowers," you retort, giving him a playful glare.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief, probably know what you are planning. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Just then, Minho approaches you, his usual teasing grin in place. "Can you take a picture of me? So you’ll have a souvenir picture of me," he said with a wink.

Pushing aside the urge to roll your eyes. Today, you’re happy for him, even if it’s bittersweet.

"Ha ha ha, I’m honored," you reply with mock sarcasm, but you can’t help laughing with him. You snap the picture, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

"We should take a picture together too," he says suddenly, taking the camera from your hands. He hands it to one of his classmates and stands beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. You try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, secretly pleased to have a picture with him. You’re going to miss him.

After the picture is taken, you slowly extend the bouquet toward him. "These are for you. Congratulations."

Minho’s eyes light up with surprise and genuine happiness as he takes the flowers. "It’s my first time receiving flowers. I’m blushing," he says with a laugh. Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Wait, I need to think about it."

He presses a finger to his temple, pretending to be deep in thought.

You slap his arm lightly, laughing. "It’s a farewell gift, you idiot."

"Wait, you should give me more time to think," he says, closing his eyes dramatically. After a few seconds, he opens them with a playful glint. "Yes. I will be your boyfriend."

You freeze, caught off guard. What?

"So from now on, you’re my girlfriend," he declares, and before you can react, he leans in and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

Your mind spins as his words sink in. "I promised myself I’d wait until you graduate, but I can’t help it—especially since I’m going far away, someone might take you from me." he says softly and laughs, messing with your hair. "So wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll come back to you."

It takes a moment, but you finally manage a small nod, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho smiles back, his eyes filled with warmth.

You realize then,

more than ever,

that you want him

just as much as he wants you.

[randomshyperson]

Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.

Wanda + hugs + no. 24

Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.

The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.

Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.

Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.

She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.

But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.

Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.

Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.

She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.

The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.

"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."

Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.

"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”

“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”

She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while." 

"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."

She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.

But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.

Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.

"I really missed you, witchy." 

She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

[zephyrchama]

The Most Popular Book

(Obey Me! brothers and reader)

"Oh? Levi, what are you doing in here?"

Asmodeus had just returned home after a long, busy day. Brand name bags adorned his arm and he still had sunglasses on. While en route to his own room, the surprised demon happened to find your bedroom door wide open. The person brazenly rummaging around inside was not you, but Leviathan.

The Avatar of Envy was opening drawers, sliding his hands across shelves, and turning everything over. He jumped at being caught, but quickly regained composure upon seeing who it was, and with clear annoyance said, "I left my charger in here and can't find it."

Exhausted but never one to pass up on quality bonding time, Asmodeus decided to make this his business, too. "Should you really be in here when they're not home? Won't they get mad?"

"I'm just getting my charger and leaving, that's it." Leviathan was grumpier than usual when his D.D.D. battery ran out. He started sifting through your bed sheets for the lost cable, tossing pillows onto the floor and dragging the blanket off in case you used it and the cord had been tucked in somewhere.

Amid the plush bedding, something hard audibly hit the carpet. Leviathan and Asmodeus both turned towards it, expecting to find the square end of a plug. Instead, the culprit was an unassuming little book that had fallen out of your pillowcase.

"Is that a dirty book?" Asmodeus asked in delight. "Hurry and open it, I wanna see what they're into."

"I don't think so? It's not flashy, there's nothing on the back. Don't those usually have pictures all over?" Leviathan picked it up and turned the unassuming tome over. "Nothing on the front, either."

He cracked it open to a random page, spent five seconds reading it, and had all color drain from his face. He slammed the book shut with both hands and tried to shove it back in the pillowcase. "I-i-it's nothing. This is nothing. I think I'm done, I'll find my c-c... cabl... I'll find it later."

This would not fly with Asmodeus. This just made him more curious. "What is it?"

Asmodeus lunged and snatched the pillow from out of Leviathan's hands, who was still too stunned to react properly. All he could do was protest loudly as Asmodeus victoriously retrieved the mystery book and opened it.

He squealed. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Put it back! Idiot!" Leviathan shouted.

No commotion in the House of Lamentation could go unnoticed for long. Other residents were already on their way to scold them for being loud. Belphegor and Satan were the first to arrive, disgruntled that their meeting in the library had been disturbed.

"Can you keep it down?" the youngest reprimanded. "We're in the middle of something."

"I can't hear myself think over your nonsense," Satan added. However, he was quick to notice how unusual it was for the Avatar of Lust to be reading of his own accord. Not a magazine, but an actual book was in Asmodeus' grip. This piqued Satan's interest. "What do you have there?"

"Nothing," Leviathan insisted. His desperate attempts to pilfer it from Asmodeus made it very clear that this was not 'nothing.'

"You're not going to believe this," Asmodeus giggled.

Beelzebub, Mammon, and Lucifer just so happened to come around the corner at the same time. Beelzebub, who had been doing his own thing l, was glad to see where his twin had gone off to and stayed silent to watch the mess unfold.

Mammon was acting like a high and mighty big brother ready to punish his silly little siblings for acting out. He had an oddly serious air about him. He was followed closely by Lucifer, who had been in the middle of lecturing Mammon and wanted to quickly get back to that punishment. They arrived right in time to hear Asmodeus announce, "Levi found a diary!"

It took mere seconds for everyone to put two and two together - a diary was found. They were in your room. It obviously belonged to none other than you. It appeared you were actively using this diary. The diary they now had access to.

"Hey now! Give me that!" Mammon commanded, shouldering past Satan to confiscate the diary. His ears were pink. "What are you all thinkin'? You're not s'pposed to be lookin' at that!"

Belphegor was quick to quip, "I suppose you want us to give it to you for safe keeping?"

"That's right!" Mammon nodded. "I'll hold on to this until they come home so none of you can read it."

"And you'll get to read it all by yourself. You're so obvious." Satan crossed his arms and glared at Mammon, who shrugged.

Lucifer was next to pluck it from Mammon's grip. "If anyone is holding on to this for safe keeping, it will be me."

"We should put it back where it was," Beelzebub said. "That way, they won't find out and get embarrassed. Or mad."

Leviathan latched on to this idea quickly. "Yes! Exactly! Beel's right! Let's just put it back!" He shook the pillowcase, ready to put things back to how they were, eager for this situation to end.

"What were you doing in here to begin with?" Lucifer asked, full of suspicion. He eyed the messy shelves and floor. "You know this room is off-limits when they're not home."

"Yeah, Levi! What's wrong with you?" Mammon shouted, glad to pin blame on somebody else for once.

"I was looking for my charger! That's it! Perfectly innocent!" Leviathan insisted.

Lucifer sighed and said, "you should have waited for them to return. Now look at this mess. I expect you to clean this all up before-"

"Hey, Satan! No fair!" Asmodeus yelled. At some point during the verbal squabble, Satan had managed to get his fingers on the coveted book and was now skimming its pages covered in your handwriting. Lucifer narrowed his eyes and frowned as a menacing disposition took hold.

"We should read it together," Belphegor said as Mammon tackled Satan to the ground in an attempt to wrestle the diary away. "Somebody read it aloud to us."

"No! We couldn't possibly...!" Leviathan's resolve was wavering. "Could we...? No! We shouldn't... Unless they wrote something about me? Maybe?"

"We should put it back," Beelzebub repeated, squeezing his hands together nervously. "I don't think they want us reading that. If they want us to know something, they would just tell us."

