#well. its impossible to do that consistently

[majimaisms]

Majima Goro – Disco Elysium Skillsheet

i've been inspired by @violentlydefending (thank you!) to write up a disco elysium style skillsheet for majima. its VERY long and includes a thought cabinet section as well, so be warned. made a disco style portrait for him too

INTELLECT

DECOUPLING: Betray your values. Act against your nature.

COOL FOR: HYPOCRITES, FAMILY MEN, UNDERCOVER AGENTS

Decoupling is your compartmentalization skill. You have separated your identity, your values and your behavior into neat little boxes that don’t touch each other. With Decoupling, you can justify and stick to any plan, say things you don’t mean, and not worry about what any of it says about you. Compromise is the way of this world – if you can’t hack it, you won’t make it. This includes suppressing your own self-interest; Decoupling allows you to negate the Morale damage from not getting what you want, or need.

Low levels of Decoupling will turn you into an indecisive, ineffective idealist. Preoccupied with your need for authenticity, you will be afraid to compromise your values *at all*. You will be stubborn in your methods, and your identity will become a rock you trip on and fall. You will prioritize being consistent above all else, at the cost of success. However, high Decoupling will turn you into a fraud with a devil-may-care attitude. You will be fully aware you’re doing the wrong thing, but it won’t bother you. You will become unable to recognize your own needs. People will struggle to make sense of your decisions as your behavior becomes more and more inconsistent. If you're not careful, you just might lose sight of your soul entirely, like a stray balloon.

RISK MANAGEMENT: Know exactly how and where everything can go wrong. Then prevent it – but only if it’s worth the cost.

COOL FOR: OPPORTUNISTS, GAMBLERS, WORRIERS

Plan, predict, prevent. Risk Management allows you to understand the economy of possibilities. You don’t need to run the numbers; you have a talent for appraising value in this market. With Risk Management, you can easily identify and mitigate risks and, failing that, deal with the fallout using cost-effective methods. It also makes you immune to sunk-cost fallacies… for the most part. 

Low levels of Risk Management will have you struggling to imagine different possibilities, future-blind. Having no faith in your ability to deal with risks, you will risk becoming paranoid. High levels, on the other hand, will give you a dangerous sense of infallibility. You will become overconfident in your assessments and ironfisted in your methods to prevent undesirable outcomes. In other words – a control freak.

BUSINESSMAN: Make the line go up. Make bank.

COOL FOR: BREADWINNERS, PENNY PINCHERS, INDENTURED SERVANTS

An undeniably useful skill, Businessman makes you really, really good at turning a profit. You understand what sells and how to sell it, who will buy it, and at what price. You can bring a business about to go bankrupt back from the brink, you know how to make the right investments, and you don’t hesitate to cut your losses. All you have to do is make a little bit of effort.

At low levels, poverty will be an ever-present obstacle, and life will be nigh impossible. The world and its many doors will remain closed to you; opportunities will dwindle, people will desert you. Your career as a yakuza will be short-lived, if it ever starts at all. But when you have high levels of Businessman, money will become an end in itself. Absurdity whirlpools will dominate your life. You will be loaded, but it will come at the cost of sentimentality. You will be surrounded by people who want to be close to you, only to take advantage of you. But hey, I’m sure you could compensate for all that somehow. Where there’s money, there’s a way… or however that saying goes. 

LIQUID ASSETS *: Keep your options open. Stay flexible. 

COOL FOR: MONEY LAUNDERERS, IMPULSIVE SPENDERS, PEOPLE WITH COMMITMENT ISSUES 

Liquid Assets lets you reassign your skill points at crucial moments, effectively enabling you to switch between different builds. Your biggest investment is in yourself, and you are determined to polish yourself into maximum efficiency. But what that efficiency looks like depends on the situation, so you’ve learned to min/max your own abilities. It’s almost like turning off a quarter of your brain only for another to light up. You’ve mastered fluidity. You don’t have *complete* control over your skills, but when the situation calls for it, Liquid Assets will give the option to switch things up a little.

At high levels, you will be unable to hold onto any currency you can spend. Cash will burn a hole in your pocket, and the maximum amount of unused skill points you can hoard will reduce dramatically. You will become prone to splurging, urged on by a compulsive and persistent need to empty your pockets *now*. At low levels, however, you will cling to anything you have left in an attempt to hold onto them. You will be afraid to take financial risks or invest in anything, or anyone. You will simply have too much to lose. This will make you conservative with your spending, but it won’t end there. Don’t expect to be able to keep up with a changing world when you are too preoccupied with trying to preserve the things you already have. 

PSYCHE

SHEDDING: Change your skin. Cycle through masks. 

COOL FOR: FUGITIVES, PROFESSIONAL ESCORTS, METHOD ACTORS

Shedding functions as a way to craft and adopt different identities. Your accent, looks, mannerisms, inflection, clothes, demeanor – these things are nothing more than means to an end for you, and can be modified to adapt to any situation. Shedding is the skill that allows you to change tactics as you navigate society, seamlessly switching between characters like putting on different hats. From patriarch to pirate captain, cabaret manager to hostess, idol to construction company owner, role after role becomes you. 

With a low Shedding skill, you will be inflexible and awkward. Change will scare you. You will be unable to commit to any role, any bit, and fail to deliver a convincing performance even when you try. Your ability to see things from different perspectives will suffer, and you will have a harder time understanding others. This will lead to difficulties in dealing with friend and foe alike.  At high levels you will be a master shapeshifter, but a concrete identity will elude you. You will run the risk of getting trapped under the weight of all that dead skin. Be careful that you slough off your old skin all the way, or what was originally underneath may never see the light of day again. You may need the help of another person, preferably someone who really knows you… if that's even possible.

BLACK RIVER: Obscure your intentions. Stay in motion. 

COOL FOR: CULT LEADERS, HUMAN ENIGMAS, THE ROOTLESS

Black River is a pathfinding skill for navigating dreams and desires. It makes you a force of nature through sheer willpower. You can and *will* do anything it takes to reach your goals. You just don’t know how to quit. This gives you a magnetic quality that draws people in, and inspires obsession and devotion in equal parts. People can’t help but get caught up in you, ready to follow you wherever you lead. But you are a river that runs underground; you cannot be seen or heard. Your motivations are opaque to everyone but you. To follow you, people must learn to read signs and symbols – a self-selection mechanism that produces highly dedicated followers. 

At low levels, you will be adrift and aimless. With nothing to work towards, you will stagnate. You will try and hold onto anything that has momentum in hopes it might get you moving, no matter how pointless or out of reach it may seem. Life, for the most part, will just pass you by. At high levels, that drive to achieve your goals will consume your every waking moment, and failure will bring out the worst in you. You will be incredibly charismatic, but seeing nothing except the horizon, you will struggle to stay grounded. Unmoored and unable to come down, you will suffer from motion sickness and have no choice but to keep moving unless you find something, *someone* to tie yourself down to. However, because your intentions remain indecipherable to everyone, you will find yourself lacking in anchors. 

MOXIE: Give yourself pep talks. Get to the top. 

COOL FOR: CHEERLEADERS, GO-GETTERS, INCURABLE OPTIMISTS

You’ve got Moxie, baby. Nerve, guts, determination – you know you’ve got what it takes to make it in this world. You can talk yourself into taking on any challenge, and push past any failure to try again, and again, and again. And people love you for it. Your vigor and courage are contagious. You lift people up and inspire them. Moxie gives you the ability to heal Morale for yourself and others, and acts as your Morale pool. 

Without Moxie, you will struggle to keep going after life has knocked you down. You will be insecure in your ability to succeed, afraid to take risks and embarrass yourself. Too much Moxie has the opposite effect. You will be desperate to put yourself out there, to prove yourself, and never learn. People will watch you with morbid curiosity, like a trainwreck they can’t look away from. 

TIGHTROPE: Indulge in pure escapism. Don’t look down.

COOL FOR: VESTIGIAL SHAMANS, ILLUSIONISTS, SLEEPWALKERS

Tightrope allows you to go through life as if it were a dreamscape, where anything and everything is possible. You are an expert storyteller, and your primary audience is *you*. Tightrope permits you to lie to yourself, to buy into your own fictions. You can fit any series of events into a narrative that makes it more interesting or convenient for you. All you have to do is keep the fantasy going; keep walking and keep your balance. This skill is especially useful for dealing with highly stressful situations, and can be used to protect against Morale damage. 

At high levels, Tightrope will have you playing hide and seek with reality. You will lose yourself in blissful ignorance and have a great time doing it, but the consequences may be dire. Gravity is an uncompromising teacher; the comedown will be painful. The Morale damage you negate in the short term will come back to bite you in the ass later – expect heavy Morale losses. It will also make you completely opaque to yourself as you go to great lengths to avoid doing *any* self-reflection. However, low Tightrope will make life a total slog. You will be susceptible to depression and substance abuse, seeking stimulation through other means, just trying to make it bearable. Seeing life only as it is and not as it should be, you will be extra vulnerable to Morale damage and struggle to keep your sanity.

DIAMOND HEART: Don’t break. Stay vigilant.

COOL FOR: SUPERHEROES, SURVIVORS, IDEALISTS

Life is an unending series of horrors, and Diamond Heart is your last bastion against the meaninglessness of it all. It enables you to absorb the blows life throws at you, and learn the right lessons from them. It’s what reminds you not to lose sight of what’s important as the world pushes your limits, over and over. It is spiritual endurance. Regardless of how bleak the situation you find yourself in becomes, Diamond Heart shows you the right thing to do, acting as your moral compass. Pressure brings out the best in you; you shine brighter the darker it gets, and set an example for others to look to.

Low levels of Diamond Heart will make you cynical, pessimistic and uncharitable towards the world and its people. You will become depressed and isolated, and constantly look to others for guidance. At high levels, you will appear mad to most people around you. Cynics and skeptics will accuse you of “not understanding how the world works”, of being spoiled, sheltered, or even stupid, but you won’t pay it any mind. This will lead you to take massive risks for the sake of doing good – be careful that you’re equipped to deal with failure, or make sure you’re going to succeed. 

NURTURING: Understand reward and punishment. Help people reach their full potential. 

COOL FOR: SCHOOL TEACHERS, PERSONAL TRAINERS, PATRIARCHS

Nurturing is your skill for teaching, mentoring and training people. You see *possibilities* in everything, and people are no exception. You have a guiding instinct that draws you to roles where you have direct influence over a person’s development, and an inclination to play mentor to anyone you meet. Whether you choose to hammer them into shape or take a softer approach, Nurturing is the skill you use to forge people into the best they can be. 

At high levels, Nurturing will make you a master of operant conditioning. You will be able to make legendary fighters out of street brawlers, obedient subordinates out of the most rebellious punks, and #1 hostesses out of awkward, flat-chested wallflowers. But you will risk becoming overly protective and coddling, having to constantly fight the urge to go easy on people. However, low Nurturing will turn you into a tyrant of a teacher as you rely entirely on negative reinforcement. You will be violent and uncompromising in your methods, preferring to employ a sink-or-swim strategy, and it will only get your students so far – the ones that make it through their training, anyway.

PHYSIQUE 

DEMONFIRE: Tap into raw physical power. Unleash your inner demon. 

COOL FOR: SADISTS, JILTED LOVERS, THE CRIMINALLY INSANE

Demonfire allows you to *force* your will on the world in the only way that is guaranteed to work: violence. It is your go-to skill for *hurting* people – your primary combat skill, in more technical terms. Bats, blades or just your bare fists: choose your instrument of pain and go all out. Bash skulls in, send teeth flying, and stab-stab-stab your opponents until they fall. There’s something within you that just can’t get enough, and she demands to be let loose. 

At high levels, Demonfire will make you practically unbeatable. People will be simultaneously afraid and in awe of your martial prowess. Your legend will precede you. But you will risk being controlled by your own bloodlust, struggling to stay moderate in your violence. You will not only *take* every opportunity to beat people up, you will start to create *new* ones. At low levels, however, you will be too weak to even swing your fist. Even the most pathetic punks will beat your ass in a fight. You will be unable to fight for the things you believe in, or protect the people you care about. You will be powerless.

PLAYMATE:  Talk with your fists. Get to know people another way. 

COOL FOR: BROTHERS, PACK ANIMALS, FERAL CHILDREN 

A necessary skill for any yakuza, Playmate is used to gain information about someone through fighting them. It can be thought of as a social skill, utilized the same way any other language would be: self expression, discussion, building connections. With Playmate, a fight to the death can be a bonding activity or an efficient way to learn things about someone, to help you understand what drives them. 

High levels of Playmate will make you overly antagonistic. You will rely solely on fighting to build and maintain relations, and you will seem needlessly hostile to everyone around you. Emotional closeness will not be a defining feature of your relationships. At low levels, you will be unable to find any joy in fighting your loved ones. You will be forced to rely almost entirely on verbal communication to understand each other; something that can be time consuming, and cause for many dead ends as you attempt to resolve your interpersonal problems using words.

RAZOR’S EDGE: Refuse to take orders. Spit in the face of danger. 

COOL FOR: MASOCHISTS, ADRENALINE JUNKIES, HORROR FANS

Something has gone badly wrong with you. The wires in your poor, traumatized 

nervous system are all jumbled up. You can no longer tell the difference between fear and excitement – if you ever could in the first place. Razor’s Edge allows you to suppress your natural fear response, and makes you effectively immune to intimidation. You simply do not think to negotiate with pain. You are not scared off by threats of bodily harm. In fact, you get a kick out of it. This makes you both difficult to control and unpredictable, willing to take risks most wouldn’t. At the same time, it lets you stay sharp, on the edge, where you need to be. 

Without Razor’s Edge, you'll be questioning whether or not it’s worth it to push back. Staying quiet and letting people have their way with you will seem easier. But if you take it, they'll give it. At high levels, Razor’s Edge will make you brash and arrogant. Seeking thrills, you will become reckless to the point of seeing your life – and others’ – as something for you to toy with. Don't expect others to take kindly to this, though. Most people care about living to see the next day. 

COMPETITIVE STREAK: Go the extra mile. Push your limits. 

COOL FOR: OLYMPIC ATHLETES, #1 HOSTESSES, WINNERS

There is a constant and deafening voice in your head that tells you to *do more* and *be better*. To beat everyone at their own game. And your longest-standing opponent? Yourself. More specifically, yourself from one minute ago. That guy is old news. You can do better, beat your own record. Competitive Streak is your drive for self improvement. It allows you to identify and create situations you can gain experience from. It effectively offers a way to *grind* for that sweet, sweet XP.

At high levels, power dynamics will rule your life. People will find you intense and off-putting as you turn even the smallest interactions into something that is possible to win or lose, and you will burn yourself out trying to outdo them all. But low Competitive Streak will make you a sore loser. Or worse, a *killjoy*. You don’t want to be a killjoy, do you? *Nobody* likes a killjoy. Not even the people that nobody else likes. Not even *other* killjoys. One way or the other, a healthy dose of competitiveness is required to avoid becoming insufferable. Just make sure you don’t push your limits beyond repair.

LIVING ORGANISM: Be an animal. Trust your instincts. 

COOL FOR: BODYBUILDERS, SOOTHSAYERS, HEALTH FREAKS

Your body is an animal, and Living Organism is your connection to it. Like any animal handler, you know what it needs, how to keep it healthy, and how to make it useful. You can train it, feed it, take care of it, and it will repay you in kind. It has access to wisdom that you don't, and it knows what you need and how to provide it. Listen to it, and you will come out on top. 

At high levels, Living Organism will keep you preoccupied with your health to the point of neurosis. Strict about your diet and excessively worried about *symptoms*, you will be prone to disordered eating and regular full body check-ups will become a staple in your life. Naturally, the time and effort spent on your body will lead to vanity as well. At low levels, you will disregard your body’s needs altogether. The animal will seek revenge on you for the years of neglect, payback for the poor treatment you've subjected it to. Aches and pains are only the beginning of the debilitation. You will be in a constant battle with your body, working against it instead of with it. 

ENDURANCE

MOTORICS

SHOWTIME: Live your life as performance art. Captivate your audience. 

COOL FOR: POP-STAR SENSATIONS, THEATRE KIDS, KARAOKE ENTHUSIASTS

Dance. Move. Feel the rhythm and lose yourself in it. Sing your heart out. Pull crazy stunts for shock value. Do cartwheels and backflips. Confuse and dazzle onlookers. Cause distractions. Command attention. The world is your dance floor – Showtime allows you to utilize this fact to its fullest potential, and have fun doing it. 

High levels of Showtime will make you unable to *stop* performing; even when you have no audience, even when you are completely alone. The show must go on *indefinitely*. Your entire life will be a bit, an inside joke you share only with yourself, and nobody will be laughing. With low levels, though, you won't be able to draw anybody's attention to save your life. Or worse, you will draw the wrong *kind* of crowd. Attention – there’s unwanted kinds.

