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naeviskz · 9 months ago

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WHIRLWIND ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ

synopsis ; you overreact just a teensy bit when you see hyunjin talking to another girl, but when you find out the actual reason why … you try everything you can to make it up to him.

genre 숌 non-idol au, boyfriend!hyunjin x girlfriend!reader | established relationship

words - 3.6k tags/warnings 숌 fluff, (some) angst? pwp, smut, reader gets very jealous easily/has possessive tendencies, small mentions of insecurities, v v v clingy & needy gf, marking, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (m), lowkey daddy kink, hj has a big cawk, breeding kink cause that’s my fave tehe. i will preface that oc kinda has a toxic way of thinking and it’s def not healthy to act this way irl !!

now playing 🎧 : cool with you by newjeans, streets by doja cat

☆ 彡

[ this my first ever writing that has smut in it so bear w/ me pls ;-; i’m still learning how to do this right haha, but lmk if you enjoyed this at all <3 **not proofread btw ! ]

“Let’s go on that one next Jinnie!!” You squeal like a giddish teenager as you point to the ride up ahead, violently pulling on Hyunjin’s hand his entire arm might just fall off.

It’ll be your 1 year anniversary in approximately a week, and what better way to pre celebrate than going to the amusement park and watching fireworks at night? You haven’t been to one in years, reminiscing all those times you were a kid innocently frolicking around, not having a single care in the world. Since you’re a fully grown adult now it’s an altered experience, you’re able to pick up on social cues and no longer need parental supervision. You forgot just how thrilling it was to let loose and have fun, all while spending it with your lovely boyfriend.

The current ride you’re both getting on is essentially a giant wooden pirate ship that swings in a horizontal motion, elevating you high up in the air. You don’t do heights very well but Hyunjin’s a little daredevil who gets off on the adrenaline rush. He’s tried convincing you to do skydiving but that’s just something you refuse to compromise on. Before going on the pirate ship ride you went on the teacups, which was probably your favorite one of today. You couldn’t stop giggling and teasing Hyunjin over how incredibly fast he was spinning the turn-wheel, almost forgetting that you were also supposed to contribute. Spending quality time with your boyfriend like this means everything to you, he makes you feel like you’re floating on a pink cloud whenever you’re together. Like nothing else matters but you and him.

As the day progressed, what was once a milky, pale blue sky has now become a smoky dull atmosphere. Night was approaching any minute, making the temperature drop dramatically— you regret leaving the house in just shorts and a crop top. Your limbs shaking and trembling involuntarily from gusts of cool air the wind casually blows, Hyunjin seems to take note of this and takes action immediately.

“Want my hoodie babe?” Hyunjin asks out of concern, ready to yank it off the minute you agree.

You profusely nod at his offer, unable to withstand the frigid weather for another second. He pauses momentarily to grab the hem of his Versace sweatshirt with his free hand, swiftly drawing it over his head and handing it to you. Underneath he wore a thin plain white tee, now suffering from the cold— but any sacrifice is worthy of making for his precious babygirl.

Quickly putting it on, your body feels instantly warmer from his body heat still embedded into the soft fabric. “You saved me Jinnie, I almost turned into a human popsicle!” Were you exaggerating a bit? Maybe, but that’s beside the point. You’re all cozy now in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie, loving the fact that only you get to wear his clothes.

His eyes shape into crescents as he flashes an adoring smile, “my diet would only consist of peach flavored ___ popsicles for the rest of my life then.”

You swear he’s just the cutest, most adorable, sweetest thing to have ever walked this earth. Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky to end up with a person as charming, and perfect as Hyunjin. He’d say the same about you too but there’s another layer to how you feel. You’re often very over protective and territorial over him, needing to know exactly where he is at all times and who he’s hanging out with. Most of the time he’s with you, either at your place or at his. There was a set routine you two had at this point, after he’s done with work he’ll call and let you know he’s on his way to yours. Hyunjin knows how paranoid you can get when he’s gone for too long so he makes sure to communicate with you as much as he can throughout the day. It’s hard to deal with someone as high maintenance as you but he makes it work, he likes that you’re always worried and concerned about him — he’d rather have a girlfriend like that than one who doesn’t care about him.

“Looks like the sun should be setting soon.. won’t be much longer ‘til the fireworks start!” You cheer out of excitement, part of the reason you wanted to come was to see them.

He nods in agreement, “you’re right, is there anything else you wanna ride before they start?”

As if your brain answered before you could even think, “You.”

His doe eyes widened at your bold reply, never quite getting used to your subtle dirty mind. “I’ll give you that in due time, don’t worry mamas.”

A little bit later on you challenged Hyunjin to try the ‘test your strength’ game and of course he couldn’t pass up a moment to impress you. He gets into a competitive sports stance, gripping the hammer tightly before he swung hard at the puck. The meter flew straight up and hit the bell on his first try, able to win whatever prize he wanted from the largest section. He lets you choose whichever plushy you wanted, a giant fluffy pink stuffed unicorn that you held in your other hand that wasn’t occupied with Hyunjin’s.

“Hyunjinnieee, ‘m getting kinda hungry,” you childishly whine in hopes of getting him to buy you both food.

Before he could even get a response out your eyes were already fixated on something. The glowing neon lights of a food stand selling mozzarella corn dogs, you’ve always wanted to try those as you see them all the time on TikTok. Without hesitation you make a mad dash for the line as you drag your innocent boyfriend along for the adventure. As you got closer you realize the lines pretty spread out, there was at least 20+ people waiting but you were willing to stay as you really wanted one.

Hyunjin detaches his hand from yours, making you question his sudden intentions, “be right back babe, m’gonna go to the restroom.” He politely excuses himself, “here’s my card just in case I don’t make it back in time.” Pulling his credit card from his wallet to hand you before venturing off.

“Don’t be gone for too long please, or else I’ll come find you myself.” You were dead serious too, honestly speaking you didn’t necessarily want him out of your sight but you trust that he’ll come back in a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully.

“I promise babe.” He reassures, giving a quick peck to your forehead before vanishing into the crowd.

After what seemed like an eternity, you manage to secure the corn dogs and pay for them with Hyunjin’s card. Realizing now that your boyfriend is still gone, it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he promised that he’d be back. Now you have to go looking for him like a mother who’s just lost their child. Scanning every area of the park you came across, you begin to feel anxious when you don’t see him anywhere. A range of negative thoughts intrude your mind with possibilities of where he could’ve gone. What you weren’t expecting was for your intuition to be exactly spot on.

There he was standing in front a taco truck, talking and laughing with another girl. A girl you absolutely do not recognize and have no clue why or what she’s doing even having a conversation with your man. You couldn’t move at all, frozen in place as you watched the scene fold out in front of you, making you more livid as it continues. The mystery girl was pissing you off by the minute, the tiny skirt she wore barely left anything to the imagination and her body language was way too close for comfort for your liking. You had to put a stop to this immediately.

Slowly you make your way up to them, examining the situation further. The blonde girl tries to loom even closer to Hyunjin but he backs away a bit, a sheer look of fear and paranoia in his eyes. She keeps talking to him but he doesn’t really say much back, only half smiling and nodding. What makes you pick up your pace at lightning speed was when he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, as if he’s about to ask for her number.

You’ve seen enough, it’s time to intervene now.

Practically sprinting up to them you see the girl perk up when she sees you, giving a friendly wave and inviting smile as if she wasn’t just trying to steal your man a second ago. You’re ready to rip this bitches hair out and show her that she’s picked the wrong one to mess with today.

“Oh hi, you must be ___, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Her voice was so squeaky and high-pitched, not even in a cute way, just obnoxiously loud and annoying.

…How the fuck does this girl know who you are?

“Who the hell is this?” You snap at Hyunjin, completely ignoring the girl’s presence, “How does she know you?”

“I’m— ”

“I believe I asked my boyfriend, not you. Who is she?” You rudely cut her off to reiterate the question.

Hyunjin looks like he’s just witnessed a murder, his own murder to be exact. “This is Valerie, we went to high school together, I was just showing her your freelance work and all the cool designs you make ‘cause she’s looking for graphic designers and I think you’re really talented babe.”

Your heart just sank to the pit of your stomach. The balled up fist your right hand was clenching soon released itself, no longer in fight mode but flight mode from the sudden embarrassment you’re internally battling.

“Oh..”

“Uh, well it was nice talking to you Hyunjin! I’ll go find my husband now, but your graphics are incredible ___ and I’d love to hire you for a couple projects I have lined up. Here’s my business card!” She hands you the flimsy card stock and leaves in an instant.

Now you feel totally ridiculous for almost causing a scene and cursing out the girl and your boyfriend for just wanting to promote your work. You owe him an apology big time.

“I thought you were…”

“Flirting with another girl, seriously? You think I have a death wish or something? Of course I’d never try something like that. The first thing she saw was you as my lock screen when I checked the time. Plus she’s married, I don’t think she’d be that dumb.” Hyunjin further proves his case, making sure not to leave any details out.

“M’sorry baby, please forgive me.” You plead for forgiveness, regressing back to your softer, more gentle side “lemme make it up to you daddy.”

“Nngh! Hyunjin-” you keen into his ear as you rub your clothed heat against his toned thigh, holding onto him for stable support.

You seriously felt bad for acting out like that earlier, all you want to do now is make him feel so good he forgets all about your previous unhinged behavior. Lord knows what you’d do if you ever lose someone so important to you. You can’t think about that right now though. Right now was all about him and making him feel good, but you can’t help but get something out of it as well.

The backseat of his car was a bit cramped as he decided to take his smaller convertible instead of the SUV, not exactly bargaining that later on you’d be getting freaky in his vehicle. Nonetheless you enjoy each other’s company, not needing much space anyway — if anything you wanted to be as close to him as possible. If you could get inside his skin you probably would. You love Hyunjin more than yourself, often feeling like you aren’t good enough to be with him. Maybe the reason you’re so protective and jealous is because you fear he’ll leave you for someone better.

Lazily trailing your lips down further, placing small pecks here and there until you land on his neck, adorned with a dainty silver chain, nuzzling your face into the crook of it. He smells so good, the cologne he’s wearing along with his natural pheromones is an intoxicating concoction. You stick your tongue out, gliding the wet muscle over his bare skin, still feverishly rutting into him while listening to his ethereal moans.

“Mmm.. I love you.” He murmurs under his breath, slipping his hands underneath (his) your hoodie to feel you up. His hands travel upwards to find the valley of your breasts, still covered by the bra you’re wearing he slides underneath the cups to lightly squeeze them.

You nibble on his neck in response, harshly sucking on the flesh to leave visible love bites, you want to make it abundantly clear to the whole world Hwang Hyunjin belongs to you.

“I love you more Hyunjinnie,” you stop for a brief moment to say, “gonna prove it.” Which you will once you’re satisfied with marking his entire neck and chest with dozens of purple and red hickeys.

Even though he’s touching you, grinding his hard length into you and purring out your name, you need more. Craving to see and feel more of him, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt in hopes he catches your drift.

“Off. Now.” You demand sharply, getting more impatient by the second.

He obliges instantly, stripping the garment off his body to reveal the most gorgeous set of abs you’ve laid your eyes upon, he’s so unreal it makes you constantly question if you’re dreaming. You went from his neck to kissing his plump lips, his hand cupping the side of your face to deepen the kiss, both so desperate and horny for each other. Running your manicured hands down his beautiful body, just the tiniest flexing Hyunjin does with his muscles makes you go crazy. You need him to manhandle you, have you bent over and get fucked senselessly.

“Lie back Jinnie, m’gonna suck you off.” You command him to move, getting up from him so he can pivot into a more comfortable position.

He shuffles around, leaning into the leather seat before quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down his ankles. You get on your knees, disappearing between his legs to come in contact with his stiff erection. Tracing figure eights on his thighs, he hisses from your delicate touch. You couldn’t resist planting a chaste kiss to his stomach, leaving another wet kiss to his v-line. Any little touch makes Hyunjin’s heart beat out of his chest, he can’t get enough of you just as you can’t of him— high off each other like an addictive, psychoactive drug.

As you finally free his cock from the last barrier, his boxer briefs, you’re in awe from just how much precum he’s leaking already. His length stood straight up resting on his stomach, faint veins protruding around the shaft. You kiss his pretty pink tip while looking up at him with innocent eyes, grabbing the base of his cock, opening your mouth just a little to provide a few kitten licks. You’ve only just started but he feels like he’s going to come undone already.

“Shit-” he lowly grunts, feeling his cock pulsate in your tiny hand.

Taking him further in your mouth now, you manage to fit half of his length, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a tight suction on his cock. Hyunjin involuntarily rocks his hips into you, making you gag just a little from how big he is. You could never fit all of him (except for that one time you were super drunk and magically forgot what a gag reflex was) but you still try your best and that’s all that matters to him. He loves that you’re always willing to give him random blowjobs whenever and wherever, you both love public sex and the idea of possibly being caught. You take a short break to collect more saliva, spitting on his cock and spreading it with your hand to make it even messier. His mouth was permanently agape, staring down at you with lust filled eyes, not knowing how much longer he can last. When you start pumping his cock much faster along with swirling your tongue around it , he thinks he might just lose it. Panting heavily, he shifts underneath you in attempt to get you to stop but you keep sucking like the cock hungry slut you are for him. He’s seriously going to nut any minute if you continue at this rate.

“Babe.. you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up…” he closes his eyes, almost giving in to what’s inevitably about to come.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask quickly before going back.

“No,” he says, slightly frustrated with you for not obeying, “fucking this tight little pussy is.”

You’re confused when he’s pulling you away from him, moving you from the floor and back onto his lap all in one swift action, manhandling you for real this time. “What’re you doing!” You raise your voice at him like a brat, to which he spanks your behind in response.

“Shh.. relax.” He shuts you up by pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss.

You moan into his mouth, melting right into his touch like always. “Need you so bad please..” you whine for to feel more of him.

“Tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you baby.” He promises, lacing his fingers in your hair, looking at you with pure admiration.

“Your cock.. need your big fat cock inside me now,” you beg like a good girl, “please daddy, i’m literally soaking for you.” Shameless at this point with how you talk, but you know the dirtier you get the more Hyunjin likes it.

