#but if someone passes the vibe check who knows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cyborg-franky · 2 months

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Could you do a HC about the ideal partner for Law, Zoro and Kid? What kind of person they would fall for and which traits it needs for a long lasting relationship ❤️

Oooh yes, I can do this!

Written for a GN reader!

Law

Law needs someone who can challenge him, and push him out of his comfort zone.

Someone who isn’t scared to argue with him when they think he is in the wrong.

Law also needs someone independent, he can’t handle high-maintenance or clingy people. He needs to know you can make your own mind up and have your own views regardless of what he thinks.

You need to be okay with his family, the heart pirates are alot to handle but he won’t compromise on this.

Animal lover.

Someone who is okay with limited PDA and knows he has his own way of showing love and affection.

Someone with a wikied sense of humor like his.

Kind, he may not seem it but he needs someone who is soft and kind and tries to bring out his caring side more.

Smart, likes to read, someone who can match him in conversation.

Nerd. If you are also a big nerd into comics he will find common ground with you and feel he can be his true nerdy self around you.

Honest. Law doesn’t like people who lie or try and manipulate him.

If you're loyal to him he’ll be loyal to you.

Alright, so he likes people to be dependent but he also deep down likes being his partners ‘scary dog privilege’

Must hate bread. Or eat the bread from his meals for him.

Understanding. Law has some damage and needs someone who gets that.

Zoro

Zoro doesn’t have a very big checklist of the ‘type of person’ he goes for.

Just don't be loud or bossy and he’ll vibe pretty well with you.

If you are a huge sword nerd he will be all over that and if you also like to work out he will be delighted to have a workout buddy.

Napping is a must. Either snuggle up with him in the sun and take a nap at his side or simply just be okay with him napping as much as he does. He needs someone laid back, and can’t handle a loud or intense personality to date.

He is happy to spend all his time with his partner he just needs someone who is also happy to enjoy a comfortable silence with him.

You don’t need to be into drinking, again, as long as you don’t tell him what he can and can’t do he’s happy. He would like to have a casual drink with you sometimes though, when he’s a little tipsy he is happy to go on long rants and talk about his thoughts and feelings.

Be his partner and his drinking buddy.

Be his emotional support compass. Be able to stir him in the right direction, and I do mean physically and not emotionally there.

Grab him his arm and just pull him.

You need to be firm with him. Loyal and honest and also have a good sense of humor. He likes to have a chuckle and he does have a silly side.

Kid

You need to keep up with this boy. He can’t handle someone who is easily upset or sensitive. He needs someone to match that same wild spark that runs through him.

Have a passion for adventure and don’t be scared to get your hands dirty.

He wants someone who doesn’t shy away from his loud and boisterous nature. Embrace him for him.

Also needs to be liked by Killer. If you don’t pass Killer’s vibe check there is a huge chance you won't pass Kid’s.

He enjoys picking fights and starting arguments, he lives for some passion and some shouting with the person he’s courting so scream, shout, and give him just as good as he does. Challenge him, don’t be scared of offending him.

Be okay with how rough he is, Kid needs someone who understands that and doesn’t try and change who he is, and doesn’t want to sand down his edges.

Be there for him regardless of his flaws and he will open up to you and you can make each other a better person with time and understanding.

Love the thrill of the fight. Nothing makes his heart sing like fighting a hard battle side by side with the person he loves.

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writefightandflightclub · 1 month

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Something to prove: Frankie Morales x fem!reader blurb

Read the warnings.

Summary: you’re wrong. And Frankie wants to prove it.

Genre: steam / implied smut. Teasing / sexual tension. Brat /brat tamer or Dom / sub vibes.

A/n: okay, look. Frankie is cool, calm and collected. Expect when he’s not. And I just love finding the things that flip that switch on his composure and create, specifically, a Frankie of the u n h i n g e d and f e r a l variety. (That was my initial concept and then… this defo grew somewhat darker than I’d intended, so please do read the warnings! I dunno what happened but I guess I went a bit feral too don’t look at me 🙈)

Spoilery Warnings: there are definite dub-con elements here. Frankie is not checking-in thoroughly for consent and there’s one point where his thought-process /actions outright disregards consent (it’s Frankie’s POV). In my head, reader is enthusiastically on-board for everything which happens during the fic and for what is implied off-screen, but that’s definitely not made explicit in the text or even the internal monologue as it usually would be, and Frankie doesn’t know that for sure all the time. Consider yourself warned. As well, some dumbification here, reader called “stupid girl” etc. So… it’s a slightly darker!Frankie than I would usually write or characterise rather than aiming for canon so much! Also, implied threesome (or similar) off-screen, so a smidge of Santiago x reader which I opted not to tag as it isn’t the main focus. Some dub-con from Santi too. Daddy kink warning (once). (Light) Choking. Spitting (once). Dom / Sun, Brat / brat tamer vibes. Fingering. Definite theme in the language of “it’s for your own good / I know what’s best for you” which could be triggering, and could count as coercion. Explicit.

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY

Gif by @santigarcia

No, the voice in Frankie’s head blares, the word defeaning - although no sound passes his lips. No. No. No!

You’re wrong.

Even as Santiago smiles smugly. Says “you got that right, sweetie.”

No.

Frankie’s jaw writhes, his hand clawing into his own thigh even as a gentle titter spreads throughout the room, passed amiably from mirth-crinkled eye to slanted mouth.

He’s not angry at you. Not exactly.

When Benny had asked, as the juvenile truth or dare game progressed, who you thought would be best in the sack, you’d had to pick someone.

It’s just that you’re wrong.

It’s him.

In his head it’s him. In his head, no-one else can give it to you the way he’s imagined making you come undone. No-one else could have you unfurling the way he’s plotted so meticulously; late at night, as he’s bucked his straining length into his own fist, wishing it was the warm, enclosing wetness of you.

You’re wrong.

He feels his pulse drum in his throat. Feels his face pinch into something angular and hard.

He rips an abrupt swig of beer from the mouth of his bottle. Abrupt like the way he wants to tear a kiss from your mouth. Sudden and harsh, showing you your mistake.

He’s not angry at you. He’s not.

He’s angry at himself; for not showing you; that you’re wrong.

He stands. “Excuse me,” he mutters gruffly, pacing to the kitchen. Opening the fridge to give some passing pretence to his exit. His broad shoulders curl in towards the cold, seeking to calm his suddenly heat-pricked skin. His shirt pulls taut over the writhing muscles in his back.

You find him like this a moment later when you enter, your sweet voice preceding the sight of you. And fuck. The contrast of your softness to the way he’s growing rigid in his jeans has his eyes fluttering closed, lashes fanning to his cheek. Has the circle of his plush lips dropping open as a pulse of need zips along his aching shaft.

