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maskedinfinate · 4 months

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hehe um ok ! since you asked so politely

this is um. corrin. an oc for that undertale post-neutral run au i posted about a few days back. They're a captain of a place called the Riverbed, my own fanmade area which is sorta above waterfall. It's the highest point of the underground and is basically where all the water FALLS from. into. waterfall. wow. amazing. Corrin wants to act intimidating he wants to act like a bigger "threat" than he already kind of is, because hes had to experience a lot of people treating him like he didnt know a thing about what he was talking about when he was CLEARLY experienced, but wasnt listened to because he looked the youngest, and young = stupid apparently. So he tends to hide his face, because he really just. hates that. Corrin is also a type of water monster that can mainly only survive in waterfall, in places like hotland (or i dunno the DUNES) he is at risk of evapporating very quickly and straight up DYING. btw :3 i'll add kind of a lighting round of facts abt them that arent really mega important but if you want more to chew on then like ok here (THIS IS "do you like the colour of the sky?" LEVEL LONG READ MORE AT YOUR OWN RISK)

I'll start from when he was a babey up until like present time in my au i guess

Corrin was born in the riverbed area, while its not very populated due to having more water than land, he and his family thrived. His mother used to be a captain too, but she quit sailing to raise him. He got incredibly attached to all the stories she told about her experiences with sailing, and wanted to do just that when he grew up.

When he was a teen he needed to earn enough money to be a personal student for a well trained sailor, because there arent many schools in the underground to begin with so education regarding specific things like sailing, art, etc, have to be exercised by a personal trainer.

To get that money for about a year he worked at a daycare in snowdin, which was far from home but worth it. Working with vastly different kids who were learning all about their enviornment taught Corrin how to properly handle a large group of people all at once in a calm and content manner.

Once he had enough money he got to study. woohoo! then he got to sail! yippee! he got himself a crew, a good boat, and everything.

Corrin and his crew's main goal for sailing is to help other monsters. Sometimes monsters can get stuck in waterfall, or even get lost, maybe even be trapped under the riverbeds waves, and thats where they swoop in to help. They actually managed to help a few royal guards who were in danger at some point, which garnered them a bit more attention. Corrin was gifted a harpoon by undyne as thanks for he and his crews effort into helping the royal guard, and he uses said harpoon to fire at shit with a harpoon gun :3 ok so. this is the part where corrin meets star ok. get ready ig.

Sometimes, monsters from that little home area of waterfall get lost and need a ride back with the boat. But sailing there is of course safer, but takes a long time due to a bunch of twists and turns needing to be taken. So corrin and their crew thought of a plan. They'd scope out a sort of shortcut to get to that home area faster so monsters wouldnt have to wait so long. As they were testing their theory the waters were extremely uncooperative, but Corrin got reckless. He took a wrong turn and they ended up crashing and he went overboard. Corrin sorta. floated away. half drowning, half not, just kinda out of it. Since the riverbed is the highest point of the underground, he ended up falling! many times! and much like a certain lil human guy ended up crashing into one of the mines in the dunes. The dunes, being a very hot area, is NOT suited at all for corrin. He can die there if going without water for at most 3 days. So corrin seeked refuge and for help to get back to waterfall or for someone to just. idk. give him water. Unfortunately he was attacked ! uh oh! From his looks alone corrin does NOT at ALL look like hes from the dunes and is an easy target, yknow. Corrin fought back though as he does have a weapon, a fucking harpoon gun, but as he did so he was caught in the act at the worst second. in rolls the fuckin feisty five, despite knowing how serious the situation is they were like "nah lets keep this up for the roleplay" "we might die" "no" sooooo corrin got locked up in jail! He was able to explain his situation about how hes a water monster and will die within days if hes kept in that cell, so they come up with a compromise. If corrin helps them out around the wild east, THEY can help him get back to waterfall AND give him water ! And yea. then he and star get mega gay and homosexual. wow. corrin actually forms a bit of a rivalry between the five because he doesnt enjoy being bossed around, but he kind of has to or he might die yknow. dont feel like giving all the juicy details but eventually he and star get a bit close and yeeeaaaaaa but then they help corrin back to waterfall, but he and star stay in touch. through letters ! Corrin keeps every letter he gets from star btw in a special little box. because he likes stars awful handwriting

Eventually though when frisk rolls around, and kills asgore (canon to my au) Corrin is fucking. Furious. He has lost all hope. He as well as entire monsterkind has lost their freedom to a CHILD. Blinded by rage he begins taking out all his anger out on humanity, which, to Star, who KNEW clover and LOVED them like family because of how incredibly kind they were, takes great offense to that. Corrin and Star have to temporarily take a break from eachother so that Corrin can work on his issues regarding humanity, having to realize frisk didnt have much of a choice. It was either them or asgore. And they're a child. Who might not be able to process or understand the weight they carried on their shoulders.

Once Corrin comes to terms with that, and calms down, he and Star are back together and are happy :3

Though, then Palila enters !!! (another oc for the au, the player char) and. Corrin is hesitant. Palila sneaked onto their ship to be able to go from one place to another much quicker, but in turn, Corrin has no idea how to handle them. Corrin doesnt know what to do, all hes ever learnt was to fight or get someone off of the ship immediately if possible. But Palila is a child. A HUMAN child. He doesnt want to fight them, not after all the time he spent collecting himself and trying to berid of all his hatred for humanity and what they've done to monsters, but he's forced into a situation where he HAS to fight because someone is TRESSPASSING on their property. He first sends Palila to Time-out (those daycare instincts kicking in) but once they escape he cant really do anything but fight.

Once hes spared though, he makes a compromise with Palila too. They can stay on his ship whenever they need to and wherever they want to go (like sorta the riverperson) but they must ask or inform someone on deck before doing so. and now hes a dad :3 So yeah thats basically all of it in like a very bitcrushed summary i didnt want this to get too long but whoops. If you're reading this, you're cool. If you read EVERYTHING? you're insane, love that for you. thank you.

#oc #my art #my oc #undertale #undertale au #tagging this as undertale yellow wouldnt fully fit i dont wanna tagspam #we'll leave it at that #oh right and uh #oc x canon #lorreeeeee

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kineticpenguin · 13 days

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One thing that's really wild to me about how you see people breaking down the exploitation of labor and a hundred liberals will be like "nah that's not how business works it's totally fair"

And then there'll be all the wannabe alpha male finance bros out there and they're like "listen, instead of earning 100% of my income from my own efforts like a sucker, I'd rather do the smart thing and earn 1% off the efforts of 100 people," essentially agreeing with the original criticism of labor exploitation. Only they at least admit "I want to be the exploiter, not the exploited, so I can sit on my ass and get money for nothing."

And the thing is, that's where the whole Protestant worth ethic/American Dream angle of capitalism falls apart: you basically admit that you have no wish to labor indefinitely even if the yolk is light and there are rewards; you wish to join a class of people who do not have to work for a living at all. You believe that such a class should exist. You believe that you should be able to join that class because you believe you're capable of passing some arbitrary test that makes you fit to be one of them. Whether it's Smart Investing, selling enough Amway or working two and a half jobs, you are going to Earn that life, whereas someone who simply is physically or mentally incapable of labor deserves to starve. Well, maybe some people are so badly off that they should get some assistance, but not comfortably! And they better not be doing any drugs! I'd rather spend billions on testing than waste one red cent on a junkie getting a free can of beans!

I dunno where I'm going with this, really. I'm just so tired of this nonsense.

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dufrau · 1 year

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Fuck you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about "we've been dating since third grade" alternate universe ronance ever since i read crocodiles. How dare you put that ADORABLE IMAGE IN MY HEAD.

Hey fuck you too! Just kidding.

But.

Imagine tiny third grade Robin with her skinned knees and the kind of handwriting you have when you have no attention span and lose interest halfway through each letter concentrating as hard as possible on neatly writing "be my valentine?" on the construction paper heart she took extra special care to cut out perfectly (it is hardly perfect, but its the best she could do) for Nancy Wheeler, who likes her freckles and is the prettiest girl Robin has ever seen, and then getting halfway through the word "valentine" and screwing it up, and then she thinks about tearing it up, about starting over or just giving up on the whole project, but she put so much work into cutting out the heart just so and she knows Nancy will have a Valentine for her because she always does and she would never want to hurt her feelings, so she covers up her mistake with her favorite cat sticker, because Nancy reminds her of cats and Nancy is worth her favorite sticker.