He can’t say no when you ask so polite that. “I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want princess.”

And he does.

Once he rids you of your shorts and underwear, you’re back on top of him, lining yourself up with his thick cock that slides right in from you being so ready.

“Fuck you’re so wet baby.. you take this cock so well cutie,” he praises you in the hottest way possible. You’ll never get tired of hearing him talk like this to you, hence why you love to have sex so much.

“Only for you daddy.” You breathlessly spoke, getting used to his length for a moment before beginning to move. Slowly bouncing up and down his member at first until Hyunjin slams his cock into you, walls clenching as you feel every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him in slow motion to picking up your speed, placing both hands around his neck. Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure, wrapping his hand around your waist as the other grips the soft flesh of your ass.

“Mine… your cock is mine,” you’re going faster and faster, crying out as he matches your movements, thrusting back into you hard. “Only I get to ride this everyday.”

He doesn’t hesitate to agree, letting you know exactly who he belongs to. “I’m all yours babygirl, can have this cock as much as you want, use me to get yourself off..”

You feel like you’re about to come soon, legs shaking and spasming from his girth splitting you open. “Yes baby..” you couldn’t think straight anymore, “love your cock so much Jinnie..” You mewl from being so full and cockstuffed “mmph.. wanna have your babies.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill your little cunt with all my cum and get you pregnant, hmm ? That what you want pretty girl?” He sounded so pussy drunk he couldn’t even blame you for wanting to any of this.

One more thrust was all it took for the thread to unravel inside of you, seeing white, glowing stars as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Jinnie kiss me.”

He does as he’s told, grabbing your face to kiss you roughly, entering his tongue in your mouth to intertwine with yours. He’s so good at everything he does it’s insane. Maybe if the dick wasn’t so damn good you wouldn’t be half as crazy.

“I’m so close princess..” he announces, slipping one of his long, slender digits onto your clit, coaxing your release.

“Me too.”

Everything feels ultra sensitive to you as you approach your climax, whimpering as Hyunjin sucks on your perked nipples while you continue riding him. A sudden rambunctious crackling sound startles the both of you, but what you weren’t expecting to see outside were fireworks lighting up the night sky. You’d completely forgot how excited you were to see them, watching in amazement as all the vibrant colors morph together. Leaning in to tenderly kiss your boyfriend who was also momentarily distracted, you get back right to business, chasing after your highs. Hyunjin finishes inside you like you wanted, feeling his hot seed spill into your aching heat. You came undone shortly after, holding onto him while your bare chests collide. Fireworks detonate inside your body as they do outside.

As if the universe had orchestrated the perfect 1 year anniversary pre celebration just for the two of you; a perfect moment to seal your love with the glittering magic of romance and fireworks combined. Hyunjin’s so happy to have met someone like you, someone who loves him so passionately and so deeply. He may not understand why you think the way you do sometimes, or react with such brash methods, but he knows that you do it out of pure love. It’s a whirlwind of emotions dating you but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world or have it any other way.

- 完 ♡︎

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l1v1ngd3dgrrl · 7 days ago

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Talkin' In your sleep [Daisuke x Reader]

AN: this is my first smut, so if it seems like I don't know what I'm doing I probably don't lmao (please forgive me if it's bad!) I'm kinda testing the waters a bit. Dorky guys that are sweethearts in bed just raaaghh. Love 'em.Y/n (you) and Daisuke are in their early 20's. Personally I imagine them being like 22 but anywhere from 20-23 is fine too. Implied Fem reader, but no real gender specific pronouns or language is used..I may have gone a lil crazy

MDNI divider is from cafekitsune

Word Count: 2617

CW(S): Somewhat of a slow burn, Wet dreaming, oral sex (male receiving), semi-public (oral) sex?, cum swallowing.

Being the two last minute additions to the Tulpar, you and Daisuke never got proper rooms. Both of you simply had makeshift beds in the Lounge area. The beds in question being just a couple of spare blankets laid out for cushioning. They weren't comfortable by any means.

Anya, being the kind soul she was, had offered to take two of the cots from the infirmary and lay them down on the floor for the both of you, which y'all declined politely opting to tough out this journey.

This was one of those nights where you mentally kicked yourself for declining Anya's offer. Surely the cheap, almost tarp like feeling of the mattress was better than laying down on metal with nothing more than a blanket and pillow. If anything you'd kick the person back at Headquarters who insisted that you two should go on this trip. Who in the hell sends six people on a ship only designed with four crew members in mind?

One of the few good things to come out of it was your friendship with Daisuke, being the two youngest crewmates you spent quite a bit of time together when you were able too. Nights like these you would often chat quietly about random things. Life back home, menial tasks you had to do that day, stuff like that.

Currently you lay awake staring at the ceiling. Trying to will yourself to fall asleep. Daisuke had passed out hours before, even though he was right there beside you, you missed his company. Swansea had him do some particularly heavy work today, so as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out. His soft snoring being the only thing breaking the eerie silence of space.

Not wanting to lay on the floor for much longer you got up quietly and made your way to one of the couches. If you were going to be awake you were at least going to be comfortable.

You sat down and rubbed your hands over your face, sighing quietly. You never really had trouble sleeping as bad back home than you did here. The soft blue glow of the night screen covered nearly the whole room, Possibly another contributing factor to your restlessness.

Damn you and your lack of planning Pony Express!

Part of you wanted to go check the medicine cabinet in Anya's office to see if there were any sleeping pills. That would require waking her up for something you didn't even know was on the ship.

With not much else to do you you grabbed your book that was sitting on the coffee table, the same one you had read at least 3 times since departure. The cover was starting to bend from how much it's been read. In your sleep deprived state you weren't able to focus on a single thing the characters in the book were saying despite having read it enough to have the plot memorized.

After about 20 minutes the silence was broken by Daisuke stirring in his sleep and groaning something incoherent. The sudden noise in the otherwise quiet ship made you jump slightly. You turned your head to look over at him to see if he had gotten up.

His form was still in bed, seemingly sleeping soundly.

"Daisuke?" You called out to him, voice barely above a whisper. "You up?"

no response.

Shrugging you returned back to your book. As you continued to read the plot made less sense to you, eyes growing heavy. You quietly rejoiced and closed the book, sluggishly making your way back to your bed and pulling the covers over your body.

You shimmied around to make yourself as comfortable as possible and exhaled quietly. Sleep soon drifting over you.

The slumber was short lived as Daisuke starting shifting around again. He was mumbling incoherently a bit louder this time. Thinking he was just having a bad dream you tried to ignore him, making a half minded mental note to ask if he was fine in the morning. Once again your eyes closed and you tried to fall back asleep.

"mmmf-fuck." came a soft gasp from your crewmate.

what the fuck?

Eyes now wide open you roll over and turn to look at him.

In the soft blue glow you could see his hair was splayed across his pillow, auburn and blonde strands going every which way. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as if he was concentrating on something, Mouth slightly agape and his breathing coming out in huffs.

Another quiet moan from him made your face heat up and it clicked instantly. You weren't hearing things-it was indeed a moan.

What little sleep you did have now left your body almost instantly, a conflicted feeling taking its place.

Letting him be and acting like you didn't hear him react to whatever dream he was having was an option, you could even wake him and lie that he was snoring too loud and it was disturbing you. Both options left you feeling awkward.

A slightly louder more clear moan left his lips, "y/n please."

Your skin felt hot after hearing that, the way he said your name was doing things to you and it felt like your brain was short circuiting.

Now you didn't exactly hate the idea that Daisuke was dreaming about you, quite the opposite actually. You weren't afraid to admit that you thought Daisuke was attractive. You just never acted on it because of the whole co-workers thing. Pony Express never really made an official rule against it so who knows, maybe something to look foreword to in the future.

Unfortunately for him, you were gonna have to cut his dream short. You quietly made your way over to his bed and knelt down beside him. Placing a hand on his shoulder you shook him slightly.

"Daisuke-Daisuke hey."

He woke up with a groan and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah?"

You pulled your hand back. "Hey sorry- listen you were being a little loud and I wanna sleep."

Daisuke sat up and stretched his arms out in front of him joints cracking slightly, hair still messy from sleep. "m'sorry-Loud?" he asked groggily. You nodded "Yeah, you were making noises."

"Noises?"

You tried to quickly come up with some excuse, but Daisuke caught on to what you really meant almost instantly. His eyes widened once he realized and buried his face in his hands. "Dude y/n I'm so sorry." With a groan he pulled his hands away and sighed. "I'm really sorry-I'll go sleep in the utility room or something."

"You don't have to be sorry." You said quietly. "I'm not like, upset or anything."

Daisuke finally glanced over at you, eyes meeting yours expectantly "You're not?"

"I'm just curious I guess." In a sudden burst of confidence you slid your hand over his. "I kinda wanna know what you were dreaming about."

Daisuke paused for a moment and sucked his cheeks in and nodded. "Well uh, I was dreaming about you-God this is embarrassing."

You began to rub circles over his hand with your thumb, a way to silently offer him reassurance.

"I was dreaming that we were back home and I had invited you over- one thing lead to another and you were giving me head." He stated a full blown blush now covering his face.

You could feel your face heating up as well, no doubt sporting a blush of your own. For the second time that night you made another daring move.

"I can make that happen."

"What?"

"I said I can make that happen, If you're up for it." you repeated gazing into his eyes.

Daisuke stared at you wordlessly for a moment, caught off guard by your suggestion. "I mean yeah-yeah I'm down..Wouldn't we get caught though?"

He had somewhat of a fair point, but then again everyone was asleep. The walls were pretty thick so unless he started screeching like a banshee the likely hood of being caught was slim.

"Are you able to keep it down?"

"I think so?"

"Then what is there to worry about?" You gave him a soft smile. He gave you a sleepy grin of his own. "Alright, I guess we're doing this?" He turned his torso towards you and searched your face intently. You leaned in slowly and pressed your lips against his.

The kisses started off slow, just chaste pecks here and there. It felt like you had a flurry of butterflies in your stomach after each one. Daisuke moved his hands to your back, slowly trailing his fingers down towards your hips as the kisses began to deepen.

Both of you pulled away briefly panting slightly. Daisuke was the first one to move back in for the kiss. He moved one of his hands and placed it behind your head, keeping the other one at the small of your back. You let out a contented sigh into the kiss, trailing one of your hands up is leg slowly.

He jumped slightly, letting out a surprised noise. You chuckled and pulled away from the kiss. Lips slightly puffy. "Sorry did I scare you?"

"You caught me off guard." He said. He threw the blanket off of himself and grabbed your hand and placed it on his erection. You gave it a brief squeeze which caused him to hiss his breath. Unsure if that had hurt him or not you opted to just run your hand over the bulge and locking eyes with him.

He stared back at you, dark brown eyes filled with lust. Closing his eyes he bridged the gap between the two of you with sloppy kisses. You continued palming him through his sleep pants alternating between rougher and softer movements to gauge and see what he likes best.

After a particularly rough rub he let out a similar moan like he had done while he was dreaming. You felt those butterflies from earlier return.

"I don't think I can wait any longer." He groaned as he pulled away. Agreeing with that sentiment you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and sleep pants and pulled them down. After some shimmying and tugging of the fabric his erection sprang up, tip covered in pre.

You ghosted your fingers along his shaft experimentally, drawing a soft gasp from him. "This is okay right?" You asked softly as you gathered some of the pre from his tip and slid it down the rest of his shaft.

"Yeah-f-fuck yeah it's okay."

You began to move your hand more purposefully now, tightening your grip as you reached the base. Daisuke let out a moan of approval, letting his head fall back. You repeated the movement listening to his huffs.

"Faster please." he managed to get out.

Wordlessly you began to move your hand faster, the sound of the slick seeming to echo off of the walls. Daisuke bit his lip and groaned.

You made a mental note of this moment, storing it for later use. Who knew watching him try and remain quiet could be so attractive? You'd like to have him return the favor at some point, but for now this was about him.

You felt him twitch in your palm and his hand shot up and grasped your wrist firmly. "Too much?"

He shook his head. "I didn't want to cum just yet."

You giggled and glanced towards his face and his dick. You scooted a bit further down and bent over so your face was right in line with it. You gave his tip a quick kiss, The flavor of his pre mildly salty but not unpleasant. You gave it a few more chaste kisses then enveloped the tip into your mouth fully.

Daisuke gasped and quickly moved a hand into your hair. Fingers gently weaving themselves between your locs.

You pulled off and bobbed your head again taking him a bit further into your mouth. Each time you moved his fingers tightened slightly. You let out a contended hum and continued bobbing your head.

Daisuke was panting, soft calls of your name between breaths encouraged you to keep going. His eyes were squeezed tight skin flushed and hot. Sweat beginning to bead on his skin causing some of his hair to stick to his forehead. It was a little hard to see him from the angle you're at, but what you did see of him looked like a work of art. This really wasn't helping your little blooming crush on him.

You went down further, nose touching the base of his cock and swirling your tongue as you moved back up. The whine that came out of Daisuke's mouth went straight to your core. He sounded quite angelic.

He shifted his hips slightly and tugged your hair. "I'm so close please." he whispered. You continued to bob your head, the occasional thrust of Daisuke's hips making your pace falter slightly.

After a few more times of you bobbing up and down he let out a strangled moan and came in your mouth. You slowed your movements, helping him ride out his orgasm. Once you were sure he was finished you swallowed. You noticed the slight artificial sweet taste that it had, a side affect of his bad habit of sneaking sweetener packets.

You wiped the corners of your mouth and sat up. Daisuke was catching his breath, looking at you like you had hung to the moon. He motioned for you to come closer, pulling you in to a kiss. "Thank you that was like, really awesome."

You snorted and pecked him on the cheek. "yeah that was fun" You brushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead. "Did you wanna do it again sometime?" Daisuke smiled at you and nodded. "hell yeah. I'd really like that."

You cleared your throat and yawned. "We should get cleaned up and go to bed." Daisuke had already began to pull his boxers and sleep pants back up. You were getting ready to go back to your bed before Daisuke held you by the wrist. "Wait don't leave yet stay here."