No. No. No.

You’re so wrong.

And, for some reason, the thought of correcting your mistake, by setting the record straight himself? It has him coming undone.

“The boys are so easy to please, huh?” you breeze, apparently completely unaware of his predicament. Of the blood rushing in his ears so hard he can barely even hear your voice. Unless… did he imagine that teasing, provocative edge in your tone?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Frankie is fixed in place now. Rigid and imposing. Breaths mildly ragged; frayed at the edges. He hears you hop your ass up onto the counter with a breathy little - and seemingly deliberate - mmhmph. Knows that’s where you’re at, because that’s where you usually sit. That’s your spot when Santiago is cooking, all of the squad gathered around the kitchen island. That’s when Frankie usually leans his long frame against the wall right by you. Drinks in the way your thighs swell - full and soft- as they press into the counter. Imagines slipping his broad hands on to your knees. Sliding the flat of his palms up to part your warm, supple thighs. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your tantalising dress until they can spear your heat.

“Santiago’s” -Frankie juts his chin and curls his lip as you say his name- “so fucking needy.”

The word needy falling from your lips does something to him. Sends a throb of heat and dull ache to his length.

You have no idea how needy he is.

How needy he has been for you.

So… No.

Not Santiago’s name in your mouth instead of his. Not fantasies of Santiago fucking you bleeding into your dreams, keeping you up at night, making you slick between your legs.

You’re wrong.

In his head you’re wrong. In his head he’s had you coming apart on his cock a thousand different times. A thousand different ways. He never leaves you anything less than sated, breathless, boneless. He’s good for you. He’s the best. He’s what you need.

You’re wrong.

A low grunt rises in his throat.

Then, finally, with effort, Frankie delicately snaps the fridge closed. Turns towards you, his usually soft gaze intense and hard. Tongue curling around his plush upper lip. It makes the tentative smile you offer drop from your face.

Frankie watches your eyes skim down his taut, long body. Imagines that he sees your pupils blowing-out. A swallow sinking in your neck as he approach you like this. Harsh. Dominant. Maybe how he should have been with you all along. Maybe you would’ve liked that better.

At least, if he had, that way you’d already know.

His pulse beats a drum in his chest. Fuck. Those thighs of yours make his arousal swell painfully in his jeans.

“You believe it?” he grits, abrupt and forceful. Something dark in him activating. Something he isn’t proud of. Something that feels primal. Hungry, after so long caged away.

Your eyes widen like prey. “Believe what?”

Frankie looks at your mouth. You don’t even know. Don’t even know what’s good for you, do you? That he’s good for you. He’s going to show you. “Don’t play dumb. You know ‘what’.”

He crosses to you. Slots his hips between your thighs. Stands over you, muscles taut and rigid. Primed; yet contained. Reaches his thumb and forefinger out to grip and lift the point of your chin; deceptively soft.

Your mouth falls open. There is a sharp intake of breath, as though his touch is electricity on your skin. You writhe yourself into the counter. Arch your chest towards him, even as your eyes widen with slight apprehension. He’s never spoken to you like that before. Has only ever been soft with you. And look where that’s gotten him. Not buried balls-deep into your cunt, that’s for sure. “F-Frankie… I…”

No. No excuses.

“He was the obvious answer.”

No.

“I had to say someone.”

No.

“I couldn’t say… I c-couldn’t say you, could I?”

“Why not?” He shoves the pad of his thumb past your lips and into your mouth before you can even answer, sliding it over your tongue. Doesn’t even care in that moment if you want it. He wants it. Needs it. But he loves how instantly you pucker your lips to suck. Loves that the hot, wet glide of your tongue obediently greets him.

An awed smile drags over his mouth as you hum around him, already becoming putty. He imagines the wet spot he could make you leave on the counter, your slit all shined for him.

“Stupid girl,” he purrs, tone dripping with condescension, his voice honey over gravel. You moan as he withdraws from your mouth. Shifts his hands to clamp down on your thighs, snaking up. “I could give it to you so much better.”

You bat your eyes at him. Toying with him, like you always do - he sees it now. “H-How am I supposed to know that? I’ve…” you bite down on your pillowy lower lip. Looks like a nice place to rest his cock while he shoves into your warm throat, he thinks. “I’ve never fucked either of you.”

Still. You should already know. You should know it’s him.

You should know you’re wrong.

Frankie’s nostrils flare. He drags the pad of his thumb along the seam of his lips. Contains the anger pulsing in him. Has half a mind to unzip his pants right here. To shove you down on the floor and to fill up that pretty mouth of yours right here. Wants to.

“But you want it, don’t you, kitten?” He’s almost certain now. Certain that he hasn’t been imagining it, all these months. The teasing. The glances. The comments. These silly little outfits you wear around him. You’ve been trying to drive him to distraction, haven’t you? Playing him and Santiago off of one another. Riling them both up. Waiting for one of them - or maybe even both of them - to snap.

He drags you to him then, abrupt, your hands flying out to steady yourself against the counter. Your heat coming to rest over the clothed, straining mass of him as he bucks his hips up, grinding up against you. You yelp and it’s a pretty, pathetic little sound. “Don’t you?” he bites off, impatient for an answer now.

You want that. You want him to take it, don’t you?

All you can respond with is a loose, breathy affirmative as Frankie clamps his hand around your jaw and throat. He feels your heartbeat fluttering in your neck. It feels - to him - like want thrumming beneath your skin. Raw and red.

He dips his mouth towards the shell of your ear next, the scent of your perfume sending him into even more of a frenzy. “Did anyone ever tell you you should be careful what you wish for?”

He grips you harder, and your eyes flash with momentary apprehension as his grip closes over your throat. In the next moment however, your gaze is muddied by a glassy, blooming contentedness. A rising hunger. He jostles your head and you move with it, already pliant for him. It’s almost as though this is what you’ve been waiting for. Baiting him to snap. Baiting him to show you what he’s capable of.

Stupid girl.

How have you managed without him all this time? You need him. Need him just like he needs you. Need him to show you.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Open it.”

You oblige, showing him your pretty pink tongue, and a groan unspools from his chest at how pretty you look like this. Then, without warning, Frankie spits into your mouth.

You jump slightly from the suddenness of it, though once you realise what’s happened, you appear to relish it. Swallow it down and look at him with an altogether wolfish grin.

“Mmm. Thank you, Daddy.”

Such a fucking tease. His cock is so hard in his pants now, his arousal throbbing against the thick, constricting seam. In need of release. In need of that little wet cunt of yours, like he’s imagined a thousand times.

Well, thanks to your little games, he’s done imagining.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

Frankie grabs your hand. Tugs you down from the counter and back through the house.

“We’re leaving,” he announces to the remaining squad, paying their confused and concerned enquiries little mind. Then, he directs his next words only to Santiago. “You are too.”