DISTAL PRECISION: Know exactly where you're striking. Maim, but don't kill. 

COOL FOR: ACROBATS, MARTIAL ARTISTS, THE PASSIVELY AGGRESSIVE

Distal Precision makes you a master of self-restraint in combat. It’s your spatial awareness and motor control skill. It allows you to have precise control of your movements, right down to every minute twitch of your muscles, and gives you a perfect sense of your reach. It enables you to execute complicated maneuvers with proficiency, strike with everything you’ve got and stop just millimeters short of your mark, or gauge the exact distance between you and the edge of the rooftop overlooking a 100m drop. It’s a skill any fighter needs.

At high levels, Distal Precision will make you unable to rely on muscle memory. You will be deliberate in your every movement, too preoccupied with precision to enter a flowstate. It will significantly impede your fun, and your performance will suffer as your movement becomes stilted. Expect particularly catastrophic Red Check failures at low levels, though. With poor control over your movement, you will find it much, much easier to fatally wound someone without meaning to. Human bodies are more fragile than they seem, including your own; low Distal Precision will have you flinging yourself at walls instead of opponents, aiming for the wrong body parts, or leaving yourself open in ways that might prove fatal for *you*. 

PEOPLE WATCHING: Observe human behavior. Understand social culture.

COOL FOR: TALENT SCOUTS, WRITERS, MARKETING AGENTS

People Watching is the skill you use to observe and recognize patterns in human behavior; your ability to make connections between disposition, cultural background and presentation. You know who likes and dislikes what, who gets bullied and who becomes popular, even if you don’t always understand *why*. But that’s not important here – People Watching mainly serves as a way to glean a lot of information about a person from just a glance. It helps you notice details about people that most wouldn’t, and ensures you draw the right conclusions, letting you do things like: single out the richest person in a room, clock closet-cases, or correctly infer someone’s hometown from a brief conversation

At high levels, you will be able to play the social game effortlessly. You will be in-tune with stereotypes most people have never even heard of, knowledgeable about people from all walks of life. But you will find yourself too preoccupied with other people, neglecting to consider how *you* fit into society. You will be a permanent outsider, unable to truly belong in any group. With low People Watching, however, you will be navigating society without speaking its language of style and presentation. You will be oblivious to cues that most pick up on effortlessly. You will live your life on this earth like an alien, indefinitely culture-shocked, an outsider of a different kind.

COMPOSURE

REACTION SPEED

THOUGHT CABINET

MY BROTHER'S MAN 

Problem: You are outside a warehouse as Shibata explains to you that you have no choice but to betray your brother. You refuse to understand. Then choice is taken from you, but only because you allowed it to happen. Your only brother is in prison on death row, and you are not. This was not how it was supposed to go.

Solution: You swore an oath, and the price of betrayal is death. Saejima will never get back the years of his life that he lost. It’s only fair that yours gets cut short. In the meantime, try to make up for it anyway. Loyalty – it's supposed to mean something. 

+4 Black River: Feel the half that is missing +4 Razor’s Edge: Nothing to lose -1 to all skills when separated from your bonded pair To forget this thought, you have to forget all of them

LONG DEAD ANIMAL 

Problem: You've been ready to die since the day you swore your oath. You’ve erased your past, and you’ve got no future. You’re not interested in having one, either. This makes it difficult to give a shit about… well, anything. It’s no way to live. 

Solution: Life is just a consecutive series of days where you are cheating death, and dying early is just part of the deal for yakuza. But with the way you've been living, you may as well already be dead. The sooner you make peace with this, the easier it will be to focus on the work that needs to be done. On the upside, you can incorporate this into your fashion for a *really* cool style. It will act as a reminder.

+1 Composure: Taxidermied +1 Reaction Speed: Moments have consequences +1 Health for each item of clothing you are wearing that's made of leather +1 Shedding if you’re wearing 3 or more items of leather clothing -1 Living Organism: It doesn’t feel like living

LOOKING-GLASS SELF

Problem: You don’t relate to your peers. Not in the way they relate to each other. And they don’t understand you, either. At least not the way you understand yourself. How are you going to bridge the gap? 

Solution: According to some sociologists, individuals develop their concept of self by observing how they are perceived by others, a concept Cooley coined as the “looking-glass self.” You’ve not only mastered this ability, but your self worth has miraculously remained unaffected. Congratulations! You are now a full person. At least in the eyes of others. As far as your need for authenticity is concerned, though, you’ve simply given up on such things. Oh, and be prepared to have a really complicated relationship with mirrors – whether they’re made of glass, or flesh and bone.

+3 Shedding: Mask to survive +3 Decoupling: Lost cause +1 Composure: Live behind your eyelids +1 People Watching: Watch and learn Prerequisite for 24-HOUR CINDERELLA

NEWTONIAN MECHANICS

Problem: You did not have the *happiest* childhood (really, it was very, very far from being happy – we’re talking, like, *light years* away) but it’s part of what made you who you are. You may be damaged goods, but hard times have also taught you some valuable lessons. You’ve learned not to take anything for granted, and that you can’t afford to ignore *reality*. Life is short – and you know how to appreciate it. But above all, your childhood has made you *kind* – you have a relentless drive to protect and defend the weak. But courage alone isn’t enough. There’s more to the story.

Solution: “A body remains at rest, or in motion at a constant speed in a straight line, unless it is acted upon by a force.” This is true of all bodies, including human ones. Force is the language of this reality, and violence is the way of this world. At the end of the day, all power boils down to your capacity to inflict physical harm on another person. Forcing your will upon people is forcing your will upon the world. And you are determined to use your power for good, but you must first *acquire* it. That’s right – you have to get *strong*. Really, really strong. In fact, you have to be the strongest guy around. There’s no way around it, it’s the only way to keep your loved ones safe. You need to be able to generate force, or you will be a null factor in this universe, unable to help anybody when it really counts.

Demonfire learning cap raised by 5 +3 Competitive Streak: Moral imperative +3 Razor’s Edge: The fear has been beaten out of you +3 Endurance: You can take it

HYPER-COMBATIVE LIVING

Problem: The world of yakuza is one where people only respect brute strength and authority. You’ve got your fair share of issues with the latter, but you have to admit, it’s a little *unstylish* to rely entirely on the former. There are cleverer, more sophisticated ways to solve problems. Diplomacy and compromise should not be *entirely* out of the question… right?

Solution: Life is too short not to solve your problems using violence. Besides, who said violence wasn’t stylish? Violence is cool. Red hot, sparks flying *cool*. And you can make it even cooler. By making it your whole *thing*. Diplomacy and compromise are boooring. Problems need solutions, and violence is a one-size-fits-all solution that has not failed you yet. You can forget about romance or tenderness, though.

+3 Demonfire: No holds barred +2 Playmate: Howling forever -3 Businessman: Doing business honest man style is tedious -2 Diamond Heart: Play the antagonist

LORD OF THE NIGHT

Problem: The nightmares are the easy part. The year you spent in that place *did* something to you. Okay, it did *a lot* of things. Honestly, even you're not sure about the extent of the damage. I'm talking about *psychological damage*, boyo. Not just to your mind, not just to your spirit, but to your *pride*. Your dignity has been stripped away, pissed on, and left to rot in that cell. There has to be some way to get it back.

Solution: Good news! There *is* a dignified way to deal with indignity – a way to handle it with grace. And you've found it. Okay, are you ready? It's about *consent*. That’s right. If you volunteer to the daily stripping of your dignity, you can, in fact, retain some of it. Enough of it. Enough to keep your head up – look people in the eye, look at yourself in the mirror. All that good stuff. So why not embrace it? Just stop fighting it. It's not like you have a choice, anyway. 

+6 Composure: The customer is king +6 Businessman: No time to waste -6 Razor’s Edge: Orders are absolute -6 Living Organism: Broken and battered Prerequisite to unlock MAD DOG OF SHIMANO

MAD DOG OF SHIMANO 

Problem: Her small hand between yours as you bow your head in silent prayer: Please, please let her live. If she doesn't, you will have failed her forever. It will be your fault that she's dead, and you will have to live with the knowledge that she died because of the organization you've dedicated your life to. How did it get to this? How will you prevent it from happening again? And most importantly, how are you going to go back to the clan after this? 

Solution: The people who put her life in danger make up the majority of the world's population. Life is cruel and stupid, and nobody around seems to be able to tell the difference between right and wrong. So what’s the point of doing the right thing? Go back to the clan. Climb the ranks. Do whatever it takes. Nobody gives a shit, least of all you. 

Decoupling learning cap raised by 5 +3 Demonfire: Let her loose +3 Decoupling: Don’t think about what Saejima would have to say about it +2 Reaction Speed: Guard dog -1 Razor’s Edge: You still have nightmares about Shimano -1 Diamond Heart: It doesn’t make any difference Internalizing this thought will make you forget LORD OF THE NIGHT

UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION

Problem: You have to kill Dojima Sohei. If you don’t, she will be in danger her whole life. You can’t kill Dojima Sohei. If you do, she will feel indebted to you her whole life. Sera offers you a way out of this conundrum – he has the money and power to do so. But you won’t always be so lucky. A more readily available solution is required. 

Solution: You were put to that impossible choice in 1988 not only because you cared about Makoto, but because she also cared about *you*. This is the trick, the principle that underlies all human connection: it goes both ways. Everyone feels the need to trust and be trusted, to provide and be provided for, to love and be loved. People aren’t selfish; sacrificing yourself for your loved ones won’t make them happy. Everything that hurts you will also hurt *them* – such is the nature of love. However, none of this changes the fact that sacrifices are necessary, and you are more than happy to be the one making them. The only way to circumvent this problem, then, is to do it without anyone noticing. As long as no one *knows* you’re making sacrifices, you can keep doing it without anyone feeling indebted to you. 

+3 Nurturing: Protect the weak +3 Black River: Stealth aid +3 Endurance: Stay alive for their sake

21ST CENTURY SCHIZOID MAN

Problem: Your reflection stares back at you in the cold steel blade of your tanto as a blind girl clings to your legs. Your hair pulled back, cheeks gaunt and gaze distant, you are a ghost. Almost two decades later, Shimano’s dead and you’re the head of your own subsidiary. You’re going to turn in your tanto in a couple months when you disband your family. The echoes of your past trapped in that steel will be locked away in the treasury at Tojo HQ, and you will lose the sharpest mirror you’ve ever had. What has it all been for? What the hell have you been doing with your life *really*, this whole time? Have you done any lasting good in this world? 

Solution: The world is sick, too sick for anyone to save it, and it’s difficult to love a dying thing. All the rape and murder and hunger in the world will not go away because you want it to, and there’s nothing you can do about it. But forget saving it, you’ve been actively contributing to its worsening condition since the day you swore your oath. Becoming a civilian now won’t change that. This shit is in your blood, there’s no other life for you. The world is what it is, and you have to adapt to survive. There is no point in arguing with facts. Trying to save *everyone* is a lost cause, and you have to pick your battles. It’s simply the *smart* thing to do. 

+2 to all INT skills +1 Tightrope: Keep your eyes closed +1 Showtime: Have some fun while you can  -2 Diamond Heart: Callous 

YAKUZA FOR A BETTER PLANET

Problem: Shimano’s new favorite subject to harp on seems to be *climate change*. You’re not even sure what that is, but all this talk of greenhouse gases and dioxides is getting to you. Maybe it’s time to get on board with this whole *sustainability* business. You could be the first yakuza to ever become an environmental activist. A *trailblazer*… 

Solution: Wake up! The planet needs you. Glaciers are melting, animals are going extinct, and all those CO₂ emissions are absolutely *destroying* the ozone layer. You may have been ignorant until now, but there is no time to waste. It’s time to take responsibility – and it all starts with *recycling*. Separating your trash is a man’s civic duty! That’s right, this is about *individual responsibility*. Get on it, and while you’re at it, get everybody else on it, too. Plus, it makes for a really good excuse to beat people up.

+1 Reaction Speed: On the lookout for litterers +1 Competitive Streak: Reduce your carbon footprint +1 Tightrope: Pollution stops with you!

A DOZEN WINTERS OF LONELINESS

Problem: It feels like it stretches out into eternity, this emptiness within you. It was not left by anyone or anything in particular, as far as you can tell. And it seems to *intensify* at night. But that’s the extent of your understanding of it. All you have are half-remembered nights in your memory to flip through like a scrapbook when the feeling paralyzes you again. On good days you pass out on the couch watching a nature documentary or some horror flick. On bad days it makes you want to curl up and die. Is there no end to it? 

Solution: No. Learn to live with it. 

+1 Risk Management: No one looking out for you +1 Decoupling: Easier to betray yourself +1 Composure: Bottle it up -1 Diamond Heart: A dozen summers against the world -1 Tightrope: Alcohol helps in ways you can’t help yourself -1 Living Organism: Starving animal

ONCE UPON A TIME 

Problem: You filed the divorce papers yourself immediately after you left the apartment. The first thing you did was take the gloves off. It was stupid of you to try, to think this could ever work out. You will never be a father. The taste of bile in the back of your throat is almost drowned out by the cigarette smoke as you sit with your increasing shame. You fucked up, slim. You fucked up *big time*. 

Solution: Dreams. Memories. The past. You are a chain of ill-defined disappointments. There's a lot you didn't get to do, and a lot you never will. You may have given up on your dreams, but that just gives you more room to take on others’. The story isn’t over yet.

Distal Precision learning cap raised by 3 +2 Distal Precision: You have to be more careful -1 Demonfire: You scare yourself -1 Moxie: You only get one shot at some things -1 Tightrope: Reality check

BUTTERFLY DANCING IN THE NIGHT

Problem: Kiryu won’t fight you. More accurately, Kiryu won’t fight you *unless* you manage to really, really piss him off. This is harder to pull off than you initially thought. If there’s one thing about men, though, it’s that they never fail to get irrationally angry where *women* are concerned. And it’s never for the right reasons. There *has* to be a way to use this against Kiryu. You just have to think outside the box. 

Solution: The most perfect of all solutions has appeared to you in the form of a cabaret girl – and she’s right there in the mirror. Goromi is your ticket to a *guaranteed* fight with Kiryu. There’s not a man on this earth who wouldn’t be furious to have her as his hostess, and this is your opportunity to make them pay. Just try not to question why this particular role comes so naturally to you, or why it feels so good.

+2 Demonfire: Righteous anger  +2 Showtime: Make everybody happy -1 Shedding: Comfortable in your skin

24-HOUR CINDERELLA 

Problem: You wake up, wash your face, take an aspirin for your headache. You look in the mirror and the thing that stares back at you is the same every day. You think this is normal. What isn't normal is the fact that it feels like looking at someone else. How did you lose track of who you are? When did it happen? What does it even *mean* to be a person? Does it even matter?

Solution: You are, at any given time, whatever you happen to be in that exact moment. There are no lasting states of being. Self in motion. Identity is a scam; all we have is the shifting, tangled mess of desires, intentions and dreams. The only thing that matters is what you *do*, and as long as you can do whatever you want, you can *be* whatever you want.

Shedding learning cap raised by 5 +2 Showtime: All that jazz is bullshit +2 Tightrope if you also have ONCE UPON A TIME internalized  +1 Decoupling: It doesn't say anything about who you are +1 Razor’s Edge: Freedom of choice is everything

METAXÚ

Problem: So many have gone from your life. Left, lost, died. A lifetime of mourning would not cut it – you would need several. You could miss them every second of every day and it would not be enough. You are in pieces. How many more will leave you? To say nothing of the lives *you* have left. How many people have a you-shaped hole in their lives? How many more will *you* leave? 

Solution: Every separation is a link. Weil wrote, “Two prisoners whose cells adjoin communicate with each other by knocking on the wall. The wall is the thing which separates them but it is also their means of communication.” So it is with everyone you’ve ever been separated from. Presence in absence. Communication in silence. Love in grief. Connection in separation.

The following skill pairs will level up together (only applies when using skill points to level up, does not apply retroactively): Demonfire & Distal Precision, Risk Management & Razor’s Edge, Decoupling & Diamond Heart, Liquid Assets & Black River -1 Tightrope: Acceptance

VOID JANITOR

Problem: Kashiwagi is dead, and now there is no one left in Kamurocho. In fact, there is *nothing* left in Kamurocho. The Tojo is a dying thing, and everyone you care about is gone. They've left you here to take care of things in their absence. To janitor the emptiness. Sometimes you want to join them. Leave Kamurocho, leave the clan, leave this world, leave it all behind. There is no joy here. There is *nothing*. Why are you still around?

Solution: Your number isn’t up yet, and you’ve got time to kill. You might as well start mopping floors and taking out trash. Make yourself useful, one way or another. Plus, someone still needs to look after Daigo. You’ve done less than a bang-up job in that department so far, to say the least. It’s time to get to work.