Confused you sat in place watching as he got up to the vending machine in the corner of the lounge. He punched in a few numbers and you heard the thump of something falling. Both of you winced at how loud it was. He returned with a water bottle in hand. He opened the cap and handed it to you with a boyish grin on his face. "I wish I could do a lot more but this is all I can do for you right now."

You took the bottle with a smile. It was a sweet gesture. You thanked him and drank. The two of you sat talking for a bit until you both couldn't stay awake. Eventually you both made your way to your respective beds and fell asleep.

Maybe this was the start of a new nighttime habit between you two.

#18+ mdni #mouthwashing smut #daisuke x reader #daisuke x reader smut #daisuke mouthwashing

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catsukiiee · 2 months ago

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# DOVES. | CHAPTER ONE.

౨ৎ tenya iida x fem!reader fic.

season one of doves.

arranged marriage trope.

wordcount ; 1,565

paragraphs ; 35

sentences ; 92

reading time ; 6:15

songs used

— wedding opening song / walking down the aisle.

— the kiss + following scenes.

tropes ; arranged marriage, slowburn.

tenya iida is twenty eight instead of his canon age of twenty four.

readers age has been set to early or mid twenties for this fic (ofc you can make it any age you want, as long as it's not illegal.)

due to both of iida's parents being unnamed, i will figure out names for them in later chapters.

author's note: because i love my poc girlies, i will be writing reader to have brown skin. all brown girls can have any texture of hair, including straight/slightly straight. i never see character x reader being described as poc in this fandom so here we go!.

The weather today was soothing. The sun shone brighter than usual, with not a single cloud in the sky. It was an ideal day to be outdoors. You couldn't help but wish your life mirrored the warmth of the sun. Unfortunately, your existence was far from serene, born to a mother who would go to any lengths to satisfy her husband and daughter to a man who was consumed by his thirst for power.

In your father's eyes, you were less than human, a truth you eventually came to accept. However, the realization that your mother viewed you similarly was a painful blow.

As you sat in front of the mirror, your throat tight from suppressing tears, you caught your reflection. Your mother stood behind you, delicately placing a stunning wedding accessory in your hair.

Wedding.

A word that typically evokes joy for those who dream of uniting with their true love. Wedding days are meant to be filled with happiness, laughter, and tears of joy.

Yet all you felt was a sense of impending doom.

f l a s h b a c k..

“You are to marry the second son of the Iida family! I will not tolerate any more of your tears!” Your father's voice echoed through his cramped office, his weathered face contorted in rage, turning a deep shade of red.

“I don’t want to marry! Not him! Not anyone!” Despite your desperate protests and screams, your father's resolve remained unshaken. The sharp sting on your cheek from his slap left your ears ringing and your face burning, but you stood your ground, facing the man who had turned your life into a nightmare.

Your mother stood at the doorway, doing nothing to help as you struggled for control over your own life. When you turned to her, desperation in your eyes, her expression was icy, barely meeting your gaze. Your hands clutched hers, but she didn’t return the grip. Instead, she directed her attention to her husband. “The Iida family will cover the entire cost of the wedding.” Then she finally turned back to you, squeezing your hands, but the gesture felt anything but reassuring. “Stop acting like a child. It’s time for you to get married and contribute to this family.”

End of flashback.

“You make such an amazing bride.” She whispered, her eyes brimming with tears as she smiled, smoothing her hands down your arm before moving them up to give your shoulders a light squeeze. When you were a child your mother’s touch and gentle smiles used to bring you nothing but peace and comfort, but now her touches and gentle smiles left you disgusted, filled with anger.

Your hair was thoroughly brushed then pinned up into an elegant bun by a hairpiece that resembled doves. Your dress was a striking white, your shoulders and back was exposed, the silky lace gently tickled your shoulders and legs, your veil laid against a chair beside you, matching the same striking white lace of your wedding gown, little white doves decorated it.

You should’ve felt beautiful, the dress and your makeup was truly beautiful but all you felt was the tears threatening to spill and ruin your makeup. The gentle smile your mother offered you slightly wavered at your expression, her hands that were once gently squeezing your shoulders grew hard, her nails slightly digging into you. “Remember, you’re a grown woman, there’s no need to cry like a child.”

Her words pricked something deep inside you, your legs pushed you up before your brain could catch up to your movements. For a moment, a flicker of fear flashed in your mothers eyes as you stared at her down. “Get out.”

She was out the room within seconds, not sparing you a glance as she closed the door. For the next few minutes, your thoughts consumed every inch of your brain till they were shattered by the door opening. “I said I wanted to be alone! Why can’t you-” You paused in an instant, your yell silencing in your throat.

There stood Mrs, Iida with a wary look, her hands clutching a small white box. “Hello dear.” The corner of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled, softly closing the door as she walked further into the room. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to..” Her fingers circled around your wrist, silencing you once more. “There’s no need to apologize, I understand this whole…thing can be frightening. I just wish I could’ve changed the outcome.”

You both fell silent, the only sound being the soft rustle of the box being unwrapped by Mrs. Iida. “This was a gift to me on my wedding day, I want you to have it now.” It was a pretty pearl bracelet with a dove charm attached to it. “I added the dove, very fitting for your wedding theme.” She chuckled lightly, sliding your wedding dress right sleeve up to put the bracelet on before giving your wrist a comforting squeeze. “You look stunning, dear. I’m truly sorry that neither of us were given a choice in love.”

For the first time in months, you felt comforted by a mother’s touch, nuzzling your face into her shoulder as you pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

“Calm.” Mrs. Iida’s voice was gentle as she held your arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze while you both stood behind a large white door. The soft murmur of conversation filtered through, barely audible. You took a deep breath, but it did little to calm your nerves. Instead, you placed your hand over hers and closed your eyes, waiting for the soft notes of a song to begin. As the doors slowly opened, the chatter faded into silence.

There stood your husband, dressed in a crisp white tuxedo, save for the red tie that matched his eyes, his hands neatly clasped behind him. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had barely spoken to him.

Turbo Hero: Ingenium was finally getting married after years of insisting he wouldn’t settle down while there were still villains to defeat. The media was eager to uncover the identity of his bride, shattering the quiet you once cherished with their flashing cameras and intrusive questions.

Even at your wedding, their cameras flashed as you walked down the aisle strewn with white rose petals. Your gaze remained locked on his, your hand resting on his mother’s trembling slightly, your breath unsteady.

And for some odd reason, when he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back.

A warm tingle spread from your fingers to your hands and up your arm as Mrs. Iida placed your hand in Tenya’s. His smile remained steady, though yours faltered for just a moment.

“Hello,” he whispered, tilting his head slightly, causing a few strands of dark hair to fall over his eyes. You bowed your head slightly before meeting his gaze again. “Hi.”

The priest cleared his throat and began the ceremony. You found it hard to focus on his words, instead getting lost in the depths of Tenya’s eyes. It wasn’t that you admired his gaze; it was just the only thing that kept you grounded amidst the sea of eyes and flashing cameras.

“Now, Tenya Iida,” the priest began, a jolt of anxiety coursing through you. You had been so absorbed in his eyes that you hadn’t realized the priest was nearing the end of vows. “Do you take this lovely woman to be your bride?”

For a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Tenya’s gaze shifted from yours to the priest and back again. A part of you feared he might say no, and you almost wished he would. “I do,” he finally said, and a wave of emotion washed over you. If it weren’t for his hands holding yours, you might have collapsed.

Now it was your turn to face the priest as he asked you the same question, pausing to await your response. Your heart raced, feeling as if it might burst from your chest. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you opened your mouth, your voice trembling. “...I...I do.”

The priest smiled at you both before continuing. “Then may the Lord’s kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously fulfill His blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder.” He paused, placing a white cloth over your joined hands. “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss!”

In that moment, you completely forgot about the kiss. So when Tenya lifted your veil and cupped your face, your body froze. The guests erupted in applause and the cameras flashed, capturing the brief, sweet kiss that sealed your vows.

Tenya held your face for a moment longer before releasing you, taking your hands in his as he turned to face the audience, pulling you closer until your back pressed against his chest. The bright lights of the cameras momentarily blinded you, making you blink rapidly as tears spilled down your cheeks. You lowered your head slightly, dabbing at your tears.

Tenya’s hands moved to your waist, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear. White petals drifting down around you both, and the applause of your guests faded into a distant hum. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Iida.”

it's finally here! i rewrote this chapter so many times y'all.

enjoy this short-ish first chapter!

#x reader #tenya iida x reader #tenya iida #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader

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gaiasgrimoire · 1 month ago

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Learning Lenormand - A Beginner's Guide (Pt. 1)

The History and Origins of Lenormand

The Lenormand card system has its roots in 18th-century Europe and is named after the famous French fortune-teller, Marie-Anne Lenormand (1772–1843). Though Lenormand herself didn’t create the deck, she gained fame for reading cards for notable figures like Napoleon Bonaparte and Empress Josephine. Her reputation as a powerful seer contributed to the spread of card divination under her name.

Interestingly, the deck we know today as the Petit Lenormand actually began as a board game called the Game of Hope, created by a German man named Johann Kaspar Hechtel around 1799. The game was designed for entertainment, but the cards—illustrated with simple, everyday images like the Clover, Ship, and Letter—began being used for cartomancy (fortune-telling with cards). The 36-card Lenormand deck became a divination tool due to its practicality and accessibility, offering insight into daily life and practical matters.

How Lenormand Differs from Tarot and Oracle Cards

If you’re familiar with tarot or oracle cards, you’ll find that Lenormand brings a different energy to the table. Here are a few key differences:

Simplicity and Literal Meanings: Tarot cards often carry deep, symbolic meanings that can be interpreted in many layers. Lenormand, by contrast, is more literal and straightforward. For example, the “Rider” card usually represents news or an arrival, and the “Coffin” signifies an ending or a loss.

Combinations Are Key: While tarot cards are typically read individually or in relation to their positions, Lenormand readings rely heavily on card combinations. The meaning of one card is influenced by the surrounding cards, forming sentences or “stories” that give the reading depth.

Predictive Focus: Lenormand is much more predictive and practical. While tarot is often used for psychological or spiritual insight, Lenormand is designed to provide answers about concrete, real-life events like work, relationships, and daily challenges.

Shorter Deck: Tarot consists of 78 cards, while Lenormand has just 36, making it quicker and often easier to shuffle through.

How to Read Lenormand Cards

1. Focus on Card Combinations

In Lenormand, it’s not just about the meaning of a single card but how that card interacts with others. For instance, the Heart card on its own represents love and emotions, but paired with the Rider, it might suggest the arrival of a new love or emotional news. Pay attention to the flow of meanings when you read.

2. Start Small with Simple Spreads

The Three-Card Spread is a great place to begin. In this spread, the cards form a sentence-like structure, where each card adds context and detail to the others. For example, Man + Heart + Letter might indicate that a man is going to express his feelings through a message or letter. Once you’re comfortable, you can move on to the Nine-Card Spread, which provides more detail about a situation. For more advanced readers, the Grand Tableau, which uses all 36 cards, gives an in-depth view of various aspects of life.

3. Ask Clear, Direct Questions

Lenormand thrives on specific questions. Instead of asking something open-ended like “What does the future hold?” you might ask, “What can I expect from my job in the next three months?” This allows the cards to offer more focused guidance.

4. Key Cards to Know:

Rider: News, messages, movement.

Clover: Luck, opportunities, short-term joy.

Ship: Travel, business ventures, long journeys.

House: Home, family, stability.

Coffin: Endings, losses, or transitions.

These are just a few examples, but as you work with the cards, you’ll get to know their meanings and how they apply to various situations.

5. Journal Your Readings

Keep track of your progress by journaling your readings. Write down the question, the cards you drew, and your interpretation. Over time, this will help you refine your skills and notice patterns in the card combinations.

Lenormand offers a practical, no-nonsense approach to divination that makes it accessible for both beginners and experienced readers. Its focus on clear answers, card combinations, and everyday situations provides an excellent tool for gaining insight into life’s questions. If you’re looking for a straightforward and predictive system that balances well with tarot or oracle readings, Lenormand is a great place to start.

Happy reading!

#divination #cartomancy #lenormand #card readings #intuitive readings #witch #witchy #witchcraft

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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

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Twinkfrump Linkdump

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in CHICAGO (Apr 17), Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Welcome to the seventeenth Pluralistic linkdump, a collection of all the miscellany that didn't make it into the week's newsletter, cunningly wrought together in a single edition that ranges from the first ISP to AI nonsense to labor organizing victories to the obituary of a brilliant scientist you should know a lot more about! Here's the other 16 dumps:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

If you're reading this (and you are!), it was delivered to you by an internet service provider. Today, the ISP industry is calcified, controlled by a handful of telcos and cable companies. But the idea of an "ISP" didn't come out of a giant telecommunications firm – it was created, in living memory, by excellent nerds who are still around.

Depending on how you reckon, The Little Garden was either the first or the second ISP in America. It was named after a Palo Alto Chinese restaurant frequented by its founders. To get a sense of that founding, read these excellent recollections by Tom Jennings, whose contributions include the seminal zine Homocore, the seminal networking protocol Fidonet, and the seminal third-party PC ROM, whence came Dell, Gateway, Compaq, and every other "PC clone" company.

The first installment describes how an informal co-op to network a few friends turned into a business almost by accident, with thousands of dollars flowing in and out of Jennings' bank account:

https://www.sensitiveresearch.com/Archive/TLG/TLG.html

And it describes how that ISP set a standard for neutrality, boldly declaring that "TLGnet exercises no control whatsoever over the content of the information." They introduced an idea of radical transparency, documenting their router configurations and other technical details and making them available to the public. They hired unskilled punk and queer kids from their communities and trained them to operate the network equipment they'd invented, customized or improvised.

In part two, Jennings talks about the evolution of TLG's radical business-plan: to offer unrestricted service, encouraging their customers to resell that service to people in their communities, having no lock-in, unbundling extra services including installation charges – the whole anti-enshittification enchilada:

https://www.sensitiveresearch.com/Archive/TLG/

I love Jennings and his work. I even gave him a little cameo in Picks and Shovels, the third Martin Hench novel, which will be out next winter. He's as lyrical a writer about technology as you could ask for, and he's also a brilliant engineer and thinker.