The other man blinks in confusion. “Whu-“

When he responds, Frankie’s tone and his demeanour leave zero room for argument - he makes sure of it, the sounds carved sharp on the knife edge of his clenched teeth. “-Now.”

Santiago obliges rightaway. “Uh huh.”

“Hey. Big fella. What are we doing?” he asks as Frankie leads you hurriedly towards his truck, stalking down the gravel drive.

“Her.”

Frankie glances at Santiago in time to catch his thick eyebrows raise in surprise; but to his credit he only skips one pace before falling right back in step with him. “Oh. We are, huh?” Santiago looks to you. He looks hungry too. “Did you know about this, Princess?”

Frankie answers for you. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. And now, thanks to her, I’ve got something to prove.”

“Oh oh, Princesa,” Santiago purrs, a smug smirk claiming his mouth.

“Oh oh?” you ask with trepidation, as Frankie bundles you into the passenger seat of the car, clipping your seatbelt for you like you can’t do it for yourself. His eyes are consumed with fire as they meet yours, his tongue darting out along his lips. God, he could have you right here. Certainly doesn’t relish the waiting.

“Yeah,” Santiago breezes, slotting into the back. Frankie exchanges a dark, conspiratorial glance with Santiago in the wing mirror, before watching his buddy lean around the shoulder of your seat. “Honey. You’ve got no idea what you’re in for, do you?”

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And Frankie’s gonna show you. Over and over.

“Get her ready, would you?” Frankie pipes up, not even dragging his eyes away from the road for a second. Even so, he hears you gasp and then moan in pleasure as Santiago’s nimble fingers peel the hem of your dress away from your thighs.

“It’s for your own good, Princess. You’re gonna need it,” Santiago explains as his fingers travel, finding the wet spot between your legs. “Frankie’s big.”

“Hmm. Sure. I’ve heard that before,” you punch out, in between abortive moans of pleasure as Santiago’s fingers work their way inside you.

“Oh, it’s not a brag, honey,” Santiago snickers. Frankie joins him in laughter, like the two of them share a joke that you’re just not in on. He slides his mouth up your throat. “Trust me. It’s a kindness.”

Frankie smiles. Clamps his hands down tighter on the wheel. Can’t wait to get you home.

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And he’s going to show you.

You shouldn’t push someone with a dark side if you can’t handle the consequences, he thinks.

He risks a glance as you throw your head back, mouth dropping open in a silent moan of pleasure.

You’re wrong; but he’s going to have a lot of fun proving it.

#Frankie morales x reader #Pedro pascal #triple frontier

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 days

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I see Duke vibe checking and it’s sorta like with a dog, Duke likes everyone, so if he doesn’t like you, the bats are gonna believe him.

person chilling with the Wayne kids. Duke later “I don’t know, I don’t really like them? Something’s off” and the rest of the bats put immediate suspicion on the person.

I do like the idea of Duke, who's typically friendly, declaring someone failed the vibe check. The fact this comes from Duke causes the Bats to instantly be wary. This could especially be the case if the person passed other Bats vibes check.

For the others, people failing their vibe checks makes sense.

Damian, Jason, and Bruce typically fall on a "distrust before trust" wavelength. Damian and Jason fall on threats while Bruce, in civilian identity, will resort to annoying them with Brucie or weaseling info out of them. Batman threatens.

Cass can usually sus out intent.

Babs runs a very very through background check on people before trusting them (she has varying levels of checks based on what she needs to trust them for).

Dick seems very friendly, but his trust is hard to actually earn. The person usually doesn't know they aren't trusted until they actually are trusted.

Steph employs a series of checks for a person (questions, behaviors, opinions, etc.) to see if they pass the vibes.

Tim, if he were by himself, would combine Babs and Steph's approach. When he's with the others (and trusts their work), he typically has a good feel for betrayal. It's in his bones.

Duke doesn't have that built in suspicion the others do. He's still a bit new to the scene (after two years of being a vigilante, one settles into the paranoia and rapidly changing circumstances). So Duke, who shouldn't have a sus meter, pinging some guy as sus is concerning. Even more so if the guy passed all other checks. In that case, what does Duke, an outgoing and nice person, see in the guy that passed all other vibe checks?

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #barbara gordon #steph brown #cass wayne #duke thomas

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rorichuu · 8 months

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Hello Rori!! <33

May I request Sniper, Medic and.. hmm, maybe Scout or Pyro with comforting the reader?

To be more precise, if it's alright:

Reader is sweet and always trying to keep everyone happy as well as the vibes up around the base- always making sure everyone is appreciated and cared for, but maybe they're starved for affection themselves? Maybe they're afraid of being too overbearing or 'bugging' everyone. So one day they go up to (merc) and ask if they're being too much and that's when they get comforted? Maybe some comfort cuddles and such- whatever you think suits the character!

A drabble would be preffered, please!

-@simp999 ♡

(Also, thank you for being so kind and sweet to interact with!! I'm so glad I found your blog- lots of respect for all the effort put in as well!)

shy away ; mercs x reader

pairing: sniper/medic/scout x gn!reader

authors note: hello! and thank you!! your words mean soso much, i love this ask!! - also i apologize for posting so late :(

disclaimer: none! pure fluff, mentions of spy/engi in scout's. :)

SNIPER:

The battle neared its end, BLU considerably pushed back this time around and it was unbearably visible. Y/n was shooting around; running up to any merc who needed the assistance they needed. Sniper took a seat at the table in the rec room, observing you. You had just gotten water for Heavy and were conversing with Demo, his slurred mouth pouting from their loss as you kindly spoke praises to lift his mood.

Of course, everyone noticed how sweet and considerate you were, it was your best trait... and they appreciated you deeply for it. But Sniper had always wondered if you had been taken care of all the same.

As the room began to file out, you let out a heavy sigh, knowing you did the best you could. Sniper stood, making you turn your head; you send a smile at him. "Didn't notice you were here," you say. Sniper nods, sending a small smile in return. "I have some water I grabbed from the supply room. I know today was... rough. Is there anything that you need?" You asked with your eyes pointed up with question. The New Zealander shook his head, shifting the rifle on his shoulder.

"No, roo. I'm alright," With his head tilted down, he about walked off before you opened your mouth; the sound of you shifting your shoe against the pavement lifted his ears. Sniper looked behind him, eyes on yours. You stood small, shoulders low, and eyes the sweetest he's seen. His eyebrows furrowed now. "Well, on with it then..." He spoke, turning his body to you.

"Am I too much sometimes?" Sniper was caught off guard by this. "Like, when I'm always checking it... I can understand if it's annoying or overbearing when I'm always asking." With every word you spoke, Sniper felt his heart sink just a little bit more. The team needed someone like you. They needed your tender heart when the battle was unforgiving. Your gentle hand when the rough of the gun scarred and tore theirs. They needed someone like you.