Nobody was paying attention because at the same time, in between punches to the face, Satan confirmed that, "they wrote about all of us. I don't know what, though."

Belphegor and Asmodeus jumped into the fray, wanting to get their hands on it at any cost. Who knew what could be written about them inside of that book? Belphegor grabbed Satan from the back as Asmodeus kicked Mammon's leg aside, trying to snatch the tome from above. Mammon snarled and proclaimed, "That diary's mine! Y'hear? All mine!"

One by one, demon forms began to take over. Your possessions scattered around the room and rolled under the bed as tails and leathery wings whipped through the air. The edges of your diary got dented and the page edges became scratched, even though whoever was in possession of it at any given time was fiercely protective of it.

Belphegor had the book pressed against his chest and was curled defensively around it while Lucifer picked him up and shook the youngest brother like an empty bag. Beelzebub did not like this. He side-stepped over Leviathan, who was preoccupied with attempting to bite Lucifer's ankle and shake Mammon off his tail, and body-checked the eldest into dropping his twin. Asmodeus and Satan were ready and waiting, clawing to reclaim the diary.

Everyone was howling and shouting in the world's most violent game of keep-away. It was a jarring sight. You froze in your tracks at the doorway. Limbs tangled together, feathers and scales flew everywhere, there were several fresh dents in the floor. A really powerful "stay" was going to be needed if you were to put a stop to the situation. At the very least, it was going to be a doozy to write about in your diary.

[csuitebitches]

On Being Well Spoken

I recently received a request about posting something regarding being well spoken.

Something you need to realise is that you’re not going to become well-spoken overnight. You need to practice on people. You need to SPEAK.

I used to stutter so badly that I could barely speak a whole sentence.

Flash forward a few years. I pitched my start up in front of a crowd, I joined Model United Nations in high school and college, I’ve been invited to speak on my entrepreneurial experience by some top universities in my country. It’s taken a lot to get here. And I’m still not where I want to be.

1. Apps to track progress and help you get better at public speaking

An app that you can use: “Speeko.”

I used to use this, it is beginner friendly and you can improve your public speaking skills as well.

2. Use topic generators

Go online and look up a topic generator. Generate a random topic, video yourself speaking on that topic. Don’t give yourself time to prepare anything - read the topic and start speaking. Set a time limit - you’ll realise that speaking for even 2 minutes can be quite difficult at times.

Not only does this make you realise that you may have limited language skills, but it will also make you realise exactly where you’re falling behind. Note down things in a journal.

- is grammar the issue?

- Lack of vocabulary?

- Too many filler sounds?

- Knowledge gap?

This is also a great idea if you’re at an intermediate level of learning a language/ polishing a language. Do this everyday and maintain a diary on your improvement.

3. Reading out loud

Select a news article or any article. Read out loud, slowly and steadily. Pronounce every syllable calmly.

A two minute read should take 5 minutes to read out loud. That’s how slow you should go. Not more than 4-5 words per breath.

Your tongue needs to get used to different syllables and sounds. Practice will help.

4. Talk in real life

Talk to anyone and everyone whenever you can.

Ask your barista how their day is going.

Ask your work or university security if they’ve had a good day and if they ate today.

Chat with your taxi driver about their life. I always start with asking them if they are from the city we’re travelling in. Even if you’re from that city, act like a tourist. Where are the best eateries? The conversation eventually goes to personal questions. How many children do they have, and what do they do? What do they like about the city?

You’ll learn the art of small talk only through practice. No book or guide can actually prepare you. You have to practice, practice and practice.

5. Diaphragm breathing

Diaphragm breathing is very important. Look up some YouTube videos for reference. You essentially breathe from your tummy (stomach goes in and out; not chest going up and down). This is a great calming exercise too.

6. Stuttering tongue/ jaw exercise videos

These are great because they really do prep your jaw and tongue well. The videos could include tongue stretches, placing your tongue on your palette correctly, etc. Search on YouTube.

7. Body posture

You really need to work on your posture too. Sit up straight. Back, STRAIGHT. Chin up, shoulders relaxed. Something as simple as posture can change your level of confidence.

8. Pranayama

A yoga exercise for breathing. You can find a guided video on YouTube for sure.

9. Vocabulary

Invest your time in expanding your vocabulary. There’s enough apps and games that can help you with that, if you aren’t fond of reading. A sign of being well spoken is having great vocabulary.

Start by looking up the synonyms of everyday words.

“I’m upset”

- how many different words can you find for upset?

“I had a crazy day today”

- one can easily use “hectic”, “chaotic” “lively” instead

10. Idioms

Idioms, phrases, sayings - look up common idioms in your language of choice. Aim to use at least 3 new idioms on 3 separate occasions in a week while you speak. You need to understand when and where you can use the idioms in your vocabulary.

11. Knowing when to switch

You can’t talk like a 50 year old heiress to a 10 year old child; you need to get down to their level.

If someone is clearly not a native speaker and is struggling to put words together, don’t use difficult words around them.

If you’re meeting with someone high profile, refrain from using slang.

The best speakers know when to switch their level of language.

You can’t use one singular type of speaking with everyone. You need to understand that there is a time and place for everything - and you’ll be able to switch like a pro only when you actually speak and start gaining experience.

[rassicas]

Marina's Dev Diaries: localization differences

yeah so I just read through all of Marina's Dev Diaries in Japanese while cross checking it to English localization, just to see how faithfully translated it is and.... GREAT NEWS there's like no significant changes! Like there's the expected minor moving things and wording it different to flow well in english of course, but in terms of overall meaning and characterization its very faithful. I'll cover some minor changes I found but like. again these are so minor it doesn't really matter.

4th Entry Localization: "Poor Pearl doesn't know what to do with a free moment anymore. I'm always catching her bouncing with anticipation."

JP: "Pearl is always bouncing from side to side whenever she has a free moment" This is a reference to Pearl's side hops she did in octo expansion to get hyped and charge her special...this was localized to her "warming up her vocal cords" for the sake of story and the english version just refuses to acknowledge the side hops thing which is. minor inkling biology tidbit at most but eh whatever

8th Entry localization: "I'll handle system management myself! And I think user guidance would be a great fit for Pearl."

imo in JP marina seems more certain and enthused about pearl being in charge of user guidance? I considered not adding this to this post it's barely noteworthy. pearlina crumbs ig

8th Entry Localization: "All that experience making training stages from my days as a tutor at that training program is about to pay off!" JP specifies that Marina tutored at a Takozones training program. What's really annoying is that Takozones are just called something like "Rival Octoling" or "Enemy Octoling" or just "Octoling" in english, but they're supposed to be a specific rank of elite female octoling soldiers. this is just a longtime issue with how muddied octarian classifications are between english and jp lol

12th Entry Localization: "Pearl is joining us too. She doesn't seem to get what it's all about, but she's usually down for whatever. Together, the two of us will make sure Eight gets through it safe!" JP: "Pearl is joining us too. With her being like "I don't really get it, but 'cuz it sounds like fun I'll go!", us two will keep Eight safe!"

This is a super minor change but it's cute getting a quote from pearl where she sounds actually hyped for it vs a "yeah ig shes down for it"

Acht's Letter 1 Localization: ""You should be diligent and dedicated, like a true Octarian!" I heard it so many times that it turned into white noise."