+1 Nurturing: Your responsibility now +1 Black River: There’s some use for you yet -3 Showtime: No audience  -2 Tightrope: Reached the end of the rope

THE GREAT MAW

Problem: The abyss. The darkness. The great maw of the void, the one that will swallow you and everyone in the world whole if you let it. I’m talking about *cynicism.* How will you ward against its siren call? Its threat is ever-present, and its song is deafening. With the life you’ve led… *can* you even resist it?

Solution: Yes you can. You resist it one day at a time. By deciding, every single day, that today will not be the day you give into it. You can’t cut corners here. This is too important for that. You have to give it your all, and it *will* take everything you have in you. You will never not need to stop reminding yourself of what's at stake. And it will get exhausting. Hope is vital, and there is precious little of it to be found. Hold onto it.

Diamond Heart learning cap raised by 5 Decoupling Red Check failures can be retried at the cost of all of your Morale but if you fail again, you get a permanent -1 Diamond Heart and your Diamond Heart learning cap is reduced by 1

WASHED-UP YAKUZA

Problem: You woke up on a beach with no memories. You know nothing about your past, except for what you can glean from your appearance and your muscle memory. None of it bodes particularly well for your karmic debt. If you’re being honest, you don’t really *want* to remember any of it. And who’s this Saejima guy everyone keeps talking about?

Solution: Actually, this feels pretty good. It’s kinda like being reborn. And you can really get behind this whole pirate thing. You’re having a ton of fun. Fuck being a yakuza, that shit blows. Saejima can deal.

+10 Diamond Heart: Captain Majima is a man of his word +10 Moxie: Blissful ignorance  +10 Black River: Stars in Noah’s eyes +10 Tightrope: Worry about it later -10 Shedding: Lost your jacket to the sea -10 Decoupling: Reunited with your soul -10 Liquid Assets: Starting from scratch -2 Reaction Speed: Blunt fangs This thought can only be internalized if you have no other thoughts internalized (except HEART OF THE DRAGON)  You cannot internalize any other thoughts while researching WASHED UP YAKUZA

HEART OF THE DRAGON

Problem: This is one of your favorite legends. It's about a guy who just can't give up, and inspires others to keep going. He's had a hard life. Someone needs to make up for this. But it is an unrepayable debt that the world owes him, and you are only one person. Who is going to make this right? How? 

Solution: He is a better man than you ever will be. And maybe, just maybe, if you try, you can be a little more like him. But that is not enough. You have to save him; from the world and from himself, as many times as it takes. Over and over and over. If you don’t, who will? And by doing this one thing right, you might even be able to hope to begin to atone for your own mistakes.

Diamond Heart learning cap raised by 5 Moxie learning cap raised by 5 +1 Black River: Something to do +1 Moxie: If he can do it, so can you +1 Diamond Heart: True north +1 Nurturing: Live up to the legend +1 Playmate: Wolf like me This thought cannot be forgotten

[chilpilled]

trying to map out chilaios size difference like an insane person. charlie kelly pepe silvia but the wall is full of manga panels

[milkweedman]

*googling* how much is it okay to white out because I stood or sit up ? Just a little bit of whiting out ? Like a few times a day ? Just like a couple dozen ?

[bangcakes]

.

[gibbearish]

am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[waepenwifestre]

Let's Talk About Security Culture: Why Keeping Secrets is Cool and Sexy

It's a natural impulse -- if you love crime -- to want to talk about how great it is. And if you hate America, it's only natural to want to share your dreams for its future with the rest of tumblr dot com. It can feel brave and transgressive. And there is a drive to share your soul with the world at the heart of social media. Surely I should be posting the most concrete implications of my politics, right? This is the poster's curse.

Security Culture refers to a set of "best practices" developed over the past several decades, largely (in a US context) coming out of radical environmental groups as they faced intense state repression, infiltration and entrapment. If you're not familiar, there's some fascinating crimethinc write ups to give you a window into that world:

Much of it boils down to: don't talk about crimes, past or forthcoming with people who don't need to know about them, and be mindful of the possibility of surveillance and infiltration. And, we can support each other as a community in minimizing risks, with an eye towards enabling bold action rather than getting bogged down in fears and anxieties. The guidelines that make sense for AG-based trouble-makers are different from the guidelines that make sense for posters, but plenty of common principles apply. To speak briefly to our position here as posters:

First, it bears saying that long term anonymity is nearly impossible to maintain. Unless you've never accessed Tumblr without a vpn, and avoided connections with other ppl who can be associated with you/your location, and never shared pictures without scrubbing metadata, and a bunch of other 100% consistent steps, it's trivial for the state to know who you are.

Second, just because something isn't actively being prosecuted now doesn't mean it can't be prosecuted later. The priorities of the state change and a shift in power towards the right or a growth in radical action from the left can suddenly make it a priority to destroy anarchist networks or just find a few ppl to prosecute as examples (who probably weren't that plugged into larger networks before getting arrested). Advocating for specific anti-government crimes or declarations of intent to commit such crimes are likely prosecutable, and even if charges don't stick, they're an easy vector for legal harassment.

Third, it's worth thinking about heat as separate from prosecutability. There are modes of engagement that may not be directly criminalized but signal that you are someone worth watching. Some people choose to be public in ways that make heat unavoidable. But it's worth noting that heat isn't strictly individualized, that it persists over time but also is going to shrink over time.

It's easy on here, ime, to see yourself as a proud member of the crime fandom but not much of a content creator. And it's easy to feel like you've generated an amount of heat where you're locked into that role. But heat you generated 10 years ago is probably pretty well gone. Heat you generated 5 years ago has faded substantially. It's worth thinking about how the world might shift in the coming years and what doors you want to keep open.

The non-individualized nature of heat also means that leaning into the spiciest of anti-state positions will make it a bad idea for people who are acting out those positions end up tied to you. Loudly talking about how "more people should be doing [X/Y/Z]" unfortunately sets you up to remain distant from people who might be doing or thinking about doing such things.

Which brings me back to: keeping secrets is sexy. Not spelling everything out builds intrigue. You can lay out a theoretical position and leave working out the practical implications of that as an exercise for the reader. There's value in opacity. The poster's curse and the drive to confess are extremely convenient for the state, but we can resist them. We can hold dreams in our hearts that we refuse to offer up to the posting spectacle.

[evie-sturns]

loud - Matt Sturniolo

summary: where you and your boyfriend matt get too loud during sex, the next morning your toddler has a lot of questions after overhearing noises.

contains: smut, dad!Matt, fluff, comforting.

---------------------.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.----------------------

matt repeatedly pounds into me, forcing me further into the mattress. his large hands snake round to my waist, gripping lightly before dragging one of his hands up my back to my hair which he pulls on.

"fuck- oh my god!" i squeal, gripping the sheets infront of me as the sound of skin slapping fills the room.

"matt- matt slow down-" i pant in between loud moans.

"you got it sweetheart, taking me so well aren't you?" matt breathes, his length almost slipping out of me from the intensity of his thrusts.

"too- too deep" i warn, squirming against the matress.

"no its not, you were just begging for me weren't you?" matt whispers into my hair.

he forces my head into the plush of the pillows, muffling my screams, not very well though.

he rests his tattooed arm beside my head, practically laying on top of me now, hitting an impossibly deep spot inside of me.

"dont stop." i squeeze out, clenching around him harshly.

matt lets out a low whimper, "fuck.." he groans out into the back of my hair.

"dont stop- i'm so close matt" i repeat myself, my voice breaking halfway through.

"you got it." matt pants, everything in his body is restraining him from finishing right now, i can hear it in the way hes letting out pathetic quiet moans into my ears, consistently getting louder.

finally, i feel the pressure in my stomach release, warmth coursing through my body as i release over matts dick.

matt thrusts a few more times before pulling out, painting my back and stomach with white.

he flops down next to me. his pale cheeks are flushed and his hair is sticking to his forehead, his red lips are parted as his arms rest messily over his face.

my legs tremble slightly, which matt seems to pick on.

he sits up, gripping the back of my legs steadily. i'm still resting face down in the pillows, completely fucked out.

i let out a small giggle as he rambles, "do your legs always shake like that-? did i do that-"

"yeah" i laugh, rolling over onto my back, "its normal." i grin.

"are you okay." he says, pulling me ontop of him.

"i'm more than okay." i press a kiss to his raw lips.

he sits up and carrys me over to the closet, setting me down on the small chair next to it.

he sorts through the racks of clothes before pulling out some sweats and a loose shirt of his, "you wanna wear these?" he asks softly, bending down to be at my level.

i nod, matt slides the sweatpants up my thighs before tapping my underarms.

"arms up!" he smiles stupidly before letting the shirt fall onto me.

"i'm gonna take a shower then i'll meet you in bed, sounds okay?" he asks,

i nod before tugging my hair into a loose ponytail

matt walks into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, shortly after the water starts.

i decide to do a final check of the house before bed, i swing open the door to our bedroom and step out into the corridor.

i walk towards our toddler, elsie’s room. the door is shut.

“thank god.” i mutter, she’s always been a pain to get to sleep. matt used to have to read her story’s every night for an hour.

i tiptoe back down the corridor into matt and i’s bedroom before flopping down into bed.

matt walks out of the bathroom, his hair messy and wet and the dim light of the room illuminating his sharp features.

his sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips, giving me a full display of his happy trail.

“you okay?” he laughs, snapping me out of my trance.

“matt i swear i could go round 2 right now.” i giggle, matt jumps into bed beside of me and tugs me close to his chest.

“you’re too sensitive for that right now.” matt teases, i flick him before letting my eyes flutter shut.

———-

(the next morning)

9:23am

i roll over onto matt, stirring awake slowly.

matt sits up, i cling to his shoulders as i let out a dramatic groan.

“mmm.” i whine as matt try’s to stand up, “i need to pee.” he laughs, gently removing my hands from him.

“no you don’t.” i yawn,

“i’ll be quick.” matt jogs into the bathroom, i stand up out of bed, stumbling over slightly.

i walk towards the door before fiddling with the door knob before stepping out into the corridor.

i walk towards elsie’s room before creaking it open,

i peak my head through the door and she sits up in bed. her pigtails are messy and she has a concerned look on her cute face.

i flick the light on before walking over to her, she erupts into tears

“oh- oh elsie baby what’s wrong” i say, panic clear in my voice

tears flow down her cheeks as i pick her up.

“matt!” i call out, my eyebrows furrow as i inspect elsie for any reason why she’s crying so much at 9 in the morning.

matt walks into the room, confusion instantly washing over him.

“what’s going on?” he asks, i shrug.

i hand elsie to matt, he tickles the underside of her chin before fixing the hair that’s covering her eyes.

“you wanna tell me why you’re so upset?” matt asks softly,

“y-you you-you were hurting mommy last night-“ elsie cry’s,

“i hea-heard her screaming and- bad words and thumping coming from your room.” she sniffles.

my eyes widen as my head snaps round to look at matt, a small smile creeps onto his face which he attempts to wipe away.

“i promise i wasn’t hurting mommy,” matt says with a small laugh.

“yeah-“ i chime in, sitting down on the edge of her bed. matt sits down next to me, still holding elsie firmly in his arms.

“me and daddy.. were just having fun!” i smile at elsie, rubbing her back.

“no- you told him to stop!” elsie points out, wiping her eyes.

i swallow harshly before looking at matt, “well- when two adults love eachother a lot-“ matt starts, i cut him off instantly

“matt shes 4, she is not having this conversation right now.” i say with a nervous laugh.

elsie looks at me with confusion.

“me and your daddy, were having something really cool called a pillow fight, do you know what that is?” i lie straight through my teeth.

matt bites back a smile.

elsie nods, “i love pillow fights!” she giggles

“yes! you do! and matt was winning the pillow fight so hard so i let out a scream of excitement for him, yeah?” i tell elsie.

“your mommy’s not good at pillow fights.” matt chimes in, i roll my eyes at him

“then when i said stop, that’s because he kept hitting me with the pillow! how silly is that?” i smile.

elsie laughs loudly, letting herself fall back into matt’s chest as she grins widely.

“why were you having a pillow fight at night time!” elsie asks with a excited smile,

“who doesn’t have a pillow fight at night time?! that’s the best time to have pillow fights!” matt says with a fake shocked expression.

“i wanna have a pillow fight!” elsie claps.

“let’s have one tonight after dinner then, how about that?” matt whispers into elsie’s ear, she cheers, throwing her hands into the air.

matt presses a kiss to elsie’s hair before mouthing at me,

‘pillow fight is crrrazzzy.’

i mouth back at him

‘what was i meant to say!’

matt rubs his eyes with a wide smile, “you’re stupid.” he laughs under his breath.

———-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @similartokayyz @rosalierenee43 @idekman1231

@gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @mattybsgf @stupid4sturniolo @lydi2718 @chrisstopherfilmed2 @flosslikeabosss @zturndq @skysturniolo @jetaimevous @sturniolo04 @luxy-nyx @aliceloveschris @livvy4realll @chrissturnsss @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo

@sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72

@strniololoverr @ellizzyy @qrzrrae @mattsturniololoverr @crazychrisl0v3r @starxscapism

[tinystepsforward]

autocrattic (more matt shenanigans, not tumblr this time)

I am almost definitely not the right person for this writeup, but I'm closer than most people on here, so here goes! This is all open-source tech drama, and I take my time laying out the context, but the short version is: Matt tried to extort another company, who immediately posted receipts, and now he's refusing to log off again. The long version is... long.

If you don't need software context, scroll down/find the "ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening" heading, or just go read the pink sections. Or look at this PDF.

the background

So. Matt's original Good Idea was starting WordPress with fellow developer Mike Little in 2003, which is free and open-source software (FOSS) that was originally just for blogging, but now powers lots of websites that do other things. In particular, Automattic acquired WooCommerce a long time ago, which is free online store software you can run on WordPress.

FOSS is... interesting. It's a world that ultimately is powered by people who believe deeply that information and resources should be free, but often have massive blind spots (for example, Wikipedia's consistently had issues with bias, since no amount of "anyone can edit" will overcome systemic bias in terms of who has time to edit or is not going to be driven away by the existing contributor culture). As with anything else that people spend thousands of hours doing online, there's drama. As with anything else that's technically free but can be monetized, there are:

Heaps of companies and solo developers who profit off WordPress themes, plugins, hosting, and other services;

Conflicts between volunteer contributors and for-profit contributors;

Annoying founders who get way too much credit for everything the project has become.

the WordPress ecosystem

A project as heavily used as WordPress (some double-digit percentage of the Internet uses WP. I refuse to believe it's the 43% that Matt claims it is, but it's a pretty large chunk) can't survive just on the spare hours of volunteers, especially in an increasingly monetised world where its users demand functional software, are less and less tech or FOSS literate, and its contributors have no fucking time to build things for that userbase.

Matt runs Automattic, which is a privately-traded, for-profit company. The free software is run by the WordPress Foundation, which is technically completely separate (wordpress.org). The main products Automattic offers are WordPress-related: WordPress.com, a host which was designed to be beginner-friendly; Jetpack, a suite of plugins which extend WordPress in a whole bunch of ways that may or may not make sense as one big product; WooCommerce, which I've already mentioned. There's also WordPress VIP, which is the fancy bespoke five-digit-plus option for enterprise customers. And there's Tumblr, if Matt ever succeeds in putting it on WordPress. (Every Tumblr or WordPress dev I know thinks that's fucking ridiculous and impossible. Automattic's hiring for it anyway.)

Automattic devotes a chunk of its employees toward developing Core, which is what people in the WordPress space call WordPress.org, the free software. This is part of an initiative called Five for the Future — 5% of your company's profits off WordPress should go back into making the project better. Many other companies don't do this.

There are lots of other companies in the space. GoDaddy, for example, barely gives back in any way (and also sucks). WP Engine is the company this drama is about. They don't really contribute to Core. They offer relatively expensive WordPress hosting, as well as providing a series of other WordPress-related products like LocalWP (local site development software), Advanced Custom Fields (the easiest way to set up advanced taxonomies and other fields when making new types of posts. If you don't know what this means don't worry about it), etc.

Anyway. Lots of strong personalities. Lots of for-profit companies. Lots of them getting invested in, or bought by, private equity firms.

Matt being Matt, tech being tech

As was said repeatedly when Matt was flipping out about Tumblr, all of the stuff happening at Automattic is pretty normal tech company behaviour. Shit gets worse. People get less for their money. WordPress.com used to be a really good place for people starting out with a website who didn't need "real" WordPress — for $48 a year on the Personal plan, you had really limited features (no plugins or other customisable extensions), but you had a simple website with good SEO that was pretty secure, relatively easy to use, and 24-hour access to Happiness Engineers (HEs for short. Bad job title. This was my job) who could walk you through everything no matter how bad at tech you were. Then Personal plan users got moved from chat to emails only. Emails started being responded to by contractors who didn't know as much as HEs did and certainly didn't get paid half as well. Then came AI, and the mandate for HEs to try to upsell everyone things they didn't necessarily need. (This is the point at which I quit.)