Sniper huffed, walking over as he placed both hands on your shoulders, leaning to meet your eyes. "You've never been," you gulped, feeling your cheeks warm. "You mean more to this team than ya' believe, mate." You dip your head to hide your face, Sniper smiles before wrapping his arms around you.

"This is… nice." You laughed as you melted in his hold, comfort washing over you.

"You deserve the care and attention just as much as we do."

. . .

And as time passed, he rubbed your back as you held him. Frequently, he'd sway, but only to find your eyes closed. Sniper then took that as his cue, one hand on your shoulder and the other taking his hat off. The Aussie laid it on top of your head, leaving you looking up at him.

"Let’s go watch a movie.”

MEDIC:

You were helping Medic pick up, politely asking where goes where and what does what... curiosity always found in the dusted books and pristine tools that scatter his room. It was nearing the end of the day; time had settled and nearly everyone was asleep. The clock is sung at 12AM, letting you know it is time for you to head to bed as well.

You have always helped clean up and provide assistance to those who need it... especially with Miss Pauling. Always lending out a hand when it's needed. The day was long, the mercs were exhausted, and you sure as hell were too... but you could always get sleep the next coming hour, right?

Medic let out a hefty sigh with a rub at his temples, your instincts kicked in. "Medic?" You hummed in question, the man looking up with tired eyes.

"Ja?" His voice croaked, his eyebrows now raised with inquiry. As you started to place his surgical tools neatly on his steel table, you began:

"Are you alright?" You look up at him, and the man huffs a small smile. His, then leaned stance, against his operation table was left to approach you.

"Yes, mein freund," (my friend) he puts a hand on your shoulder as he takes the rest of his tools from you. "Go get some rest. You need your 8 hours!" He chirped despite his sluggish posture, not convincing you enough. You noticed the eyebags that slumped, the movements that slowed, the yawns that escaped... undeniably, he was tired.

"Well... what about you?" You ask, leaving Medic slightly confused as he turns his shoulder, glasses falling to the tip of his nose.

"How do you mean, Y/n?" You take a deep breath and cross your arms. Medic raises an eyebrow, his free hand pushing his spectacles up to their original place.

"You should get some sleep... I can pick up the rest. I know it's been a tough week, so I can help!" and in response, Medic's lip quirks humorously. "Really, I can!" As much as you try to persuade him, he doesn't budge.

"I know you can," fondly, he looks at you. "But doctor's rules, Y/n." He walks past you and continues to aid to his unkept office. You were left biting your lip, hands clasped together in front of you as you continued to let your mind race. Perhaps you were pushing Medic towards something he didn't want? Maybe he was annoyed with your continuous advances of lifting the heavy load of his job... what were you to say about what he can and cannot do?

With a knitted brow, your mouth gapes open with the intention to speak. "Hey," you nearly whispered, intimidated by your own question. The German man's head pops out from his desk, a small 'Ja?', making you aware of his reply. "Am I too much sometimes?"

"Wie bitte?" (Excuse me?) Medic, caught off guard entirely, lifts from the floor with his palms leaned against his workspace. You swallowed hard, his tone higher than usual.

"Like... when I try to help or ask if you're doing alright," you timidly voiced. "I understand how it can be draining with my constant check-ups and stuff." The doctor sent you a small smile, whether you saw it or not with your chin tucked close to your chest... he let out a laugh, walking towards you with both hands now placed on your shoulders. You look up at him, cheeks flushed with his sudden hold.

"As a doctor, nobody checks up on me. I'm always delighted by your check-ups, Liebling." With every word he spoke, your lip curled into a pout, your heart softening. Medic patted your head. "You always do the best you can for everyone, but remember to take care of yourself, ja?" Suddenly, Medic is met with a breath-losing hug. Though his chuckle is shallow, his arms wrap around you just as tightly.

"Thank you."

"No," he shakes his head, hands now cupping your face. "Thank you!" He cheeses, leaving you a small laughing fit of his big smile. "You're help is always deeply appreciated, schatz." (Treasure).

Coo

"Ooh, even Archimedes thinks so!"

SCOUT:

Scout was... undeniably, very beat up. He groaned and whined as you gently pressed alcohol swabs against his injuries upon his arm. "Ow! Y/n, is this really necessary?" You sighed, throwing the swab in the trash and retrieving a large bandaid in turn.

"Yes, Scout... I can't have you getting infections or something, it's a pretty big gash," You spoke as you placed the wrap on the lower part of his elbow. "I can't have you whining all hurt like this."

"And Scout, please keep drinking your water."

The man scowled as he took a large sip from his cup, the swirly straw found from the back of the cabinet in the kitchen. (Scout likes the swirly straw, wink wink... but tell no one.)

. . .

As time passed, and Scout continuously cursed at the sting of the alcohol... he was finally all patched up. You lifted from your arched position, back cracking as you stretched. "Alright, you're done." You huff in exhaustion. This boy knows no boundaries when it comes to the battlefield...

The Boston boy leaped from the couch and placed his cup down, water splashing out with a plat; Scout was thankful he was done. "Are you feeling okay? If not I can get some painkillers, I bet Medic has some..."

"Y/n! C'mon man, I'm good!" His balled fist hits your shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes as he checks out the bandaids on his arm. "Stop worryin' over little ol' me, it'll save you from getting greys... take Spy for example! He's just as bad as Engi being a helicopter mom... god, how did they even become a thing."

You chuckled softly, hand holding your shoulder as you listened to him ramble on again. For as long as he talked, he hadn't realized you weren't listening, your eyes spacing off. The boy tilted his head. "Y/n?" ... "Y/n!" Your head perked up at the sound of your name.

"Hm? Yeah?" You hummed. Scout read you like a book; your hand placed at your shoulder, spacing off, sad face... that's 'anxious Y/n face'; he somethin' was up.

"You good? You seem kinda off." He asked, furrowed eyebrows as he leaned forward... arms crossed as he looked you over to see if anything was upsetting you.

You shook your head, waving a hand as you backed away. "Oh, yeah! I'm good, just. Oh, just thinking." You turned and immediately started to pick up the first-aid supplies and his half-finished cup. But before you could lift the glass from the table, Scout's hand surrounded yours to keep the cup where it was.

"Talk to me."

Scout was a sweet boy. He may talk a lot, and may not think much of what he says... but when he knows when to listen, he does. You take a deep breath, pulling your hand away from his. "Do you ever get annoyed by me? Genuinely..." You ask, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. Scout blinked.

"Huh?!"

"Well, you know what I mean!" You exclaim in response, shrugging. "Y'know I'm always making sure you're alright and if you need anything... people can get annoyed when I'm always checking in." You frown, and Scout places his hands on his waist now before approaching you.