The Little Garden's founders and early power-users have all fleshed out Jennings' account of the birth of ISPs. Writing on his blog, David "DSHR" Rosenthal rounds up other histories from the likes of EFF co-founder John Gilmore and Tim Pozar:

https://blog.dshr.org/2024/04/the-little-garden.html

Rosenthal describes some of the more exotic shenanigans TLG got up to in order to do end-runs around the Bell system's onerous policies, hacking in the purest sense of the word, for example, by daisy-chaining together modems in regions with free local calling and then making "permanent local calls," with the modems staying online 24/7.

Enshittification came to the ISP business early and hit it hard. The cartel that controls your access to the internet today is a billion light-years away from the principled technologists who invented the industry with an ethos of care, access and fairness. Today's ISPs are bitterly opposed to Net Neutrality, the straightforward proposition that if you request some data, your ISP should send it to you as quickly and reliably as it can.

Instead, ISPs want to offer "slow-lanes" where they will relegate the whole internet, except for those companies that bribe the ISP to be delivered at normal speed. ISPs have a laughably transparent way of describing this: they say that they're allowing services to pay for "fast lanes" with priority access. This is the same as the giant grocery store that charges you extra unless you surrender your privacy with a "loyalty card" – and then says that they're offering a "discount" for loyal customers, rather than charging a premium to customers who don't want to be spied on.

The American business lobby loves this arrangement, and hates Net Neutrality. Having monopolized every sector of our economy, they are extremely fond of "winner take all" dynamics, and that's what a non-neutral ISP delivers: the biggest services with the deepest pockets get the most reliable delivery, which means that smaller services don't just have to be better than the big guys, they also have to be able to outbid them for "priority carriage."

If everything you get from your ISP is slow and janky, except for the dominant services, then the dominant services can skimp on quality and pocket the difference. That's the goal of every monopolist – not just to be too big to fail, but also too big to care.

Under the Trump administration, FCC chair Ajit Pai dismantled the Net Neutrality rule, colluding with American big business to rig the process. They accepted millions of obviously fake anti-Net Neutrality comments (one million identical comments from @pornhub.com addresses, comments from dead people, comments from sitting US Senators who support Net Neutrality) and declared open season on American internet users:

https://ag.ny.gov/press-release/2021/attorney-general-james-issues-report-detailing-millions-fake-comments-revealing

Now, Biden's FCC is set to reinstate Net Neutrality – but with a "compromise" that will make mobile internet (which nearly all of use sometimes, and the poorest of us are reliant on) a swamp of anticompetitive practices:

https://cyberlaw.stanford.edu/blog/2024/04/harmful-5g-fast-lanes-are-coming-fcc-needs-stop-them

Under the proposed rule, mobile carriers will be able to put traffic to and from apps in the slow lane, and then extort bribes from preferred apps for normal speed and delivery. They'll rely on parts of the 5G standard to pull off this trick.

The ISP cartel and the FCC insist that this is fine because web traffic won't be degraded, but of course, every service is hellbent on pushing you into using apps instead of the web. That's because the web is an open platform, which means you can install ad- and privacy-blockers. More than half of web users have installed a blocker, making it the largest boycott in human history:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

But reverse-engineering and modding an app is a legal minefield. Just removing the encryption from an app can trigger criminal penalties under Section 1201 of the DMCA, carrying a five-year prison sentence and a $500k fine. An app is just a web-page skinned in enough IP that it's a felony to mod it.

Apps are enshittification's vanguard, and the fact that the FCC has found a way to make them even worse is perversely impressive. They're voting on this on April 25, and they have until April 24 to fix this. They should. They really should:

https://docs.fcc.gov/public/attachments/DOC-401676A1.pdf

In a just world, cheating ripoff ISPs would the top tech policy story. The operational practices of ISPs effect every single one us. We literally can't talk about tech policy without ISPs in the middle. But Net Neutrality is an also-ran in tech policy discourse, while AI – ugh ugh ugh – is the thing none of us can shut up about.

This, despite the fact that the most consequential AI applications sum up to serving as a kind of moral crumple-zone for shitty business practices. The point of AI isn't to replace customer service and other low-paid workers who have taken to demanding higher wages and better conditions – it's to fire those workers and replace them with chatbots that can't do their jobs. An AI salesdroid can't sell your boss a bot that can replace you, but they don't need to. They only have to convince your boss that the bot can do your job, even if it can't.

SF writer Karl Schroeder is one of the rare sf practitioners who grapples seriously with the future, a "strategic foresight" guy who somehow skirts the bullshit that is the field's hallmark:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/07/the-gernsback-continuum/#wheres-my-jetpack

Writing on his blog, Schroeder describes the AI debates roiling the Association of Professional Futurists, and how it's sucking him into being an unwilling participant in the AI hype cycle:

https://kschroeder.substack.com/p/dragged-into-the-ai-hype-cycle

Schroeder's piece is a thoughtful meditation on the relationship of SF's thought-experiments and parables about AI to the promises of AI hucksters, who promise that a) "general artificial intelligence" is just around the corner and that b) it will be worth trillions of dollars.

Schroeder – like other sf writers including Ted Chiang and Charlie Stross (and me) – comes to the conclusion that AI panic isn't about AI, it's about power. The artificial life-form devouring the planet and murdering our species is the limited liability corporation, and its substrate isn't silicon, it's us, human bodies:

What’s lying underneath all our anxieties about AGI is an anxiety that has nothing to do with Artificial Intelligence. Instead, it’s a manifestation of our growing awareness that our world is being stolen from under us. Last year’s estimate put the amount of wealth currently being transferred from the people who made it to an idle billionaire class at $5.2 trillion. Artificial General Intelligence whose environment is the server farms and sweatshops of this class is frightening only because of its capacity to accelerate this greatest of all heists.

After all, the business-case for AI is so very thin that the industry can only survive on a torrent of hype and nonsense – like claims that Amazon's "Grab and Go" stores used "AI" to monitor shoppers and automatically bill them for their purchases. In reality, the stores used thousands of low-paid Indian workers to monitor cameras and manually charge your card. This happens so often that Indian technologists joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Isn't it funny how all the really promising AI applications are in domains that most of us aren't qualified to assess? Like the claim that Google's AI was producing millions of novel materials that will shortly revolutionize all forms of production, from construction to electronics to medical implants:

https://deepmind.google/discover/blog/millions-of-new-materials-discovered-with-deep-learning/

That's what Google's press-release claimed, anyway. But when two groups of experts actually pulled a representative sample of these "new materials" from the Deep Mind database, they found that none of these materials qualified as "credible, useful and novel":

https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/acs.chemmater.4c00643

Writing about the researchers' findings for 404 Media, Jason Koebler cites Berkeley researchers who concluded that "no new materials have been discovered":

https://www.404media.co/google-says-it-discovered-millions-of-new-materials-with-ai-human-researchers/

The researchers say that AI data-mining for new materials is promising, but falls well short of Google's claim to be so transformative that it constitutes the "equivalent to nearly 800 years’ worth of knowledge" and "an order-of-magnitude expansion in stable materials known to humanity."

AI hype keeps the bubble inflating, and for so long as it keeps blowing up, all those investors who've sunk their money into AI can tell themselves that they're rich. This is the essence of "a bezzle": "The magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

Among the best debezzlers of AI are the Princeton Center for Information Technology Policy's Arvind Narayanan and Sayash Kapoor, who edit the "AI Snake Oil" blog. Now, they've sold a book with the same title:

https://www.aisnakeoil.com/p/ai-snake-oil-is-now-available-to

Obviously, books move a lot more slowly than blogs, and so Narayanan and Kapoor say their book will focus on the timeless elements of identifying and understanding AI snake oil:

In the book, we explain the crucial differences between types of AI, why people, companies, and governments are falling for AI snake oil, why AI can’t fix social media, and why we should be far more worried about what people will do with AI than about anything AI will do on its own. While generative AI is what drives press, predictive AI used in criminal justice, finance, healthcare, and other domains remains far more consequential in people’s lives. We discuss in depth how predictive AI can go wrong. We also warn of the dangers of a world where AI continues to be controlled by largely unaccountable big tech companies.

The book's out in September and it's up for pre-order now:

https://bookshop.org/p/books/ai-snake-oil-what-artificial-intelligence-can-do-what-it-can-t-and-how-to-tell-the-difference-arvind-narayanan/21324674

One of the weirder and worst side-effects of the AI hype bubble is that it has revived the belief that it's somehow possible for giant platforms to monitor all their users' speech and remove "harmful" speech. We've tried this for years, and when humans do it, it always ends with disfavored groups being censored, while dedicated trolls, harassers and monsters evade punishment:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/como-is-infosec/

AI hype has led policy-makers to believe that we can deputize online services to spy on all their customers and block the bad ones without falling into this trap. Canada is on the verge of adopting Bill C-63, a "harmful content" regulation modeled on examples from the UK and Australia.

Writing on his blog, Canadian lawyer/activist/journalist Dimitri Lascaris describes the dire speech implications for C-63:

https://dimitrilascaris.org/2024/04/08/trudeaus-online-harms-bill-threatens-free-speech/

It's an excellent legal breakdown of the bill's provisions, but also a excellent analysis of how those provisions are likely to play out in the lives of Canadians, especially those advocating against genocide and taking other positions the that oppose the agenda of the government of the day.

Even if you like the Trudeau government and its policies, these powers will accrue to every Canadian government, including the presumptive (and inevitably, totally unhinged) near-future Conservative majority government of Pierre Poilievre.

It's been ten years since Martin Gilens and Benjamin I Page published their paper that concluded that governments make policies that are popular among elites, no matter how unpopular they are among the public:

https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/perspectives-on-politics/article/testing-theories-of-american-politics-elites-interest-groups-and-average-citizens/62327F513959D0A304D4893B382B992B

Now, this is obviously depressing, but when you see it in action, it's kind of wild. The Biden administration has declared war on junk fees, from "resort fees" charged by hotels to the dozens of line-items added to your plane ticket, rental car, or even your rent check. In response, Republican politicians are climbing to their rear haunches and, using their actual human mouths, defending junk fees:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-04-12-republicans-objectively-pro-junk-fee/

Congressional Republicans are hell-bent on destroying the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau's $8 cap on credit-card late-fees. Trump's presumptive running-mate Tim Scott is making this a campaign plank: "Vote for me and I will protect your credit-card company's right to screw you on fees!" He boasts about the lobbyists who asked him to take this position: champions of the public interest from the Consumer Bankers Association to the US Chamber of Commerce.

Banks stand to lose $10b/year from this rule (which means Americans stand to gain $10b/year from this rule). What's more, Scott's attempt to kill the rule is doomed to fail – there's just no procedural way it will fly. As David Dayen writes, "Not only does this vote put Republicans on the spot over junk fees, it’s a doomed vote, completely initiated by their own possible VP nominee."

This is an hilarious own-goal, one that only brings attention to a largely ignored – but extremely good – aspect of the Biden administration. As Adam Green of Bold Progressives told Dayen, "What’s been missing is opponents smoking themselves out and raising the volume of this fight so the public knows who is on their side."

The CFPB is a major bright spot in the Biden administration's record. They're doing all kind of innovative things, like making it easy for you to figure out which bank will give you the best deal and then letting you transfer your account and all its associated data, records and payments with a single click:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

And now, CFPB chair Rohit Chopra has given a speech laying out the agency's plan to outlaw data-brokers:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/prepared-remarks-of-cfpb-director-rohit-chopra-at-the-white-house-on-data-protection-and-national-security/

Yes, this is some good news! There is, in fact, good news in the world, bright spots amidst all the misery and terror. One of those bright spots? Labor.

Unions are back, baby. Not only do the vast majority of Americans favor unions, not only are new shops being unionized at rates not seen in generations, but also the largest unions are undergoing revolutions, with control being wrestled away from corrupt union bosses and given to the rank-and-file.

Many of us have heard about the high-profile victories to take back the UAW and Teamsters, but I hadn't heard about the internal struggles at the United Food and Commercial Workers, not until I read Hamilton Nolan's gripping account for In These Times:

https://inthesetimes.com/article/revolt-aisle-5-ufcw-grocery-workers-union

Nolan profiles Faye Guenther, president of UFCW Local 3000 and her successful and effective fight to bring a militant spirit back to the union, which represents a million grocery workers. Nolan describes the fight as "every bit as dramatic as any episode of Game of Thrones," and he's not wrong. This is an inspiring tale of working people taking power away from scumbag monopoly bosses and sellout fatcat leaders – and, in so doing, creating a institution that gets better wages, better working conditions, and a better economy, by helping to block giant grocery mergers like Kroger/Albertsons.

I like to end these linkdumps on an up note, so it feels weird to be closing out with an obituary, but I'd argue that any celebration of the long life and many accomplishments of my friend and mentor Anne Innis Dagg is an "up note."

I last wrote about Anne in 2020, on the release of a documentary about her work, "The Woman Who Loved Giraffes":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/#annedagg

As you might have guessed from the title of that doc, Anne was a biologist. She was the first woman scientist to do field-work on giraffes, and that work was so brilliant and fascinating that it kicked off the modern field of giraffology, which remains a woman-dominated specialty thanks to her tireless mentoring and support for the scientists that followed her.

Anne was also the world's most fearsome slayer of junk-science "evolutionary psychology," in which "scientists" invent unfalsifiable just-so stories that prove that some odious human characteristic is actually "natural" because it can be found somewhere in the animal kingdom (i.e., "Darling, please, it's not my fault that I'm fucking my grad students, it's the bonobos!").