Imagine third grade Nancy who has already punched a boy in the face for making fun of Robin's messy homemade valentines asking Robin "Hey, what does it say under the sticker?" and seeing Robin's freckled cheeks blush as she tries to explain in her roundabout way, and she tells every detail of it because in third grade she was even more rambly, and realizing how much effort Robin had put into these valentines that Nancy sincerely loves, and her going over and punching that kid again for good measure. And they're in third grade, they're not actually *dating* because they are babies and none of that really makes any sense to either of them, but they *are* each others' valentines, and they become each others' friends from that day on, and they keep giving each other valentines until it *does* start to make sense.

I dunno. Imagine that.

(Crocodiles)

#asks #if we were crocodiles #ronance #ronance fic

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coffee-in-veins · 1 month

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Just curious here, what's the point of sharing links of pillowfort in Tumblr if it's not visible for those without an account?

hello hello o/

thank you for the ask, especially such a relevant one

i mentioned before, but i don't like leaving my things unlocked after the ai craze had started. my ao3 is locked for user-only too, and i know it cut off a sizeable portion of my audience (which is always a shame and a downer), but i'm not willing to back down on this one. some people reached out to me because they were interested in seeing what i had to offer, and i've sent them invitation links to ao3. now, they're quite avid users, there.

this is more of the same. i'm more than willing to share invitation links to pf, right now i have 50 to spare, and will be able to give more with time - if there will be a demand for even 50, in all honesty. if people want to check what's in the link, it's a rather easy fix.

said fix would require some effort on the reader's part, no denying that, but if they can't spare three clicks to see artists who are unwilling to budge on this ai shitfest and are moving elsewhere... well. then i won't be the one to blame for the lack of trying, here. i've offered ways how to find me and solutions on how to reach me. and based on how the poll is going, some were only here for reblogs. which is fine, too, in all honesty. i get it that writing is far less clickable than art, for example.

i understand that not all would bother. i accept it. considering that some people won't budge and i don't want to feed tumblr ai, i guess there's no way around it. which is a shame, really. a real shame. i finally started feeling like this place was worth the effort, started recognizing people who left hearts and did reblogs. it would be disheartening to leave it all behind. but i cannot stay here in good conscience. that's why i was trying to offer compromises, started that poll, tried to ask how people saw the way forward and am trying to see how can i make this transition as painless as possible.

i understand that uprooting your whole online presence is hard. it's grueling, it's disheartening and demotivating. i understand that the sunk cost falacy is one hell of a beast to battle. but i can't stay. all i can if offer a way to follow or at least keep in touch. to take this route or not is decision for each and every follower i have. or maybe even had, considering my vocal stance on not continuing here. maybe i'm more used to it after burning bridges with most if not all of the ru-related part of the web. maybe i have less to lose. maybe my roots here turned out much feebler than i thought. i dunno. heh. this turned out in a rant, didn't it? sorry about that.

well, then...

tl; dr: i offer invites to pf to anyone willing to spend 2 minutes and a burner email to register if they don't want to create a proper acc for pf so they can see new things i have to offer

#my shoebox of letters #fuck ai i’m not posting here || pillowfort

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blasphemecel · 1 year

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hi, i would like to request a funny romantic grimmjow oneshot if that’s okay, thank you.

i really enjoy reading your grimmjow oneshots they’re so funny.

It is not often that the likes of Yammy, Ulquiorra and Aaroniero to rendezvous anywhere together. Well, Yammy and Ulquiorra sometimes get paired on missions (and really, there's no one else among the ranks Yammy gets close to tolerating), but Aaroniero? No one ever wants to hang out with him. But allegedly what Yammy had seen was so terrifying, he needed to gather anyone willing to listen to him.

On the off chance he has a real, grounded concern, Ulquiorra asks, "What is it?"

Yammy points ahead.

"It's just Grimmjow and that shinigami," both of Aaroniero's voices say, unamused as the likelihood of this being a waste of time is getting higher.

Ah yes, one of the many kidnappees roaming Hueco Mundo. Sometimes Yammy wonders if Aizen really is that bored. Though, unlike the ginger woman, you don't seem to value friendship or other similar sentiments as much, nor are you under the unyielding impression someone will come save you in the nick of time. It is a given you're a questionable character, though, considering you apparently served under the ever-sneering Gin Ichimaru before all this. It's almost like you're in kahoots with him for a nefarious purpose outside the scope of Lord Aizen's knowledge, but that would be ridiculous... Of course.

Then again, Yammy must be really desperate for entertainment to be looking into this at all.

Ulquiorra almost turns around to leave.

"Aaroniero, look at them you stupid creature!" Yammy says, clearly irked. "They're weird."

The other two stare on ahead vacantly. "Weird, how?" Aaroniero asks after not gathering anything of value with his blatant staring. On a good day he would've put Yammy in his place for such an insolent comment, but right now it appears the Tenth Espada's minimal attention span is focused on another topic, and so the effort is not worth it.

Sure, he supposes it is strange that you're conversing with Grimmjow at all, or that Grimmjow hasn't found an excuse to kill you considering you appear to be bickering with him. Is it not proper hostage etiquette to keep from getting chatty with someone involved in your misfortune? And even worse, why is Grimmjow entertaining you? Ulquoirra is a stickler when it comes to his 'bad evil guy' duties, and Aaroniero would've expected Grimmjow to try to outdo him as usual.

"No idea." Yammy scratches under his lip like he's deep in thought. "It seems wrong, but I dunno why. So I thought I'd investigate."

"And is this investigation in the room with us right now?" asks Aaroniero again, taking into account they haven't made any progress on the case at all. And Ulquoirra is kind of just creepily standing between them with this unreadable sort of look on his face that could give even Barragan the creeps.

Yammy huffs and strains. Aaroniero is unsure if he's on the brink of shitting himself or if thinking causes him physical pain, though again they all find themselves focused on you and Grimmjow, and the way you're interacting with each other.

Up until now it appeared to be some ridiculous, prolonged argument. Again, what confused Yammy is that Grimmjow made no attempt to smite you or otherwise hurt you over it. You nudge him with your elbow and Grimmjow shoves you harder, in a way that's challenging but not particularly combative. Then you laugh and make a weird face as you say something which appears to catch him off-guard.

Okay, Aaroniero decides, maybe Yammy was right for once in his miserable life. This really is odd.

Taking the opportunity, you pull him closer and press your lips against his cheek. That makes his skin flush before he yells a barrage of choice words at you ― many of which put your sanity into question, and they can make out his curses even from a distance ― until you run away, laughing some more. Once you're out of view, Grimmjow exhibits behavior that is very strange. And concerning.

He lets his fists rest in his pockets and grins in a way that's not wide or sharp or murderous, staring at the spot you'd been standing in seconds before, something unbelievably vulnerable about him. Hollows don't blush and Hollows definitely aren't wired to gawk after the object of their affection like fools once they turn their backs like they're shy. This is all... unnatural.

Wait. Yeah, Grimmjow isn't supposed to have an 'object' of 'affection' at all.

At last Ulquiorra's thorough examination of the blank wall in front of him seems to pay off because he says, "That's inappropriate," in a flat tone. Then Ulquiorra rustles to move like he's about to make his way there and scold Grimmjow over his visible unprofessionalism towards you. (As stated earlier, he takes his current occupation of 'creepy abductor' very seriously, and you're not exactly being a 'traumatized victim' either. Maybe he should have a word with you as well, and maybe with his constructive criticism it'll come to your attention that you're supposed to be upset, not flirty.)

He is the most overt choice when it comes to recognizing what is going on, between the three of them. In the moment Grimmjow is acting the way Orihime does whenever Ichigo Kurosaki is involved, to the point Ulquiorra finds it quite obvious when he so much as crosses her mind. Emotion ― such a feeble, weak thing. If he was capable of it, or even if he cared about Grimmjow in any capacity, he would've said he's disappointed by his weak-mindedness.

"Ha! Does little Grimmy have a crush?" the deeper voice of Aaroniero says, thoroughly amused by the stupidity he just witnessed, while the higher-pitched one says, "...I wish someone liked us instead."

Sometimes what he wishes is for his other half to keep quiet. And when he says sometimes, he means all the time.

The illness seems to be spreading because Yammy then goes on to cross his arms and pout like this turn of events affects him on a personal level. Ulquiorra raises a pointed eyebrow at the reaction, mouth still set into a tight line. "Could it be that you secretly desire companionship?"