"Which people?" He asks and you tilt your head.

"Wha-?" Your nose scrunches in confusion.

"Which people find you annoying when you check up on 'm?" There was a moment of silence, your head slowly lowering in thought. The boy lifted his hand and tapped your chin, motioning for you to look at him. "Y'know I'd beat them up in a millisecond if someone said somethin'!" With a swift lift of his arm, he flexed. You huff, worry still washed over you. Scout eased up, turning to slump down on the couch. He patted the seat next to him. "C'mon, sit."

You sighed and followed, sitting down next to him, only to have an arm wrapped around your shoulders... You were now leaning completely against him. Scout shook you slightly. "You really don't know, do ya?" he finally speaks, your head turned to look at him. You blink. "Oh boy..."

"'Oh, boy,' what!" You frown, your heart picking up a pace as you tense in his hold. The Boston boy chuckled.

"Everybody loves your help!" He chimes, looking up at you brightly. "You remember the other day when Pyro was yabberin' off about something?" "Yeah..."

"They were upset because they messed something up on their drawing. They immediately thought of you, Y/n." Your heart begins to warm.

"Oh, and Spy needed your help on whatever the hell he was doing. Kept saying, 'Where's Y/n? Where's Y/n?' It was like he was a broken record, pfft, embarrassing."

"That was... you, Scout." Your lip curls into a smile, and Scout blushes.

"Well, whatever! Moral of the story," he waves his hands in a dramatic flare. You chuckle. "People love ya! And we're always there for you as you are for us." He pats your shoulder as you lean against him once more. "But that also means you gotta take care of yourself too... you're just as important. Ya always will be."

Sniffle.

"Aaalright, c'mere," swiftly, Scout grabs the blanket from the arm of the couch, wrapping you up. "Take a nap, Y/n. You deserve it."

And you did. With a warm heart and a proud Scout, life was pretty good.

rorichuu!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 medic #tf2 mercs #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #sniper x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #medic x reader #tf2 medic x reader #scout x reader #tf2 scout x reader #rorichuu!

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rowanswriting · 3 months

Text

𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞

(steve x fem!reader smut)

written for @imyourdaninow I love you so much Dani! 🖤

wordcount- 970

warnings (do not read unless you’re eighteen or over! mutual masturbation, phone sex, name calling. reader is driving) if I’ve missed something please reach out to me! hope you enjoy, feedback is always welcome and appreciated! love you guys!

“Baby, did you hear what I said?” You snap back to reality at the sound of Steve’s voice coming through your car’s speakers. You’d zoned out for a moment around the time when Steve couldn’t shut up absolut wanting to get his mouth on you. “This isn’t fair, you know I’m driving home baby.” You whine out, pouting even though he couldn’t see you do it. The older man laughed on the other end, you could picture his smile in your head, he was far too cocky.

“Awww but isn’t that a part of the fun honey? Don’t you like being all wet for me? Don’t you like being my pathetic slut?” You bite back a moan that threatens to slip out at his words, squeezing your legs together as you try to keep your car on the road and not run off into a ditch because your boyfriend is a menace. “I know you took your bullet with you, you always do, why don’t you use it while you drive baby?” You roll your eyes, really you wanted to slap him silly for this, you sigh and reach over into your bag, pulling your mini vibe out, Steve knew you far too well.

“You’re holding it aren’t you?” You roll your eyes harder, pushing your hips up to pull your pants down to your knees, slowing down a little. You hold the button down, turning it on before pressing it against yourself, letting a strangled moan out, hearing Steve’s breathing pick up on the other side of the phone call. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this baby, you’re so fucking dirty. Can’t even wait to get home to get off for me can you?” You shake your head slightly, gripping the steering wheel in your other hand that isn’t busy pleasuring yourself.

“N-no, can’t help it baby, you turn me on so much. I wish you were here, wanna pull over and ride you in my backseat.” Steve moans loudly, the slick sound of him rubbing his cock rings throughout the small space of your car. “Fuck, listen to you, wouldn’t even care if someone saw us either would you? All you’d care about is how deep inside you I could go, I think you’d love it if people driving by looked over and saw you bouncing yourself down around me, you want everyone to know who owns you.”

The aching in your body intensifies as you stop at a red light, his words shooting straight down to where you need them the most, you’re so wet it covers your thighs, leaking down onto your seat, you’d have to clean that up soon but for now you were enjoying the sensation of your boyfriends dirty words, not even caring if someone looked over and saw what you were doing. It would only make you cum harder if they did. “Please, I c-can’t last much longer Steve, need you please.” You press the button again, the vibrations kicking up some as you try to stop your hips from moving too much.

“Cumming already? What a desperate thing you are, do you think you deserve to cum? I think you’re being a very bad girl right now, getting off in the car isn’t what good girls do, baby.” You grit your teeth, what a fucker. “I-I’m sorry! Please I can’t anymore.” You bite your lip hard, feeling your orgasm approaching faster and faster, your legs shaking as you check your mirror, looking around to make sure you weren’t keeping someone from being able to pass you. Steve says nothing, his breathing ragged as you hear his fist working himself faster and faster, the combination of trying to focus and feeling lust drunk makes your mind spin. You feel dizzy, or like a feral animal, he was driving you insane.

“Just think baby, if you cum really good for me, I’ll give you whatever you want when you get home. I’ll drop to my knees at the fucking door and eat you out like you deserve, I’ll fucking worship you, now, cum for me, show me how desperate you are, let me hear you.” He says. The fire burning within your veins finally becomes too much, you pull over quickly slamming on the breaks and quickly putting your car in park, a few more circles over your clit and the sound of Steve’s praises is all it takes.

You should be in porn, is the only thing you can think of as you cum, the breathy sounds coming out of you were enough to make you cum even harder than you already were. Steve didn’t last much longer on the other end, grunting out some things you couldn’t understand along with breathy little ‘fucks.’ You quickly turn your toy off, your hands trembling as you throw it down onto the seat next to you. You slump down, gripping onto the wheel as your entire body trembles. Your seat completely soaked under your ass creating an uncomfortable feeling as you lift up your hips again, pulling your ruined underwear and pants back up your legs.

Steve laughs before speaking again, his voice sounding hoarse from how loud he was being just moments ago. “Holy shit baby, that was the hottest shit you’ve ever done.” He praises, causing your face to flush as you shush him. You two quickly fall back into a regular conversation as you turn your blinker on, putting your car into drive and pulling back onto the highway slowly. You hoped Steve would make good on his promise when you got home, you cranked up the air conditioner and shook your head giggling at some joke he was currently making, pressing down on the gas with the thought of him waiting for you at the door, on his knees.

taglist 🏷️

@bunnyhargrove @sweetdazequeen @steves-babysitter @reidsbtch

#steve harrington smut #steve smut #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n smut

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moonastro · 3 months

Text

the vibe you give out to others

pick a picture

left to right(top)-> 1,2

left to right(bottom)-> 3,4

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes. °Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it). ° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!