Anne wrote a classic – and sadly out of print – book about this that I absolutely adore, not least for having one of the best titles I've ever encountered: "Love of Shopping" Is Not a Gene:

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/11/04/love-of-shopping-is-not-a-gene-exposing-junk-science-and-ideology-in-darwinian-psychology/

Anne was my advisor at the University of Waterloo, an institution that denied her tenure for fifty years, despite a brilliant academic career that rivaled that of her storied father, Harold Innis ("the thinking person's Marshall McLuhan"). The fact that Waterloo never recognized Anne is doubly shameful when you consider that she was awarded the Order of Canada:

https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/queen-of-giraffes-among-new-order-of-canada-recipients-with-global-influence

Anne lived a brilliant live, struggling through adversity, never compromising on her principles, inspiring a vast number of students and colleagues. She lived to ninety one, and died earlier this month. Her ashes will be spread "on the breeding grounds of her beloved giraffes" in South Africa this summer:

https://obituaries.therecord.com/obituary/anne-innis-dagg-1089534658

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/13/goulash/#material-misstatement

Image: Valeva1010 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hungarian_Goulash_Recipe.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

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uncharismatic-fauna · 1 year ago

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Say Hi to the Spotted Hyena

The spotted hyena is also known, perhaps most famously, as the laughing hyena (Crocuta crocuta). This species once ranged throughout Eurasia, but following the end of the Ice Age was restricted to sub-Saharan Africa. Today they can be found in many types of dry, open habitat, including savannah, semi-desert, and mountain forests. At times, the spotted hyena may also enter urban areas in search of food.

Unlike other hyenas, Crocuta crotuta is a predator, not a scavenger. They most commonly prey on wildebeast, but they may also hunt zebra, gazelles, Cape buffalo, and warthog. In addition, desperate times may cause packs to hunt on more dangerous prey such as young hippopotamus, giraffe, and rhinoceros. Spotted hyenas have incredible endurance, reaching speeds of 60 km/hr (37 mph); a single chase can last over 24 km (14 miles). When live prey is scarce, the laughing hyena can also turn to carrion, as well as snakes and ostrich eggs. In turn, this species may be killed by lions, though this may be motivated more by competition than prey drive.

Spotted hyena females are typically larger than males, weighing 44.5��67.6 kg (98–149 lb) to the males' 40.5–69.2 kg (89.3–153 lb). The height range for both sexes lies between 70–91.5 cm (27.6–36.0 in). In addition, female laughing hyena are somewhat famous for their masculinated genetalia; the clitoris is enlarged, resembling a penis, and is accompanied by sacs filled with fibrous tissue that resemble a scrotum. As the name implies, the coat is light brown with darker spots over most of the body. Because the species has such a wide diet, it has was is considered to be the strongest in relation to size of any mammal. The bite force is stronger than that of a brown bear, and can exert a force of 4,500 newtons-- enough to crush bone.

The laughing hyena is a highly social animal, and individuals live in communities up to 80 strong; size largely depends on prey availability and whether or not the group migrates. A clan territory can be anywhere from 40 km (24 mi) to 1000 (621mi) squared. Females dominate the males, and a pack is usually led by a matriarch. Hierarchies are strictly enforced, and positions are primarily inherited through birth and transferred through death. In addition, one's rank is maintained and recognized through social alliances and their contributions to the clan rather than size or dominance displays. The entirety of the clan comes together most often when defending a territory, gathering at the communal den, or at a kill; however, these kills are more commonly produced from smaller offshoots of the clan.

Crocuta crotuta can breed year-round, though mating is at its peak during the wet season from April to June. Members of both sexes pair indiscriminately with multiple mates, both within their clan and without. To offer himself, the male performs a mating ritual in which he lowers himself to the ground before the female, and retreats if any aggression is shown. Once impregnated, the female carries for about 110 days before giving birth to two cubs-- three is fairly rare. Weaning takes another 14 to 18 months, during which time cubs learn to hunt and defend the clan, as well as establish their place in the social hierarchy. Sootted hyenas reach maturity at about 3 years old, and can live an average of 12 years in the wild, though individuals as old as 25 have been recorded.

Conservation status: The spotted hyena has been determined Least Concern by the IUCN. However, outside protected areas the population is declining due to deforestation and hunting as a nuisance species.

If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a ko-fi!

Photos

Augusto Bila

Elise Pianegonda

Evie Davidian

Art Wolfe

#spotted hyena #Carnivora #Hyaenidae #hyenas #carnivores #mammals #savannahs #savannah mammals #grasslands #grassland mammals #scrubland #scrubland mammals #africa #sub saharan africa #animal facts #biology #zoology #requested

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malnivia · 5 months ago

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My contribution to the challenge! Enjoy

(Warning: some angst, a couple swears)

***

Cleaning the shelves. Dusting the books. Rereading the same story all over, again and again until you are finally determined worthy of another less repetitive task.

"Well, that was the last of me," he murmured and got up from his chair.

He could not handle anymore of this crap. Not today, at least not right now. The headache was getting worse and the more he read, the more letters seemed to be more like blurry lines with no pattern in sight.

It was time for him to run.

He laughed nervously when leaving the room. It was that easy. Because they never even were here to keep an eye out for their tasks getting completed. They never had to – he was a perfect student and apprentice and every other random rank he had been given in order to establish the givers as the good ones. Because he would never leave that dark dusty room to wander off to other endeavors. He was taught not to from a young age.

Worried, but determined, a boy with black hair and light-blue eyes hastened to the key chamber to outrun the reasonable thoughts in his head, telling him to go back.

The creaky door announced itself to all of the library halls. Behind it there were carefully placed artifacts in form of keys, hidden from the eyes of the gullible and common outlanders.

Not from the perfect apprentice they aren't, that's for sure

"Which one should I take?" the guy from before put his thumb on his chin and scratched it in a very asshole-y way, as if he was proving some kind of point to the non-existing audience. The point being "No, you cannot understand me, I am simply more intelligent and literate than all of you and your family combined."

Anyway, his gaze has fallen onto the easiest key there is – the Heroine Key. He was never given that one for reasons, obvious to Ex Libris, yet unknown to him. Well, he never really yearned for it since the experience it offers is truly horrendous. After all, what heroines do most of the time is fall in love and spend time with the fictional princes – who in their right mind would want to do that? But this time it was not about the story rather than the simple concept of walking around, doing nothing – something he could never afford.

Finally, he grabbed the key and turned his head to the closest shelf there. "Snow White" is the first one he saw and with no room for anxious thoughts and doubts, he puts the key in the book and vanishes.

***

Once upon a time... A dude falls from the sky.

He appears then in a castle, surrounded by beautiful and high walls, in a room that looks like princesses' chambers. But the boy doesn't spare a single glance – he is truly fed up with the fairytale settings and, having visited so many stories, has lost the ability to enjoy these fantasy surroundings.

Although something does catch his eye... A weird colorful outline coming from his clothes which were supposed to be dark and stylish.

"What the-" he uttered with a hint of hate and genuine disgust as he looked into the mirror nearby and realised what he was wearing – a beautiful dress with a skirt of a golden color, with navy blue puffy sleeves and some red gems around it. He also notices a red short bow in his hair.

Truly, a horror.

"What does it think it's doing?" he referred to the key which was the creator of this outfit. The keys were rarely talked to and if they were, it was not to ask them for a new fashion choice, that's why the guy was so weirded out.

And when you think the situation couldn't get worse – he wasn't even able to punish it (with words). Taking artifacts off of their keychains was strictly forbidden without supervision to ensure no slip-ups and runaways.

The bottom line being, all the boy could do was complain about this situation under his nose.

After 5 minutes of very inappropriate words, he finally let it go and went on on his endeavors, his voice now muttering the plot of the book like some sort of incastation that would make the real world problems vanish away from his brain:

"Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Snow White. Snow White was very beautiful" he rambled while passing through the corridors. "Her skin was as white as snow, her hair as black as the ebony wood and her lips were as red as a red, red rose."

Who even has the lips of a double red rose? Clearly, the princess applied some lipstick before starting the story. "Now now, that's just cheating" a boy thought while stepping out of the castle. "Really, this is supposed to be medieval with no make-up business in sight. Me, I would prefer if my lips were compared to the actual color they are" he considered while gracefully stepping through the garden.

"Excuse me, your Highness!" a voice echoed behind him and he turned to see a local huntsman getting closer. "Princess, would you like to go on a walk in the forest with me?"

"Ah, the part where I get left behind" princess pondered.

"I would love to accept your proposal, sir" he stated instead since he was taught better than to mess with the story's flow of events.

And so they went on a walk. It wasn't really a two-person walk since Snow White has long forgotten how to relax and talk to people his social status and could only reminisce on the plot carved into his mind. He put his hands behind him and didn't pay attention to the character near him until the man cried:

"Princess, I... I have to tell you something. I believe I forgot the... the task I was given by her Majesty. I am going to have leave you."

"What? Aren't you gonna do some work and show me a place to hide from my stepmother?" the princess was very confused as to why is the story different from what he has read.

"E-excuse me, miss. But, you should stay in the forest. It's not safe at the palace right now." the huntsman mumbled with clearly no idea of a good excuse to leave.

The princess couldn't believe his ears. To think that the least this measly character would do is follow the story exactly and yet he doesn't. Snow White felt pissed and very annoyed.

"Ugh, whatever. I am in no need of my mother's subject who can't even do a casual job of killing me..." he said, whispering the last words to escape the leaving man's attention. He watched him go and after he was left alone, he realised... how quiet it actually was.

Is anyone doing their job around here? The huntsman ain't unaliving little girls and now the birds are not singing and helping out the princess. Well, guess what? Today is the opposite day. So, our heroine is going to seat right here and not move for a single inch.

...

Why would it matter anyway... If he went looking for the dwarves' hut, he would have to clean it – basically, more work for the errand boy.

He sat down by the tree in search of some comfort. The headache could not be erased by the magic of Ex Libris, but at least it wasn't getting worse – more like frozen in time.

The boy now had time to dwell on.

He wanted so much to happen, but nothing did. He was still dusting the books and reorganizing the shelves and rereading the same fricking books over and over again. It felt like no life at all. Every meeting, every training session gave him no enjoyment at all – they all became just one single mess of chores that he had to deal with.

Suddenly the boy felt his eyes getting wet. He couldn't believe it. He quickly got up from sulking (which he apparently was doing) and tried to distract himself to avoid the tears coming. After all, what good of an apprentice who cries whenever he gives in a bit too much to ponder on casualties of the present?

He then started thinking about simpler things. He thought of what the Queen was doing at the moment and the words came up to him as if he had the page opened right in front of him.

"Famed as thy beauty, Majesty,

But behold, a lovely maid I see.

Alas, she is more fair than thee,

Lips as red as a rose,

Hair as black as ebony" he brushed his hair off of his face.

"Skin as white as snow."

He sat there for a silent moment before clapping his eyes twice in a rush of thought.

"What?"

He swiftly returned his locks to the same spot.

"Hair as black as ebony huh," he realised only now when looking at his short hair. It was quite dark, a color of night.

"Skin as white as snow..." he then focused his eyes on the hand that was holding the hair, now leaving it behind. His hands were indeed pretty pale.

Instinctively, he touched his lips, but swiftly rolled his eyes after realising that they were clearly not as red as any red, red rose.

"I suppose we're not so different, now are we?" he said to himself. "And without the appearances, we are still both scullery maids, assigned by our predecessors. And in no power to express our opinion." he nervously laughed. "It's almost as if the only difference is that..."

He started, but didn't have the strength to finish.

What he wanted to say was, that in contrast to him... Snow White has a good ending. The evil Queen dies and even though the girl falls asleep, not only she gets kissed by her true love, but the random dwarves and forest animals make a damn good funeral for her.

He's definitely not asking for true love stuff... But a comfortable coffin does sound nice – as well as the people mourning him. Would someone actually do that for him? The Ex Libris probably don't have the patience and the generosity to arrange a little something of an event. Even if they would, it feels really difficult for the boy to believe in something like that.

...

Suddenly, he hears a sob. It's coming from him.

"Well... At least the old man can't hear me," he thinks before letting the tears free.

***

Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Snow White.

Snow White was very beautiful.

Her skin was as white as snow, her hair as black as the ebony wood and her life – as miserable as the most miserable life could be.

#cinderella boy webtoon #cinderella boy #cinderella boy may art challenge #not really art #but at some point it is tho #fanfic

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crazypsychonerdstuff · 2 years ago

Note

Hello... 👉👈Erm may ask you to for something bayverse Ironhide comforting (human) reader when she am having a bad day? I'm having slight depression and want to him to hug me. xx❤️xx

Wow! Written in 2 hours!! (Sorry, it's not my best work. I'm a little out of practice!) I hope it will suffice anon and hope you feel better soon, depression sucks, I know from experience. If you ever want to chat about anything, just drop by, I'm not as scary as I might seem. Really, I'm not!

-🦂

"I'm fine 'Hide, just leave me alone." That was the fifth time today that someone had asked if you were alright, and if you were to be honest, it was getting a little tiring. First it was Ratchet after he'd discovered you "sulking" near his work bench, then Sam (he was the only one who seemed to respect your request for space.), then Bumblebee who, despite your best efforts to shoo him away without upsetting him, stubbornly remained with you for the best part of half an hour, albeit in his alt mode, then Lennox decided he needed to contribute to your already low mood by giving you a lecture and now, just to top it all off, the walking armoury himself had decided to get involved in your misery.

"You are not fine. my one optic may not be what it once was," He tapped the battlescarred metal surrounding his right eye. "But I'm not blind." his deep vioce lacking its usual edge.

You didn't look at him as you replied, partially to hide the moisture in your eyes but more to hide the blush dusting your cheeks at the mech's proximity. "Really 'Hide, I said I'm fine."

"Yes, and I said you're not..." He paused and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him look away and, if you didn't know the autobot better, you'd have said he seemed embarassed as he settled himself near the end of the sofa you were currently curled up on. "... Do you need a hug?"

You buried your face in your knees that were pulled up to your chest: "No, I don't need a bloody h... Wait, what did you say?" You were unsure if you had heard the large 'bot correctly.

"I said, do you... Do you need a hug?"

You nodded hesitantly, not quite trusting your own voice to answer with words.

"Come on then." Ironhide held one massive servo out for you to climb onto, which you did, before he lifted you carefully from the sofa and to his chest, gently rubbing your back with his thumb as his servo came to rest over your small form, hugging you the best he could due to your size difference.