But as was said then as well, most tech CEOs don't publicly get into this kind of shitfight with their users. They're horrid tyrants, but they don't do it this publicly.

ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening

WordCamp US, one of the biggest WordPress industry events of the year, is the backdrop for all this. It just finished.

There are.... a lot of posts by Matt across multiple platforms because, as always, he can't log off. But here's the broad strokes.

Sep 17

Matt publishes a wanky blog post about companies that profit off open source without giving back. It targets a specific company, WP Engine.

Compare the Five For the Future pages from Automattic and WP Engine, two companies that are roughly the same size with revenue in the ballpark of half a billion. These pledges are just a proxy and aren’t perfectly accurate, but as I write this, Automattic has 3,786 hours per week (not even counting me!), and WP Engine has 47 hours. WP Engine has good people, some of whom are listed on that page, but the company is controlled by Silver Lake, a private equity firm with $102 billion in assets under management. Silver Lake doesn’t give a dang about your Open Source ideals. It just wants a return on capital. So it’s at this point that I ask everyone in the WordPress community to vote with your wallet. Who are you giving your money to? Someone who’s going to nourish the ecosystem, or someone who’s going to frack every bit of value out of it until it withers?

(It's worth noting here that Automattic is funded in part by BlackRock, who Wikipedia calls "the world's largest asset manager".)

Sep 20 (WCUS final day)

WP Engine puts out a blog post detailing their contributions to WordPress.

Matt devotes his keynote/closing speech to slamming WP Engine.

He also implies people inside WP Engine are sending him information.

For the people sending me stuff from inside companies, please do not do it on your work device. Use a personal phone, Signal with disappearing messages, etc. I have a bunch of journalists happy to connect you with as well. #wcus — Twitter I know private equity and investors can be brutal (read the book Barbarians at the Gate). Please let me know if any employee faces firing or retaliation for speaking up about their company's participation (or lack thereof) in WordPress. We'll make sure it's a big public deal and that you get support. — Tumblr

Matt also puts out an offer live at WordCamp US:

“If anyone of you gets in trouble for speaking up in favor of WordPress and/or open source, reach out to me. I’ll do my best to help you find a new job.” — source tweet, RTed by Matt

He also puts up a poll asking the community if WP Engine should be allowed back at WordCamps.

Sep 21

Matt writes a blog post on the WordPress.org blog (the official project blog!): WP Engine is not WordPress.

He opens this blog post by claiming his mom was confused and thought WP Engine was official.

The blog post goes on about how WP Engine disabled post revisions (which is a pretty normal thing to do when you need to free up some resources), therefore being not "real" WordPress. (As I said earlier, WordPress.com disables most features for Personal and Premium plans. Or whatever those plans are called, they've been renamed like 12 times in the last few years. But that's a different complaint.)

Sep 22: More bullshit on Twitter. Matt makes a Reddit post on r/Wordpress about WP Engine that promptly gets deleted. Writeups start to come out:

Search Engine Journal: WordPress Co-Founder Mullenweg Sparks Backlash

TechCrunch: Matt Mullenweg calls WP Engine a ‘cancer to WordPress’ and urges community to switch providers

Sep 23 onward

Okay, time zones mean I can't effectively sequence the rest of this.

Matt defends himself on Reddit, casually mentioning that WP Engine is now suing him.

Also here's a decent writeup from someone involved with the community that may be of interest.

WP Engine drops the full PDF of their cease and desist, which includes screenshots of Matt apparently threatening them via text.

Twitter link | Direct PDF link

This PDF includes some truly fucked texts where Matt appears to be trying to get WP Engine to pay him money unless they want him to tell his audience at WCUS that they're evil.

Matt, after saying he's been sued and can't talk about it, hosts a Twitter Space and talks about it for a couple hours.

He also continues to post on Reddit, Twitter, and on the Core contributor Slack.

Here's a comment where he says WP Engine could have avoided this by paying Automattic 8% of their revenue.

Another, 20 hours ago, where he says he's being downvoted by "trolls, probably WPE employees"

At some point, Matt updates the WordPress Foundation trademark policy. I am 90% sure this was him — it's not legalese and makes no fucking sense to single out WP Engine.

Old text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks and you are free to use it in any way you see fit. New text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks, but please don’t use it in a way that confuses people. For example, many people think WP Engine is “WordPress Engine” and officially associated with WordPress, which it’s not. They have never once even donated to the WordPress Foundation, despite making billions of revenue on top of WordPress.

Sep 25: Automattic puts up their own legal response.

anyway this fucking sucks

This is bigger than anything Matt's done before. I'm so worried about my friends who're still there. The internal ramifications have... been not great so far, including that Matt's naturally being extra gung-ho about "you're either for me or against me and if you're against me then don't bother working your two weeks".

Despite everything, I like WordPress. (If you dig into this, you'll see plenty of people commenting about blocks or Gutenberg or React other things they hate. Unlike many of the old FOSSheads, I actually also think Gutenberg/the block editor was a good idea, even if it was poorly implemented.)

I think that the original mission — to make it so anyone can spin up a website that's easy enough to use and blog with — is a good thing. I think, despite all the ways being part of FOSS communities since my early teens has led to all kinds of racist, homophobic and sexual harm for me and for many other people, that free and open-source software is important.

So many people were already burning out of the project. Matt has been doing this for so long that those with long memories can recite all the ways he's wrecked shit back a decade or more. Most of us are exhausted and need to make money to live. The world is worse than it ever was.

Social media sucks worse and worse, and this was a world in which people missed old webrings, old blogs, RSS readers, the world where you curated your own whimsical, unpaid corner of the Internet. I started actually actively using my own WordPress blog this year, and I've really enjoyed it.

And people don't want to deal with any of this.

The thing is, Matt's right about one thing: capital is ruining free open-source software. What he's wrong about is everything else: the idea that WordPress.com isn't enshittifying (or confusing) at a much higher rate than WP Engine, the idea that WP Engine or Silver Lake are the only big players in the field, the notion that he's part of the solution and not part of the problem.

But he's started a battle where there are no winners but the lawyers who get paid to duke it out, and all the volunteers who've survived this long in an ecosystem increasingly dominated by big money are giving up and leaving.

Anyway if you got this far, consider donating to someone on gazafunds.com. It'll take much less time than reading this did.

[prael]

Delicacy

ILLIT Moka x male reader smut

Happy (kinda late) Moka Day!

Masterlist word count: 5,401 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"Ladies and-a gen-entleman! Step right up! Ge-get yourself a-a mystical item today!" The old Murgo's voice is loud, his tone is jovial. His accent is hard to understand and his stuttering speech patterns would indicate a man who is not well-educated, though you've always expected he puts it all on for show.

His skin is scruffy, full of moles and unkempt facial hair that creeps down to his thin neck. The elderly man's uniform consists of a long, purple-sleeved coat—sleeves that fall every time he waves an arm at the next item he tries to flog.

"Y-you sir! Consider this, this is truly a-a magical mirror, for as long as you lo-look into it, it will make you b-beautiful." He smiles at the group before him, pearly white teeth contrasting with his murky skin colour. They are the only noteworthy things about him, other than his height, a whole foot smaller than the usual man.

The rough-looking labourer by your side mumbles, "What a crock of shit!"

While the bald man at the front calls "I'll take it!"

Murgo, as Murgo so often does, announces the catch, "Very wise pu-purchase. Now, just remember, the m-magic only works if you look a-at in complete darkness."

Murgo collects his due payment and the man at your side shakes his head as he turns away. "Idiots," he grumbles before he walks away.

"You there!" Murgo singles you out. "Do you fancy trying a-anything?" He asks you with a smile.

Murgo's entire stall is packed full of oddities, and none of them are ever what they seem. You may not believe in Murgo's little items, but it's always interesting to come and see what he has to sell today. It's nice to consider his fantastical excuses and embellishments.

"M-may I interest you in a fan-antasy?" He sing-songs. "You must ha-have a wish to make come true? Consider this ma-magical music box! One wish! M-Make it come true!" He boasts about another silly item, something that always leaves you rolling your eyes. Wishes cannot be bought.

"Tha-that's a look of uncertainty. Well, how about this." Murgo holds out a hand containing a single chocolate. A perfect, colourful item shaped like a square. "Gen-entleman, please m-may I present, a most magical item to y-your attention! A chocolate! Bu-but not any chocolate! They say this one tastes of m-mocha, and its ingestion a-allows you to live a fantasy."

You scrunch your brow.

"Ingested fantasies might seem an im-impossibility, but I have p-proven through a rigorous scientific process..."

You know he's lying, as always, but you're not about to interrupt though. You doubt the old man actually has much training in anything even related to science, and everything about him can only lead you to believe that he doesn't own many resources to test things on anyway.

"...so, sir, I urge you!" Murgo finishes his meaningless rambling by saying, "Try and taste your fondest dream. Try the ma-magical wonder and live a dream so real, so plausible that y-you'll forget who you are!"

Live a dream so real... He's definitely lying, but you are curious as to the taste of his chocolate.

Your eyes switch from Murgo's insistent, excited stare to his chocolate, and back to Murgo's knowing smile. "Just this once," you tell him.

-

You sit at your kitchen table, staring at the little rectangular block that rests on the wood.

"A fantasy, huh?" you contemplate. You lean in close and give it a sniff; it certainly smells like chocolate, with a hint of mocha.

Shrugging, you hold up the chocolate and drop it into your mouth. Immediately, it melts away and you're overpowered by the delicious flavour. It's milk chocolate, but you find hints of cocoa and coffee mixed between your lips.

You chew a few times and then swallow. At that moment, Murgo's words ring around your mind. 'Live a dream so real,' they repeat.

You sit and you wait. Staring expectantly at the table, you blink blankly at the slab where the chocolate once rested. You tap your fingers. You scratch the back of your neck. And still, nothing.

"Wow." You shake your head, chastising yourself for thinking so optimistically, and push out the chair.

As you stand, your head spins. The world about you warps into another form, a dark space resembling nothing you have ever seen.

The ground crunches beneath your feet. Gravel, perhaps? Black grazes at the surface, but you can't quite make out any details. As if a curtain has fallen to obscure your vision.

You spin around and wave your hands to find a purchase with something.

And then you feel it. Feel... her?

Small, smooth hands in your own. They let go before too long, and then those hands brush up your forearms.

A shadowed girl—clearly a girl by her soft curves—gently touches your cheek, and you grab her hand again. A soft gasp escapes her, and then she giggles. "Do you know how hard it's been, to be stuck inside a piece of chocolate? Of course, you don't. Why would you?"

This... isn't real. Could you be dreaming? Could you be high, or drunk, or passed out? Perhaps poisoned? You bring your fingers to your face to ensure you're not gushing blood or anything odd. Nope, normal. Completely and utterly normal, so... what the hell?

She whispers as her fingers move along the waistband of your pants, "Did you like the taste of the chocolate? Of... Moka?" She laughs. "My name is Moka, do you understand? Mocha and Moka!"

She has the cutest laugh. Soft, genuine, and one that leaves you smiling. Smiling? You ask yourself what you're doing and how you possibly ended up with some mysterious woman pawing your crotch. Regardless, you answer.

"Yeah," you say, her laugh encouraging you to express honesty. "Definitely not a bad product at all."

"Of course not!" Moka cheers. You catch a glimpse of a smile in the shadows that surround her. "After all, I was made with all the finest ingredients to give a taste that absolutely anyone can enjoy! And you're no exception, are you?" Moka's weight presses against you, and she leans close to your ear to murmur, "This little bump in your pants proves that."

You let out a sharp breath, but no denial. Moka may be shrouded in darkness, but you don't have trouble appreciating her presence. You can feel the warmth from her body, her rounded breasts that are all too tempting to touch.

"I'm so confused..." you whisper.

"Good." With the utterance of one word, you see the brightness of a smile. How wonderful and expressive her face is. The darkness clears and the mystery goes with it. The girl in front of you can only be described as utterly breathtaking. She's wearing this smile that turns up a little more on one side of her mouth than the other, and you're absolutely enchanted by its beauty. There's this beauty mark on her nose, such a cute mole. And then her eyes... you could very happily lose yourself within them.

"So incredibly confused," you repeat, and watch with fascination as a lock of her dark hair slips past a black strip and over her flushed cheek.

Moka kisses you. A gentle, testing peck, but there's no time for timid, because she pounces, and suddenly you're drowning under her affection. Kissing her like this is all you can think about, and the way she tangles her small tongue around your own is wildly erotic, both innocent and sinful at the same time.

You are too complacent, but then Moka brings her body flush against yours. You don't know where she came from, you have no idea why she's here and what's going on, but your body is certainly not questioning that right now. Her lithe form under your touch is as smooth as the chocolate she came from.

"Take me," she all but purrs, "It's what I'm here for."

"But you're..."

"Not real? A fantasy? Exactly. That's all the reason you need to let go," she whispers and there is a clarity that brings her words like truth.

Real or not, you can't deny it. You want her, this exotic enigma. You tug her close, fingers tracing a curve, your lips following a line. Her body, her skin, you adore her. Every facet, every inch, you crave her. You take hold of Moka and lift her, she lets out the gentlest of squeaks but instantly wraps her legs around you, and just the sound and feeling of her draws a shudder out of you.

"I spent months in Murgo's storage, just waiting for someone like you. Every single day growing more and more frustrated as I waited. You can't imagine being that pent up, can you?"

She's taking off your shirt. Impatiently running her hands down your torso, like she can't get enough. You stumble until you plant her against the wall, holding her firm and kissing her with all the frustration she feels, biting and sucking and leaving her breathless.

Moka wraps her arms around your neck, curling her heels, pulling you close.

"I can't imagine it, but you don't have to wait for another second though." You squeeze at her taut thighs, making her whimper with delight.

"Taste me," she whispers and you take your lips to her neck. It's not exactly what she has in mind, but she knows it's inevitable. All roads lead between her thighs.

So you fall to your knees before her. Hands up her thighs, driving up the frills of her skirt. She's a delicacy, soft and pink, beautiful, just waiting to be savoured. And the moment your lips touch the inside of her thigh, she gasps, one palm smacking the wall behind her. The tension, the excitement, the breathless little whimpers that escape her, every little thing, has you completely engrossed.

The whole time you press a barrage of kisses against her thighs, moving closer to her core with each passing second, but the light, teasing kisses draw a litany of frustration out of her.

"P-please..." Moka whimpers.

The breath from her plea leaves her in a shudder. She huffs, already trembling. You test how wet she is with your fingers, feeling her damp warmth, her sticky arousal coating your digits. You're unable to resist running your fingertips up the folds of her pussy, using the natural slickness to help move, dancing around her clit and drawing cries from the breathless girl. Her pleasure is plain to see, the rising blush reaching her chest and the deep breaths escaping her.

You slide a single finger inside her, then quickly two, slowly finger fucking her pretty pink, twisting around and feeling her wrap around you.

"You like it?" you murmur and it's not like you could call anything happening now an act of romance, but you turn your head and kiss her thigh. Such a tender moment is shared despite the sordid acts.

Moka huffs, her fingers clinging to your shoulder. "I need it." She sputters, moaning and thrusting down to meet your slow motions. "Oh... It's so good..."

"It's about to get even better," you say.

You lap your tongue along the seeping moisture of her beautiful cunt, and you lick over her slick folds and lap up everything she has to offer. With deep, intense licks, you give her pussy the attention she's been begging for.

"Ahh! Oh, yes!" she shrieks, falling back against the wall and panting with pleasure.

The sweetness of her nectar assaults you, and your tongue finds the little spot that has her moaning each time you lick near it. Faster and faster you circle her clit, watching as her knees quiver and twitch. Closer and closer, your tongue working her into a frenzy.

"More... I-I... yes, don't stop!" she cries, pulling your face against her. She wants more, she won't wait, and she twists and tangles her fingers into your hair, pushing and grinding her dripping sex against you. "Can you imagine it? I was made for pleasure. To give and receive, only to be forced to hide away, all alone? To suffer every day, tortured by my need?"

Moka whimpers and struggles to keep her breath even. You must want to do something about that, don't you?

You grab her thighs, lifting her off the ground and shifting your hands under her, grabbing her soft, plump ass cheeks. She cries at the movement, but then her legs are wrapped around your shoulders, clutching you to her desperately. You eat her little pussy out furiously, ravaging her drenched folds as she cries out, screams filling the room as you pick up the pace. Your tongue dances around her clit, your fingers sinking deeply into the soft flesh of her cute little ass.