PILE ONE

someone who can communicate hours on end with someone, usually about the deeper stuff. so you may like to share your thoughts a lot which leaves people guessing that you would be a very good person to talk to. you also are good with reading the vibes of a room, people almost expect you to change the atmosphere of the vibe within a group. you really are someone who solves problems, situation ships and other things people may need assistance with. i feel like you help others grow, you teach people from wrong or right and perform humanitarian acts. if you are in a bad situation, you get the heck out of there as soon as possible, people know that because you may express your thoughts and feeling through communication. i feel like you talk about the little things to others that they might even find that you can be oversharing at times. anyhow, you may look back on what people did you in the past or vice versa. you don't hold onto a thread, you make very clear decisions that take you wherever it may.

yeah, you learn from your mistakes and only go forward which makes you a stronger individual. there is still some youthful energy surrounding this pile, so don't forget to not be hard on yourself all the time, you give out but not necessarily get given back which allows people to use your time unnecessarily. people can also see a child in you, you may get told that you remind someone of their son or daughter. being behind the scenes is what you are used to and may project a certain insecurity that others notice. i feel like its that others see their own insecurities in you as well which may cause jealousy. you are careful though, you plan, you observe and you double check. there is nothing wrong with being in routine but i feel like people notice that you are too afraid of failure because you might have grew up to be the high achieving kid or the oldest child who had influence on the younger siblings and so forth. overall a very sensual and hardworking pile.

assigned song: Black beauty- Lana Del Rey

youtube

PILE TWO

very energetic around people or friends and family but think a lot by yourself, you may keep your true self hidden. you are such a good manifester and people notice that whatever you say out loud becomes real. people may call you a psychic because you just know things before others do, for example if a friend asks about something like an event and you just tell them like "watch this happen in there" and something like this and it happening. you are quite reserved with your feeling and emotions, you use them on better things. around you, others feel confident and secure. you are a very good empath and feel whatever others are feeling, so it is very easy to empress ones feelings to you. you are such a caring and observing individual that others feel nothing but security and comfort around you. honestly such a nostalgic pile!!

you crave a free life where you are not stuck to anything or anyone, people feel the freedom you possess. you don't aim to be powerful nor business oriented, you just want to see what's out there and see what other cultures and countries have in store for you. i feel like you have a plan that you have that consists of you travelling abroad and creating a happy home there at a new setting. you are good with legal matters like documents, credit cards, the law and so forth. you may know about it as you may be interesting in becoming a lawyer or working somewhere that involves a law, like police and so on. but on a real note, you balance everything out in your life, people see how well you split your routine in even pieces. overall, this is a very free spirited and intelligent pile!

assigned song: Ride- Lana Del Rey

youtube

PILE THREE

someone who reserves there space and energy, someone who talks very cautiously and are aware of their surroundings. a lot of people don't actually know how to figure you out and it may sound very cliché but i think its just because you don't reveal your feelings by making facial expressions and people don't know whether to laugh or cry when you tell them something serious. you might like to do stuff alone and may feel like a burden to others but it is not the case for other people, they see you as a sweet and isolated human being that likes their space and peace. i see a LOTTT of overthinking and just daydreaming in general. i feel like something is restricting you from taking action and i think it is your thoughts, relax pile 3😅. no but for real, others avoid you not because you are unlikable but because they see how you thrive alone and you don't look like the type of person that needs help from others.

you may have moved a lot as a child and felt like you lost many things because of that. i feel like you don't feel secure and people notice the disease you portray in your body language. that is totally not a bad thing but i feel like others see the frustration and a void that you have, this is very deep but I'm getting an image of just a black figure which may translate of you feeling numb or not feeling anything at all. i feel like this was in the past for some of you, however where there is hardships there is hope and that is exactly the case for this pile. on a good note, your smile brings comfort to others, may make others happy with your smile and that's just so sweet. you do have many ideas flooding in your mind and i feel like that could bring you excesses so be careful. you have many ideas to start over or to change your personality completely. overall, this is a very reserved and a busy mind pile!

assigned song: How to Disappear- Lana Del Rey

youtube

PILE FOUR

check out pile one if you felt drawn to it as it may resonate with some of you!! so, you care about others very deeply and this gives me motherly vibes. i feel like you may not listen to people and do your own thing but that's entirely okay but the way i see it is that you sometimes need to take advice in order to move forward. you stand your ground fairly and see the contrast between right and wrong, i feel like that gets people thinking how you pick up on things others don't pay much attention to. say if you called someone out for something, others may go like "oh yeah, i didn't even notice". you really cant be bothered to argue with no one, you feel like there is no point because people are childish and immature and that is something you would rather pass on. conflicts and any other sort of fighting is a strict no go for you. people get the vibe of how can you keep your cool??? they actually are very impressed of your skill to maintain your cool😊. i feel like also you go through very transformative periods in your life that actually change your way you act, maybe you go through different eras and like to experiment different styles and ways of living which is totally fine.

wow, you are a very powerful soul, you have some sort of power that others are stunned. you are literally the lion of the jungle, the boss, the CEO, the millionaire, the royal. WOwww just wow. people just keep getting surprise on surprise from you, you may have so many precious hidden facts about you that make people stunned by the fact that you have so much treasure hidden. people see you as a very humble individual who is always there for people and see the good in everyone. it is such a pleasure to be around you, people may feel almost lucky to have you in their life. you hold a lot of secrets as you may stand with he statement that if you talk about your achievements to others it may delay your success. overall, a very very very powerful and mysterious pile.

assigned song: LION- (G)-idle

youtube

that's it everyone, thanks for sticking by and like always don't be afraid to interact with this post however you'd like as i entire appreciate everyone's support and kindness!!

FRIENDLY REMINDER- paid tarot readings are available (DM or check out here for more info!!)

*IMAGES ARE NOT MINE*

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undercoverpena · 11 months

Text

i. say what you want

javier peña x f!reader | chapter one of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. romcom vibes. an: i really wanted to write actual 00s text talk, but it broke my brain and made it hard to edit so, forgive me. pls imagine all the cul8r and yw's. massive thank you to @guyfieriii for convincing me to write the idea i hammered on about and holding my hand as i do. wordcount: 2.5k.

read the prologue

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Boredom flitters through him, trickling down his bones in the same way a bead of condensation drips down his beer.

His eyes track it, watching it land in the pool on the worn, splintered porch table.

He was tired, drained. Fingers and thumb working his forehead as the other taps an unknown beat against the arm of the chair: a habit, a routine.