Yammy flails his hands around before saying, "Shut up! I'll pummel you!" like that'll convince anyone Ulquiorra's deduction had been wrong. As if. Inconsiderate brute like him.

Before a brawl can break out, Grimmjow approaches them with a much more feral expression on his face. Certainly he hadn't looked at you with such thirst for blood at all. "What are you idiots yelling about?" Then, he allows himself a wild laugh before turning a corner and disappearing as unceremoniously as he had appeared. "God, I hate you all."

There is... a moment of silence. It might not be calm, but it's definitely silent, a stalemate.

Aaroniero offers, "At least he never changes?"

Needless to say, it doesn't help.

___

LOL sorry if this isn't good I tried to come up with something that would be both cute and funny but romance is not my strong point so I try to emphasize the 'funny'. I kinda feel like Yammy and Aaroniero are half-out of character but it was for the sake of comedy which I allow myself

#grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader #grimmjow x reader #grimmjow imagine #bleach x reader #bleach imagine #bleach x you #drabble

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starpirateee · 5 months

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I want to see the show

@lautski-week day 4 - Fireworks

Warnings: none / read on AO3 here

"They're running a fireworks display down at the docks!" Pete came running up to his friends, a flyer in his hand. They never did anything interesting enough in Hatchetfield, not enough to worth noting, anyway. So this was exciting.

Richie's eyes lit up. "When?"

"At the weekend! I might go, y'know? You guys coming with?"

"I'm down!"

"Me too!" Ruth grinned, grabbing the flyer when Pete offered it out. She and Richie looked it over together, committing the date, time and location to memory as best as they could.

While they were occupying themselves with that, Pete glanced over to Steph to see if she would be joining him. He swore she looked nervous, but he didn't want to find himself mistaken. She met his eye, and then immediately went to find the flyer with a rapid glance. He tried to get anything else off her, but it was as if any nervousness she did hold, she was hiding.

That wasn't brought up again until they were all walking home. Pete deliberately hung back and eventually managed to get Steph to do the same. "So... Are you gonna be there?"

"I dunno, Pete..."

"This about your dad?"

"No, it's just-" She glanced ahead, to see whether Ruth and Richie were paying attention. When she found out they weren't, she sighed. "I don't do too well with... y'know, loud noises and stuff..."

For a moment, Pete tried to recall what music he remembered Steph listening to. She tended to prefer the kind with guitar heavy backgrounds, didn't she? And there'd been more than one occasion where he thought he could hear what she was listening to through her headphones. "Really?"

As if she'd read his mind, she added, "yeah, most people don't really think about it, cos I like rock, but y'know, I can manage that. It's different with music."

He nodded as if he understood. In a way, he sort of did. Having control over something always felt better than not being able to manage it and feeling overwhelmed when it happened. On one hand, he really wanted Steph to be there, and he wanted it to be all of them, but on the other hand, the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable in any capacity. And that had to include taking into account the fact that she couldn't deal with loud environments.

"I know it's weird, it's a weird mix."

"No, no I know what you mean. You don't actually have the music loud if you don't feel like it, but fireworks come in one volume and... That's kinda it."

She hummed, almost apologetic. Pete wanted to reassure her that she had nothing to apologise for. "I guess it'd be fine if we were further away, but the docks isn't exactly a large place, and I don't think I'd be able to get back far enough..."

"It's okay-"

"I wanna go, Pete, I do! I like hanging out with you guys."

Suddenly, Pete had an idea. He smiled slightly, and reached for her hand. "If we can make it work, would you come?"

"If you can make it work?"

"Just trust me!"

Steph was the first to leave the group on the way back home. Pete caught up with Ruth and Richie, going over his idea in his head to make sure it didn't sound like complete bullshit when he said it out loud. She liked hanging out with them... So, he had to make an effort to make it worth it. If she wanted to hang out with them, they could totally make this work!

"Hey, guys, can I ask you something?"

Ruth slowed her pace, and glanced up at Pete. She could see that his mind was starting to race, and before he started going too fast, she nodded, wanting to let him get his ideas out. "Okay.. Sure, what d'you wanna ask?"

"I dunno whether I should be telling you guys this, it's not really my business, but it's about Steph. She wants to come at the weekend, but she's not really good at dealing with loud spaces, if you know what I mean... So, I was wondering, could we get somewhere we could still see the docks from, so she could still come and we could still see the fireworks?"

He fully rejoined their little gathering. Richie looked a little surprised at the news, but he was thinking about it too, if not to try and figure out a place where both of those things could happen at the same time. It was very obvious that Pete liked Steph, and maybe it was the other way around too. He knew that he was certainly warming up to her, she was really nice when she wasn't hanging around the other cool kids...

"So, somewhere high up, where we could still see the docks, but maybe far enough that we can't hear them so well?"

"Exactly!"

"You're really thoughtful, you know that? That's real sweet..." He smiled over at Pete, who rubbed the back of his hand and smiled back. "We can probably make that work, though, in any case."

They bounced ideas off each other for a while, crossing off places because they were too far away or the view wasn't good enough. Eventually, Pete realised something that he should've realised a long time ago. "I don't know what I've been thinking, I literally live in an apartment block about a quarter mile from the docks."

"Your brother would let us use his apartment?"

"I mean, maybe not? But we could go sit on the roof. I've got a speaker, we could make a little show of it!"

"I like it! I can bring blankets, if you want!" Ruth offered eagerly. Her backpack was too large at the best of times, there was definitely a chance that she could squeeze a blanket in there if she wanted.

"Blankets, huh?" Pete raised an eyebrow, but he was still smiling. "And Richie, you live close enough to the store... Could you do us a snack run on your way?"

"Sure!"

So, it was decided. As soon as Pete got home, he called Steph and updated her on everything the three of them had laid out in the course of their journey home. She had to pretend to be totally chill about it, but on the inside, her heart was doing somersalts. She couldn't believe that Pete would consider doing something like that just so she could hang out with them too.

"You really don't have to, y'know," she'd insisted, but Pete was having none of it.

"I know, but we all want you here, and besides, it might be fun!" he'd answered, and she'd felt a little warmer at that.

The weekend rolled around. Ruth arrived at Pete's first, and he had completely lost track of the days, fully unaware that the fireworks display was tonight.

"Pete... door." Ted's knock on his bedroom door came hard as usual, and yet Pete was still startled by it every time he did it. This time was no exception.

"Huh?"

"One of your friends, the one with the braces. She said somethin' about fireworks?"

"Oh shit. That's today?"

"Y'mean the one own the docks? Didn't know you were going..."

"I'm... Not. Not really. Long story." Pete rushed out of his room and towards the front door, where Ruth was indeed waiting, just inside. So, Ted did have the liberty to let her in, then... To him, it didn't look like she'd brought the blankets as she'd said, and he considered the version of this where the two of them dragged his off his bed and up the stairs to the roof. "Uh, where's the-"

Ruth took off her backpack and unzipped the main compartment. Inside, rolled to an incredibly neat size and packed close together were not one but two blankets. Pete's eyes widened involuntarily.

"Jesus Christ, how did you do that?"

"Took everything else outta my bag and let my mom help me roll them. She's real good at stuff like that."

"They're perfect. Thanks so much! We can wait around in my room till everyone else shows up."

Ruth was first through the door. On his way in, Pete leaned out towards the kitchen and shouted, "Are you going to the fireworks?"

"Some guy at work invited us, yeah... We might be out a while, I think he's looking to get his drink on." Ted answered. "Why's yours a long story?"

"We're gonna watch them from here? On the roof."

He could almost literally hear Ted thinking that one over. It almost took him way too long to figure out that they could actually do that and make it work, too.

Just then, there was another knock at the door. Pete scrambled to get it this time, because if Ted opened the door to Steph, he'd probably refuse to believe she was even standing there waiting for Pete. As it happened, it was her. Ted was clearly in the background, trying not to make himself look like he was startled at who he saw when Pete opened the door. If he wasn't startled then, he certainly was when Pete pulled the girl into a hug that she returned.

"I still can't believe you've put this together for me," Steph couldn't help the grin spread on her face. As she and Pete parted, she glanced over his shoulder and saw his brother staring. She subtly motioned this to Pete, who turned around quickly and flushed bright red.

"Jesus CHRIST, TED!"

Ted just laughed. Mainly, that was an attempt at staving off the fact that his nerdy little brother just hugged a girl who looked that cool. God damn, were they- had Pete really scored himself a girlfriend without telling?