"Oh god... I can't stop myself," her desperate cries fill the room.

You cannot deny this girl, even if you wanted to, so you devour her sweet cunt, and watch as her eyes close, the pleasure becoming too much as her body explodes with euphoric release. She screams, desperately riding your face, her entire body quivering and twitching as she cums. The juices drip down your chin as she rides the wave of intense bliss, rolling her hips, indulging in it, prolonging it for as long as she can.

Finally, the surge of her overwhelming orgasm ends, but she slumps, nearly lifeless in your grasp. You struggle to keep her up, and she keeps trying to grind her sensitive folds against you, but her exhaustion finally hits her. So you take her, back in your arms, and toward your kitchen table.

There she lays, shaking and sweating, struggling to catch her breath, and you want nothing more than to pry her delicate figure from that dress. You strip her, your mouth kissing every newly exposed surface of her perfect body.

"This is how things should have been, how life should have been," Moka mumbles, her dark hair swirling beneath her as she lays across your table. Her sweet skin comes into sight and you can't help running your hands along the feminine curve of her stomach. Her perfect breasts fit in the palms of your hands and you trace circles around her taut nipples as she sighs happily.

You undress, and she watches, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. Her expression is suddenly guilty, as though admiring a man naked isn't something a girl should do. But you caress her face, she's your beautiful enchantress, and that moment of hesitation seems to pass as she leans into the palm of your hand. Her eyes shimmer with acceptance, and she's accepting of all the dirty things she's thinking, all the things she's about to say. "I...I want you inside me," she whispers.

Your cock is erect and eager, so hard, aching, throbbing with the desire to know her warmth, and you line yourself with the wetness between her legs.

Gently, you lean forward, pressing the tip against her tightness. "Are you ready?"

"For however long I've waited," she breathes.

She's quivering under you, full of tension, gripping the edge of the table tightly. The expression on her face is so vulnerable, open and raw, so beautiful. Her chest rises and falls with her need, and there's a hunger burning in her, a fire begging to be ignited.

"Please," Moka begs.

"Gentle..." you tell her, though who it's meant for, you're not entirely sure. But you take a deep breath and ease into her slickness.

She gasps, her grip around the side of the table tightening. It takes a moment, but she grows accustomed, her tension dissipates and her trembling is overcome. She laughs, and the sound is nothing short of stunning. Chime-like, the light, airy melody fills the room as she touches herself. Cupping her supple breasts, and tugging her pink nipples, she indulges in her lust and rocks gently against your hard shaft.

"Fuck away my lusts. Fill the void, be the man I've needed so badly," her sweet voice begins to sing with pleasure, her pitch rising.

Her cunt is so warm and inviting, so wet, stretching tightly around you as you pump back and forth. Wet noises sound with every pass. Moka's eyes glaze over and her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you even deeper.

Your thrusting finds a comfortable, easy rhythm, and soon your hips are slapping eagerly against her every time you push in. Wet noises fill the air each time you drive into her deepest parts.

"God, yes..." her desperation only heightens, "Use me, please. Don't stop, fuck me."

"How could I ever?" you pant, both leaning in, sucking the taste of her chocolate mouth, twirling her tongue, drinking her intoxicating exhales.

She's a dream, this girl is made for indulgence. Her arms hook under yours, hands grasping your shoulders, digging into your back, desperate for some way to anchor herself. You want to touch every part of her, soak up her delicious little whimpers and commit them to memory. As your breath runs ragged and your heart pounds in your chest, nothing other than her is present in your mind. Nothing else matters. She is the pure embodiment of desire.

As the feverish motion speeds up, her soft breasts bounce and her entire body shimmers. Sweat glistens along her slender form and you push her to limits she's never known. Her cries run longer and louder until she's screaming, moaning your name, muttering incoherent praise.

"Moka..." you whisper her name, lacing her with what little you can say with a mind lost in the overwhelming bliss of her body.

It isn't long before your rhythm begins to break down. A rising and falling beat, speeding and slowing, stuttering with your every breath. She's drowning with you, and yet floating all at once. Latching onto you, refusing to let go. Desperate, clamping tightly onto you as you enter her deeper with each sharp thrust.

Panting, drenched, bodies so close. Your hard, feverish heat, her spiking lust, colliding with explosive fervour as you surge forward, burying yourself inside her and grunting as you shudder.

Unbridled and relentless, the swelling heat pulses through you and down your length. Rippling through her, filling her cunt, pouring into her. Her cries peak alongside yours. She shudders and shakes as your pulsing cock pumps a shockwave of ecstasy through her.

Delirious laughter escapes her when her rolling euphoria subsides, and her satisfied smile when she strokes her hand down your hot chest... everything about her... the delight of satisfaction washes through her.

Just what was that? That woman made you feel desires you could never imagine possible. Never could you have imagined something would make you feel as if you were flying.

Never could you imagine her.

And yet here she is.

"Can we..." she seems uncertain now, nervous, unsure.

You take her hands and kiss them. A delicate display of adoration that causes her nervous smile to transform into something happier, more certain. "What is it, Moka?"

She presses her finger to her lower lip, searching for the right words. "We can do this again, can't we?"

You can't resist chuckling at the blush that reaches her chest and the shy way she turns her head.

"Of course," you say.

-

Now you understand, even if vaguely, what happened and how things came to be; your actions and hers.

But, as always, the question remains... can a fantasy ever stay?

Moka is sitting outside on the small porch of your humble home. Fond memories occupy your thoughts; nights filled with bliss; mornings spent listening to her joyous voice.

"Are you having doubts?" she asks, unable to meet your gaze.

You sigh and rest against the rail. Her feelings are difficult to understand sometimes, but you have this odd connection, as if an invisible bridge exists between you, allowing you to feel her as she can you. She wants your happiness, you know that, she craves it, and yet...

"Will you stay?" you ask her quietly, a little afraid of the answer.

The setting sun casts pink across the sky. From the lush valley, there's a stream that cuts across the landscape, shaded by the greenery, broken only by the towering tree that stands tall in the distance. Its wide leaves filter the sunlight, casting gentle patterns in the trickling water. It really is such a peaceful place to live.

You stand and enjoy the moment. Fresh air, the calming simplicity of nature.

"I'm sorry," Moka's voice is only a whisper, "I don't know the limits of the magic that brought me here. If I stay, would I be stuck as a human? If I leave your side, would I ever be able to return? It's as much of a mystery to me as it is to you."

"Should I ask Murgo?"

"That fool? He didn't even know the chocolate was really magic. No," her voice grows firmer, "Don't trust the words of that merchant." Her hands clutch tightly at her knees, "I do have this feeling. I can't quite explain it, but, I've been feeling it since you first tasted me."

"Feeling?"

"A pulling—a tug—toward you, away from you too," she says. "Magic, desires, loneliness... maybe they've been woven together. I can't be sure."

"Not sure I understand."

"I feel it now. There's this need to be satisfied. And when I'm not, it feels like the magic will just tear me away."

You push away from the railing and step towards her. She's sitting, knees pulled against her chest, wearing nothing more than a white linen gown. Seeing her so small...

"So, if I just satisfy you..." You reach out and gently brush your knuckles along her soft cheek. Moka leans into your touch, her deep brown eyes gazing up. Your fingertips push through her silky dark hair and cup her delicate chin. As she stares at you, you can feel the deep, yearning emotion within her. "Then you will stay with me."

"I think—"

You interrupt her with a kiss. Softly locking your lips, bringing her comfort. Just a moment, simple tenderness. Then passion, as you open your mouth and taste the pure sugar of her tongue. Slipping around yours, her hot exhale, her warmth, both erotic and meaningful.

You can only pull away by taking her with you, pulling her up from the chair. Eagerly, Moka smiles and steps into your arms. Squeezing her tight, holding her around the waist, breathing her scent, feeling the tension inside yourself. She kisses you back with the same intensity, lips tight on yours, warm and dripping as they open, teasing you with her sweet taste.

You stumble back towards the railing, bodies entwined. Tilting your head, her chocolate flavour can make anyone addicted. Kissing her, nipping, sucking, biting her lip. Sinking into her warmth, her body. Lifting the hem of her short gown, running your fingers along the silky skin of her thighs. She arches back into the wooden railing, and you break apart the kiss as she sinks into the support behind her.

You take hold of her shoulders and turn her. She braces against the railing and leans forward, showing off that inviting, delicate shape. Between the arch of her back and the curve of her cute ass, she begs to be taken. And that thin linen may as well not even be there; it's so taut, so transparent.

You move behind her. In the fading light of the evening, the shadows reveal more than they hide. Lifting the cloth and leaving her bare. Running your hands down the lines of her hips and sides, your fingers lightly trace back up her ribs and finally, you cup one of her light breasts. Her nipple presses into the palm of your hand, and she's so sensitive, arching at even the slightest touch.

She looks back at you, her eyes longing, knowing what comes next. Spreading your fingers down between her legs, you run them along the slick, wet flesh waiting for you. She's already ready, dripping, and your fingertips only tease her. Bending, lining up your rigid cock against her wetness. You place your other hand on her hip and ready yourself, preparing to push forward.

"I'll never grow tired of this," you say.

Moka looks back at you, blushing, hair over her face as she tries to look through the veil. Before she can respond, you push, and she lets out a sharp cry at being filled. With her firmly held, you slide in and out of her dripping cunt. It's not a frantic, hurried pace, but deep, intense thrusts that give Moka what she needs—give her relief.

"Ah! That's so deep... so deep."

Her moans spill out without restraint. Such a vibrant voice, full of the lusts she's harbouring. Holding her firmly, plunging deeper and faster, her tiny pussy wrapping tightly around you. Wet, slippery squishing echoes through the empty air. Slaps sounding with every time your crotch strikes hers. It's all so lewd and brings you ever closer, keeps driving you.

The deeper her chest falls, the more she arches, and a deep moan escapes as her body shakes. Her orgasm comes strong, fast, and powerful, making her legs quake and her voice stutter. But you hold her and keep fucking. Slipping against her back, clinging to her waist, burying your face in her hair. Her trembling sex tenses and flexes and still she moans, incoherently telling you just how good it feels.

You've lost track of the number of times you've filled her tight cunt in the past few days, so this is just another one of many. She loves it, though; loves feeling you pour so deeply inside her. She'll do anything to feel it. So you fill her. Firm thrusts as you pump her full of your cum, right there on the porch.

-

During the moments she spends staring out the window, you run your hand down Moka's back. She hums a little sound, appreciating the act, and snuggles into the blanket further.

"Cold? I could go get the fire going again if you like."

Moka stares blankly, fixated on a flower just outside the window. She blinks and laughs suddenly.

"Hm? Sorry, what did you say?"

You repeat what you said and she quickly responds.

"It's alright, but there's something I need you to do."

"What is it?"

"Lie on the bed, let me ride you. I want to feel you fill me. I need it." She reaches a hand up and cradles her own breast, grasping at it and squeezing the supple mound.

It's getting worse—her constant need. Like an itch, she says. Something has to constantly be done to keep it from being painful. It's barely been two hours since you were last inside her, and it seems to be the only thing she can think about.

"Please. I just need a little more..."

You can't bring yourself to deny her. Not when she looks at you like that. So you stumble backwards, pulling her naked form along with you, and ungracefully land on your back. Already you're growing hard, just from looking up at her dainty body and recalling all the wonderful acts you have performed and thinking of what is yet to come.

Moka runs her hand through her hair and gazes downward, a serene look washing over her delicate features.

"Smiling suits you," you tell her.

Again, you watch her eyes light up at that little kind of praise. "Thank you," she says, blushing as she clambers across the bed to kneel above you. She fixes her knees on either side of your hips and runs her palms over your chest, teasing your body as her breasts sway before you.

"Oh..." she purrs as she rocks back and forth, rubbing her bare sex up and down your length. "Oh, yes..."

You hum with delight, but remain still for a moment, listening to the happy sounds she's making, letting her indulge in the simple foreplay.

Eventually, she can take it no longer. "Here..." She lifts herself with her thighs and wraps a single hand around your hardened cock, steadying it and gripping tight. With a single gasp, she guides you inside her. Her moisture envelops you and she's so tight, the way her pussy seems to suck you in all the way to the base. But once you reach that far point, you both let out a loud moan of satisfaction. She's got all of you, every last inch of your shaft has found its home inside her.

Moka rests there for a moment, staring down with these innocent, almost vulnerable brown eyes. From the soft feeling of her velvety interior and the cute, lewd look of her blissful face, you can't help yourself, and buck up into her, plunging even further in. She lets out a gasp and stumbles forward, catching herself on your chest.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" you ask.

The dark-haired girl giggles—something that pleases you more than you can describe—and returns to that dainty smile. She pulls her hips and then drives them against you, before groaning, "More than alright."

Moka finds her rhythm. Rolling and grinding her hips, each motion punctuated by her spiking arousal. Her small cunt welcomes the friction, drips with desire. You grip her waist, helping her balance as she bounces in your lap, pushing herself harder and faster each time. She pushes harder, taking more of you, and soon she's crying out your name, begging you to fill her with everything you have.

Her gorgeous form rocks above you. Thrusting vigorously, her little breasts barely bouncing in a way that you can't take your eyes away from. Moka digs her nails into your chest. Her moans and cries grow increasingly desperate.

"You're amazing," Moka moans through her pleasure, voice quivering and trembling with it.

You can feel her clenching tighter and tighter, her insides quaking as she begs, and pleads for release. It brings your climax close, and despite the urgency of her pleasure, she maintains a controlled rhythm. Not so fast as to short-circuit things, keeping you on the very edge of euphoria.

"God, I love the way you..." she exclaims as a bright flush blossoms across her face. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, muting her sound.

"What?" you struggle to speak as her slick folds wrap so tightly around you.

You don't know what it is, but something catches her attention. Her movements slow and she's searching, somehow peering through the dark outside. The noise has stopped too, usually at night there's a cacophony of singing insects and rustling, fluttering wings, but now nothing. No wind or creak or creasing leaf. Quiet. Dead quiet.

Moka slips off of your cock and crawls backwards to the end of the bed.

"What is it?" you ask.

Moka's lips twitch. Anxiety sets in over her features and she steps away from the bed, toward the window. Moonlight kisses her skin, the pale rays dancing on her shadowy form. Your heart falters and you realise... you really do want her here. Like this. Always.

"Moka?"

A strong gust blows and the window swings open. Her silky hair whips against her face, catching on her lips. She raises her hand, fingers hovering lightly in the moonlight. You remain motionless in fear of breaking whatever is occurring. Nothing feels right, not a single thing. As if the fabric of reality has been slashed in two.

The wind howls. The lights flicker and the fireplace across the room somehow brings itself to light. She turns to face it and the flames illuminate Moka's eyes. They glow a pale violet, the hue all wrong, ghostly. A tremble comes over her, and she says just five words. The last five words you'll ever hear from her.

"I'm sorry. I'll miss you."

Her hand turns to dust. The grains reflect the moon as they blow out of the window. You watch as the rest of her body follows, leaving only the imprint of where she once stood.

Time moves slowly—too slowly—like your heart, which can't beat. Something has broken, something in you, though not a sound passes through your lips. Tears stream from your eyes. The pain, the sorrow, the emptiness—it all feels irreparable. You can't bear it, and without a single word, without a single sound, the world goes black.

[naburi]

WILL YOU AVAIL ME AGAIN?

DAHYUN X READER

TAGS: DILDO PLAY, LUBE, BODY OIL, TONGUE PLAY, MISSIONARY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, DOGGY, ANAL

3.4K WORDS

Midnight and still awake, browsing to find a video that will satisfy you for tonight. It seems like you're looking at identical girls, fake big boobs, slim limbs, small waists. They all look the same which you find boring, not until you found her video. Her smooth thick legs are spread to front her tight pink slit, pleasuring herself in front of the camera, only wearing a face mask to hide her identity. “She looks like my coworker”, you said. Milky white skin, thick legs, broad slim shoulders. You didn’t give too much thought to the similarities not until you saw your coworker later that day.

You’re a young corporate man who can’t find romance to have a meaningful connection. You thought finally finishing college will improve your sex life, but what you found is the opposite. Everyone is busy in the fast paced workplace. Nobody has the time to build relationships, you are all too tired to go out to satisfy your sexual life. That’s why you start to lean on watching adult content. It’s easy, quick, and convenient as you can all have different platforms to have access to numerous adult content creators.

“MS. KIM,” you caught yourself calling Ms. Kim's attention. The thought of the woman you watched last night flashes on your mind. Dahyun looks back, “Hi, Mr. y/n, can I help you?,” she asked politely while still baffled you shouted her name. “I… I… No, I don’t have anything to say,” you say nervously. You don’t even know why you called her name. Feeling embarrassed, you apologize to Dahyun and quickly go back to your cubicle. The woman was left standing processing what just happened.