"Thanks 'Hide." you wrapped your arms as far around his neck as you were physically able, leaning into his hard, metallic body while trying to fight back tears.

He patted your back gently; "no problem sweetspark... You know I'm always here if you need me, right?"

You could no longer hold back the tears you'd been trying so hard to prevent from falling and ended up sobbing uncontrollbly into the large mech's embrace.

After a few moments, your outburst seemed to subside a little, and you managed to compose yourself enough to utter a few words: "I'm sorry... You shouldn't... you shouldn't have to see me like this... You must think I'm being pathetic."

"You are not being pathetic." His servo ever so gently squeezed you in an attempt to reassure you. "No one, I don't care who they are, can be strong all of the time."

"Oh yeah? I've never seen you get all emotional over nothing." You dried your eyes on your sleeve before curling up closer to his neck, nuzzling your face against his audio receptor.

"That is because I hide it well, little one. Do you think that there is a single sane being out there who would not be affected by what we have both seen? I think not." He leaned his head against your smaller form comfortingly. "Please don't feel afraid or ashamed to come to me whenever you feel like this. I admit, I may not seem the most compasssionate or approachable individual, but I can always offer you company and cuddles if you should want them."

"Thank you 'Hide. It.. it means a lot to me." You gave his cheek a chaste kiss before closing your eyes and leaning into him.

"Any time sweetspark..." He purred, nuzzling against you, an uncharacteristically soft expression on his rugged features, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. Your troubles, though not completely diminished, now seemed much less significant now that you had Ironhide to confide in.

#my writing #transformers #bayverse #ironhide #x reader #ironhide x reader #bayverse ironhide #bayverse ironhide x reader

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yousefalashi3 · 4 days ago

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My name is Yusuf,

I’m 26 years old, and I am from Gaza. I graduated from university and started working at a sewing factory, where I worked hard to support my small family. I was responsible for my younger siblings, and my heart was filled with pride because I saw in them hope for a better future. We lived together in a small home, but it was full of love and warmth. Every corner of that house reminded me of the beautiful moments we shared, from the laughter of the children to the whispers of my parents encouraging us to chase our dreams.

We had big hopes for the future, dreams that seemed endless. I pictured myself one day in a better place, able to provide for my siblings and my family. Safety filled our lives, and everything seemed to be going well.

But the endless wars in Gaza came and turned our world upside down. We were not prepared for what happened. In a single moment, war destroyed our home and ripped apart everything beautiful that we had. The sounds of bombings, the people I loved, the memories that comforted us—everything disappeared in an instant. I lost everything, including the sense of security and peace that once surrounded us. War took it all from us, yet we survived.

We were forced to flee to southern Gaza, where we now live in a small tent. We no longer have a home to shelter us like before, and there is no warmth in the walls around us. We face the bitter cold of winter with no refuge except the tent that offers no protection from the storms. Every night, I eat in silence, my eyes filled with tears for the past we lost and the uncertain future that lies ahead. Yet, despite all the suffering, I hold on to hope and try to convince myself that life must go on.

https://gofund.me/8dd113e5

Today, I write these words and ask for your help and support for my family. We don’t need much; all we need is assistance to get through this crisis. We are not asking for much—just a chance to live with dignity and hope for a better future so that we can stand on our feet again.

If you are able to help, your donation can make a significant difference in our lives. Every contribution, no matter how small, will help us build a new hope.

#autos #art #architecture #anime and manga #animals #aesthetic #trending #free palestine #free gaza

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aphrodisiac-siren · 2 years ago

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Slytherin Aemond x Reader ~Hogwarts AU

Part 3

You instinctively scoffed when you felt his presence next to yours at the table in the dining hall.

Aemond rarely ever sat next to you but given the events of the previous night, he decided to pick a spot at your left, awkwardly looking toward you as you read the notes for today's quiz.

"Are you feeling any better?" he stiffly asked, his amber wood cologne toning down the smell of whiskey and smoke that lingered around him.

"Yes, I'm fine" you irritatedly said, aggressively flipping through the pages of your notebook. You weren’t particularly upset at him, you were just mad you managed to get drunk one night before a test.

"Oh don’t mind her" Alys casually stated as she cut herself a slice of toast in half, noticing the confusion on Aemond's face "she's been like this all morning with everyone"

"Shh" you sharply hissed, causing your best friend Alys to giggle. She found it adorable how seriously you took these small tests that absolutely did not count nor contribute to your grade.

Aemond pressed his lips into a line, nodding at Alys' statement before he reached out to grab himself a cup of tea. From your hostile disposition, which wasn’t uncommon from you before any test though this was the first time he had approached you when you were in one of those moods, he had concluded that you had absolutely no memory of the previously night.

Wrong. He was so wrong. You remembered all of it.

How could you be stupid enough to chug an entire bottle of dragon barrel brandy? And then furthermore, proceed to let it slip to Aemond that you found him attractive.

There was another thing that you seem to have a hazy memory of, something that barely even felt like it had happened.

Aemond had called you beautiful.

You knew it wasn’t impossible for Aemond to fancy someone but you did know that much that it would never be you. How could he like someone to who he barely ever spoke? And judging by his cold and mysterious nature, it was very uncharacteristic of him to blatantly state that he found someone, or in this case you, beautiful.

Alcohol was a nuisance.

As soon as breakfast was done with, you and Alys headed off to potions class. The quiz went better than expected and even though Aemond had offered to let you copy off his sheet since you didn’t get to study much after the party, you managed to write the entire paper without copying a single word off his test.

You knew that even if you weren’t prepared, you wouldn’t copy off of his sheet. You wouldn’t let him feel that level of superiority.

By the time you turned in your paper, the other's had left.

"Ah, finally done I see" professor Slughorn smiled as he took the long sheet of parchment from you "oh and uh, would you mind giving Mr Targaryen his textbook back? I borrowed it earlier at the beginning of class and seemed to have forgiven to return it to him when he was on his way out"

"He'll be at quidditch practice now sir" you told, knowing well the schedule of when the grounds were occupied by your house's team "can't one of his mates give it to him?"

"Yes go on and call on one of his mates, oh wait- you can’t now, can you?" he chuckled as he reminded you playfully that you were the only one left in the class "you needn’t have to give to him right this instant. You are from the same house, just meet him in the common room"

You sighed, taking the book from him and putting it into your bag. You didn’t have any more classes for another hour and a half so you decided to go back and read in the common room. Alys had taken herbology so she, unlike you, did not have a free period. By the time you'd reached the stairway to the Slytherin common room, you remembered that the password had changed as it did every few weeks and you hadn’t bothered to take a look at the new password that was pinned on the little board by the dorm rooms. You would’ve asked someone but oddly enough to your inconvenience there was no one by that stairway.

Huffing in annoyance, you decided to make better use of your time and headed for the grounds to return to Aemond his textbook.

The walk wasn’t too long and you were at the boys' practice in no time. You expected for them to be up in the air, brainstorming defence strategies but all you could see them do was run around the field, dodging a bludger that they'd let loose. They were acting like children, laughing and running about shirtless and they all looked up to keep an eye out for the jinxed sports ball.

"Oi- watch it!"

Aemond harshly pulled you toward him, seconds before the bludger slammed into the ground right where you were stood moments ago.

"Thought you lot would be practising" you raised a brow, clearly judging them "perhaps your last victory has made you a little too confident"

"Confidence is good" Aemond said almost in an instant.

"Fine line between confidence and over-confidence, Aems" you grinned "confidence is when you've practised hard enough to know you'll win the next match. Overconfidence is believing you look good enough to be walking around without a shirt on"

Aemond chuckled at your statement. He knew the latter part of your reply held no truth. The boy was well aware of his good physique; his toned abs and slightly buff arms would leave many girls drooling at the sight if they were permitted to watch practice.

"Confidence is when I know you like what you see" he matched your grin "overconfidence is you thinking you could just waltz into our practice when you know you aren’t allowed here"

"You call this practical?" you eyed one of the boys in the distance who tried to grab ahold of the bludger but instead missed and ran straight into another one of his teammates, sending them both to the ground.

"Did you come here to critique us or is there another reason behind your visit?" Aemond asked; as captain, he most certainly did not like you commenting on his team.

You reached into your bag and pulled out his book, shoving it to his chest as you briefly mentioned that professor Slughorn had asked you to give it to him.

"And for the record" you added as you were zipping your bag shut "I most certainly do not like what I see"

"Odd" Aemond pretended to be lost in thought "that's not what you told me last night"

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or irritation. Aemond grinned at you.

"From what I recall, you too had something to say about me" you immediately blurted out, knowing full well that it most likely was something that never even happened.

"So you aren’t flat out denying that you did state something last night that hinted that you-"

"No" you quickly shut him up but the silence only lasted for a few seconds.

"Allow me to coach you on what confidence and cowardice is," he said, taking your little English lesson a little further, softening his voice so that the others might not hear him "cowardice is you refusing to admit you find me attractive meanwhile confidence, is me not hesitating to remind you that I do in fact think you are beautiful"

Aemond didn’t know what had possessed him to repeat his statement from last night; the very same statement that he was hopeful you'd forgotten.

It was unlike him to compliment someone with such boldness, especially since neither of you were really close.

Perhaps it was the jealousy he'd locked away years ago, back when his older cousin Draco Malfoy was still attending Hogwarts.

He remembered seeing you the first day he'd boarded the train, at the age of eleven. He was a shy little fellow at the time, not as good with words as he was now.

That was the very first time he'd seen you, wandering about the train hoping to find someplace for you to sit for the entirety of the train ride to Hogwarts.

He'd found you pretty, that much he could recall clearly. He was hoping you would ask him if you could join him, hoping that you were just as sweet at you seemed. Hoping to make a new friend.

Instead, you went and sat along with some of the second years who had sweetly offered for you join them.

That was the first time Aemond felt his heart drop with disappointment.

After you had been sorted into the same house as him, Aemond had felt a tinge of hope; maybe now he would have a chance of befriending you.

Y/N, he thought to himself, her name suites her. He hadn’t been able to talk to you to even ask your name. It was only when your name was announced during the sorting hat ceremony did he find out what you were called.

He waited patiently as you happily hopped off the little stool, making your way to the Slytherin table. He even scooted a bit to the side to make the space next to him much more evident. Instead, when you had reached the table, you went and sat next to some of the older children.

Why didn’t you want to sit beside him when there was a perfectly empty spot available? Was it because of his silly eye patch? Did you find him too ugly to have as your friend?

That was the second time Aemond felt his heart drop with disappointment.

In his fourth year, his cousin Draco managed to get a lot closer to you. It was no secret within the house that Draco Malfoy had taken a liking toward Y/N. What annoyed him, even more, was that Draco knew of Aemond's slight fancy for you but still proceeded to try his own luck with you anyway.

Aemond remembered, clear as day, when Slytherin had won a quidditch match against Hufflepuff and Draco immediately left to find you after the game while the rest of the team hit the showers. Once Aemond had changed into a clean set of clothes, he walked out of the locker room only to find you and Draco kissing at the other end of the long corridor.

That was the third time Aemond felt his heart drop with disappointment.

He remembered the battle of Hogwarts that took place when the both of you were in your fifth year.

You and Draco had broken up, no one knew why but it was rumoured that it was because you found out that he'd joined the death eaters.

Aemond fought in close proximity with you that entire time, his eye never letting you out of his vision. He remembered how at one point Draco was asked to pick between Hogwarts or the dark lord; how his father and mother pressured him into joining them. How shattered you looked when you saw Draco leave your side to stand by them.

I'm still here, Aemond thought as he looked at you from the corner of his eye, I've been here the entire time, If only you bothered to look at me.

But no, it was clear that your heart was still beating for Draco despite him leaving you all to join the dark lord, granted that it was imposed upon him to do so. You still wanted Draco and not Aemond.

That was the fourth time Aemond felt his heart drop with disappointment.

By the time Aemond entered into his sixth year, he'd gone though a big change. His hair was a bit outgrown, his height increased and his voice a bit deeper and huskier. His shoulders were broad and because of the extensive practice, his skills at quidditch too had improved- making him the captain. All of a sudden girls were swooning for him, sending him letters or other gifts of admiration

The attention was a bit overwhelming at first but despite his spike in popularity among the girls, it did not spark any interest from you. You barely even spoke to him unless it was while you both studied in the library or a bit of small talk on your way to class.

Even when you attended parties, you never really spoke much to him. You were at last his friend, ever since you both were paired together to wok on an assignment but beyond that, there was no room for anything else to grow. By the looks of it, you seemed to want nothing more from him other than him just simply being your classmate.

That was the fifth time Aemond felt his heart drop with disappointment.

Now it was his last year at Hogwarts and suddenly, he began to dread the idea of finishing school without ever securing a chance with you. Perhaps that was what made him blurt out that he found you beautiful.

Perhaps

Perhaps not

But either way, he knew he wasn’t going to graduate without even trying his luck with you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond smut #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #harry potter #slytherin #hogwarts

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oceaniawashbasin · 1 month ago

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violettduchess · 1 year ago

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Hello! Congrats again on the big 1k! May I request #14 kissing to try it out + Gilbert in your Wild West AU, with a side of enemies to lovers? Or if you just wanna photoshop Gilbert's head onto a scantily-clad cowboy, that's cool too. Totes up to you! Thank you and happy writing! Yeehaw 🌵🤠🖤

A/N: Here you go @atelier-the-atelier 💜 I love that you love AUs as much as I do and I hope I did our boy proud in his first role as a cowboy 😉

A contribution to @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady's Different Universe Same Love CCC; an entry for my 1k First Kiss Celebration with the kiss prompt: "Let's try it out"

Warning: Spoiler for Gilbert's route ⚠️

Gilbert x female Reader

WC: 2.8 k

It’s a long way from town to get to the hot springs on the very edge of Rhodolite County, but every aching muscle in your body is telling you it’ll be worth it. You would ride as far as Benitoite if it meant you could have some peace and quiet and time to recover from today.