Pete showed Steph to his room. "Richie text a few minutes ago. He's gonna be a bit late, but we're still gonna be able to catch the fireworks. I told him half an hour earlier than I should've... He's always running late."

Steph chuckled, considering taking a seat on Pete's bedroom floor. He'd taken the office chair, and Ruth had one corner of his bed. He motioned towards the bed, clearly seeing what she was about to do, and she took a seat on the end. While the three of them were chatting, idly winding away the time, he stood up on the chair and pulled what looked like an old radio from a cardboard box on top of his shelves.

"That's your speaker?" Ruth asked in awe. "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!"

"It was an arcade prize years ago... Couple thousand tickets at Pizza Pete's, y'know how it is." He set the thing on the desk and turned it on to see if it still worked. It crackled, seemingly uncertainly, and then a light appeared on the top beside the buttons. He smiled. "God, it really won't give in, will it?"

Richie arrived within ten minutes, his bag overflowing with various snacks. That's why they'd assigned him to the snack run, he always knew how to pack the best ones... The three of them met him in the hallway, carting their various items. Ruth and Steph each had a blanket bundled under their arms, and Pete had his speaker, having made sure it was at least a little bit charged before they went. He absently yelled a goodbye towards Ted, and then led the way up the staircase towards the roof.

"He's a strange one, your brother, isn't he?" Steph commented, shooting a look towards the door as they walked away.

"I never told him I was seeing you, I think we gave him the shock of a lifetime." Pete laughed.

"You didn't tell him?"

"I haven't had the chance yet, he's been busy! Well, he definitely knows now, and if he's not too hungover tomorrow, I'm definitely gonna get asked about it."

"I still can't believe you two are official!" Ruth sighed wistfully. "Like, that's so cool!"

Neither could he. This was the best thing to ever happen to him, and he felt luckier every day to be by her side. cos she was a friend too, it was always more than a date to him. She was someone to laugh to, someone to share obscenely large buckets of popcorn with during shitty movies, someone to text at stupid hours because he was drunk and lovesick.

Well, not drunk. It was one night... And he'd only drank in the first place because he'd met people on a day out looking at colleges and they'd suggested getting to know each other over drinks. But he did end up texting her, regardless of how it was he'd ended up like that.

"You wouldn't think it was cool if I was drunk texting you at 2:30 in the morning." He muttered.

"You didn't..."

"He did. Bunch of nerds from Michigan let him come drinking with them, then he got to the hotel room and I got... it all." Steph managed a laugh. She still had the texts, though she didn't think Pete knew that. They were sweet to her, and he'd been so sincere in every word he'd written.

"You didn't get the hangover the next morning..." He defended as he pushed open the door to the roof and led the group outside.

The roof wasn't really a huge space, not compared to the inside. There was a little square of concrete that Steph presumed only covered the central staircase. In fact, the rest of the roof was just below them, but it was a fair jump down, and she didn't suspect there'd be a way back up that wasn't through someone's window. But, they really could make do with this.

She and Ruth set out the blankets, and the four of them took a seat in a direction that roughly faced the docks. She could see the lake from here, so they were definitely looking in the right direction. Really, this was a nice spot, and really was everything Pete had detailed to her on the phone. She wished she wasn't already grinning like an idiot so she could really show her appreciation for him.

He worked on connecting the speaker, and the first firework shot into the sky, exploding in a flash of red light. It wasn't long before music filled the space between the four of them, and she realised that she could barely hear the fireworks at all. "This is... It's perfect." She leaned back, letting her hands plunge into the soft fibres of the blanket underneath her. Pete grinned, reaching out for her hand.

"Glad we could help," Richie hummed, digging into his backpack for a little bag of popcorn. "He did mean it, y'know, we want you to hang out as much as possible. Not just cos it makes us look cooler-"

She laughed. "But you think it does?"

"Oh, without a doubt. You're the coolest part of any of this."

#lautski week #stephanie lauter #peter spankoffski #starkid #void offering #i am living to project audiosensitivity onto steph #its what im here for

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kygerbearr · 2 months

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what i've decided to do for this valentines day is to invite my only asexual friend who i care about very much to play video games. its basically just a normal hangout session and I am explicitly not treating it like a date because it isnt. (do not hang out with someone and pretend its a date if they did not agree to a date)

what I hope to do is essentially just create an environment and opportunity where if there is anything at all between us, it is the perfect opportunity to lay it out on the table. it is a fully take it or leave it scenario. it is not a date unless they decide they want it to be. assuming nothing at all happens I will promptly move on with my life and we will keep being nothing but friends

this is my only solution to A) how much of a coward I am, and B) how much of a coward they are. we've both talked about how we're both cowards in most aspects of life, have some amount of interest in finding a partner but don't want to bother with the process of dating. this is probably the biggest opportunity for either of us to act on that, but i'm obviously not comfortable making the first step since I don't want to put them in a situation where they'll be uncomfortable and they know that I've gone on record saying that I don't really like gender roles and don't want to be expected to make the first step just because i'm masc

if they think anything of me that's more than just friends, this is the only opportunity where all of the circumstances come together for the perfect scenario, so that's how I know they'll either act on it or don't have any kind of feelings like that towards me at all, and that'll essentially round out the closure that I've been seeking for a few years now.

truthfully, I really don't expect anything. we both have talked about how neither of us really find the appeal in what comes with a relationship, or if we'd do anything different, or if it's worth it at all. part of me thinks that just, acknowledging that we think of each other a certain way would be enough for either of us. I don't know though because they have mentioned being aro but not sure they're fully ace, and i really don't think i'm comfortable being sexually involved with anyone i care that much about (aside from just the lack of interest in participating in sex in general)

i dunno. this is just the least harmful scenario i could think of creating on the offchance that there actually is something between us, but i feel extra cowardly for not being able to commit to the action, creating excuses and even thinking about lies in order to back out of it, even if it is all in an effort to avoid causing her any trouble. it makes me feel dumb. it makes me feel stupid. i don't even know what to even CALL how i feel towards her. it's not any description of love that I've heard before, i'm not obsessed and she's not on my mind 24/7, but if I had to pick a person I care about the most and would do (almost) anything for, it would be her. so obviously that's too much for me to ignore and this is the only compromise that fits the criteria of being harmless enough while still allowing it to play out.

the more i think about it the more i feel stupid and annoyed with myself so i'm cutting this post off here. not like it will make a difference when 2/15 rolls around because that door will be closing forever so I ensure I don't waste any more energy. i'll just get a gay furry boyfriend and call it a day. i think i'll also feel a lot more comfortable being friends with her once I drop the guilt of fathoming a reality where we're anything more than that so realistically tomorrow will go great either way and we'll all be able to move on, i just needed to get it off my chest so i can actually sleep tonight

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utilitycaster · 2 years

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Hi, different anon- while I’m not sure I agree with you about otohan being a boring villain, I am really interested in your railroading take. Is…I dunno, mechanical railroading a thing? From an encounter design standpoint? The thing I keep coming back to is that 200+foot per round move, plus teleports and psionic leap. That’s not an encounter you can run from without big conjuration spells. 60-odd damage a round? Not a good place at level 7. What was supposed to happen, dyou think?

Hi anon! If you don't mind, I'm going to package my answer to this with a response to this really good comment from @hexagonalpeg and then I'm going to go do some work for a while.

So for what it's worth Otohan is mechanically quite interesting, and purely from a mechanical standpoint, I'd love to see a combat like that at like level 15 or something. I just found her to have no discernable personality other than GOOD EMBRACE THE DARKNESS and like, that's boring as shit to me. I don't know why she feels this and I don't care. But that's an aside.

Mechanical railroading is kind of a thing in that you absolutely can have a battle that was always intended to be virtually unwinnable. It's something Matt has done very well in the Chroma Conclave initial attacks in which the dragons were clearly stated to have a sky-high AC, and with the first fight against the Tomb Takers in Campaign 2. It's a good way to impress upon the party how strong the enemy is and give them clues on how to counteract them in the future.

Here's the problem: if you have an unwinnable (or near-unwinnable) fight, you need to have a not terribly difficult way to stop it. You can have this by having the enemy say "not worth it" or be called away before destroying everyone (Chroma Conclave); you can make running away possible (Tomb Takers); or you can convince the enemy to stand down, either by giving them what they want or showing you're not a threat, which often overlaps with the enemy deciding it's not worth the effort.

Alternately, you can have a TPK. If you are having a TPK on purpose, that is in fact valid (especially if there's going to be some group vision/turn back the clock/alternate future stuff)...but you need to make it fast. You don't draw it out.