I just wanted to share a pun here that doesn't translate instead of "white noise" Acht says an equivalent idiom of "I got calluses on my ears (from hearing the same thing over and over)" The word for "callus" is homophonous with "octopus", tako. lol octopus jokes

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (12/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Friendships are very important. It's good that you have new ones (who you can share things with).

Warnings: FLIRTING, PINING (you’ve been warned!), Charles is sweet, a bit of angst (talking of cheating, manipulation, ex-boxfriend)

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: sorry for the delay! I love you! feedback is appreciated!

Except for the warm light of the floor lamp in the corner behind you and the white light from the kitchen, the apartment is dark. On the TV in front of you, you see a still from The Vampire Diaries and the white blanket on the dark blue couch next to you is crumpled, as if it had been used only recently. Sounds come from the kitchen, glasses clink together, and the refrigerator door opens and closes before the kitchen light is turned off again. 

"I'm glad you're here," Kika says as she comes back into the living room with two glasses of water, "but since you called, I'm afraid the reason isn't very positive." She places the two glasses on the coffee table in front of you and sits down next to you. 

Calling Kika was the only logical option. Of course, you could have called Charles, but he's had such an incredibly lousy day and he should be at the club with his friends instead of helping you with your problems. Besides, you don't want to burden him with something he simply can't solve. Something neither of you can't solve. 

You pull your knees to your chest. "I didn't mean to bother you, I really didn't. Especially because you said you had to get up early tomorrow and I'm so sorry to just barge in, but I just didn't know where to go."

Kika puts her hand on your knee and squeezes it gently. "I told you that you could call me anytime. And I meant it." She reaches for the cozy blanket between you and spreads it over your legs. And even though you're already warm, you pull the blanket closer to you. 

"I know, but-"

"No buts," she interrupts you. Her gaze is gentle as she rubs your arm. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

You'd love to hog the cozy blanket and wrap yourself so tightly in it that you can barely breathe. Most of all, you'd like to just go to sleep and forget what happened. But you called Kika to give you shelter while your ex waits outside your apartment for you to come home. 

You owe her an answer.

"After Lando walked me to my car," you begin, and Kika raises her eyebrows with a grin. You roll your eyes. "Stop that. So. I drove home after that, and when I turned into the street, I saw my ex's car."

Kika narrows her eyes a little and tilts her head, as if she doesn't understand why your ex-boyfriend's appearance ruined your night. "Aaaaaand we don't like your ex?" she asks. 

You shake your head vehemently. "Definitely not."

Your new friend smooths the blanket over her legs. "What happened?"

"The better question would be: What didn't happen?" You reach for your water glass and take a big gulp. "Do you want the short version or the long version?"

The way Kika leans against the armrest of the couch and pulls the blanket up to her chin, looking at you with huge eyes, you don't need a verbatim answer.

You slide around a bit on the couch to get a little more comfortable, and cross your legs to sit cross-legged. "When I moved here to work a few months ago, I met Raphael at a photo shoot and we hit it off right away," you begin to tell her. Kika soaks up every word as if it was water and she was a sponge. "We went on a few dates and at one point he asked me to be his girlfriend and at first everything was really perfect. He was an absolute gentleman, his friends became my friends and we all got along so great."

"That sounds like there's a big fat "but" following that," Kika interjects and you tap your index finger against your nose. 

"We were together for some time and everything was okay until he, um..." You don't know how to finish the sentence without making your ex look like the biggest asshole in the world. Although he definitely deserves that. You wring your hands. 

"Spit it out, you'll feel better."

You rub your palms over your cheeks and run your fingers through your hair once before closing your eyes. "He pressured me into sleeping with him."

Kika slaps her hand in front of her mouth. "Please tell me you didn't sleep with him." She leans forward and puts her hands on your shoulders to shake you. "Tell me you didn't fuck that asshole!"

You shake your head and look down at your hands in your lap. "Of course I didn't. I'm not stupid." You purse your lips and look up at the ceiling. "I thought I loved him, and I was this close to caving in." You hold your thumb and index finger close together.

"And then?"

"Then he slept with someone else."

Kika leans back and presses her left fist into her right palm to make her knuckles crack. "I'm going to kill that motherfucker."

"It's okay," you counter, but Kika just raises an eyebrow. 

"It's definitely not okay, Y/N."

"Of course it's not okay," you confirm her, ruffling your hair, "But I can't help it, and I broke up with him right away, too. Pressuring me for sex is one thing," Kika throws a pillow at you, "a mega super duper shitty thing, but cheating on me and trying to manipulate me into sleeping with him as a result - that's where I draw the line."

Only that's where you draw the line?!" Kika puts her face in her hands and shakes her head. "Okay, okay." She takes a deep breath. "So you broke up with him. What happened next?"

"He wouldn't leave me alone. He keeps calling, trying to convince me to get back with him."

"I hope you told him that's never going to happen and he can kiss your ass."

You pucker your mouth a little. "Not really. He called yesterday and Charles took the call."

Kika grabs a pillow and wraps her arms around it like she's watching a gruesome horror movie and not listening to your ex-boyfriend problems. "He did not."

You purse your lips. "He did."

Kika bites the pillow. "And then?"

"Well, he answered the phone with „this is her roomate“."

"And now you're afraid that's exactly why Raphael was standing outside your apartment? Do you think he would want to hurt you or Charles?" she asks, taking a sip of her water. 

You shrug your shoulders. "He was never violent, not at all. But by now I don't even recognize him. It's like he's done a 180."

Inside, you're struggling with yourself. Confiding all this to Kika feels right and wrong at the same time. After all, you've only known each other for a few hours. And if you weren't hogging her couch and she was kind enough to let you have it, you certainly wouldn't have spilled your guts either. 

You're not particularly good at it either, which is why you usually handle problems yourself and work them out with yourself. But something about this matter tells you that's not possible this time. But that doesn't mean you won't try to handle it all on your own.

Kika slides closer to you and clasps your hands with hers. "Did you tell Charles about this?"

You shake your head. "Not all of it. I filled him in on the circumstances after I kicked his ass for answering my phone."

Kika has to grin. "Very good." She strokes the back of your hand with her thumb. Why are her hands so soft? "But don't you think you should tell him about it? Especially since Raphael is waiting for you, or rather you, outside your apartment now?"

She's not necessarily wrong. For sure, it would be smarter to tell your roommate about it. But Charles has a lot on his plate. Burdening him with your problems is the last thing you want. 

You clear your throat and look towards the TV, where Elena and Damon are dancing together. Kika notices your look and also that you don't want to talk about the subject anymore, and you're very grateful that she doesn't push you. 

"Are you Team Delena or Stelena?" she asks, reaching for the remote. 

"Team Klaroline."

Kika presses play and the characters move again. "The only right answer."

The two of you continue watching the show together and talking until the two of you actually fall asleep, snuggled into the covers, shoulder to shoulder. 

Your vibrating cell phone, which is next to you on the couch, wakes you up, and without looking to see who's calling you, you hit the green button.

"Hello?" you ask sleepily, carefully pushing Kika's head off your shoulder so you can sit up properly. As your spine cracks, you screw up your face.

"Y/N?" someone almost yells into the phone, and you have to hold the phone away from your ear to keep from going deaf. "Where the hell are you?"