“It’s her right?” You said to yourself, rushing back home, not even bothered to change clothes. You pull out your phone to go back to the website you found the video. You found her page and surfed through her contents. Her first upload was 6 months ago. She goes from posting just the bottom half of her body, cropped from shoulder up, to revealing her head which still keeps her identity with a white face mask. She consistently uploads every week, most of her videos are just herself playing with her slit with different dildos, she also posts a quick video teaser having an intercourse but you need to subscribe to her page to have access to her adult contents.

Dahyun has a great image in your company. She's the youngest but already has few promotions due to her work ethic and dedication. There are rumors that her quick ascension to the corporate ladder is not because of her hard work but due to what she can do for you after work hours. The rumors didn’t hit the ground enough because of how well she befriended everyone in the company. Her young angelic face helps but what caught everyone’s heart is her bubbly personality that shines bright in the dull and depressing workplace.

It’s been a week now, you took every instance to get an interaction with the company’s princess. From personally passing some documents, to having conversations with someone in her department. Dahyun is not in the same department as you thus making your investigation more complicated. You thought about stalking her social media accounts but all are in private. You started befriending her close coworkers but good things about her are the only thing they talk about. Finding proof that they are the same person seems like an impossible task thus you finally gave up. Nothing would change if you prove that they are the same person, it’s not like you will snitch on the company’s princess after all.

Heavy rain pours just as you’re about to clock out. You and your coworkers are standing outside of the entrance waiting for the rain to die down. A white SUV pulls up in front of you, the driver’s window rolled down, its Ms. Kim, “come inside, I'll drop you off at the subway station.” Some of your coworkers who also take a subway with you ride the SUV. Everyone is too shy to take the passenger seat including you. “You can’t all fit in the back, one should sit beside.” She said, nobody what’s to go in front but they manage to convince you. Sitting tightly on the passenger seat, your colleagues at the back keep asking questions to Ms. Kim, as they also what’s to get close to her, while you’re sitting quietly due to shyness.

Dahyun’s phone that’s on the dashboard lit up revealing a notification. You notice a familiar application icon and the text that says she has a new subscriber. This is the proof that you're looking for, Ms. Kim is an adult content creator. Your colleagues in the back didn’t notice the notification and Dahyun just casually turned down her phone, thinking you don’t know what the notification is all about. Everyone is thanking Ms. Kim for the ride, She noticed how happy you are but not giving more thoughts about it.

Arriving at home, you now have more reason to watch all her contents, you're watching the company’s princess pleasure herself. Everyone's beloved coworker is in an adult site spreading her legs for views and money. It's been a few nights now and her masturbation videos became repetitive. Your high needs satisfaction thus you now subscribe to her paid contents to watch her get fucked by different men, from local Koreans to foreigners, she let herself get fucked to make an content. Her most viewed content is where she pours body oil all over her body which highlights her white skin. Her glowing white oiled up skin, made the sex more erotic. Her buttocks made a heavenly sound as the guy is hitting her from behind, her small oiled boobs get massaged sensually before she takes the cock inside her again. Dahyun wails and moans under her face mask as she gets fuck harder. The few bucks you spend for her content is worth it.

You smile and interact with Ms. Kim during the day while touching yourself watching her contents at night, this has become your routine until she has not been in the office for a few consecutive days now. Nobody knows why she’s absent for a few days now and her manager doesn’t want to disclose her reason. Watching her videos doesn’t hit the mark anymore. You’re about to go sleep but a notification pops up on your screen. Dahyun just dropped a new subscription based content. You can subscribe to her live stream where you can select what kind of dildos she will use and what position she will do a live masturbation. How this works is you're gonna give her gifts during the stream for her to follow your instructions.

She announced that the live stream will start tomorrow at midnight. You’re one of the first subscribers that’s in her live, her legs spread open just like the first time you saw her content. Her one hand is caressing her slit while her other hand is fondling her breast, Different sizes of dildos and lubes lined up to her right side. One viewer starts giving gifts with his comments on the stream. She asked Dahyun to use a thick dildo. She lubes the dildo and slowly inserts it in her slit. The thickness of it gives her a hard time as her slit didn’t even get to warm up. Few attempts pass by and she finally gets to put it all inside her, she starts to moan as she’s pumping the thick dildo inside her.

“Use the tentacle dildo and sit on it,” one commented. Dahyun reads this as she gets notified for the gift. She poured lube to the dildo and started stroking it to spread the lube. She sticks it in front of the screen as she slowly impales herself in the tentacle shaped dildo. The unusual shape gives Dahyun a different sensation making her more horny, she grabs both of her boobs as she’s sitting up and down to the dildo. She started to play with her boobs without even an instruction. She’s massaging her under boobs upward then focusing her fingers on her nipples. One of the viewers commented that she should use oil as she’s caressing her boobs. Dahyun follows, quickly pouring oil on her chest, smothering it all over her boobs, her boobs massages get more erotic due to how smooth she caresses her two mounds.

“Use the black dildo, in your anal, sit on it” a viewer commented. The black dildo is noticeably inspired by a big black cock, it's shaped like one and in great detail. Dahyun uses two hands just to pour lube all over the dildo. She turned her back to the camera as she’s slowly sitting on it. Her big butt is now in full view, the sight of her ass taking the big black dildo is too erotic, Dahyun groans as her ass is getting stretched. The viewers are praising her on how erotic she is, they commented that her moans are heavenly. They keep giving gifts even without instructions as they are pleased with what she’s doing.

To your surprised, Ms. Kim is finally back in the office. Everyone greets her and wants to know the reason for her absences. You're happy to see your colleague but you’re too embarrassed to greet her as you know the real reasons why she’s having a hard time walking around the office. You heard that she’s saying to your coworkers that she has a sprained ankle is the reason she can’t walk straight. Nobody bats an eye as the company is just glad to finally see their bubbly princess.

You thought everything goes back to normal but it’s been a week now and Ms. Kim has nowhere to be found, her manager said that she filed for a long leave due to personal reasons. You took the subway with heavy feet as you’re saddened by the news, it seems like you developed an affectionate attitude towards your colleague and just wants to see her do well again. After taking a bath as an attempt to lift your mood. You saw a notification from Dahyun’s page. She’s offering a VIP subscription where you can meet her face to face. This subscription comes with a hefty price and you need to abide by 5 sets of conditions: you can’t remove her face mask during the session, you can’t asked for an oral sex, you can’t ask for her personal information, you can’t record anything during the session, you should wear protection during intercourse.

You didn’t waste any time and avail her VIP subscription even though it’s worth half of your monthly salary. After sending your payment. You received a message where she sends you a time and date where you can meet her. It’s on Saturday afternoon, in one of the hotels in the city. The sudden realization that Dahyun will know that you’re one of her subscribers sent you into a frenzy. You don’t want to cancel your meet up as this golden opportunity may not knock again.

It’s Friday night, you do a quick shopping for self care materials as you want to look good and smell good when you finally do it with Dahyun. You are embarrassed to buy packs of condoms as it’s been ages since you last bought one. It’s the day of the meet up. She sends you a message that she will wait for you in the room. You're now in front of the hotel, standing nervously while wearing… a face mask. You plan to also somehow conceal your identity to Ms. Kim because you don’t want to destroy your working relationship with her. This plan fails miserably as Dahyun can’t hide her shock expression the moment she opens the room door.

There’s an awkward air in the hotel room. It seems like the two of you might not do it out of embarrassment. The silence in the room was broken by a pop up message on her phone. You notice how her expression changed as she read the message. Whatever is in the message is enough for Dahyun to ignore that her coworker will share the same bed as her. She laid her conditions in a serious tone as she removed her clothing, sitting naked on the center of the bed waiting for you to make a move on her.

You strip down your clothes in nervousness while only leaving the face mask. You awkwardly sit in front of the naked woman. You look in her eyes to see her expressions, but she doesn’t have any, it looks like she’s ready for whatever you want to do with her. You first touch her boobs, your two hands awkwardly reach to her mounds, carefully playing it. Dahyun knows that both of you will get satisfied with you still being cautious. “Mr. Y/n, I know it’s you, you can remove your face mask and do me as you please,” she said finally addressing the elephant in the room.

Dahyun’s message wakes you out of your nervousness. You’re here fuck the company’s princess and that’s what you do, you remove your face move and instructed her to lay down. The woman that you have been watching every night is not laying down in front of you. You position yourself on top of her reaching her two boobs again but this time, caressing them like how they deserve. Dahyun's boobs perfectly fit her body, and shaped her body to great proportions. The woman groans on how aggressive you mauled her boobs but you can’t help yourself due to how soft they are. Her pink nipples that you saw her playing on her content are now in the tip of your own fingers.

Dahyun yelps as you play her nipples. This encourages you to use your tongue to pleasure one of them. Flicking her nipple in a circular motion she grabs your hair to press your head even closer to her boobs. You notice that Dahyun also brings her toys with her. You reached out for her bag on the side table, from watching her oiled body to being the one pouring it to her. You pour directly on her nipples which caught her off guard by the wet sensation. From her nipples to her boobs, you massaged her body, smearing the oil in the process. Her white milky skin glistening, her smooth skin gets slippery making it easy to caress the rest of her body.

You pour oil down to her legs as well, massaging her thick legs, your fingertips move dangerously close to her slit which elicits a gasp from Dahyun as she’s anticipating it. You notice how she got wet after you massage her legs. You lick her slit up to taste your colleague. Dahyun keeps moaning as your tongue explores her slit. From her slit up to her clit, you lick every part of it, making your goal to eat Dahyun well. Your tongue focuses on flicking her clit, the woman jolts her hips in pleasure. You hold down her waist to keep her in place while continuing your barrage on her clit. You notice wetness in your chin due to Dahyun getting more wet. You hardened your tongue now and inserts in and out of her slit. The woman pushes your head down even more, while her other hand is stimulating her clit. You suck and lick your colleagues till she shakes her hips due to orgasm.

Dahyun is laying down letting her orgasm flow till she feels your tongue is now exploring her ass. Her ass is as pink as her slit, you spit on it as lube before you slowly lick her ass. Her legs started to move uncontrollably as she’s not used to her ass getting licked. From soft circular motions to fast in and out of her ass, every touch of your tongue elicits a loud moan from Dahyun. You notice she used one of her dildos to rub her slit while you're eating her down there. This signals to you that she’s ready.

You stand up to wear a condom while Dahyun can’t wait as she’s already shoving a dildo in her slit while she’s waiting for you. You smirk as your naughty colleague can’t wait any longer. Spreading her legs up. You position your cock in front of her slit that still has a dildo inside it. You pull the dildo out of her and it reveals how her slit forms into a hole that accommodates the size of the dildo. Dahyun is looking at your cock seamlessly entering her slit. The feeling of a warm cock can’t beat any size or shape of a dildo she thought. You hold her small waist as you gradually quicken up the pace. Hands on her face masks to cover her mouth, she’s embarrassed how her coworker can make her moan this load. Her muffled moan only adds to your fuel to fuck the company’s princess like she’s your slut.

You hear Dahyun calling your name through her covered mouth, her walls tightening, the woman is near her orgasm. You now hold her wide hips to get a better grip of her as you rammed your cock deep inside her as face as you could. Dahyun let go of her mouth to let a loud moan echo all throughout the room. You let her orgasm again while your cock is still inside her. Pulling out, you want to keep her slit stimulated. You put the dildo back inside her as you asked Dahyun to masturbate using her dildo while you fuck her from behind. You position her in a doggy position, her ass still wet from your tongue assault earlier on. She felt your tip bump in the entrance of her ass. Dahyun’s face is in the bedsheet, one hand plowing the dildo in her slit, she felt your warm cock slowly entering her ass. The woman groans lowly as she’s taking it all deep in her. Dahyun tight ass is no Joke, even though this ass takes the biggest of dildos, it’s still tight like it’s begging to get worn down. Dahyun has a big white ass which is impaled with your cock. Every slap to her meaty ass leaves a red mark of your hand. You both groaned as you started to move your cock in and out of her. You remember the endless nights you watched this big ass of her get fucked by dildos or other men, but for this moment, it’s yours to destroy. You plow your cock slowly and deep in her ass making sure your tip reaches as deep as your can. Dahyun is now biting her face mask, muffling her cries of pleasure. You began to move your cock at a quicker pace which made Dahyun speak inaudibly. She can’t move her dildo anymore as she’s getting too stimulated on how you fuck her ass. You’re now maintaining a quick pace plowing her ass, Dahyun cries your name as all she knows now is how your cock pleasuring all parts of her tight ass. She tried to reach for your arm that is holding her hips to signal you that she can’t take it anymore. Dahyun is about to turn into a mess. Her body drops on the bed but you still keep fucking her ass. Dahyun doesn't know how long it has been but she noticed when you asked her if you can cum on her back. She can only muffled a “Yes,” before you remove your cock in her ass and spray paint her back with all your cum.

The woman fell asleep for a few minutes before sitting up like she’s in a hurry. She asked if she could leave now, still catching your breath. You agreed to leave together. “I need money, my brother is sick, he will undergo operations next week,” Dahyun said as she’s driving you to the subway station. Without asking a question, she answered what you’re terrified to ask. You listen to her story while she’s driving you to the subway station. Her parents are too old to work, her family is only dependent on her. She asked if you can keep this between the two of you. She said she will go back to work after her brother’s operation.

“Will you avail me again?” Dahyun jokingly asked.

[princesajellyfish]

Taste me

Rating: Mature (18+ No Minors allowed)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Characters: Laios Touden Content: Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Semi-Public Sex Word count: 3805 Reader has a pussy and and wears a skirt. Everything else is up to interpretation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Laios, you're so special to me.”

Currently you lay on the hard and rocky floor of the dungeon. Pebbles and sharp edges poked your soft flesh and the back of your head started to ache from being pushed against its hard surface. But how could you possibly pay attention to that when you have the world's most handsome explorer in between your thighs. If you would've known that this is how confessing would've turned out you would've done so much much sooner. 

Laios and you had shared mutual attraction for each other for sometime now. You, of course, noticed it much earlier than Laios ever could've. He was such a cutie, even though he was doing his best to hide his affections towards you it was impossible for you not to notice his longing gazes at night by the fire, or the extra portions of food that he would put aside for you. You would have been a fool not to notice any sooner. 

Knowing Laios for as long as you have you knew that approaching the subject subtly was not going to work out with Laios. When it came to romance, it was not going to cut it. The love of your life was caring, sweet, and knowledgeable on all things monsters and dungeons, but he was not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to social cues. You didn't mind of course, that was one of the things you found the most endearing about him. No matter how wary he was of other people and their intentions he always did his best to stay as genuine and sincere to himself as he could. The way he was so brave and willing to be unapologetically himself made you look up to him and admire his strong will. But gosh was he dense. 

Swallowing your own nerves you knew that if you wanted this relationship to advance anywhere you were going to have to to set things in motion. Not wasting any time one evening after eating a dish that consisted of harpy eggs and vegetables from senshis garden you volunteered to accompany Laios on a quest to find some extra fire material. 

Walking alone in the dungeon halls was not the most romantic ambiance or the place where you imagined you would have your love confession in - but this was Laios you had fallen for, confessing here was probably his equivalent of a grandiose cherry blossom confession. 

He had been rambling about his dream monster, something he had only spoken to you about, apart from his sister Falin, before you interrupted him. “I'm so sorry Laios, you know I love your monster talk…but there is something important I have to talk to you about.” you wrung your hands into the fabric of your long skirt, twisting and pulling to find confidence in between its threads. 

Sensing your nerves Laiois placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and nudged you to turn your body slightly towards him. His gorgeous puppy dog amber eyes peered into yours and scanned your face over, you guessed he was checking you out to see if you had any injuries bothering you. In return you averted his own gaze and stared down at your fidgeting hands. Finally he spoke up to break the silence, “Hey? Everything alright? Did the food not settle well with you?”

Oh silly Laios, always thinking about food, If you weren't so nervous right now you would've laughed at his question. Shaking your head you found the courage to lift your eyes back to his. 

You knew that Laios at least held some sort of affection towards you. You were still unsure if it ran as deep and as passionate as your feelings for him but you knew there was something there. You also knew that even if Laios wanted nothing to do with you in that way he would never belittle you for it. He was gentle and kind, a little too much sometimes, but he always treated others with respect. He had never done anything to hurt you purposefully. So you weren't quite sure why you felt so shaken by your attempt to confess. You supposed, that is just what love feels like. 

You really hoped it would get a little less scary in the future. 

“Laios, I think I love you.”

There, you said it. As blunt and straight to the point as you could, You made sure to leave nothing up to interpretation for Laios. You wanted him to fully understand the gravity of your feelings for him. Feeling anxiety crawl up your throat you quickly added  “And it's okay if you don't feel the same way. Or if that's too much too soon. I just wanted you to know.” 