Javi didn’t follow his Pop to the television or the tavern. He seated himself out here, taking in the fields—both the new and recently fixed fences that kept the livestock alive and merry.

It hadn’t always been his thing, just more so since he began sleeping a bit better—having found it easier to switch off one night when he sat out here. The day slowly rolled from his shoulders with each brush of the warm breeze, each muscle trying to unknot with a rustle of the trees.

That and it gave him privacy in learning how to use his new phone.

The one bought with the intention of not needing to stand hovered near the kitchen on the landline whenever Steve insisted on checking in on him.

He was the only one with the number—outside of his Pop. The option to hand it to others when he felt like it, he’d been told. Mainly, Javi had strongly suspected it was pandering to an alternative way for Steve to bother him about how happy he was, and how Miami would be good for him for a week or two.

Now someone else had it.

Someone unknown. Who wrote with a speed he couldn’t emulate, watching a reply fly back before he’d even wrapped his head around what was happening. All black letters standing out against green—

Truthfully, if not for how panicked and stressed they had sounded, he would have ignored it. Later, even deleted it (once he’d figured out how).

But, because he couldn’t, it goaded him.

His thumb slid his phone on, staring at it—the small, ridiculous exchange. It torments him in a way that unfurls something with him.

Curiosity, mainly. A need to know more.

Wrapping his fingers, he takes a mouthful of his beer. Continuing to clutch the neck of it, resting it on his knee. Staring at the lit screen on the table, his thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closing—shutting out the way the evening sun waves goodbye to the day.

It’s easy to force himself to forget about the throbbing in his palm from fixing another fence panel—and the simmering prickling after he saw a small boat pass. It’s harder to ignore it.

The phone on the table, the one he lands on as he cracks open his eye, the one he can’t pick up and just see—ask.

It’s always been a problem, his need to close the lid on something. The not knowing pecking in the back of his head all day, if not—had done since he was little, led to him gaining even more invisible scars from Colombia.

But it’s also what had made him good.

Even if, for all his success and accolades, he was alone on a Thursday night. Sat on the porch he’d grown up on—his own father even has plans.

He shouldn’t text. He should delete the number like he was asked to—forget all about the random stranger and their date.

how’d your date go

Truthfully, Javi regrets it the moment he sends it. The moment the sound registers in his ear—sound simmering to nothing before it drenches him.

Bouncing his leg, he coats his throat in more of his beer. Swallowing it back quicker than he’s found, he can even text. Rolling his phone, swirling it between finger and thumb as he stares across the land—listening to the evening sweep over, the cicadas waking up, the rustle of the breeze in the trees.

Why are you texting me? I’m intrigued

He keeps it short. Sweet.

It allows for quickness, pressing send and for his fingers to go back to flexing, needing to tap.

A sudden desperation on the tip of his tongue—nose itching for the scent of burning papers and tobacco leaves. Instead, pressing the button on his phone, seeing if he’s missed a text, or a reply.

Even if he’s been holding it the entire time, knowing he would have felt the vibration through the pads of his fingers down to his wrist.

His stomach slowly slides, uncomfortably dropping to his feet with a thud. Regret washes over, the itch growing more intensely as the hunger for a smoke increases. Wishing he hadn’t given them up a year ago—hadn’t tried to kick the habit to appease his pop. Wishing he hadn’t been able to do so successfully, so he could light one now without feeling culpability.

Mountains of regrets begin to pile all over again. Little ones. Adding up into bigger—

They didn’t show. Happy?

He pauses.

His stomach drops another inch. Happiness is the last thing he feels.

Grabbing the beer from the table as he takes a sip, more graceful—less through a need to busy himself and more for courage. Hand clutching his phone, the green-lit screen standing out as the chirping croon around him.

shit, I’m sorry about that We can stop texting now. What if I said I didn’t want to I’d wonder if you’re bored or lonely.

That makes him smirk. It cuts across his face, paints over the day's aches, the text slicing through the day's misfortune.

Ones such as the stares when he went to the hardware shop—even if he’s been back for a while; the gossip that he could hear in thick whispers on the aisle over—as though they weren’t all used to him being home.

All of it vanishes. All because of a quick-witted text.

can a man who has moved back in with his pops at 30-something years old be both Overachiever that’s what I hear Should tell you, I'm not going to tell you what I’m wearing. Last night was a rarity, not a common occurrence.

He takes another sip, licking his bottom lip, shifting in his chair. His fingers slowly press buttons—but the blinking line swallows them all, thumb hammering to delete.

This should be easy—talking to a woman.

Javi has never usually had this problem. But, then, his tongue has typically said the words his brain has thought up. Now he has to type them, allowing him to linger on them—especially with how slow he is, and how quick you are.

it’s not the underwear that had me coming back to text you, it was you

Oh. So you’re a charmer. Not sure it’s the usual word women call me, but I’ll take it Because you’re bored and lonely.

He snorts, if only to himself.

The stars slowly twinkle, shining above him as he mumbles, “fuck”. Staring out into the nothingness, suddenly feeling not quite as empty as he had done when he first woke.

yeah because I’m bored and fucking lonely, hermosa

I shouldn’t text you.

probably a wise choice

Yet I am.

And I kinda want to.

you like talking to bored and lonely men?

Not usually. But you do seem charming.

it’s a gift

Since we skipped pleasantries and jumped straight into my underwear choice, do you have a name?

I do

Hilarious.

it’s Javi.

Okay, Javi who lives with his dad—how’s your evening?

Is it an appropriate response to a bad day to drink two bottles of wine?

depends on the day

It was real shitty.

then drink away, hermosa. you ok

I will be.

Not because of the wine. Because I’m out of town tomorrow so I don’t have to deal with the person tomorrow.

colleague giving you shit?

I think it may be his life's purpose to make my day as shitty as it can be.

I can relate

Worked with an asshole or two in your time, Javi?

most definitely. one day I may even tell you about one named bill

I look forward to it.

Guess from that comment you don’t mind that we’re still talking?

not even a little bit

is it weird to ask you how your day has gone?

You bored again, charmer?

just taking an interest

It’s fine, hotel food kinda sucks, so I’m tucking into some chips and dip.

they at least good, the chips and dip?

Oh, I only buy the good kind. I don’t cheap out on dip.

I never asked, did you ever find Aish’s number?

Yes. One digit, that was all between you and her.

Also, she finds the entire thing hilarious. Because, of course, she does.

I think if this happened to Steve, I’d find it funny too

Steve your friend or?

wouldnt you like to know

A girl is just trying to make a conversation

he’s a friend from my old job

You see him much?

no. you see Aish much?

Not as much as I’d like. But, more my fault, I travel a lot for work.

I see. what kind of dip you got?