A glance at the screen tells you it's your roommate yelling at you through the receiver, jolting you awake as abruptly as an ice-cold shower. You rub your eyes and look down at Kika, who's clutching the blanket tightly. "I - um - I'm at Kika's," you answer him, slowly getting up from the couch so as not to wake your friend. At least someone should be able to get some decent sleep. 

"What the heck are you doing at Kika's? And why aren't you home?" He speaks more softly now, but still sounds irritated. 

Confused, you look at the clock. 3:54 am. 

You sneak out of the living room on your socks and close the door behind you. "Are you home?" you ask him, and the thought that Raphael might be waiting there sends a shiver down your spine. 

"Of course I'm home. Joris picked me up because you didn't answer the phone."

And sure enough. Twelve missed calls in the last hour. Mentally, you slap your forehead. "I'm so sorry, Charles. We were watching a show and fell asleep. I'll be right home."

In the kitchen, you find a pen and paper and leave a note for Kika that you drove home. No one needs to know that you're sure to commit some driving violations in the form of speeding.

What do you do when you arrive and the green Nissan is still on the scene? Would you pretend it wasn't even there? And what if Raphael was sitting in it? Would you talk to him so he wouldn't knock on the door of your apartment? 

Thank God you don't have to worry about that, because when you turn onto your street, the Nissan is nowhere to be seen, so you breathe a sigh of relief. Which sends a brief stab through your spine. Kika's couch may look comfortable, but you definitely don't want to sleep on it again. 

Before you can put the apartment key in the lock, it's yanked open from the inside and an irritated - and slightly tipsy - Charles is standing in front of you, his hands on his hips and his green eyes twinkling. 

"Do you have any idea how much I worried about you?" He turns and walks further into the apartment, a silent sign for you to follow him. "First I can't reach you, and then I come home and you're not here! I was this close to calling the police, Y/N!"

"I'm sorry, Charles. Really." When you say his name, he winces. "I didn't want you to worry. I was with Kika and we fell asleep. It wasn't intentional, and I should have let you know." 

He eyes you up and down, and only when he's sure everything is okay with you, do his hard features soften. Charles takes a step toward you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Except for the fact that your ex, who cheated on you and manipulated you, was suddenly waiting for you outside your apartment?

"Everything's fine, really. Just a little back pain. Kika's couch is not conducive to sleeping."

Charles nods slightly. "Then let's go to sleep. It's getting really late."

A few minutes later, when Charles goes to take his bedding out of the closet in the hallway, he stands puzzled in the bathroom doorway where you are brushing your teeth. "Where is my stuff?"

You nod toward the bedroom before spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth. "In the bedroom. I promised you could sleep in the bed tonight, didn't I?" Noticing his disheveled hair and tired eyes, you have to smile. "And I think you need to sleep on a soft mattress tonight more than I do."

Charles lifts one hand and rests it on the upper door frame. His shirt slides up a little, revealing a strip of his belly. "And you said you had a sore back. I think it's pretty clear who's sleeping in the bed."

You reach for the brush and comb your hair so you don't have to stare at his stomach. "It is. You."

"Can we maybe not do this?" He rubs his face with his free hand. Noticing your unyielding gaze, he drops his arms and puts his palms together. "I have a proposition." He rubs his palms together. "Since neither of us can win this argument, how about this: we share the bed."

The brush gets stuck halfway through your hair and your eyes go wide. "We - what?"

Charles shrugs, as if it's the most normal suggestion ever. "The bed is huge and the couch is so fucking uncomfortable it would be an imposition to let you sleep on it with back pain. And since you insist I sleep in the bed, why don't you just lie down on it, too?"

Your blood pounds so loudly in your ears that you can barely hear him. First you almost touch each other in the restaurant and now he wants you to share the bed? What's next?

When you don't answer, Charles gets nervous. "If you don't want to, that's perfectly okay. It was just a suggestion so that two friends could have a decent night's sleep." He nods in your direction. "And so neither your back nor mine gets ruined."

Hadn't you decided to draw a line to make this friendship work? And how is that going to work when you're lying next to each other in a cozy bed? Oh god, what if you snuggle up to him at night and he doesn't even want that? Would you even be able to sleep if he was that close to you?

Before you can answer, Charles raises his hands. "I get it. It was a stupid idea."

"No!" Rubbing your forehead, Charles looks at you in confusion. "Um, we can try this out if you want. For one night." You put the brush back in its place. "I mean, friends can share a bed, no? There's nothing to it."

Charles breathes a sigh of relief, and a smile that makes your heart beat faster spreads across his face. "Do you have a favorite side?" When you shake your head, he nods slightly. "I'll get everything ready and then we'll sleep together right away. Sorry. That came out wrong." He runs a hand through his hair and flush shoots into his cheeks. "We'll, um, see you in a bit," he stumbles over his words, then disappears toward the bedroom.

After closing the bathroom door, you hit your forehead with the palm of your hand. Why did you agree to his offer? Are you completely stupid? There are so many things that could happen! You could talk in your sleep, or snore, or, as already stated, snuggle up to him! Only a complete idiot would get into bed with him now!

Before you can slide down the spiral any further, you leave the bathroom in sleeping clothes and follow Charles into the bedroom. He's just pulling his shirt over his head and his back muscles are dancing under his skin, and you regret a little that you agreed to the proposition. 

The line between friendship and more is somehow getting thinner and thinner. And there's nothing you can do about it. 

"I prefer to sleep on the right side. I hope that's okay," Charles says as he pulls another shirt over his head. He walks around the bed, which has both his and your bedding on it. "I can sleep in tomorrow, so it would be cool if you were quiet when you have to go to work," he smiles as he pulls back the covers and then sits down. 

Seeing him in bed is so intimate, so private, you have to look away.

"Is everything all right?" he asks as he slides down on the bed and pulls the covers up to his waist. 

You don't dare follow him at all, but you can't stand around any further than that, so you slip under the covers on the other side of the bed. ""Everything's fine."" You plug your phone into the charger before turning over onto your back. 

Charles turns off the bedside lamp, leaving only a strip of moonlight in the room, and turns onto his back as well. In the darkness, he seems even closer than he actually is. You feel his warmth, even though there are a few inches and all the bedding between you, and the whole situation makes you so nervous that you can only breathe shallowly. God, his scentl is everywhere.

"I liked you coming with me today," Charles says into the darkness. "I enjoy spending time with you."

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you're glad he can't see you very well. "I like spending time with you, too."

You feel Charles move, and thanks to the moonlight, you realize he's turned in your direction. You do the same.

"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks, bending his elbow and resting his head on it. 

You slide your hand under your cheek and have to swallow. "Of course," you answer him. "Why do you ask?"

He smirks. "Because we've only known each other for two days, and we've already fought so much, and now we're sharing a bed. It's all been quite a roller coaster ride." He pulls the covers a little higher toward his chest. 

You'd love to put your hand to his cheek and stroke it with your thumb, but that would surely cross a friendship line. "We're not just friends, Charles. We're roommates, too. And you're my first roommate. It's completely understandable that we need to get used to each other."

Charles exhales, and it's not until you can feel his breath on your heated skin that you realize how close he really is. "I just want us to make this work." He pauses for a moment, and even though it's dark, you can see him wrestling with himself to say the next words.