The more you spoke the more you felt your voice die in your throat, each word sounding quieter than the last. Laios had still not said a word, but he stared at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. In this moment you felt like you could puke from your nerves and yet you still thought the man in front you couldn't possibly look any cuter, 

Suddenly you heard him take in the biggest breath of air he could muster, alerting you that this man had stopped breathing since you confessed to him, and then exhaled with the most hearty laugh you've ever heard come from him. His cheeks bloomed in hues of reds and pinks, unstoppable rivers of blood that reached the tip of his fingers and pooled to his neck. His eyes blinked rapidly as if he was trying to make sure he wasn't in a dream. “Please,” he hiccuped, “Do you mean it?” 

You stared at his face before lowering your gaze to his lips. They were slightly parted and you could get a glimpse of his cute pink tongue. He must've noticed your stares because he let his tongue quickly swipe over his lips to wet them. Gazing back up to his eyes your hand finally let go of its death grip on your skirt and instead gently nestled into the side of his face. “I wouldn't even dream about joking about this Laois.” His eyes suddenly felt too intense for you so you closed your eyes and took another deep breath, “I love you and I can't contain it anymore. From the moment I met you I fell so deeply for you. You're so perfect. So kind.” You rubbed gentle circles on his cheeks, “‘You drive me crazy.”

Every word you spoke felt like a punch to the chest for Laios. In the best way possible. He never knew that hearing you sing such praises about him would affect him so viscerally. To his embarrassment he began to feel his pants become uncomfortably tight. “Not right now,” he thought. He didn't want to ruin your confession with his pervy thoughts. 

He brought his hand up to your wrist and held it in his grasp. You observed how his eyebrows crinkled in frustration as he shut his eyes tightly. His breathing seems labored and small beads of sweat began to form on his hairline. If it wasn't for his grasp on your wrist you would have fallen backward from the overwhelming amount of desire you felt for him. Gods…you wanted him so bad. 

Taking advantage of his closed eyes you let your own travel. You started off by staring at his lips still moist from his tongue, but your sinful desires seemed to take full control of your actions as you let your eyes wander further down his body. His armor in the way of you admiring his chest annoyed you for a second before you got a glimpse of something better. So this is why he was in deep concentration. 

Laios was suddenly shook from his stupor when the sound of your airy laugh reached his ears. Slowly peeking his eyes open he was welcomed by the sight of your beautiful face. Eyes clouded with something he couldn't describe stared directly at his current source of frustration. Gasping he pushed himself back and dropped your wrist as if it had burned him. 

He opened his mouth once, twice, three times to attempt and get some words out but for the life of him he couldn't form a single coherent sentence. A thousand things ran through his head and now it was turn to fidget with his hands. Pulling and picking his fingers he turned his body to face the wall behind him. He knew his silence could be taken wrongly and the last thing he wanted was to mess up his chances with the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. 

Thankfully, you knew the man you had fallen for better than you knew yourself. So you allowed him to have his moment alone. After all, you were more than pleased with his reaction to your confession. 

Finally he turned his head to the side, body still facing the wall, and began to speak up. “I'm sorry, I promise I'm not a perv. I don't know why I'm reacting like this,” He took in another deep breath, “You deserve a more romantic response.”

Giggling you made your way towards him and wrapped your arms around his armored torso, resting your head against his back you let out a content sigh. At this sudden feeling of warmth Laois tensed up before he quickly relaxed in your arms. “You're perfect Laios.”

Fuck. 

He was so fucking hard. Did you even know how much power you had over him? How all you had to do was ask him to give you the world and he would do it. You could ask for the moon and the stars and he would spend his entire life figuring out how to do it. He loved you. Oh he loved you so much. Gods, the minute he laid eyes on you for the first time, you introduced him to a thousand new emotions he had no idea what to do with for the first time in his life. He knew what attraction was, and he understood what it meant. But love? This type of love? He wanted to learn everything about it solely with you. 

Gaining confidence he flipped his body to face you, careful with your arms as he held them against himself. You could've melted in his arms right then and there, he looked at you with such adoration and love you almost felt bad about how much it excited you…almost. Testing the waters you pushed your body against his, feeling his boner poking your body. 

“Hmph- wait (y/n),” his face becoming impossibly more red than before. He laid his head on top of yours and breathed in your scent. There was no way he was going to be able to control himself for much longer if you kept testing him like this. 

Feeling bold, and a little impatient, you positioned your arms to wrap around his neck and brought your lips to his ear to whisper “It’s okay baby, I feel the same way too.” 

You gently grabbed his, very sweaty, hand and placed it on the hem of your skirt. “I want you Laios,”  his fingers curled around the hem, “If you want me too then I'm all yours.” 

That was all he needed to hear. Almost too fast your skirt was pooled around your ankles and the cold dungeon air kissed your bare legs. Still pressed against him you not only heard but felt the vibrations of his almost animalistic growl he released.

Gently separating from him you reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, discarding it on the floor. You wished there was a way to permanently tattoo the sight of Laios staring at you as if you were an angel sent from above into your eyelids. He made you feel so loved, so beautiful. One of the many reasons why you fell in love with him.

He quickly reached out for you once more and attacked your lips with his tongue, he wanted, no he needed, to taste you. Hot breaths melted into each other and moans danced together in the air. Your fingers wrapped around his ash blonde locks and slightly pulled whenever he would bite down on your lower lip with his teeth. As dreamy as this felt, there was still something bothering you. Tilting your head away from Laios you watched as he instinctively tried to follow your lips before you rested your palm against his. “I dont think it's really fair that I'm the only one half naked here.”

Gasping at your confession Laios began to fumble with his armor. Amused you watched as he clumsily pulled it off with a sense of urgency. Now Laios was not the type of person to hyperfixate on his body. He never really put in the time to debate whether he was handsome or not. His mind was always preoccupied with monsters, food, dungeons, and only recently you. But now that you were in front of him, waiting and watching, he felt the ugly sensation of insecurity make its way into his mind. Maybe you would take one look at his body and wish you were with someone more toned and ripped. He wasn't the skinniest guy, and for the first time ever he didn't like that. 

You noticed he was hesitating with removing his shirt and it honestly broke your heart. So you approached him and placed your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing the fat causing his face to contort into an adorable little pout. “We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with love,” you gave him a little peck on his pouty lips, ”But trust me when I say I love you. ALL of you. Including your body.” 

Oh…you were not real. That's all Laios could think. How on earth was there such a perfect person? An actual Goddess walking amongst mere mortals like him. How did someone as perfect as you fall for someone as strange as him? He didn't notice it but his eyes started to sparkle with unshed tears. For so long he's been alienated from this type of affection. Something he didn't know was bothering him deep down inside until he finally got it from you. 

He swore right then and there he would do anything to make you feel good. If you were a goddess then he was your most loyal worshiper. He finally removed his undershirt and stood before you bare chested. Before you had time to admire him he kneeled at your feet. “Laios? What are you doing?” 

“(y/n)...” He lifted your right foot and placed gentle kisses on it, “I'm going to show you just how much I love you.” 

Your words died in your throat as you watched him begin to trail his kisses from your foot to your ankle, and from your ankle to your leg. Every time his lips made contact with your skin your core pulsed with desire. His eyes never breaking contact with yours. Mentally imprinting your cute expressions and sounds into his mind forever. Finally he arrived at your inner thigh, its plushness making his dick twitch with excitement. If he wasn't so far gone he would've been a little embarrassed. But just a little.

He tried, he really did try, to control his impulses and not bite that delicious plush skin. But alas he was still a man, and you were so cute, so so cute. You jolted and gripped his hair when you felt his blunt teeth push down on your thigh, it hurt, but it felt so right. This continued on for a while before you started to lose your patience. You needed to be touched and he was taking too long, ignoring the most sensitive part of you. Bucking your hips you anchored his face to your core and held him there with your grip on his hair, not missing the moan he let out at your sudden dominance. “Then stop teasing and show me just how much you love me.”

His hands gripped your hips and he pressed his nose in between your folds, fuck you smelled so good. He was inexperienced with pussy but he was a professional eater, so he let his instincts take over. Pushing your underwear down he wasted no time connecting his tongue to your sensitive folds. He began by lapping up your delicious juices, immediately trying to guess what the flavor resembled. It was a bit tangy but somehow had a little bit of sweetness to it. He wondered if the food you had eaten today affected its taste, specifically the candy they had made with the dungeon spirits. This only made his cock impossibly more hard, already planning on tasting your delicious pussy every night after a good meal just to see how much it affected the way you tasted. Fuck was he in deep. 

Wanting to get a better taste he searched for your hole and once he located it he wasted no time pushing his tongue inside, fucking you with it. You began to roll your hips on his face, trying to meet the pace of his tongue. Your freed one of your hands from its deathly grip on his hair and moved it towards your clit. As good as Laios was making you feel, you needed a little more stimulation. This of course was not missed by him. 

Separating from your core with an obscene pop, he looked up at you, his mouth, chin, and even his nose glistening with your juices. “Please (y/n), teach me where to touch you.” 

Oh you were much deeper than him. But how could you not be?

Pushing yourself off the wall you were previously leaning on for stability you decided to lay down. Spreading your legs you used your hands to spread your pussy for Laios to observe. “This right here is called the clit, this is the most sensitive area.” He nodded along with extreme enthusiasm. Typical Laios you thought.

“You can rub it, lick, or suck on it.” You then inserted two fingers into your wet hole. “You already know what this is, but if you finger me here while licking my pussy-” a small whine managed to escape your lips, “You'll make me cum in no time baby.”

This brings us to where this originally started. With you writhing and moaning against the harsh dungeon floor as Laios abused your swollen pussy in every which way. So lost into your pleasure you couldn't even tell what was his tongue and what was his fingers anymore. Meanwhile Laios was having the time of his life in between your legs. While he was pleasuring your cunt, savoring, sucking, lapping, and overall devouring you, his hips bucked into the floor, chasing his own release. He could cum just by eating you out. 

You felt your legs begin to shake involuntarily, and you knew what this meant. “Laois! Im- Im-!” 

He knew exactly what you were trying to say by the way your legs began to grip his head “Mmph, cum for me baby.” 

He flattened his tongue on your clit and began bobbing his head side to side as fast as he could, occasionally stopping to suck on it with fervor. Meanwhile his fingers were pistoning your hole, curling inside to find your sweet spot. A sudden hot flash of pleasure completely took over your body and you couldn't contain yourself from gushing your orgasm all over his face. You swore you saw white as you let out your release. 

Laios felt so good he could cry. Your taste, your moans, your pussy, your everything was too overwhelming. He wanted more and at the same time couldn't handle it. With one last buck to the floor he felt his own searing release take over his body. Cumming in his underwear the vibrations of his own moan electrifying your cunt. 

After a few moments of you both catching your breaths and riding out your orgasms in bliss the reality of where you were hit you both like a ton of bricks.

Oops. 

You prayed the rest of your party members were too distracted with their own chores to have heard the sinful indulgences you and Laios participated in. In the middle of the dungeon no less. Oh well, you were too content with the man who was currently laying on top of you to really care. Unfortunately you knew that they would eventually come looking for the two of you if you took too long to return. Patting his back you pushed your body off the ground with your forearm and placed a gentle kiss on his head. 

Moving his head to look into your eyes he let out a gentle sigh. Clearly not ready to let go and head back just yet. He pressed a few kisses into your neck and hugged you tightly. He finally had you. Giggling you proceeded to sit up all the way and grabbed his face to attack him with kisses. Once you landed on his lips you noticed how you could taste yourself against him. 

“GUYS! WHERE ARE YOU?!” That was definitely Marcille. 

FUCK!

You both quickly scrambled to your feet and frantically searched for your discarded clothing, almost painfully pulling it on your bodies. Neither one of you had time to wipe down which caused you both to cringe a little. But that was better than being caught in such an intimate position by someone you both respected and cared about. Plus the embarrassment you would feel later would surely keep you up for nights on end. 

You quickly turned to Laios and without thinking ran your hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look presentable. If you weren't so focused you wouldn't have missed the pure look of awe and admiration he held for you at that moment. 

“There you are! We were beginning to get worried.” turning the corner, Marcille stood with a hand against her chest, letting out a deep sigh. 

“Huh what happened to you guys! You look like you just ran a marathon or something! Did you encounter any monsters?!” 

At the mention of monsters Laios quickly spoke up and formulated a very abstract lie about you and him getting chased by some creature. You honestly couldn't focus much on what he was saying, just being grateful that your man had all the knowledge in the world about monsters to create a believable story. Grabbing his hand you squeezed it. A wordless gesture that meant the world to the both of you. 

Now you wondered, when you were going to be able to return the favor to him.

.............................................................................................................................

AN: Hello!!! Thanks for reading this very self indulgent fic I wrote at my very adult job LOL. In case you couldn't tell this man has me in a chokehold. This is my very first time posting my writing and my first time writing a "x reader" fic. So I apologize if it feels a lil ooc at times.

I think I'd like to continue writing for Dungeon Meshi and possibly for other fandoms, so if you guys have any requests my inbox is always open. :3

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Venus can reveal how we judge others based on its elemental placement. Read below to see how your element influences your judgments.

And yes, I understand that some of you are pure souls who claim to never judge—but let’s be honest, most of us have a messy side!

Fire Venus: Character Focused Judgments

Fire Venus individuals tend to judge people quickly. They often criticize others for being weak, overly cautious, or too passive, as they dislike those who don’t go after what they want. They might talk about how they feel superior to someone else and often gain attention themselves. As a result, they may view others as boring or uninteresting.

Fire Venus placements can also be judgmental about a person’s friends or the family they come from. They pride themselves on being able to detect fake friendships and generally dislike people they perceive as fake, uppity, or pretentious. They often criticize others for not being more free-spirited or for being uptight.

When it comes to fashion, they have a clear sense of what they like. While they aren’t necessarily trying to stand out, they will judge someone who seems to be trying too hard to appear aesthetic. They may also look down on people who lack personality, are overly submissive or docile in relationships, or don’t exhibit any dominance. Additionally, they can be critical of those who are consistently negative, pessimistic, or down.

Earth Venus: Status Oriented Judgments

Earth Venus individuals are highly particular and often more judgmental than Fire Venus. While Fire Venus judges based on qualities they take pride in within themselves, Earth Venus can judge others even when they feel insecure. Their judgment spans across a wide range of things, making them very critical.

They’ll judge people based on their accomplishments—or the lack thereof. If they can’t visibly see someone’s achievements, they’re likely to criticize them for not doing enough with their life. Earth Venus individuals are also very nitpicky about style and fashion. They might focus on the smallest details, such as how someone wears their hair, applies makeup, or accessorizes with jewelry. Even personal scent and hygiene can be points of judgment.

They also assess whether someone appears goal-oriented or organized. If a person seems directionless or like they’re just “floating” through life, Earth Venus will judge them harshly. They place heavy emphasis on physical appearance, often making quick judgments about whether someone is attractive or not.

Education and career are other areas where Earth Venus is critical. They may judge someone for not going to college, for having fewer than two degrees, or for not earning a certain salary. Where someone lives, the hobbies they pursue, and even the family they come from are all potential areas of scrutiny. Earth Venus individuals tend to form opinions about a person’s friends and social circle as well.

Unconventional lifestyles are another source of judgment; they’re quick to label someone “weird” for living differently. They are incredibly judgmental about body weight, daily habits, and even how others approach the same tasks they do. Even if someone achieves the same outcome, Earth Venus might criticize them for not doing it the “right” way—their way.

Overall, Earth Venus is arguably the most judgmental of all Venus placements. They evaluate everything with a critical eye and often hold people to impossibly high standards.

Air Venus: Cerebral and Social Judgments

Air Venus individuals can also be highly judgmental, often driven by their superficial tendencies. They tend to place a significant emphasis on appearances and may judge someone solely based on how they look or present themselves to the world. If someone doesn’t meet their standards of physical attractiveness or style, they can be very critical.

They also value intellect and are quick to judge others based on their intelligence. They’re not afraid to label someone as “dumb,” “slow,” or “stupid” if they feel the person lacks knowledge or common sense. Air Venus individuals are the type to say, “common sense isn’t so common.” If someone doesn’t understand certain things, they may become irritated and judgmental, often calling people out for it.

They’re critical of overly emotional people and those who don’t rely on facts or logic. Air Venus individuals tend to judge those they perceive as monotonous, boring, or close-minded. Traditional people, in particular, might rub them the wrong way, as Air Venus often gravitates toward progressive or innovative ideas.

Materialism can also play a role in their judgments. They may criticize someone who doesn’t follow the latest trends or lacks certain material possessions they deem valuable. They are keenly aware of how people talk, what they support, and how they engage in conversation. If someone struggles to hold their attention or lacks conversational depth, they’ll likely judge them.