This combat had one very specific answer reliant on only one party member in an incredibly high pressure situation in which every other thing tried had failed. Half the party is down, everyone's in single digits and low on resources, Otohan is killing her best friend, and here's the other thing. Imogen's backstory, and Laura has said as much both in and out of game, is that she feels like going into the storm means dying. Most of Imogen's meaningful conversations have been about fighting her power or learning about it but never, ever giving in. It feels entirely in character, to me, for her to resist it to the very end and ultimately have to be forced into giving in...and that's not good if the answer to the puzzle is "give in."

I think another really important factor is that the narrative leading up to this fight seemed, at least from my perspective as a D&D player, and I'd guess the cast's perspective, a slam dunk. They need to get Treshi, a plot that has already been dragging on for quite some time. They're finally in. They were planning on taking some time to get the lay of the land and call the skyship but oh look, here's a seemingly golden opportunity of a distraction, inclement weather to hide your way, and a tentative ally in this quest! Of course they'd seize it.

So anyway I think the ending - of Imogen giving in, and whatever is going to happen with the white light and everything stopping - is exactly what was intended to happen, but I think that the setup was absolutely not there for anyone to realize this, and that's a pretty significant DM-ing misstep in my eyes. It doesn't mean the story on the whole can't recover, but this just seems clumsy.

#cr tag #critical role spoilers

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peachjuiceretriever · 4 months

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exhales thru my nose. i really needed to put these feelings SOMEWHERE and i apolgoize. please ignore i am venting this is a vent post i repeat this is a personal vent post. you are not obligated to read.

SIGHS... i dunno. it fuckin. it wasnt even just he was nice and sweet i felt so comfortable sharing my kinks with him and he was literally open to anything and that was so nice... sex is very important to me in a relationship so having someone who was just as adventurous as me... and he thought everything i did was cute... called me cute all the time... even when he came to visit and saw me completely naked in real life... he saw every inch of my body and he didnt just continue to love me it felt like he loved me even more... it felt like once he saw me that was when he knew i was the one... at least... thats what it felt like to me... thats how i felt... he was always so interested in everything i had to say, so excited for every opportunity i had to grow.. ughhh i fucking!!! bangs my head on a wall. why did you do this to me... i remember expressing to you how scared i was that you'd choose someone else, that someone else would catch your eye and you'd look back at me and realize im not worth it- the time, the effort, the energy it takes to love me... and you told me "why would i ever do that? they're not you" and i fucking believed you!!!!!!! and we... we fucking planned !! on moving in together!!! i was genuinely ok with moving to a different state, starting a new life just for you because you had stuff already established down there!!! and now i....

i hate the way i want to be loved. how fucking selfish of me to want someone to hold my hand to go through journeys with me... i hate being a traumatized child in an adult body. the way my parents set me up for failure... i hate how i went through therapy and thought i had all of this under control now... the fact that my brain can go "you need to love yourself, nobody can do it for you." but it doesn't take away the pain. "this too shall pass" but it doesn't soothe the ache in your throat. if you dont break the cycle it will continue to repeat itself this feeling is only temporary it is what it is and you can't change it sometimes things are bad before they get good and i know i know i know i know but it hurts now goddamn it it hurts now and it'll hurt tomorrow and the next day and every single fucking time i think about the airport, or his state is mentioned on tv, or i drive by a fucking starbucks!!!!!!!!!

#vent #whooooaa this was a long one #REST ASSURED NOBODY HERE WILL CARE ITS OK U DONT HAVE TO LOOK #im literally just venting about an ex so YA #you guys can ignore i'll be normal again soon just give me time

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xxxevilfilms · 6 months

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Manhole

Info: A drug addicted Chipp has sex with a group of men in exchange for sleeping pills.

Warnings For: Prostitution, Gyaku Ryona, Noncon, Noncon Drug-Use, Magical Drugs, Male Pregnancy, Lactation, Cuntboy/Reverse Futa, Fisting.

This is another fic I made in June that became so far my most popular oneshot for GG. I dunno why, though; seems like a lot of people enjoy reverse futa. Actual fic is under the cunt--I mean cut! Viewer discretion is highly advised.

Chipp looks past people rather than at them, unwilling to see that hungry, predatory glint that old men held in their bloodshot eyes whenever he was forced to sell ass to get his fix. It wasn't a glamorous life nor was it a proud one, but it was the fastest way he could make money while bouncing between jobs. He'd rather blow some idiots for a few hundred bucks than steal all his life. A criminal record wasn't going to do him any good if he wanted a decent government job, whenever the hell that would be. Being President was a bit of a stretch, but a man could dream.

Chipp stood at his spot on the corner between 5th and 6th where all the usual whores and druggies made their rounds. A weeknight, not many tricks were around, but a curious few were driving or walking by, giving himself as well as all the other local sluts a brief look before wandering off. Chipp didn't have to do much to stand out since he was one out of a handful of guys here who were putting out, but he still made an effort to look attractive. Shorts that rode up a little too high and a wife beater that resembled more a crop top than an actual shirt contrasted nicely with his hulking physique and figure. Chipp was bound to get someone eventually.

Chipp walked across the strip for the better part of an hour until he was suddenly approached by three young men; a brunette, a blonde, and a redhead. They wasted no time huddling around Chipp and making their intentions clear to him, their youth and vigor a welcomed respite from the old, nasty men he was so used to getting.

The brunette, who was a slightly older male with brown hair and red eyes, raised a small pill bottle to Chipp's face and shook it gently. Chipp immediately recognized what it was he was holding before regarding him inquisitively. As if reading Chipp's mind, the brunette finished his thought before Chipp could blurt it out.

"I've seen you before." The stranger says. "Only stud here worth a fuck who doesn't charge too much." He pops the bottle open and takes out one pill. It's pink and round like Ambien. "I wonder why that is."

"I'm generous where it counts." Chipp forces himself to coddle up to the stranger by pressing his huge chest against his body and running his hands down the brunette's hips. His pride pleads for him to stop, but he ignores it like he always does. "Extra bottle per hour, anything you want."

"Sounds like a deal." The Brunette places the tablet on his tongue and sticks it out for Chipp to take. Chipp mindlessly obeys and guides the man's tongue into his mouth, sucking on it briefly to take the pill down his throat. The Brunette moans and his friends take turns pinching at Chipp's ass. Chipp grunts but allows it before pulling away, energized and ready for what was in store for him.

"You gotta place, or you wanna fuck out here?"

The stranger laughs and throws an arm around Chipp's shoulder. It's a little awkward since they're the same height, but it works out well enough.