"You're just too important to me to screw this up." His voice is soft and gentle as he lifts his hand and places it between your faces, as if he's letting you decide if you want to take it. "I don't think you realize how important you are to me."

next part

[kanmom51]

Okay so I had to put my thoughts down in words

I just don’t know how to feel about what Jimin said in the bts of Muse, other than sad.

I guess I should start by saying I’d been dreading him saying something along the lines of that since I heard Who, as to why he made it. The MV bts came and went and then bam, we get a mini production diary, with saying he’s looking for love and is alone. Exactly how I thought he would explain it.

I hoped I’d be wrong but alas, he more than confirmed he is single. I suppose it’s not surprising, but all of our collective hope or support seems in vein now.

I’m still going to watch the travel show but I feel sad about it tbh. They make such a cute pair.

I'm really sorry that you feel that way love.

Especially knowing that you are just not taking what JM said the right way.

In any case babe, whatever you might believe about their relationship, that shouldn't take from you supporting them for being the most adorable human beings possible.

I won't go too much into the BTB. I do think you need to watch it multiple times, try to pay attention to JM's body language too. But I will say that I do think that your reaction here is unwarranted, in the sense that JM IS NOT saying he's single or that he is looking for love or that he is alone.

Let's start with the fact that JM was going for the gender neutral lyrics to start with, but that changed, probably because it sounded better with the "she" instead of the "you".

So, yeah, JM originally wasn't looking for a she, but a you. Funny how if this was an autobiographical song that would have mattered, right? Oh, wait a second. It isn't.

The song is not about JM, not about his real life, not about his actual experiences down to the T.

Not this song, nor Muse the album, even though the other songs were written by him.

Not an autobiography. Unlike Face.

JM says it here and he said it in his album exchange with RM!!

See, it looks like you are doing exactly what JM wanted fans to do. And that is get the wrong idea!!

Did you miss this perhaps?

Yeah, you probably missed JM saying this.

Btw, when JM talks about his diary, I really don't believe he means a personal diary where he writes his wants and needs and experiences, lol. He's talking about that diary where he writes his ideas for the album, his ideas for the songs, where he wrote his lyrics to the songs for Face (we got that diary with Face) and for Muse. And JM, he's a shy boy, Idk if you are aware of that. This young man who oozes confidence on stage is so very shy and the experience of having to explain to John Billion the idea he wants for the song and it coming to life left him a little self conscious, shy.

This isn't about the song telling the story of his life. This is about having to explain an idea for a song, his vision, it actually being something that he isn't going through.

Ok, moving on.

Again, JM explaining the vibe he is going for with the song.

And again his shyness.

He continues to say that he poured all his emotions into this so he's embarrassed.

Not because these emotions are his as in this is what he feels right now longing for love, but because he feels embarrassed to explain his emotions about the song, the emotions he's looking for in the song.

I suggest that if you are having an issue with understanding how this song is not JM, not his life, maybe go rewatch the album exchange with RM.

And read my post on it as well.

These feeling JM is trying to encompass in Muse (and Who) are part of the universal language of love, a language he is using in Muse to convey his message, which is not literal.

And specifically when he talks about Who, it's about that feeling of excitement in his work that he's looking for. Those are the feelings he's talking about. Not the lyrics about the "she" (who was supposed to be a "you"). Not the lyrics that are written in the universal language of love. No. It's about the feelings about his work. The feelings about the message he is trying to convey. Which has NOTHING to do with his love life!!!

But again, he's telling us about those feelings through a language we all understand. So that longing he has for that feeling with his work is brought to life as a longing for a someone to love.

This!!

It's a story he wants to tell!!!

And the whole "everyone's living alone" sentence that you are probably clinging to, cause obviously...

a. He could be talking about the fact that at some point of every person's life, they are living alone, as without a partner, a loved one, and as such it's a relatable feeling.

b. It's not like people that are in relationships don't feel alone at times. Even JM, who was in a committed relationship with JK when going through the struggles and feelings he had and poured into Face, into Alone felt that way. I bet you JK was feeling alone or lonely during the time JM was working on Face and Muse. During those lives in Feb 2023. And yet, he was in a committed relationship with the person he loved.

c. He's trying to tell a story, and he's trying to convey his longing for that feeling with regards to his work, and being lonely is how he's explaining it, the way he's conveying it to us. Hence the "everyone's living alone"... meaning - that is something everyone will understand, meaning, hoping he picked the right idea, the right way to convey his message as the 6th song for Muse!!!

THAT IS ART!!!

And JM created art. Not "this is a song based on my own experience" art, which he did with Face, but "this is a story I want to tell that will help you understand my feelings about my work" art.

And he knew.

He knew people will make the wrong assumptions.

Just like you are right now.

Side note, and before I go, Idk if you have noticed this, but Muse, promoting the album, talking about the album, is so much easier for JM to do than Face. With Face all we got was that it's personal, that he was struggling, but not much more than that. JM was pretty much staying quiet, and even when he did talk he was saying much of nothingness. While with Muse he's talking, he's opening up, he's explaining. You know why? Because it's not about his life!!

Just saying.

[c0ld0utside]

Do you write angst/sadder ideas?

I had a idea of a reader whose mother died during birth, and because of the grief their father accidentally ignored them? Working constantly, missing important events. Like he’s not the worst father, just absent. could make him rich so reader spends more time with a nanny then their own father.

So reader runs away, and the father finally realized what he did and has to try to find reader? (Readers at a friends house but the father doesn’t really know their friends. Or something like that idk)

sorry if this is long or something that’s boring, perfectly fine if you don’t want to do it :)))

Sorry this took me so long. No TW's really (not that I know of at least).

Could you blame him? Being a single father was hard, especially when you’re a CEO for a company that owns other companies and so on… and when you remind him so much of who he lost. Maybe it’s your eyes, or your face shape or the texture of your hair. Maybe even the way you talk. Regardless, Steven was a busy, sad, mourning man who’s grief worsened upon seeing you, his only child.

He tried to make it up to you. He hired you a nanny- Ms. Noya- to be there for you instead. He’d send you birthday cards- May 18th is your birthday, right? Steven would even send you cupcakes- only to find years later that you didn’t like cupcakes. Odd. Who doesn’t like cupcakes? Whatever. Point is, he tries. Even if Steven’s work is more important than you and those soccer matches and choir concerts that he missed.

At least Ms. Noya attended, right? Well- even if she couldn’t make it to all of your games at least someone is cheering you on. Steven doesn’t know that some of your classmates make fun of you for needing a Nanny. That they mock you for your lack of attention. That Mommy died because of you and Daddy hates you for it.

If he had known sooner he would’ve dismissed all of those things. Told you that no, he doesn’t hate you for what happened because- well, these things happen. He and your mother knew the risks. Steven just didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

Steven stands there in your empty bedroom on the verge of having a panic attack. After seeing your posts online of games you won and concerts you were a part of, he mustered up his courage and decided to finally come home. Only to find that you weren’t there. Nor was your Nanny. He searched all over the home, calling out for you and Ms. Noya but got no answer. He tried calling you with his phone- you wouldn’t pick up.

So, he searched your room and found your diary. Steven knew it was a #1 rule to not go through your child’s diary, but he needed clues to where you were. And he hasn’t spoken to you in so long- it suddenly hit him that he knew nothing about you. How shameful.

…

Steven set the diary down with a shaky sigh.

I don’t know why I’m still not used to him being here.

I’ve been throwing the cupcakes away.