Air Venus is also critical of people who are overly demanding, dependent, or emotionally attached. They value independence and will judge anyone they perceive as clingy or too reliant on them. Additionally, they are quick to form opinions about those who disagree with their views or fail to align with their way of thinking.

Overall, Air Venus individuals can be harshly critical, often holding people to high intellectual and social standards while heavily prioritizing aesthetics and independence.

Water Venus: Emotionally Driven Judgment

Water Venus individuals base their judgments primarily on how they feel about others, making their evaluations deeply personal and subjective. They often rely on their intuition, sensing people’s energy and deciding, “I don’t like this person” or “I don’t like how this person is.”

Interestingly, they dislike overly judgmental people. If someone judges them, they’ll respond in kind, criticizing that person for being judgmental. Water Venus placements also judge others based on their sentimentality and capacity to care. To earn their approval, you need to be nurturing, loving, and compassionate. If you fail to meet these standards, they’ll label you as cold, dry, heartless, or uncaring. They are especially critical when they feel someone lacks true empathy.

Additionally, Water Venus individuals judge people who are overly materialistic or superficial. They have a strong dislike for those who prioritize appearances or wealth over genuine qualities. If someone only cares about looks or money, a Water Venus will quickly criticize them for being shallow or insincere.

In essence, their judgments are rooted in emotional authenticity, care, and depth. They value meaningful connections and are quick to judge anyone who doesn’t align with these principles.

[zepskies]

Down to the Crust

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You’ve set out on a very specific mission for Dean. The problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.

Request: Since reading your imagine, "Dean Gives You an Impossible Choice," I have not been able to shake it, one point specifically. I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is learning to bake pies for Dean. She's best friends with the boys, but she and Dean have undisclosed feelings for each other…

AN: You guys know I love baking shenanigans lol. This one is set at a particular time during season 14…

Song Inspo: “Joy” by Blackstreet

Word Count: 2.6K

Tags/Warnings: Flangst, hurt/comfort, hint of spice~

No, no, no, no, NO!

You did your best to scoop out the salt you’d just poured into the flour.

You can’t really be this dumb, you berated yourself. How could you confuse one white powdery thing for another? Salt vs. sugar—it wasn’t that hard!

You shook your head in simmering frustration. You decided to just dump the whole contents of the bowl, salty flour and all, into the garbage. You’d have to start again…for the third time now. 

Frankly, this was getting ridiculous. You could make cookies, brownies, even cupcakes (with homemade buttercream).

How hard could a pie really be?

Maybe it was the telltale tremble of nerves in your hands.

Maybe it was because you had an ulterior motive for doing this, besides your formerly pure love of baking.

Maybe because this promised dessert was for one pie-loving glutton who was set to come upstairs from the garage any minute. Or at least, whenever Dean’s stomach finally called him back to the kitchen.

Though recently, he hadn’t been all that hungry. He’d denied your friendly offer of a snack earlier (since when did he turn down taquitos?), and he’d barely touched the pizza you guys had for dinner yesterday. (One slice? The man could eat half a pizza in one sitting. To your knowledge, there wasn’t a pie he didn’t like.)

Dean hid it well, but he wasn’t on his game. You knew why, of course, but…

You sighed and measured out the last of your flour for a fresh try. If you messed this one up, you’d literally have to wash your hands of this mission. And yes, it had become mission fucking impossible, as far as you were concerned.

Once the flour was safely mixed with a cup of sugar, you cut up some chilled butter to create the pastry dough. You followed the instructions in the recipe even more carefully this time, from your open laptop on the kitchen counter. The keyboard was dusted with flour at this point, along with your hands and arms. You even felt it under your nails and in your hair, but you didn’t care.

You were going to make this damn pie if it killed you.

You’d even bought real cherries, not the canned filling. It meant more work for you in removing all the pits inside them, but this was worth the extra labor.

However, as it just occurred to you, you’d left them simmering with some sugar, lemon juice, and cornstarch in a pan, around the time of your second attempt at pastry dough.

“No!” you gasped, hastening to open the lid and checking the saucepan.

Oh, thank God, you thought, seeing that the cherry filling wasn’t bubbling over. It actually looked like the proper thickened consistency and smelled delicious. You just needed to do some more stirring.

An hour or so later, you had successfully shaped the dough, chilled and poured in the filling, and covered it with the (embarrassingly uneven) lattice work on top.

“Whatever. The man still believes in the Five-Second Rule. He’ll eat this,” you muttered as you slid the pie in. You even remembered to do an egg wash on top. You admired it for a moment in its raw pastry form, then closed the lid to the oven with a nod of satisfaction.

You wore a wide smile, feeling accomplished, until you turned around and saw the disaster you’d made of the kitchen. Flour was dusted across the counters, a pile of dishes in the sink, cherry remnants in the pan and dripping across the stove, and so much more. You winced at the sight.

“What the hell is this?” came a gruff voice.

Your gaze drew to the doorway with a sharp intake of breath. Dean was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a bewildered expression on his face.

The man had a thing about people in “his kitchen.” You got ready to placate him with your hands raised as you took a step towards him, but then you gasped.

“Shit!” you yelped, slipping in some egg that had dropped on the floor. Your hand accidentally banged the oven on the way down, but your head also hit the corner of the wall.   

You ended up sprawled on your side across the dirty floor, dazed and winded. Dean hurried to your side with one of those frowns that always made you want to smooth the wrinkle between his brows.

He braced your shoulder, almost but not quite touching your hip with his free hand.

“Damn. You okay? This ain’t a slip n’ slide,” he said.

Your lips twitched at a smile, but you sighed. “I’m okay.”

“You hit your head?” he asked, beginning to help you up slowly.

“A little,” you admitted. “Nothing the old bag of frozen carrots in the freezer won’t cure.”

Dean grimaced, but after he made sure you were settled on your feet, he checked the back of your head. You tried not to blush (and revel) at the feeling of his fingers slipping into your hair, even if he was trying to feel for a knot back there.

He was close enough that you could almost feel his body heat through the black shirt he wore, for once without the outer layer of plaid. He smelled like grease and sweat; likely he’d been working on Baby.

Were you weird for kind of liking that smell?

“Well, I don’t feel any goose eggs, so you’re probably fine,” he remarked.

“Thanks, House. Is that your final prognosis?” you asked, beginning to smirk.

Dean’s gaze met yours in amusement.

“Tell you what,” he said, “If you get a headache, I give you full permission to take one of the fun little pills I’ve got in my dresser.”

You laughed. “If it’s not Vicodin, I don’t want it.”

House M.D. was one of those shows you and Dean liked to watch together, along with Game of Thrones, and even Smallville, on occasion.

Dean smiled slightly. But even that was a small feat, and something you hadn’t seen from him in weeks. Not a real smile, anyway. Before today, nothing you’d tried had been working to brighten his mood.

Not pizza Fridays. Not letting him listen to the same damn Zeppelin album without complaint for that eight-hour ride on the last hunt. Not trying to gouge his level of broodiness and offering to hang out, to be a listening ear if he needed it.

He still hadn’t taken you up on the last one. While that hurt, you also understood it. You understood how Dean dealt with things he didn’t want to think about, let alone talk about, even to his own brother.  

Dean now looked down on you knowingly, gesturing at the rest of the kitchen.

“You gonna tell me what you’re doing in here?” he asked.

You crossed your arms and raised your chin, a smile playing on your lips.

“What, can’t handle somebody else in your kitchen? What’re you, Gordon Ramsey?” you teased.

Dean’s brows kicked up, his lips twitching.

“You’ve made a mess of my kitchen any number of times, but I ain’t ever smelled sweet, sweet cherry coming out of that oven,” he said. “You’re finally making me pie?”

You had to laugh. Inside, you were pleased that he now looked excited, his green eyes dancing. You clapped your hands over his arms.

“Yes, I’m making you your damn pie. Only took me fifteen tries, but it’s happening,” you said. You turned to check on it, but the second you opened the oven, black smoke billowed out.

Your eyes widened in horror and your mouth fell open on reflex, but harsh coughs tore from your throat as you waved your hand against the smoke. Dean quickly handed you the oven mitts, and you shoved them on before taking out the steaming dessert.

The entire top crust was scorched black. Cherry filling oozed out, and not in a good way. You slammed the oven shut with your hip, and you had to toss the pan onto the counter for how hot it was.

Inside that pan was a dreadful excuse for a pie.

Dean had an arm crossed under his elbow, while a hand came up to cover his mouth as he took in the state of it. He then looked over at you.

He saw the shock, settling into pursed lips and tight shoulders. You turned in slow movements.

You saw that the oven had been switched to “Broil” on the highest setting. You’d probably messed that up when you fell and hit the dial with your hand. But Christ, was that a powerful oven.

Those old white guys really didn't mess around when they built this damn bunker, you thought sourly.

Dean took another look at the steaming pie and grimaced, despite his amusement.

“Well, she won’t be entering any beauty pageants, that’s for sure,” he teased.

His playful smirk fell, however, the moment you turned around. He saw the way you were biting your lip, and the tears brimming in your eyes.

He softened, and he went to you.

“Aww, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he chuckled, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “‘S probably better than I could do.”

You rested your head against his chest and sniffled. You blinked to try to stem off your tears. 

“It’s not about the damn pie! I mean, not really. It’s just…” you trailed.

You quieted, realizing you were about to say things you’d rather not.

Dean noticed though. Because of course he did.

“Then what’s it about?” he asked.

You avoided his gaze at first, though he was too perceptive not to notice. He jostled you a little against his side.

“Huh? You wanna answer me?” he asked. His lips curved at the way you were fighting a smile yourself. Your tears won out though.

You turned under his arm and leaned up on your toes, so you could hug him. Your arms twined around his neck and you held him tight.

To say it surprised Dean would be an understatement, his eyes widening a fraction. He still held you back, almost on reflex.

“I couldn’t do anything else,” you said, through tears. “Not for you, or Sam…or for Mary.”

Dean’s confusion descended into grim understanding. A weight fell deep in his gut, clenching painfully the way it always did, when he thought about his mom.

The fact that Jack didn’t have his soul didn’t make a difference, no matter what Sam said. Not in Dean’s mind, anyway.

Jack had killed their mom.

She was gone, had been taken from them. And that second loss had torn a new chasm in Dean’s heart, deeper than the last one. He held you a bit tighter without realizing it.

“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing his back. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to…to do something for you.”

Slowly, Dean pulled away a little. His hands moved to your waist as he looked down on you with a heaviness in his eyes. For a moment, he just took in the contours of your face, your eyes shining with tears that clung to your lashes. You were looking up at him like all you wanted to do was fix it. And fix him.

Well, you had to know that was a lost fucking cause. But it just didn’t stop you from staying here with him and Sam, living with them, hunting with them, being one of the last friends they had, after all these years.

It didn’t stop Dean from loving you for it, either.

He let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but raise a hand to get some of the flour off your cheek. He smoothed the back of his hand against your skin, along your jaw, and finally brushed his thumb across your lower lip, where you had worried it with your teeth.

“You’re too damn much, you know that?” he murmured.

You were blushing hot at his touch, but you frowned at his words. Until you noticed the fond glint in his eyes…and for the first time, something more. Something he was finally allowing you to see.

When he bent down and claimed your lips, your thoughts stuttered to a halt. You gripped the front of his shirt instinctively. He framed your face with his hands; they were calloused and smelled like motor oil, but you didn’t give a shit. Not one iota. Because it meant something, and your heart swelled with a warmer, brighter feeling.

You gripped his shirt tighter and leaned up to meet his second kiss. His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You grabbed onto his shoulders and let him invade your mouth with his warm tongue slipping against yours. You moaned, the sound echoing between you both and shooting right to his dick.

His brows furrowing, Dean’s fingers slipped into your hair again, but this time, to tangle in the strands. He walked you back until your ass hit the counter, where he grabbed hold of your thighs and hefted you on top of it, regardless of whatever stains covered its surface.

He moved in between your jean-clad thighs and encouraged you wordlessly to wrap them around his hips. You didn’t need much encouragement.

“Dean,” you whispered, between heated kisses, hands wandering down your body, exploring soft curves and warmth over clothing.

“Hmm?” he said, into your mouth. It was distracting, but you found the strength to slow things down, gently taking his face into your hands.

You both caught your breath for a moment. It allowed Dean to see the thread of uncertainty in your gaze, even though you caressed his stubble-covered cheeks.

“I just…do you…is this…” you tried, but your brain seemed to be on a short fuse. You blamed his sinful lips entirely.

Said lips drew into a smirk. Dean’s hands moved up your thighs and held your waist less gripping, more comforting (and claiming).

“I really do, and damn straight it is,” he said, slightly teasing. He did lean back in to press a gentler kiss to your lips.

“Trust me,” he said, as he became more serious. “If you want more from this…”

At that, your uncertainty melted into warmth. You released his face, holding onto his shoulders instead.

“Yeah, Dean,” you nodded. “More than anything, yes.”

He read your sincerity, and it warmed him too. Again, he gave into the urge to brush his thumb against your blushing cheek.

“I uh…I had a feeling it was always gonna be you,” he said.

You raised a brow at that, even though your smile threatened to unravel him further.

“Oh, yeah? How long?” you asked.

Dean pretended to think.

“Since that first batch of oatmeal cream pies,” he said, with a cheeky grin. “Pretty sure I was marked from there on out.”

And not just because he’d been imagining what you’d be like to taste, ever since.

You giggled, though you gestured with your eyes at the charred pan next to you on the counter.

“Guess I should try again on that pie. Wonder what that’ll get me,” you hedged, letting your thumb graze his neck. Dean smirked.

“All right, sure. Remind me to pick up a new fire extinguisher,” he said.

You guffawed and hit his shoulder, but he just laughed and pulled you in for another kiss.

It was sweet enough on its own.

AN: I know, I know. I'm a sap. 😂 Let me know what you thought of this pie-filled episode! 🥧 💕

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy

@wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@anticxrrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[phantomarine]

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

[toast-on-dandelioms]

I have an ask about Spider reader, what if they bonded with a symbiote like Venom ? Exept they bonded to the point its impossible to separate them without killing them both? Venom is still partially separate from reader mostly working and talking with them or taking control when reader cant. Venom knows everthing about them since there i readers head.

Ok that's a great question!

I think at first Spider would be tired of Venom and try everything to get rid of him before getting used to a companion that doesn't have to be kept in the dark about their vigilante job and also their family problems.

They wouldn't tell anyone, but Alfred would obviously find out and just make sure they're ok before making his plan faster of getting the family to notice them.

If we take in consideration the original timeline that I am following at the moment, Superman would probably be the first person you would tell after months of knowing him and trusting him enough.

But when the Batfam will find out? Well I'm gonna make an example for how they would find out. (And also a small spoiler for the next part)

Ok so Spider is 'working' with Superman sometimes since Gotham's streets are relatively safe and they decide to follow Superman to a mission where they thought they were gonna work alone with Superman again and instead find Batman and Damian waiting for you two.

The mission consists of defeating a rising villain that is making weapons for big villains around the world, and while in the evil lair after defeating the villain, Batman almosts get stabbed by a machine set off by Superman.

But Spider decides to help him and saves him, getting stabbed in the process and making Venom heal them slowly and not immediately since they didn't want Batman to ask questions.

But Spider is still bleeding with a grave wound, which sends everyone in a panic.

So Batman sends Superman with you to the Batcave to get healed while Batman and Damian will make sure the villain will get what he deserves for hurting Spider. (Since Batfam is already a bit yandere for Spider but do not know their real identity)

At the Batcave Spider gets treated a bit after managing to give them some sedatives to make them calm down, which makes Venom come out to defend Spider.

And Alfred decides to make the drastic decision to reveal who Spider is, tired of seeing the Batfam treating them horribly while almost idolising and loving Spider which is the same person.

And Venom insults them with telling everything Spider thinks of them, all the pain, injuries and thoughts they had to make the Batfam feel even worse and Superman more of a yandere than he already was.

So the Batfam becomes even more, not sure the right terminology, yandere for Spider and wants to make it right, promising Venom to make it right and wanting to give Spider all the love they couldn't receive the first years in the Manor.

Venom, sadly, gets manipulated by everyone and promises to not say anything to Spider and helping them a bit since Venom also wants the best for Spider.

The story would continue with Spider getting imprisoned in the Manor, with their powers weak thanks to Venom, making them desperate and also weirded out by the sudden attention of everyone.

And after a while, with everyone manipulating them and suffocating them with their love will eventually lead to Stockholm Syndrome.

And that's the end of it! I will probably reblog it if I find anything wrong that I didn't notice! Thanks for the ask!

For the divider you can go to @saradika-graphics, she does this and takes requests!