"Hope you don't mind if it's a little cramped."

~~~~~~~~~

The Ambien, if it was Ambien, was stronger than he thought.

Chipp feels hot all over, his chest fluttery and cock hard as a rock. The Brunette and his friends brought him to a grubby motel room with a bed too small to fit four men. Somehow they make it work and Chipp is currently tongue fucking the Blonde while the Redhead fondles his chest from behind. The Blonde has dark roots and eyes that bleed crimson much like the stranger's, but deeper and richer in color. Chipp thinks they're pretty and grinds down on him eagerly, feeling but otherwise not paying attention to the pair of big hands that were on his chest slip through the straps of Chipp's shirt. Fingers play with his nipples, tweaking and pulling them while a tongue swipes at Chipp's ear. Chipp groans and bites down gently on the Blonde's tongue in response. The Brunette is somewhere else in the room, huddled in the corner as if looking for something. Chipp ignores him and pleasures the two men he has now as his body grows hotter.

Mind now fuzzy and cock aching for attention, Chipp attempts to voice his wants to the men but all that comes out is a garbled moan that vibrates along the Blonde's tongue. The fog in Chipp’s head gets worse soon after, but the Blonde is aware of his needs and guides him to the bed. The Redhead from behind, a cute face with playful maroon depths that match his eyes follows after them, and Chipp lets both men strip him of his shirt and shorts as the heat in his body grows feverish. Chipp furrows his brows and tries to roll on his stomach, but instead flips to his side, suddenly too weak to move. He feels a moment of panic and then nothing as his breathing grows even and his eyes flutter close.

The last thing he hears is muffled laughter and shuffling feet.

When Chipp wakes up, he finds himself still on the bed, but unable to move. He shifts and tries to will his arms to his sides, but feels metal hold his wrists back. He panics and writhes frantically against the mattress, only stopping when he notices the shadowy figures standing over him. The men, whose bloody eyes seemed to shine menacingly in the dark, regarded Chipp like freshly caught prey. Their faces remained handsome and angular, but their bodies belied the beauty they possessed on their cheeks. Hulking and brutish with bestial markings that highlighted sinewy muscle, all men had a strange sigil on their chests that glowed with their eyes. Chipp's seen these things before, but only on television and in the occasional newspaper. These men weren't men; they were fucking Gears.

Chipp shrinks back, but the Gears follow, playing with teeming, engorged cocks that can put a horse to shame. Chipp struggled once more and immediately threatened violence, gnashing teeth as the Stranger and his men crowded around him.

"Get the fuck away from me, you freaks! I swear to God, once I break out of these I'll--"

"I don’t think you're in any position to talk, babe..." The stranger laughs as he moves his hand between Chipp's leg to press it firmly into his crotch. "Your little bitch hole is calling to me right now."

Chipp cringes and jerks upwards, but yelps at what he feels. The Stranger squishes and pokes up inside Chipp, not where his asshole is, but where his dick should be. Chipp trembles and looks down, unable to rip his eyes away from what he sees.

His dick was gone.

His fucking dick was gone.

The Stranger teases him cruelly by sliding a finger against wet, squidgy muscles that sucks it in deep, guiding it to a spot inside Chipp that makes him cry out. Chipp jolts back but the Stranger's finger chases him and slides over that spot again. Chipp screams and thrashes against his restraints once more. The Stranger wasn't playing with his dick nor a gash, but a cunt . A real live, sopping wet cunt that dripped with slick and soiled his thighs. Chipp's anger was suddenly replaced with horror; what the fuck was in that pill they gave him?

"Pretty, isn't it?" The Stranger shoves two more digits inside of him that tingle his walls and makes his hole burn. "I knew a whore like you could handle it; not many guys get a pussy as nice as yours, stud. Seems pretty clear to me you're made for this."

Chipp hears the men laugh at his plight and sees the Redhead and Blonde jerk their cocks over his head, allowing Chipp to see their members up close. They were thicker than his wrists and averaged the length of his thigh with some inches to spare. Titan-sized balls were drawn up tightly against their bodies and hung like ripened fruit ready to burst. The fact that they were even entertaining the idea of fucking him with those things was insane.

"W-Why..." Chipp forces himself to speak. "Why me? You could take any bitch on that fucking strip, so why me?"

"It's real simple," The Redhead pokes Chipp's cheek with the head of his dick and smirks. "Cuz we want to."

"You stud bitches don't break as easily." The Blonde chimed in "My nuts are swelling just thinking about how you'll scream for us."

"So relax, babe, we'll take care of ya." The Stranger gives Chipp's new clit a deep rub when he sees him wince at their explanation. "We got you for the night, don't we? Don't worry, you'll get your fix; just gotta give you a pill every hour and we'll keep that cunt filled as much as you want."

Chipp growls through his teeth when the Stranger begins fingering his pussy deep and slow. He curls his fingers inward, making Chipp throw his head back and wriggle violently for some kind of mercy. The Blonde and Redhead laugh and encourage the Stranger to go further as they rub themselves all over Chipp's hair, nose, and mouth, marking him with a musk so foul it makes his head swim and cunt gush with slick. Why it did the latter, Chipp wasn't so sure, but it did nothing to calm down the rage building in his chest.

"All hot and sloppy like a good bitch should be..." The Stranger licks his lips and slides his little finger in. "Think he can take the rest of it now?"

"Gotta loosen him up for us, right?" The Redhead asks. "Punch that cunt open."

"Wait...!" Chipp's heart drops, his anxiety replacing anger. "Fucking stop, stop this shit already!"

"He was made for this..." The stranger pulls away and then pushes his hand forwards, his thumb joining the rest of his fingers to fuck his entire hand into Chipp's cunt without warning. His wrist is engulfed by warm, rippling walls of fresh muscles and nerves that makes Chipp cry and scream for the Gear to stop. His pleas fall on deaf ears, however, and the Stranger makes a fist that punches its way into Chipp's swollen womb. Chipp gasps and throws his head back as his hips buck upwards, a sudden, painful orgasm ripping through his fucked out body as fresh muscle gives way to the arm that's buried inside of him. His eyes roll and his lips part to release a broken scream that shocks him to the core. This should be hurting him, he thinks. He should be hating this, should hate how his thighs quiver and how his hole gushes with more slick. He should be trying to get out of here with whatever manhood he still had intact, but no; he just stayed put like a good slut, letting his cunt be broken in by some monsters desperate for a fuck.

Chipp barely notices a cock splitting his lips apart until he feels the engorged tip poke his tongue. He rears back, but he's pushed back down the shaft so his mouth could slide over thick turgid flesh that strains his jaw. His lips are stretched to their very limit, opened so wide he barely had enough room to breathe, but that doesn't stop whoever is trying to fuck his face to ram his pulsing length down his throat. Chipp retches violently when the offending prick reaches the front of his stomach, forcing drool to bubble in his mouth and dribble down his chin when fecund precome fills his cheeks and throat with its hot essence. His throat clogged and his nose buried deeply in a musty bush of dense hair, Chipp's face grows red from lack of air when the cock fucks his throat slow and steady, pushing spit and fluid down into his stomach as those giant balls slap loud and rough into Chipp's wet chin. The Stranger fits his arm inside, to the elbow it feels, and makes Chipp's pussy weep for more as he thrusts it hard and fast into his aching womb. Chipp feels another orgasm coming and he has to mentally brace himself for it.

"Fuck yeah, lookit that, this slut's got talent for sure," It's the Blonde's voice. "C'mon, man, quit hogging him, I want some of that, too!"

"Fine, whatever," The Redhead, holds Chipp down on his length for a moment before finally pulling out. "Bet that fuckhole is ready for a real pounding anyway."

Chipp is barely able to catch his breath as he coughs out what he was made to swallow when the Blonde grabs him by the hair and drags his massive sack over his open mouth to get him to suck. Chipp, out of his mind and out of options, does what's expected of him, and runs his wet tongue over the rougher Gear's nuts like his life depended on it before sucking at the crease that lined his skin. The Blonde lets out a breathless laugh and rocks into Chipp's mouth, making the whore squirm.

Suddenly, his pussy grows slack and the Stranger's arm slides out, a downpour of hot, sticky fluid following with it. Chipp shudders as his impending orgasm abruptly disappears, leaving his loose cunt to flutter and twitch around nothing as if begging for something so much bigger than what it got to fill its shuddering depths. The need to escape is nothing more than a suggestion that calls to him in the back of his head which annoys him greatly, and in defiance of his own emotions, Chipp drags deathly sharp canines over the flesh in his mouth in warning, but he's quickly reprimanded by the Blonde who yanks his head back by the hair.

“Do that again and I’ll knock out five of ‘em, understand?”

Chipp has no time to respond; he just feels the Gear's sack smother him again, silencing him. Chipp growls, but obeys, powerless to the demands of his captors for now. He laps and pokes the Blonde Gear's balls with messy licks of his tongues before fitting them into his mouth again. It's a hard fit that stretches his lips and cheeks to their limits, but it keeps the Blonde satisfied and spares Chipp the agony of picking up his own teeth from the floor. Sucking off the Blonde distracts Chipp enough to not notice the Stranger or Redhead manhandling him to suit their needs, sandwiching the whore between their massive, muscular bodies so they may line themselves up against Chipp's abused hole. He groans wearily around the Blonde when he feels one of them push into him with little effort, his nerves flaring and toes curling as painless, rapturous and yet shameful pleasure pulses through his cunt. The Gear then buries his cock deep into Chipp's womb, giant nuts pressed hard against the lips of his sex while the redhead follows suit and penetrates him from behind. It's such a tight fit, Chipp begins to worry he might rip, but somehow, by some miracle, he doesn't, and his cunt merely gapes open as the two Gear studs take turns pounding him in succession. One goes in as one pulls out, each taking turns battering his womb and raping his cunt like he was a living toy. Chipp's shrieks of pleasure grow louder and the Blonde takes this opportunity to lift his sack from Chipp's mouth to sheathe his dick with Chipp's hot throat instead.