I don’t even use most of the stuff he gives me. I should give it away. It’s cluttering up my room and closet.

I wish he’d actually just stop by for once. I didn’t kill her. It’s not my fault. I don’t even want to be here.

Fuck this. I don’t know why I’m still waiting for him. I’m going to Lucy’s.

Lucy? Who is Lucy? A friend? Steven quickly calls up the school to ask them about a “Lucy.” On a rare stroke of luck, there’s only one Lucy in your school. After getting her address (people are so easily bribed with money), Steven immediately called the police.

Was it the best reaction? Noooo. But come on- if it was him who had showed up you wouldn’t have come back. Steven was sure of that. Especially after reading your diary. (He was 100% wrong.)

Yeah you freaked out on him once you got home. He expected that! You were just put in a police car after all. It’s amusing, really, how nervous he is. Him, Steven (l/n), a CEO that essentially has it all. Has been through countless meetings where he was calm and precise and knew what to say.

“I’m really sorry sweetheart! I didn’t know where you were and I- …I had to see you. I know it’s been a long while and that that’s an understatement but it’s been so long and I need to make it all up to you.”

-

Going back to school the next day had been extremely awkward for you and your friends. When you got home, you were horrified to find out that Ms. Noya had been…”removed,” putting it lightly.

“I’m going to be working from home from now on, so we won’t be needing her anymore.” Steven had told you. He shushed you when you started to protest, patting your head like a toddler.

“I know there are huge changes happening, but it’s okay! I’ll fix everything and we can make up for lost time. I promise.”

“Daddy’s here now, and he won’t leave you alone again.”

____

Yall I'm sorry this is taking me so long forgive me please. My chromebook has been acting up so I'm stuck writing on my phone.

Criticism is welcome. Remember to drink some water and eat.

[unbizzarre]

One-Esk and Murderbot meet in the waiting lobby for Robo-Therapy

(…specifically rage counseling )

Probably two of my favorite robot/ai/construct protagonists in literature! Though I have a lot. (What’s up Culture shipminds…)

Creation notes:

A pattern I’ve been noticing is that a lot of these robots are very traumatized, very angry, and don’t like talking about their feelings. I was gonna originally make this short comic about One-Esk (aka Breq) and Murderbot on the first day of group therapy for rage counseling and it would just be a bunch of shots of them sitting in silence cuz neither of them like talking about their feelings but, uh…. the shots were just a lot and the series of events wasn’t really flowing right so I scrapped that idea in favor of not having to draw a zillion backgrounds. Still wound up taking a stupidly long time to create a product that feels… underwhelming. I really like how Breq turned out but I just couldn’t get the hair or costume design on MB to really fit the corpo-futuristic spacer asthetic I was going for, while still capturing that social-anxiety-comfort-hoodie energy. (Was originally contemplating having a shot of MB pulling hoodie strings closed over their face in one shot but wound up scrapping that idea as well.) Cannonicallly, MB should probably be in all dark blues and blacks, but the colors just weren’t working so I went with yellow instead. Idk. Maybe it’s a loaner hoodie from one of MB’s humans.

Here’s a shot I never wound up using:

Anyways! I hope this made you smile if you like one or both of these series! 😊

Post script: if you like Martha Wells Murderbot Diaries, you should definitely check out Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice trilogy, or vice versa. More angry traumatized non-binary human-ai constructs for all! Mega-latestage-capitolist dystopia, or xenophobic -imperialist-socialist empire? Sentient space ships? C’mon. Just read both series u know you’ll love it.

[aurorawhisperz]

that’s the thing (e.l)

I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THE DRAFT AND LOST THE ASK 😭😭😭 (but here u go anon if u find this 🙏)

contains: swearing, fluff, smut 18+ (oral, fingering, slight overstimulation)

spiderman!ethan landry x fem!reader

based off you’re here that’s the thing by beabadoobee 🙏

•

Ethan definitely screwed up.

He swings across the city in tight spandex. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Ethan exclaimed, speedily typing on his phone, but you wouldn’t respond.

Being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, he always had priorities—but that didn’t stop him from spending time with you. Knowing this, you forgave him every time he’d miss something.

Well, that jinxed it. On the lookout, he had completely forgotten about your date, Ethan—being the dork with the heart of gold, thought this would be the last straw for you.

Ethan often thought about this every time he’d be swinging around New York just to make it up to you. One reason why he’d always make it up to you is because he felt like he should, or must.

The second reason why is because it always ends in something wonderful—whether it’s him sleeping over, or the other way around, or something else that would have the boy completely whipped.

Then he spotted you, wearing his jacket you ‘forgot’ to return. His whole world seemed to stop—that was until he remembered the fact that he left you waiting.

A bunch of people backed away when Ethan took you with him. “It’s the spider dude!” Someone near you exclaimed.

“What? Oh my god!” You exclaim, swiftly sliding your hands around his neck. “I am so SO sorry that I left you waiting, okay? I was on the lookout, I completely forgot about our date, I’m really sorry, I REALLY AM!” He exclaimed, talking fast, then you pointed at a pole that was about to hit his head.

Once Ethan was about to dodge it, it hits the top of his head instead. His grip tightened till he swinged back to your dorm—though weakly.

He yanks his mask off and leans back on your bed.

“Less talking, more swinging.” You sigh, grabbing the sides of his face—then you kissed him, your lips moving in sync. He could taste the fruity lipgloss you had put on. Ethan's eyes widened in surprise as you pulled away. He blinked a few times, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

Then a smile was on his face, pulling you back. Deepening the kiss.

“Being a superhero’s girlfriend isn’t that hard,” You frown, then he kisses more again before you continue, “But seriously, you have to change out of this shit.” Ethan kept a hand on your waist, “Actions speak louder than words, right?”

You jump as Ethan quickly jumps under your bed, your roommate bursting in. “Hey, I’ll be leaving you alone here for a while since I’ve got somewhere to go.” You nod, then they wave, “See ya.” And leave.

Quickly falling on your bed as Ethan uses his webs to lock the door, “This is really cute,” He holds up your diary, the drawing of Spider-Man you made on a sticky note during a lecture. “Can I keep it?”

“Change first.” He rolled his eyes at your command.

He quickly changed into his normal clothes after slipping off the spandex. “Dammit,” He exclaimed as he checked his backpack for flowers he was gonna give you—there were flowers, but only a few, the petals flying away instantly.

Walking into the living room, Ethan uses his webs to snatch the remote from your hands, “We’re watching a movie, because I have to make it up to you,” Then handing you the somewhat ruined bouquet of flowers. “Eth, you shouldn’t have.” You teased then grabbed his camera from the table.

“Try and take a picture of me holding these, that’s how you can make it up to me.” Ethan takes the camera from you then more words come from your mouth, “Although you’re already here, that’s how you can make it up to me.”

The camera flashes in your face as you cover the lower half of your face with the flowers—then laying down on the couch with Ethan as the movie starts playing.

“You know,” says Ethan, “I’m really glad I forgot about our date today,” You frown, then he chuckles, “It led to this and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You both chuckle at his words then you shower his face with kisses. Ethan quickly pulled you down to kiss his lips. The movie was long forgotten soon after that.

His lips crashed into yours once again, then his nails dig in your thighs as you straddle him.

“Maybe because you knew it would lead to this,” You mumble against his lips, his other hand running down your spine like an instrument. Ethan broke the kiss to move down to your jawline—then your neck.