Sheriff Michel had been pleased with you. Single-handedly stopping a stagecoach robbery by a band of Obsidian ruffians is no small feat. Add to that the fact that you’re a woman and half a head shorter than these varmints? Hot damn. When you had shown up with the three men tied together, several with missing teeth and black eyes and one with a bullet hole in his shoulder, the sheriff’s lips had lifted in a cool smile before he nodded for them to be taken away to the county jail.

“This is why you’re Chief Deputy,” he said, offering you a satisfied nod. “Now go and take the rest of the day to recover.” It was an order, loud and clear.

And the best place to recover from an ordeal like tussling with bandits is the hot springs. You can see them now up ahead. Nestled into the narrow gap of a rocky ravine are several small pools of dark water, each one right next to the other. Above you the sky is a bright and brilliant blue, the sun shining high enough that you know you have plenty of time until nightfall.

You slide off your horse with a grunt, then turn to pat his neck affectionately. “Go on now, Luke. Find yourself some grub.” He snorts, shaking his mane of red hair, and then wanders towards the side of the ravine where taller, darker grass is growing freely. You never worry about him coming back. He’s one of the most loyal creatures you have ever known.

Soon your clothes are folded, resting on top of a smooth, flat stone, warmed by the sun. Your worn boots, with their scuff marks like battle scars, rest on the ground beside it. You consider moving your holster and gun to a patch of ground right behind you but decide to lay it across your boots so it won’t get wet. Your hat is the last thing you remove, tossing it with casual ease so that it lands on top of your clothing, perched there like it was on display.

You pause a second, stretching your arms up towards the endless blue of the sky, enjoying the feel of the wind as it ribbons itself around your bare body. If someone asked you what freedom feels like, it would be this. Just you and the world and nothing in between.

Carefully you step towards the edge of the dark blue water and then lower yourself in, inch by inch. The heat engulfs you and you sink down until only your head and shoulders are uncovered.

Good lord, if this ain’t heaven.

The warmth kneads its way across your sore muscles, untying knots and soothing aches. Your eyes fall closed and you allow your head to tip back, your throat exposed and vulnerable but you don’t care. You don’t need to worry about protecting yourself 'cause there isn’t anyone here but you and the water and a whole lot of nothing for miles.

“Now this is a sight.”

Like a bullet through muslin his voice tears through your peaceful relaxation.

Several thoughts, wild as runaway trains, collide in your mind at the same time: No! Why? Go away! Fuck!

Forcing yourself to remain calmer than you feel, you open your eyes.

In front of you stands The Trampling Beast himself, the outlaw Gilbert von Obsidian, leader of the Obsidian gang and a wanted man from here to the Acroite territories. The gold accents on his signature black leather boots and belt buckle gleam in the sunlight. His leather-gloved hands rest casually on narrow hips, but the deadly LeMat revolver at his side is just inches away. He tips his beautiful onyx Diamond cowboy hat in greeting, smiling at you with his perfect, white teeth. He reminds you of the drawings you’ve seen of tigers in those science periodicals the schoolhouse gets delivered.

Beautiful and dangerous as hell.

“Goddamn it, what are you doin’ here, Gilbert?”

Your voice is steady and you’re deeply grateful for the water’s opaqueness. You’re also deeply aware of how vulnerable you are, naked and trapped in the water while he’s standing there in all his black and gold glory.

He watches you with his brilliant eye, red as sundown. A black leather eyepatch covers the mystery of his left eye. All kinds of rumors live around that eyepatch: the outcome of a deadly knife fight, a childhood accident, a science experiment gone wrong in his country of birth. Part of you wonders if it isn't just a ruse, a scare tactic to intimidate his enemies. Maybe there's nothing at all under that eyepatch but a second, perfectly healthy crimson eye.

His smile never falters as he shrugs, the motion far too performative for your liking.

“The same thing you are, I imagine. Looking for a place to recover from an arduous afternoon.” He catches your gaze and holds it. His eye gleams. The tiger has you in his sights. “You see, three of my men were accosted today. And then brought to jail.” He shakes his head. “Freeing them was……strenuous.”

Anger snakes its way around your spine. “God DAMN IT!” You slap the surface of the pool in frustration, water splashing up harmlessly. When you finally meet his gaze, his smile is still in place and absolutely infuriating. “Did anyone get hurt?”

He raises a hand to his heart, pretending to look wounded. “What kind of man do you take me for, Deputy?”

Your voice quakes with fury, glows with an anger hot as a blacksmith's forge. “A varmint. A dirty, no-good, black-hearted-”

“I see.” Something crosses his face, a fleeting moment where his smile falters and it surprises you enough to quell some of your outrage. Have you made a dent in that armor of his?

“Let’s talk. I believe if I explain some of the situation, we may be able to come to an agreement. Save us both the burden of our rivalry.”

You raise your hand to your forehead, squinting at him. Even the sun seems to be in love, lovingly outlining his body in gleaming gold. But…..if he wants to negotiate, it needs to be on a level playing field and not one where you are vulnerable in the water and he’s fully dressed and armed.

“Fine.” You jerk your head towards the hot spring next to yours. “Get in and we’ll talk.”

You’ve surprised him. He glances from you to the pool and the expression on his face sends a thrill of satisfaction through you. It’s not often Gilbert von Obsidian is thrown for a loop like this. It takes him a moment before he comes to a decision.

“As you wish.”

He reaches up, removing his hat and places it carefully on the smooth, flat rock next to yours. His hair is dark, like the sky at early night and looks shockingly soft. Next he removes his black leather gloves, slowly, finger by finger. Have you ever seen him ungloved before? Somehow it feels almost indecent, the sight of his strong hands and bare fingers. Next comes his holster and gun which you note he places as far away from the spring as yours are. He’s playing fair. He bends down, moving his boots and socks and again, the sight of his bare feet shakes something loose inside of you, some part of you that you wish would stop reeling and be still again. Those naked fingers unbutton his black and gold shirt, revealing skin as pale as cream and when he removes it, your breath hitches. He’s long and lean, the lines of muscle cutting through him as if made by an artist’s brush stroke. You don’t realize you’re staring until he grins slowly.

“Like what you see?”

God damn it. This man is the enemy.

With an agitated exhale you turn in the water, facing away from him. What you don’t realize is that now he can look without restraint, his gaze running freely over the slope of your shoulders, the curve of your neck. Water beads and slides down your skin and some primitive part of him wants to catch them with his tongue, sink his teeth into the delectable place where neck and shoulder meet.

With a start, he realizes where his thoughts are going and why he very quickly better reign them in. He strips off the rest of his clothing and lowers himself into the neighboring pool of warm water, sending the same prayer of gratitude for its dark opaqueness as you did earlier.

“You may turn around, Deputy.”

You turn around slowly, one hand still close enough to cover your eyes. But he is in the water up to his chest, resting his forearms on the rocky shelf between your two pools.

Oh for fucks sake.

He looks so…..

So…….

Your heart is racing and the heat that rushes through you has nothing to do with the springs.

My God. He looks so…..

You build a dam to stop those thoughts from forming. A dam of anger, outrage, cold hard logic. This man is dangerous. He is your enemy.

“Well then spit it out, Gil. What did you wanna tell me?” Best to get this done as quickly as possible.

He leans forward, resting his chin on his forearms in a move that is endearingly child-like. He’s left his eyepatch on but his one eye is focused on you intently.

“Did you ever stop and notice who my people have been…..relieving of their goods?”

You arch a brow. “Innocent victims.”

He frowns slightly and you can see he is disappointed in your flippant answer. Even more surprising is how much that bothers you. You clear your throat and try again.

“Your gang stole from a merchant family from Jade County, a visiting Tanzanite noble and the mayor of Rhodolite, all within the last three months.”

He nods slowly. “Yes. And what do they all have in common?”

You scoff. “They’re all rich.”

He makes a gesture with his hand for you to continue.

“They’re…..very rich.”

“Go on.”

While considering you absently reach up to adjust the pins in your hair. His gaze darts to the curve of your arm, the water running in enviable rivulets down it, the way your shoulder hikes up and exposes the elegant line of your collarbone and a few tantalizing inches of skin below that. He licks his lips. The tiger lowers itself inthe tall grass, haunches tensed.

“So wealthy….,” you murmur, “that they can afford the loss.” Something clicks into place as you look him in the eye. Obsidian is a poor county, home to a lot of desert and rocky hills. Hot days and freezing nights. The people who live there have a reputation for being a hard folk. You hear someone from Obsidian is around, you tend to give them a wide berth. It’s a tough place to live, often populated by people who have nowhere else to go. It’s a wonder they manage at all, if it weren’t for……

He sees you have connected dots and realized that what he has been doing isn’t for him, but for the poor people of his county. The ones who took in an abandoned foreigner after his parents died and made him one of their own.

“You’re using the stolen goods to help the people,” you say out loud, searching his face for the confirmation you know will come.

“Good girl.”

Those words, almost a purr, nearly send you to the bottom of the springs but you manage to grip the rocky ledge between you and remain upright. You mirror his body language, resting your forearms on the same ledge. There are mere centimeters between his arms and yours. Your faces are closer than they have ever been but you need this, you need to look him in the eye and see if he is sincere. Has he really been playing Robin Hood this whole time? And if yes, does that make his actions any more excusable?

He sees the questions in your eyes, the way you are scrutinizing him. He’s told you the truth but he can see you need something more. A gesture of trust. It comes to him after a second. He reaches up and slowly removes his eyepatch, resting it on the ledge you’re both leaning on.

Your lips part but no sound comes out. What you see under the eyepatch isn’t scarred skin or a milky eye or even another crimson one. What you see under the eyepatch is an eye that echoes the sky in summer, the bluebonnets of the prairie, the bright feathers of the bluejay.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until it starts to ache and you’re forced to inhale.

“Why….why do you hide it?” You tilt your head, slowly adjusting to the sight of his mismatched eyes, both arresting, both magnetic.

“A lot of locals feel if you look like me….it’s a sign of being cursed. And minds steeped in superstition walk more easily down paths of violence.”

You nod slowly. It wasn’t too big a stretch of the imagination to see someone who looks different being blamed for a drought. Or a wave of illness. You’ve heard stories of people run out of towns for it. Sometimes even worse.

You hold his gaze, letting this new idea of Gilbert von Obsidian settle over you. It coats your previous conception of him as a ne'er-do-well criminal, remolds him into something….if not exactly noble, something certainly more…understandable.

You take a moment before speaking.

“Alright. I’ll make a deal with you. When you…..liberate….the very wealthy of their goods and it happens to be around the border between Rhodolite and Obsidian, I’ll turn a blind eye. But if you attack anyone, wealthy or not, clearly within the boundaries of Rhodolite County, you’ll be pursued.”

He considers this. There is a major stagecoach hub in Rosewater, the Rhodolite town right on the border to Obsidian. It also happens to be a busy train station where the wealthy often switch to stagecoach when traveling to the capital city. What you are offering him is, in fact, quite a gift.

He smiles slowly, truthfully, devastatingly beautifully and you stifle the urge to gasp, stung by twin emotions of dismay and excitement.

“I’ll take that deal,” he says. You clear your throat, lifting a hand. A handshake to seal the deal and then you would have the entire ride back to the sheriff’s office to figure out how to explain this all to Chevalier.

Gilbert looks at your hand, then looks you in the eye and his smile sharpens. “Oh there are better ways to finalize a deal.” His gaze drops to your lips. “Let’s seal it with a kiss.”

What the hell did he just say?

“I……that’s…..what…..”

He tilts his head and it is so roguishly charming you could scream.

“Why not try it? Hmm? Or am I really so repulsive?”

Oh no, no you’re not and that is the problem, you think as you stare back into those eyes, those beautiful crimson and azure depths that seem to actually twinkle in the sunlight as they regard you.

But you can’t show weakness, right? It would reflect poorly on the sheriff’s department. At least that's what you're telling yourself.

“Fine,” you mutter, ignoring the wild fluttering of your pulse. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Now he laughs and good God almighty it is nothing like the harsh, sharp-edged laughter you’ve heard from him before. This is soft, almost breathy, dreamy with anticipation as he leans forward, forearms pressed against the slick rocky ledge and presses his lips to yours.

Gilbert von Obsidian tastes like the coolest mountain spring, right before winter hits. Cool and clean, crisp and exhilarating. Never would you have imagined his lips would mold so perfectly to yours, that they would be so soft, so sweet. He's the first drop of cold wine, the first splinter of chocolate, the first spoonful of iced cream.

The water sloshes as he reaches for you, leaning further across the rocky shelf that separates your bodies. His hand slides over your bare shoulder, up the curve of your neck and lingers there as his mouth learns everything there is to know about yours: shape, taste, texture.

And then, with his hand on your neck, your fingers gripping the rock for dear life, you part your lips in invitation.

He accepts without hesitation and my God did that sound come from your throat?

Your low, soft whimper sparks something in him and your whine is answered with a growl. The tiger is ready, springing from its hiding place, scaling the rocky shelf and plunging into the water beside you.

You welcome him with arms as wide as the western sky.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @tele86 @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @aria-chikage @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @joiedecombat @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #western au #different universe same love ccc #1k first kiss celebration #ikemen fanfic #ikemen fanfiction #otome fanfiction #violettwrites

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sagesariadnd · 3 months ago

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Revisiting Doric's Chase From a Dungeon Mastering Lens

So, we've established by now that Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves is a great movie. Fun, funny, heartfelt, everything genuinely feels like a D&D game from the goofy to the grand. But I wanna talk a little about my pick for the best scene in the movie: the wild shape chase.

A quick recap, if you haven't seen the movie or it's been a while; the party is trying to break into Castle Never in Neverwinter, to try to contact the party leader's daughter, who had been entrusted to the BBEG when he got arrested in a heist gone bad. The BBEG campaigned to become Lord Neverwinter when Lord Neverember mysteriously fell ill (gee, what a coincidence) and rules under the advisement of a bigger BBEG, Sofina, a Red Wizard of Thay. The party is using the goods stored in Castle Never's vault, where nobles from around Faerun are contributing wager money for the controversial High Sun Games, as the payment for helping in this endeavor, but they need to know how to get into the vault. So they hire the druid Doric to spy on them and gather intel on the vault. Sofina senses her presence, and the result is the chase we'll be talking about today.

youtube

Now, I could go on forever about how much I love this scene. The tension, the quick thinking of all her different forms, the hilarity of a whole platoon of guards desperately failing to dogpile on a single rat, the music that isn't on the soundtrack cd for some reason (I'm not bitter!), the 'one shot' cinematography, the payoff on Holga's running gag of suggesting she become a deer...but there is a non-wildshaped elephant in the room.