Chipp coughs and can't breathe again, unable to think and unable to focus on anything but the Gears fucking his holes. His throat bulges and his belly swells with cock, rounding out hard muscle and chiseled flesh into distended, bruised bumps that makes Chipp queasy from the sight. As he's fucked into another orgasm, Chipp's eyes roll into his head and his body convulses when his cunt spasms and squeezes the Gears' cocks tightly. Liquid sprays out and splatters the bed, leaking down his thighs and joining the mess that the Gears made with their teeming cocks. Chipp is jostled violently into a blackout, exhausted from lack of air and too much stimulation, but the Gears keep going regardless of Chipp's state and take turns filling both of his holes, maneuvering and twisting him like a broken doll.

Chipp doesn't wake up for hours, but when he does, his vision is spotty and he can only feel the tingles and jolts that run through his battered pussy. Too fucked out of his mind to do anything, Chipp is vulnerable to the Stranger and his friends', and feels a plethora of things happening to him that he's too weak to stop. The spit in his mouth melts a pill he was unable to swallow while his ass and pussy are pummeled mercilessly by Gear cock. He can’t see the state of his body nor how badly his holes are opening for them, but he can feel his guts and womb take in what felt like gallons of come, hot jets of heat that bloat his stomach even more and knocks Chipp out again when it feels as though he might puke up the very jizz that’s filling him up to his core. After that, Chipp wasn’t sure how long this was going on for or if he was even alive. The ecstasy in his cunt, though unusual, was too much to take, but much to his horror, Chipp found himself craving more and more each time he woke up. When a Gear kissed him with his thick tongue, Chipp would kiss back and suck eagerly around him. When a Gear punched his fist into ass, Chipp graciously accepted it, all the way up to the shoulder. Chipp even found himself riding and sucking on their cocks like the vetted whore he was, mind fucked in and out by the weird drug that allowed him to have a pussy in the first place. Chipp didn’t want to stop nor did he want his captors to get rid of him. Now, in his drug ruined, sex addicted brain, Chipp wanted to be fucked so good he got pregnant.

After the first twenty-four hours, the Gears were sated and left Chipp alone. A quivering mess of moans, groans, and shuddering holes, Chipp laid shaking on the ruined mattress, drenched and filled with spunk that flooded out of his cunt and ass in a downpour of white filth. The Gears laughed and jeered at how unmasculine he looked now, from the torn clothes and spread legs that showed his burning red, stretched out orifices to his rapists, but Chipp ignored the seedy remarks in favor of basking in his newfound whoredom. He instead lifted his legs high in the air and hooked two fingers from each hand into his gaping cunt to prompt the Gears to fuck him again, causing more seed to spurt out and ride down the crease of his ass.

The Gears laughed, and much to Chipp’s pleasure, he heard one of them approach his bed and tongue a bright pink pill into his mouth. The whore’s eyes practically disappeared into his skull when the effects of the drug kicked his cunt into overdrive again and Chipp could only smile eagerly at what was in store for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about six months since Chipp was reduced to a fuckhole, and suffice to say, he wasn’t going to miss his old life anytime soon.

The money he made as a walking come receptacle for Gears was leaps and bounds better than when he was just some regular whore. He was turned out weekly by the Stranger and his friends in exchange for about $500 a day and a pack of pink pills, but honestly he’d easily let any Gear fuck his brains out for free. Cocks over a foot long were hard to come by, so why scare them off? Getting his fix was way better than any monetary gain anyway.

And so, with his morals shot and standards at an all time low, Chipp was fucking, sucking, and licking every Gear he came across. Condoms and birth control were now foreign concepts to Chipp, and thanks to his promiscuous lifestyle, Chipp was heavily pregnant with some Gear’s half-breed bastard. His belly swelling with life and pecs dripping with milk, his procurers decided to increase his rates, and Chipp was reaping the benefits of having more clients to play with. He can’t wait to birth and raise a whore of his own one day, but Chipp was going to miss having his puffy tits and swollen clit played with. This wasn’t going to be his last pregnancy hopefully, so he wasn’t too shaken up about it.

Right now, clad in his favorite slingshot bikini, Chipp was servicing a group of four humanoid Gears, each one taking turns eating out his pussy and sucking the milk from his weeping pecs like starved animals. While Chipp stroked his trembling clit and kneaded his heavy chest, the whore mindlessly took in the first giant cock he saw and teased the dripping slit with his tongue, his pussy clenching and tightening around nothing as it waited for another member to fill it up. One Gear came to his aid thankfully and angled his fat cockhead along Chipp’s puffy cunt to prod at it teasingly before shoving the entirety of his length inside of him. Chipp cried out and let the Gear ravish him, unable and unwilling to stop the beast from fucking his come into his womb. The Gear's massive loins slapped hard and fast into Chipp’s rear as he bent himself over Chipp's pregnant form to suckle a leaking teat into his mouth, lips sucking and coaxing an obscene amount of milk to rise from Chipp’s breast that the beast greedily swallowed down without issue. Chipp could only lay there and moan, moan for the Gears to rape his cunt and feed from his bitch-tits like the whore he was. The cursed child in his womb kicked for its father's attention, but Chipp couldn't afford it any mind right now. He had cocks to serve, and the little beast that was brewing in his new uterus had to wait.

#guilty gear #chipp zanuff #dead dove do not eat #evilfics #guilty gear smut #smut

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crystalelemental · 7 months

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"books-are-my-life-stuff: Yeah, I was only one multi, one (paid) daily and one single away from pity after using the 3k gift gems, and the gems we got from the new gear mission and the event wasn't much, so there's no other way. I like Paulo a lot, so it's worth the effort, and I'll learn how to properly use sprint unit from him, even if he has to stay 1/5 for a long time."

The Sprint role feels very awkward to me. I'm not a huge fan of it, personally. Fast-ramping can be fun, but it never feels sufficient around poor DPS, and most of them have damage output that hovers somewhere around alright. Nemona has bursts, but then drops off terribly. Archer has no DPS and is okay on sync. Paulo has decent sync and okay DPS but the accuracy kills me. Variety Noland is keeping up with SC Emmet when you Strike Role him, but at the cost of dying to literally anything that connects. They're just really awkward, and ramping isn't my preferred approach, so I'm coming away from this feeling like Sprint is just not my jam.

"Yeah, my luck hasn't stopped being horrible since the Hisuian Master Fairs. At this rate I dunno if I can get Akari. She's the only one I want this month. I will still give her banner a shot with what I have, but I'm not optimistic at all I can get her."

I really hope she works out for you. You deserve a break. Best of luck.

#books-are-my-life-stuff

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thewickedkat · 2 years

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okay. *cracks knuckles*

--so the Replenishment brings Avalir's stores of magical energy to Cathmoira in order for the land to thrive, since at this point in time the magic is tied in so closely with nature. i'm wondering if Laerryn realises (indeed, if it even matters to her) that shifting a leyline so drastically will fuck up the magical biome of the land? if everything is so closely intertwined, that could mean crops would fail, those who rely on the magic from the city would be unable to accomplish what they need to; disease might be untreated, people might not be able to heal, economies would thus collapse, industry would as well--like, imagine your entire vascular system being shifted into, like, your left leg. nothing would work.

also, tangentially, i wonder if this feeds further into the mages' hubris: 'look upon our glory, for we bring you magic juice for your lives; behold, surely we are like gods, yes?' bah.

--everyone's drive in this city for knowledge makes me think of an adage from the Kushiel book series: 'All knowledge is worth having.' and...given what we know is coming, i have to ask, is it? is it really? even if all you're doing with that knowledge is hiding it in some misguided sense of 'keeping people safe,' is it really worth pursuing to the detriment of all else?

--Nydas asking (seemingly casually) Alessander to reallocate valuable resources during the Replenishment (again, upon which thousands of people depend) and expecting a 'sure, dude, whatcha need' in response is simply amazing to me. yes, Nydas was an orphan once (and presumably not of the affluent persuasion), but his casual entitlement nowadays makes me think that he wants to...not quite erase that past (at least not when it serves him), but he acts like he is dismissive of his roots. he participates willingly in the classism we see in Avalir and doesn't behave in the traditional 'guttersnipe rises to high society' tropey sort of way. i dunno if that's even a conscious choice on Lou's part as far as RP is concerned, but my brain went that way.