His hands tapping on your lower back as you pulled away. “You’re a sneaky one.” You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, then Ethan let out a breathy laugh, “I’m Spiderman, of course I’m sneaky.”

“But I love Ethan Landry more.” Right after Ethan takes quite a few minutes to process your words, he pulls you in by your waist to kiss you once again.

You wrap your arms around his neck as his fingers dig into your hips.

He mumbles against your lips, “I want you,” He starts to smoothly put a little tongue in the kiss, then when your lips part even more for permission, it slips in. You hum against his lips as Ethan slowly grinds into you.

You pull away and smile, he drags his thumb over your bottom lip, you try to kiss him again, but he keeps a hand on your chest to stop you. “Can I go down on you?” The question makes your eyes widen as you turn beet red. Ethan’s stupid puppy eyes made you nod, and the smirk felt good to kiss off.

His arms placed you back on the couch, the needy boy got on his knees. Ethan gives you a deep kiss, then he moves down your jaw, he leaves a mark on your collarbone.

It goes from your chest, to your belly, and he reaches your clothed core. Ethan looks up at you and you lick your lips.

The boy pulls down your panties and starts with kissing your inner thighs. The sneaky little thing was always a tease, it pained you slightly but you know you love him.

Ethan presses a wet kiss to your left thigh, sucking on it. His breath fans over your core and you shudder.

He presses a kiss to your clit, then makes his way down to your entrance—licking up then burying his face in between your thighs. Your back arched at the pleasure.

In the early stages of your relationship, you had always told him what felt good, and he made it feel even better.

Your legs threaten to lock around his head, but his big hands hold your hips down. You were basically squirming, and he was only trying to drive himself away from the spot you wanted him to stay on.

Ethan harshly sucks on your clit, circling it with his tongue. You feel like you’re close, VERY close. Without warning, his middle finger enters you and that makes you lift your head up and whine in pleasure, you could feel him smile against your core.

“God, don’t stop.” You say breathlessly, and while muffled, you could still hear him, “I won’t,” He pulls away with a pop, “Trust me.” He dives right back in as soon as he finishes.

When his ring finger enters, your body felt limp and like everything slowed down for a minute.

The hot feeling down your stomach was heating up.

When his nose bumped into your clit, along with his ring finger entering the chaos, that feeling hit it’s peak.

Though Ethan didn’t stop, he kept lapping up your juices—it felt so overwhelming. Your hips were basically jolting up out of instinct.

You shuddered under his touch, he reaches up for your hand and laces his fingers with yours.

When Ethan finally pulled away, he crawled back on top of you and pushed away a stray strand of hair. He didn’t say anything, he just smiled. You know you’d forgive him for missing a date either way, the only way he could make it up to you is just being there.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, then he mumbles in between kisses, “I’m not done yet,” Your eyes blink open as he pulls away, the taste of yourself lingering on your tongue. “I wonder how people would feel if they find out their friendly neighborhood Spiderman was a pro at not only superhero-ing, but this.” says Ethan.

You chuckle and pull him back in for another, when he breaks the contact he takes the square foil out of his pocket and smirks at you, then places it on the table next to you both. He tries to kiss you again

You grab it from the table, “I’m not on the pill, babe,” You assure him, he shrugs then takes it from your hand. He sticks the tip of his tongue out when he struggles to open it. You laugh at Ethan, and open it yourself. “I’ll be your walking stick tomorrow,” he whispers to your ear.

You were in for a long night.

[mbgwriting]

Describing Setting with Intent

Recently, I saw a post expressing the sentiment somewhere along the lines of I’m a good writer until I have to describe a room and then forget about it. And my first thought was…so don’t describe the room. Just don’t.

I know what you’re thinking. But my reader won’t know what’s in my mind if I don’t describe it! It’s lush and atmospheric! (Or possibly, It’s my story and I want to!)

Listen. Writer to writer. I know. But if your reader is too bored with your description of the setting to get through the page, they’re not going to see your vision at all because they’re not going to finish your story. 

That doesn’t mean that you can’t give them an idea of what they’re looking at, and that doesn’t mean you can’t ever describe the setting! Let’s talk about it. 

-If you’re bored, your reader is bored. First and foremost. This is just something to remember all the time when writing. If you don’t want to write it, if it’s not working, if you think it’s not interesting–that is your writer’s instinct telling you something! Find a way around it instead of slogging through because you think you have to. 

-Sprinkle in your scene imagery. Think of yourself as the salt bae of descriptive information. Instead of info-dumping, only give tidbits of information as they become relevant to your POV character. Your character notices the breeze as it blows their hair into their face. They notice the uneven ground as they stumble on it. And look, on your first draft, maybe you do info-dump! It’s okay! You have the words on the page, that’s what the first draft is for. When I catch myself doing this, it’s as simple as asking where you can flesh out (and spread out) those details in a more interesting way. 

-Remember what your POV character would actually notice. This example isn’t a room description, but the concept applies. I read The Silent Patient this year. The first chapter begins as a journal entry, and it includes a detailed description of the journal…which we are meant to believe the POV character is currently writing in. When was the last time you wrote in your diary and said “yeah this is my pink Hello Kitty notebook and she’s eating an apple on the cover”? Never. You’ve never done that. You know what the notebook you’re writing in looks like. And guess what? As a reader, that information was not essential to me. I know what a journal looks like. So your main character shouldn’t be describing a familiar setting to your reader like they’ve never seen it before. That isn’t to say you can’t get away with a throwaway detail here and there. It means that it should be just that—a throwaway, so small that it’s barely noticeable, but adds to the visual experience. 

-Go beyond the visual. This goes hand-in-hand with imagery. What does your setting sound like? Smell like? What is the lighting like? Is it warm or cold? Does it feel damp? This is especially useful because even in a familiar place, you might overlook visuals but still pick up on other sensory input–like when you walk into your house and notice if it smells like dinner is cooking or if someone forgot to take the garbage out. 

-Use character action to give texture to the room. What the heck does that mean? It’s a really obnoxious way to say the same thing you’ve heard a thousand times. Show, don’t tell. This can be as simple as mentioning that a chair feels rickety as your character sits down, or giving your characters something to do as they have their conversation. Even if they are simply chatting over the dinner table, you can describe the clink of the cutlery during an awkward silence, the way a character watches the condensation trickle down their glass in order to avoid eye contact, the way another character is distracted by the background noise.

-When you do describe a room, do it with intent. There are times when you can actually describe the room. But people don’t need to know the wall color or that the curtains are made from your MC’s grandmother’s favorite dress unless that’s important to the story. The details you give need to hold weight. For example: in my most recent novel, I spent 2-3 sentences describing the meticulous neatness of my character’s bedroom, but only so that his father could come in a page later and find something to criticize about it. At another point I described a room in a different character's house. This time I used a lot of detail, turning the description into a deluge of information—because I was describing a room in a hoarder’s house. I wanted the reader to feel just as overwhelmed by the room as my character did. 

-The setting description should always do double duty. You’ll notice that all of the examples I gave came down to one simple point: if you’re describing something, there needs to be a reason. It needs to tie into characterization, or theme, or plot, or tone. It needs to add value to the overall story. Otherwise, endless setting descriptions are just…a little bit boring.