I don't particularly like rules-lawyering, especially for a movie. Especially considering how Doric was in hot water with D&D Nerds (tm) from the moment the trailer was released, because she was white (forgetting that tieflings, by the book, CAN in fact have normal human skin tones), and because she can wildshape into an owlbear, which is a monstrosity, not a beast. (Come on guys, let her have her fun, there's plenty of ways a DM can make that happen.)

But regardless, there is a continuity error, if not a game error. According to Doric's official stat sheet, she can only wild shape five times a day. She wild shapes seven times in this scene - fly, rat, rat again, hawk, cat, axe beak, deer. And that's assuming this was on a different day than their first meeting with Doric, when she had already shaped into a horse and the aforementioned owlbear.

But stow your blades, friends. This isn't a rant about how they got a rule wrong in the D&D movie. In fact, I offer a far more charitable take on this error, by offering a meta perspective. I posit that this error is the Hand of the DM.

It could be as simple as being in the moment. Think about your past battles and encounters in your games; how many times have you forgotten basic things under pressure? Don't lie. My DM and I have both gotten so caught up in a fight scene that we both forget that I already used my bonus action when I try to Flurry of Blows. Hell, I think all of us have been guilty of forgetting entire skills on our sheet that could have been useful at that exact moment. The chase is pretty intense, and I imagine playing it in an actual D&D game would be even moreso; you don't have the privilege of hindsight or time to think. You have to just GO, and it could be very easy to belief that Doric's player and the DM just completely lost track of the number of wild shapes she used. Probably didn't even think of it as they're both biting their nails to see if Doric makes it out. Just imagine the delight and release of tension at the table as Sofina is hot on Doric's heels and the player, in a moment of panic, blurts out "I turn into a deer!!!" Holga's player must have been losing her shit. Even if she wasn't already over budget, if I was the DM in that moment I'd let the extra wild shape slide JUST for that moment of bringing the running gag full circle.

And then, as I was watching the movie last night, an even deeper meta headcanon occurred to me.

I don't mean what I'm about to say as a putdown of Sophia Lillis; I think she did great and she definitely resonated with people as a favorite character in the movie. But Doric as a character is a little strange. She's a bit stiff and seems nervous, her lines have a slightly uncanny tinge, she generally seems kind of awkward...

Call me crazy, but doesn't that sound like a new D&D player to you?

I don't know if this was a deliberate choice on Lillis or the director's part, but Doric's awkwardness feels like a great representation of what it's like first getting into the hobby. Even if you've been interested in roleplaying before, it can feel weird when you first start out, getting used to talking out loud as your character, on top of the ongoing D&D struggles of getting to know your character as it is, and of course figuring out and memorizing all of your character's abilities. As a new player, I can imagine Doric's player latching onto "I can turn into animals" and considering that in every problem, because not only is it cool and useful, it's a simple concept to remember.

The spy mission was Doric's big moment. Her first non-combat scenario at the table. On top of that, it's a solo mission, and one that the entire plan relies on. This is Doric's player's time to really cut her teeth on D&D. Not only is the pressure on her to succeed, but the pressure is on the DM to give her a good experience to boost her confidence and have her wanting to keep playing.

So, the DM encourages her. He praises her quick thinking when she tries to sneak away in the armor, even when the guard passes his insight check. He reminds her as she's about to hit the ground that she can fly. He puts obstacles in her way as she flies off, watching her excitement and anxiety rise as every bow shot misses her. She gets tangled in the flag and could have tanked the fall damage because she'd just revert back to herself, but she wildshapes into a cat. She's getting into the groove!

And that leaves her spent on wild shape slots, slipping out the door thinking that if she stays hidden, she'll be safe to escape. But it's not over. She still needs to make it to the gate, and there's Sofina - she followed her out. Doric's player asks if there are animals around - the axe beak flock. The DM could have checked if she could still wild shape, but Doric's player is coming out of her shell. He could make her find another way out, but she's so deeply on a roll that stopping it now could not only get Doric killed, but possibly snuff out that light that's hit the player's eyes at every triumph. So, the DM calls for Rule of Cool - just one wave of the wild shape count, because hiding among the axe beaks is a cool idea, even if Sofina can ultimately see through it. The one axe beak lifts its head at exactly the wrong moment to take the hit meant for Doric - warning shot; the DM wouldn't just kill her like that. She just needs to book it to the gate - if she can make it that far, then the DM will call it a win.

And then there's the last wild shape - a deer. It would give her the speed she needs to outpace Sofina's horse. And Holga had clearly planted the idea in her head. It's too perfect to not use. And probably worth a point of inspiration, at that! The DM has to let it happen now. And besides, she's so close. A few more nail-biting rounds of chase, and Deer-ic power slides under the portcullis and gallops away. Cheering, screaming, claps on the shoulders. Doric's player collapses into her chair, a frazzled mess but the biggest smile on her face. She just had pure, concentrated D&D and now she's hooked. And after the game they can have a talk about how this was an exception for the sake of a good story and rewarding good roleplay.

Of course, nobody can know for sure how the game really happened, or how the writers imagined the D&D game to go. But Honor Among Thieves has such a special balance on the line of the in-universe story and the real world that I think it's good to look at these kinds of gaffs. No DM is perfect, no player is perfect, not everything goes according to plan or in perfect adherence to the rules. But I've said it before and I'll say it again; sometimes that just makes a better story. It's always important to be clear with your players that you won't always have kid gloves with them, but it's also important to make your players feel appreciated and rewarded for their choices, which is ESPECIALLY vital with new players. Their experience in moments like this could make or break the hobby for them; make the experience a good one.

#dnd #d&d #honor among thieves #doric the druid #dndhat #dming #rules lawyers? more like fun lawyers #lessons from the dnd movie #shooting the monk: high octane edition #btw ever notice how nobody complains about Speak With Animals working on owlbears in Baldur's Gate 3?#I can think of a few days the owlbear thing could be explained #maybe owlbears are a beast in the DM's world #maybe it's brown bear stats but cosmetically it's flavored as an owlbear #new player could also be a reason: maybe she saw owlbears in the book and said “hey that's cool I wanna be that!”#it's okay to find workarounds for that stuff because it's cool #your table is your own

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becoming--nobody · 9 months ago

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2.19.2024

I fear I've been contributing to a specific problem.

Toxic spirituality.

Mankind poisoned the word religion and is quickly personalizing other words intended for sacred use.

Whenever Eternal things gain a solid foothold in this dimension of Life, the power of wonder attracts even the most immature and selfish among us. This is not an insult or placing humans in categories of better or less than one another. We all must find mature sincerity from a previous state of selfishness and fear. This leaves us no room to judge others, even if their immaturity takes different forms than our own.

Words. We give too much emphasis to them in regards to this single topic; the nature of existence and our place in Creation. Words are incapable of confining Creation with any definition. We understand in part, get excited and begin telling others of our revelations and what it means, how it applies to living, universally. This dynamic is repeated over and over until there is another mess of false understanding built from pieces that aren't designed to fit together. We apply logic to the living pulse of something we perceieve as much smaller than It is.

There is no singluar "Source", no singular entity carrying the label "God". There is only nothing, and everything, and all of Creation contains both. We can dwell in this with humble awareness and live with wonder, but we can not individually sit in a seat of power to direct any of it. There is no "Being" to seek, cozy up to and befriend. There is only the raw power of awe that is Creation within, running through, and surrounding each of us.

It is ok to feel lost. It is ok to need the help of another person, the company of a pet, or the possession of things. It is ok to feel depression or on the verge of insanity. We have the answers of all Creation in and around us and the power to find and apply whatever is needed in any given moment. We are human right now too, and growing into a more mature relationship with Creation together as well as individually.

Some people will discover a part of Eternity and claim titles of teacher, healer, guide, life coach, and on and on. The beauty of Creation is that it will bring the people, experiences, and circumstances you genuinely need right into your life exactly when it will benefit you most.

If you find yourself alone, seemingly stagnating, then be patient. This is special too. Creation is whispering that you are enough. Find pleasure in breathing, the warmth of the Sun touching you on a cool day, offering patience to those who's weariness has them behaving poorly. Extend that patience to your self too, its ok to be weary and rude sometimes. Life can be complicated.

We never needed fast cars, big houses, or movie adventure lives. The adventure is that we are even a living thing.

Pay attention, of course, but it's ok to take a breath or 10, and just reflect in the midst of our often chaotic appearing perceptions.

For today, if you're feeling less than or not quite enough, know that I am cheering for you. I feel those things deeply at times as well. It is why I search, why I'm grateful when I discover these are harmless lies and that each of us are still growing into our awareness of that magnificence we have been all along.

I love you,

Stan

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mariacallous · 2 months ago

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Hello there. Today I would like to talk about Charlotte Owen. If you’ve heard of Charlotte Owen, it’s probably because you’ve read someone – unquestionably one of the “good guys” of the discourse – saying some creepy, innuendo-laden thing about the “riddle”, “mystery” or “enigma” of her relationship with Boris Johnson. Before we go on, a word on vocab: all those words are journalese for “I can’t stand up this cobblers but I just want to publish it anyway”.

If you haven’t heard of Charlotte Owen, then (a) you may be the last pure human, and (b) you will need a primer. So here goes: she worked for Johnson’s No 10 operation, and was unexpectedly given a peerage in his resignation honours list. Alongside her House of Lords work, she has recently taken a position in a business Johnson has got with a uranium entrepreneur. Any more background? I should also say I have never met Owen, who is now 31, or had the remotest dealings with her. However, I have watched the absolute deluge of sexism disguised as gossip that has beset her since Johnson chucked her the poisoned chalice. Though entirely fact free, most of it has been frothingly circulated by the sort of person who imagines themselves to be on the side of the angels. So allow me to offer a counterpoint: they’re not.

Listen, I’m sure it’s not great to give a peerage to a 29-year-old. But let’s get real: even if she were totally useless, Owen could still only be about the 200th worst person in the House of Lords. She wouldn’t even make the same postcode as the cut of the true monsters, about whom we don’t get any articles because they’re not youngish and blond. Do imagine if all the good guys casting twice-weekly aspersions at Owen were chucking even half those at fellow Johnson peer Evgeny Lebedev – a serious piece of work, who has somehow garnered fewer bad headlines this past year than Charlotte has this past fortnight. Records and colleague accounts suggest Owen is a diligent peer, turning up very frequently and offering contributions some would estimate put her in the top 10% of speakers. (Lebedev has never even bothered voting and has asked only four written questions in four years.)

As for being unqualified for her latest job – countless 31-year-olds in this country have jobs that I’m sure their elders and betters think they’re not good enough for, and they were often hired for them by people they met through previous jobs. You’re going to need more than that. Yet not one person has produced a single nano-particle of evidence for their theories, while indications that they’re nonsense pile up. Consider the pictures of Owen at Carrie Johnson’s soirees. Seriously, Carrie’s the final boss of this game. She saw off master strategist Dominic Cummings (Carl von Clownewitz). Pretty sure she’d make light work of Charlotte if there were anything to worry about.

Some people will say it was ever thus. Funnily enough, I think I was Owen’s age when I started reading stories about my own affair with the former editor of this newspaper. Not true stories, as it goes, and I’m just trying to think back to it all. Private Eye ran some of them, so I contacted the magazine to tell it they were completely untrue and asked it to correct. Alas, corrections were not a Private Eye thing, I was told – but I was offered the option of writing a letter to its letters page, under my name, to counter the story. I remember sitting and wondering what such a bizarre and inherently unedifying missive would even look like. I pictured a letter reading “Dear Sir, Sorry to trouble you but this is just to say I’m not actually having an affair with my boss. Yours ever so gratefully, Marina Hyde.”

I concluded that would be rather adding insult to injury, so declined to send it, and instead had to come up with a sort of renegade campaign of ways to get the record corrected, which now seem excruciatingly ridiculous in retrospect. I can’t remember all the stupid stuff I did, but I do remember, for example, agreeing to a hideously dreary media panel, purely because the then editor of Popbitch was also doing it, then sitting through it and waiting for an opportunity to confront her in public about what I think I called “my non affair”. This was no one’s finest hour, but I couldn’t think of a better way. In the end, you realise you just have to ignore people and work hard, and maybe that work will displace people’s current view of you in, like, a couple of decades?

Now I am a much older lady, I wouldn’t say I can say exactly what I like – but I can certainly say a lot more of what I like. And I say all this now not because I want to spare Charlotte Owen the ball-ache of having to do some dire panel on climate lies at the next Cop conference, purely to tee herself up for introducing a leaden non-sequitur beginning with the words, “Hey – you know what else is a lie … ?” No, I am doing this because I honestly can’t believe that almost 20 years later, fact-free faux journalism like this has got worse.

Much of it is down to social media being a place where people very much like to look as though they’re insiders (again: they’re not). The other corrosive practice, popular on social media but also with some very online journalists, is that thing of putting two pictures or stories together and saying with some kind of flourish, “You join the dots!” To which the only acceptable response is: no. Would YOU mind joining the dots? You are, after all, supposed to be the professional here. The fact that you can’t confirms you’re not “doing journalism” – you’re doing sexism, you’re doing conspiracism and you’re doing indolence. Still: lovely clicks.

Allow me to end by offering a competition prize. The next person to publish any fact-free innuendo about Charlotte Owen shall be crowned the biggest trouser-rubbing weirdo in Fleet Street – and that’s a tough field. Guys, that actually means something! If anyone has any evidence of the thing at which they have hinted so remorselessly, then let them produce it. Otherwise, maybe they have had their fun, and it’s finally time to shut up and leave her alone. Instead: please tell us more about the uranium entrepreneur. You see, this is the other thing about getting older: you start wanting to know more about the uranium entrepreneurs. But we always look the wrong way in this country – so don’t hold your breath.

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