--Evandrin's locket given to Laerryn is sweet but also tragic (obv) and maybe i'm reading too much into it, but i can't help but think that Laerryn interprets it (perhaps unconsciously) as a sign of ultimate forgiveness. as in 'no matter what you do, however it breaks bad and wherever the chips fall, i will be your friend' forgiveness. the type of friendship understood by young children before they really grok nuance and how difficult friendship can really be, you know? not to say that Laerryn is naive, but i think (maybe especially since Evandrin is no longer with them) that if Evandrin confronted her about what she's been working toward for whatever reason, she'd be like 'well you're my friend, you're supposed to support me in whatever i do so why are you questioning this?' when friendship does not mean auto-forgiveness, or a clean slate. it isn't like an Etch-A-Sketch. friendship takes work and effort and most definitely calling your friends out on bullshit like re-routing magical pathways so they can yeet yourself off to fuck knows where just for funsies. i personally think the locket is more of 'i will always be your friend even if i don't like what you're doing for you are important to me.'

--what the fuck is up with Nydas' prototype automata that he brought to Laerryn? he calls them Taxmen! they have big fuck-off blades on their backs! no one but Alessander and that poor porter they're gonna mindwipe knew about them! they make me fret, okay?

--i wonder, a Lot, about the Gau Drashari. if they're truly connected to the modern-day Ashari druids. if where the Primes defeated the Primordials during the Schism created the planar points the Ashari tend. i have a lot of thoughts, okay?

i also wonder precisely why the Magisterium chose to alter the Pact of Crown and Thorn after the Raven Queen's ascension. they didn't have to, really. they already had the City, the top of a gotdam mountain, and they were already bringing magic back for replenishing. so what was in it for them? they had the upper hand and all the advantages. and then we find out, further, that not only did the Magisterium agree, but that the Gau Drashari were basically like 'here's this thing you have to use and no we won't tell you what it really is or what it's for. just do it.' and the Magisterium acquiesced!

and what happens if Avalir chooses not to honour the Pact? are there consequences? i mean, Laerryn wants to explore and gain knowledge, as 'the promise of Avalir was exploration and knowledge-gathering;' and Patia outright calls the contract with the Drashari 'long-withstanding handshakes with people who have long shuffled off this plane.' like girl, your grandpa, the dude who put Avalir together, is still alive (if in his dotage), and this is a contract! not some backroom deal over cheap ale! but of course the Ring of Brass thinks rules and laws are for others, not them.

--what was Loquatius' 32 deception check. what. why. i know Brennan normally doesn't leave unfired Chekhov's guns, but. why. what.

--further with Quay, his 'insight on the world' check, the 'if the apocalypse happened, you'd notice it.' well, maybe. but thunder is rumbling. and most people, when they hear thunder they think storm, not avalanche. and once that thunder is heard, it can't easily be deflected or rerouted.

--as an aside, it's deliciously fitting that Lacrytia Hollow, a necromancer, is the one who invited Purvan Suul, the Champion of the Raven Queen. and had further plans to assassinate him. i dunno what her end was, other than maybe spitting in the Matron's eye, but i guess we'll find out tomorrow night.

--why are Evandrin's files from Elena Tuvaris gone? but the file header is still in the filing system? sus.

--'All were happy to watch as my gifts were not seen as i intended them to be.' Asmodeus. Azzy. darling. dear. you absolute lying buffoon. if this is true (i am Scepticism), you expected mortals--who were given free will--to honour that which hurts them irreparably? you expected to grow fat on lies and deceit and treachery and then wondered why no one wanted to hang out with you at parties?

--Patia: 'Those who are privileged, those who are given everything, do not know how to fight.' first, that's not how the adage goes, and second: is it hard talking around the golden fucking spoon in your mouth? she acts like her tenacity and patience and resourcefulness set her above the other gifted mages of the world. i love Patia (Marisha is doing brilliantly with her), but wow i would not wanna have a drink with her.

--lastly for this post, i come to Zerxus. i really think, despite knowing he was speaking with the Father of Lies, he does not believe he actually entered into a covenant with ol' Azzy. i genuinely think that to him, he was just talking, and the deal he made was something along the importance of 'i'll trade you my oreo cookies for your baseball card, cool?' even if he were enlightened otherwise i don't think he would consider it binding in any way because he does not believe in the gods. not disbelieves their existence, but disbelief in that he has no faith in them. thus, any 'deal' would be unenforceable.

to Zerxus, the gods are just beings with metric fucktons of power, but i think he believes that it's faith that gives these beings any sort of dominion over mortals. 'i have no faith, thus my faith cannot be corrupted.' i think this is one very very dangerous aspect of his own hubris, perhaps the most dangerous one.

also i wonder if he had any faith in them before Evandrin departed this plane.

#critical role #exu: calamity #long post #cr meta #speculation spitballing

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time-to-write-and-suffer · 10 months

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Wondering if I should put the elf marriage wip up on Wattpad again ... She's so silly but I love her <3

I remember when you talked about this wip a while ago. Omg I would love to read her 💅💅

I also had to ask: what's your favourite genre for books and games/IFs? Do these genres differ from what you write or are they relatively similar in terms of its genre?

I think I'll slap it up on Wattpad again just for shits and giggles. I've written like 60k and it's probably barely halfway into the story so like. Lmao. What am I even doing???

ANYWAY.

My favorite genres of IFs? I dunno, I kinda vibe with whatever in terms of genre, my pickiness comes from writing style and story focus.

I prefer ones that are more specific in scope and focused on character development and plot progression.

So games that describe themselves as "open-world" I shy away from, as well as like big, stat-based RPGs. If I wanna play something where I can fuck around and be a rogue-mage-warrior elf, I'll just play Skyrim, not read a fuckin 100k word book about nothing at all except stats and action scenes and interchangable bit characters. I come to IFs to read something interesting and to make choices that impact the narrative in interesting ways. To me, IFs are interactive books, and to me the pleasure of reading a book is about characters, narrative, and story. Adding interaction to that means I get to influence things, but not that I get to derail it like I can in Skyrim by ignoring the main quest line and fuck about collecting cheese wheels.

I do also gravitate toward ones with romance, obviously, but it's not a requirement if the story is good enough. Generally I also prefer fantasy over sci-fi, though mainly because sci-fi tends to frontload all the exposition and wordbuilding and is generally harder to get into. I also think that shooting lightning from your fingers is objectively cooler than shooting laser guns.

As for books, it's a bit more complicated, because I read mostly romance nowadays (don't have the spoons for anything heavier because I have brainrot), but I generally dislike romance as a genre. Not because EW GIRLY FEELINGS or EW SEXY MEN, but because mainstream romances tend to be very formulaic, both in terms of characters and relationship progression. And I get why that is, and that's probably why I keep finding them so easy to read. But for someone who loves to explore weird dynamics, funky tropes, new twists, reading romance gets kinda stale. I have fun writing romance, but when I read it, I feel like the authors don't? Like they're just boxing themselves in because that's what the genre says.

I also love fantasy romance in particular, because it lets you add a bunch of different layers to your relationship dynamic, plus it's just fun with elves and fae and shit. It's fun! But I love to also put some emphasis on the stuff that's outside the romance, but also keep it relevant to the romance? Idk how to explain it. Like my dragon wip where the princess dates a dragon sounds really tropey and stupid and it is, but I also touch on like ... culture differences, and generational divides, and prejudice and cycles of violence and stuff.

People always say "If you like romance in your media but hate the genre itself, read fantasy/sci-fi/etc with romance in it!" not taking into account that 1) That shit's really hard to find unless you mind spoilers because "[genre] with romance in it" doesn't always advertise itself as such and you'll need outside sources to recommend it to you and 2) the romance sometimes is so minor in these books that it's not really worth your effort, or it's prominent but entirely disconnected from the main plot, so it feels tacked-on even if it's well-done, which it isn't always.

I want romance where the romance is the main plot, but it's not the only plot, but other plots are also relevant to the romance. I want characters who are there to be smashed with other characters, but they're also their own characters, and the plot would still happen even without the romance, but it's only happening because of the romance.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND MY DILEMMA?! I can't even define what it is I want, so finding it in the wild is pretty much impossible.

I have decided to call what I write "epic fairy tales" because I want that focus on romance that fairy tales have and true love wins but where everything else also matters and is impacted by the love but also impacts the love in return, where the couple are the main characters but not because they must be in love but because they fell in love. AUGH. I don't know man my brain is broken!!!!

#basically like your average dragonfucker book is 'omg he's got a huge weird lizard cock and follows weird omegaverse mating rules!'#and that's your lot for all of them #but i want the fuckin cerebral brain-fuckery of questioning and realizing that the only person you have ever been attracted to #and who has ever claimed to truly love you #is a blue man who can turn into a huge lizard and breathe fire #like yeah that's hot and cool and all but like?? isn't it FUCKED also??#that your own family hates your ass and you only found love by chance because some guy on some island was also hated by his family???#anyway #i'm insane keep scrolling

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