[torchship-rpg]

Dev Diary 17 - Complex Dice Tests

We lied! Today was going to be about the meta-campaign mechanics, but we did a really cool system overhaul instead and we simply have to tell you about it.

Basically, we overhauled a part of our dice system in a pretty major way. It’s involved some fairly dramatic changes to how rolls are done, though all the other systems we’ve created plug pretty seamlessly into it (and as we’ve integrated it, it’s actually let us effectively cut systems now that they’re covered automatically by the new system). It’s one of the deftest bits of game design we’ve ever done and we gotta brag about it.

Development of the Previous System

One of the things that has been a problem for Torchship for a long while is that it wanted to be a dice pool system (roll X dice, looking for Y amount of Z+ results), which doesn’t just have binary pass-failure outcomes. We wanted players to feel competent in their fields, but we also needed there to be interesting difficulties and complications so that stories aren’t just a stateful progression of experts effortlessly performing the tasks they’re experts in.

This is surprisingly difficult!

Nailing down exactly how it would work has gone through about a half-a-dozen iterations, all of which always felt like hacky temporary solutions. The version we came up with before this, which the game has been using for about a year, involved two thresholds on each roll; a “Difficulty” to do the thing, and a “Complexity” tacked onto it that you had to reach to do it without any extra problems.

This served the purpose, but its various incarnations slowed the game down a lot more than it should have, and put too much stress on the GM to work out what these two targets would be and how complications would emerge from it. It was a clunky solution which required a lot of experience to use properly, functioning just well enough to build systems around without ever being stellar on its own.

It Must be Tuesday

While working on Must be Tuesday: Revived Edition, which uses a similar dice pool system, my wonderful editor Lexie came up with a really clever system while we were working out the dice odds. In that game, you have a “Skill” target from 6+ to 3+ with a variable dice pool and a number of Successes needed. 

Our partial successes there comes from a concept of ‘Scrapes’; dice which are 4+, but don’t meet your Skill target. If you reach the number of Successes you need when you add your Scrapes to your rolls meeting your Skill, you get a partial success! Brilliant, isn’t it? That means everyone has a chance to get by on even hard checks using their worst skills, but it’s never easy.

When we poked at Torchship stuff after testing that system out, we found ourselves wondering if something similar wouldn’t fit here as well. It wouldn’t translate 1-1; Must be Tuesday is about teenagers fighting monsters in a horror/comedy setup, where nobody is doing anything really complicated, and even the people who are the best at things are still only as good at it as, you know, teenagers. It’s not a good tone fit, but it inspired the system we used.

Complexity Certs & Complications

The solution we came up with, which we are so proud of we bumped a whole dev diary for it, is the idea of Complexity Certs.

Basically, we’ve ditched the previous Complexity target from before. Your dice Test just has a single, easily determined Difficulty. In ideal circumstances, you roll a number of dice determined by the tool you’re using, needing to get results over your Cert target. Get as many of those as the Difficulty, you succeed, otherwise you fail. Simple binary outcome to a simple problem.

But you’re playing cosmonauts. You know, you boldly go places you probably shouldn’t. You don’t face simple problems.

When the GM calls for a roll, they can tack on Complexity Certs in accordance to the situation you’re facing. Essentially, they’re saying this roll is a test not just of the ‘Primary Cert’ that determines if you pass or fail, but it’s also a test of some extra skills that have come up because of the number of moving parts involved in the situation.

So while you still only have one Difficulty, you need to meet that difficulty using multiple dice targets to succeed without qualifiers. If you just meet the difficulty on your Primary Cert, but not the Complexity Certs, then the GM can hit you with a Complication that can emerge naturally from the Cert in question. Conversely, you could end up in a situation where you have a better value on your Complexity Cert than the primary, so you could fail, but avert other disasters.

Or you could fail at both, and now you have two problems!

This system elegantly compresses a bunch of things the system needed to do into one quick judgement call by the GM in the moment. We don’t need to have specific penalties for working remotely through a robot, working in a spacesuit, or doing things in low gravity; the GM can just add the Drone Operator, EVA, or Cosmonaut Certs to the Test as Complexity Certs. There’s no limit to the number of Complexity Certs that can get added either, so you can sum up really complex situations with a single roll.

It also made the game’s group test mechanics much simpler and more impactful. Helping can be a complex game design challenge; you want people to be able to give each other a hand, but you need to make sure people can’t simply do it on every single roll to avoid slowdown and the trivialization of gameplay challenges. The way Help works now is allowing you to lend a friend one of your Certs to take on a Complexity Cert, basically monitoring a potential problem for them while they focus on the main task. 

As you get XP for Helping or being Helped on Checks where somebody is rolling with a higher Cert than you, you might want to point out potential problems with people’s plans that relate to your expertise as they come up so you can be the one to solve them. It also means that the presence of a Complexity Cert acts as a prompt for characters to step in and help one another out, and rewards a properly multi-disciplinary crew working together to tackle complex problems. 

You know. Like… like a Star Trek.

Examples

The example we use in the game rules is as follows.

Let’s say you are at a shooting range with your laser pistol, and you want to shoot a target. That’s a straightforward Sharpshooter Cert test. You either hit the target or you don’t. Easy!

But let’s say you’re doing the same thing but in a combat situation where you might get hit in return. The GM can (and is encouraged to) add the Soldier Cert as a Complexity Cert to the roll; Soldier is the Cert that covers tactics, movements, and the use of cover, so if your dice meet the difficulty using your Sharpshooter target, but don’t from your Soldier target, then you probably hit the target but exposed yourself to danger in the process.

Suddenly, we can see the difference between an Olympic target shooter and an infantryman.

Or let’s say you’re a guard posted in a reactor room; if you are doing some shooting there, the GM could throw in Damage Controller as a Complexity Cert to represent the chances of you breaking something vital in the antimatter reactor by throwing lasers everywhere. Suddenly, you have a really good reason to cross-train your guards in engineering skills, at least enough that they know not to shoot the matter/antimatter exchangers.

Or maybe you’re trying to incapacitate an unfamiliar alien creature without killing it; the GM could add Life Scientist. What if you’re doing it in a spacesuit? Add EVA. Knocking out a piece of machinery? Add Technician. Aiming a remote turret instead of doing it yourself? Drone Operator.

Which means you could, conceivably, be in a spacesuit operating a tablet controlling a gun drone non-lethally shooting a strange device on a strange alien in a combat situation inside an engine room… and it all happens with one roll and no need for infinitely stacking penalties.

Knock-On Changes

The biggest knock-on change this has caused is a need for finer gradation between Certs so that the differences come up more often and are less severe. For that reason, we moved the game to d10 pools from d6s; yes, this was an enormously annoying change to make through our draft, and we’re still working out how to rebalance advancement through it. It also means we have to do yet another pass through the Traits, which we were midway through… oh well! 

(We have a cool new lever that’s come out of, actually; we can have Traits just make Complexity Certs just not count in appropriate circumstances. Freefaller characters get to ignore 0g penalties, for example, which includes adding Cosmonaut as a Complexity Cert to a lot of rolls). 

I’ve submitted Torchship to Metatopia again this year, and I’m really looking forward to running it on the other side of a year of rewrites and de-heartbreakerification. I’m confident it’ll go much better this time around. 

Anyway, next Dev Diary will be about the Zinovians, and then we’ll do the meta-campaign mechanics. Unless something even cooler comes up.