If I tell you, I fear you’d know too much

that a bad thing, hermosa

Well, a girl can’t so easily let you know her weakness, Javi.

He used to hate the rain.

Despised the smell that lingered after a good fall, how it trapped him in or soaked him to his bones if he ran through it.

Now, he finds it pleasant—watching it fall in waves of mist that cools the air and hammers itself into the ground. The sound of the television flutters from the living room to his ear, merging with the tapping of his pencil against the newspaper—his eyes busy fixated on watching the heavens open amongst the ranch. Drenching, washing away bits and pieces it can.

If someone had told him he’d have gotten into crosswords back in Colombia, he’d have thrown the paper at them.

Now though, it was therapeutic. A mystery with no significant risks, no real need to finish it—but he never left it half-done all the same.

Guess who tried to rearrange the date. you told him no, right I told him to fuck off, actually.

Javi laughs.

It escapes quickly, dancing right past his bottom lip—before he mutes it. He clasps his lips around it, swallowing it back before his pop asks him what he finds so funny.

Pushing the newspaper away, the pencil rolls and rolls until it collides with the wall, his fingers circling over the keys, thinking—processing.

Sometimes a response to you comes with ease; others, he finds he thinks more carefully. Each message he wants to be considered, intentional. An ember having ignited in his chest, not sure what it meant—why it was there—but not wanting to give it any reason to have it stuffed out.

as a minimum you deserve someone who tells you they can’t make it on the actual night Charmer. bare minimum, hermosa I know what that word means now, btw. btw? By the way. It’s quicker than repeatedly clicking buttons. I don’t think I asked, what do you do?

Stroking his fingers across the hair above his lip, he pauses.

Biting down on the inside of his mouth, a pang of regret flooded him.

At times, it comes in waves. Washing over him when he thinks of what he used to do, what he’s good at—compared to what he does now.

Biting the inside of his mouth, Javi lifts his eyes to watch a droplet falling down the pane of glass—trailing a path, merging with others until it creates a blow on the sill.

He likes being home—has to remind himself that he does too.

Especially when his muscles ache, new cuts on top of other ones—crosswords and occasional beers being the excitement he now comes to expect.

Sighing, it’s swallowed by the show in the other room and the rain falling heavier—spotting, in the distance, the cows lying down, one by one.

you want to know a lot for saying you wanted me to delete your number btw to answer your question I work on the ranch my family owns A rancher? Good to know you’re good with your hands. That sounded more flirtatious than I meant. I don’t mind. And just so you know, hermosa. I am.

He wipes his thumb across his smile, foot tapping on the wooden floor, staring at the screen.

It's happened before, the edge of flirting. The two of you step towards it before one of you pulls back.

His heart thumps in his chest, fingers flexing on the table—so used to the hue of green now, it’s all he sees when he blinks. The vibration his phone makes registered in his bones, his body trying to convince him he’s felt it as he waits.

It’s cruel. The way seconds turn into minutes.

His phone screen dulls before he relights it.

I don’t even know what to say to that. well are you good with your hands I’m a quicker typer than you, so I think that’s a given.

He smirks, it cuts into his cheeks—shaking his head in disarray as he leans back in the chair. It protests. Practically cringes under the new movement.

Like much of the house, the years have done a number on it. So much of it all the same from when he was growing up—just fixed, repainted, repurposed.

At first, he’d found it hard to be surrounded by it. Almost swallowed by memories—both the good and the bad.

Now, he just thinks it’s paused, frozen in time. Sometimes, a tired mind even lets him believe his Ma could turn the corner, asking him if he’ll bike to get her flour.

I was DEA in Colombia. it’s how I met Steve I can imagine with all of the news coming out of there, that would have been hard. Something like that My first job was in my dad’s tool shop. I wasn’t very good at it.

Rolling his head to rest on his shoulder, he reads your message a few times.

The change in conversation was appreciated, not that he’ll voice it. He briefly wonders if it’s a tactical choice or accidental.

Hoping it’s the former as he takes in each letter, each word—fingers teasing his chin, rereading as he imagines an outline of a person sitting somewhere, curled in. Just like he is.

Maybe staring down, waiting for his reply, like he waits for yours.

A break from the mundane, a pleasantry in a sea of normalcy.

Something he wants to protect—hoping you do too.

How come? Apparently, continuously mixing up tools isn’t good for customers—even if my dad was impressed with our profit increase.

49 down is slither

What’s the clue again?

skeleton section

You do this every day?

I try

yes okay I do

It’s ribcage, Javi.

you hermosa are brilliant

Glad you’ve caught on, charmer.

I think you’re just finding a reason to talk to me, because that one was easy.

I don’t need a crossword to find ways to talk to you

No?

no, there’s lots I don’t know about you

I’m not that interesting. I promise

I doubt that.

Favorite way to start your day?

Wouldn’t you like to know?

an: anyone grinning as much as me...

next chapter ->

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theresattrpgforthat · 3 months

Note

I was wondering if you had recommendations for a game that evokes the vibe of like The Thing (or Among Us) from the social angle - there is something here passing itself off as human, as *one of us*, and we need to find out who it is. Maybe with hidden roles? It seems like there's a lot of interesting space to explore there.

Thank you!!

Theme: Hidden Role Games

Friend, I've got more games for you than I thought I was initially going to find, and each one is in a different setting! Enjoy!

What We Thought We Knew, by Mouse.

You play as a group of friends who have known each other for many years- at the very least since highschool, and have gone through many transitional phases with each other.

It has recently been revealed to you that someone in your friend group has not actually been there for all of these events- they have been implanted in the group for whatever reason and all your memories modified to fit them into the narrative. None of you know who it is -- not even the fake.

In order to find out who the fake is, you must experience some of your core memories together again, moving through them like you are those versions of yourselves again, to try and spot the mistakes in the memories, the distortions that don’t quite make sense in the context of everything else happening.

The hidden role in this game is as determined by the GM, and the fake will not know that they are the imposter at the beginning of the game. The setting for this game appears to be relatively agnostic, so you could make this a fantasy setting, a futuristic setting, or even a modern setting. Characters have four stats: Head, Heart, Flesh and Beyond. The game is designed off of Caltrop Core, so when you roll your dice according to stat, there’s graded successes/failures. Players will also get chances to identify a distortion, which helps the group figure out what pieces of information don’t add up. If you want a game with mystery for almost everyone a the table, you might want to check out this game.

Jackrabbit Parole, by Willow Willis.

Well, you screwed up. Whatever you did, it was bad enough to land your ass in prison. Not just your average state-of-the-art correctional institution, either. This place is Bad News.

Parole? Don’t make me laugh. This is your life now. There’s no help coming for you and your fellow unfortunates. You’ll shit, sleep, work and eat when and where they tell you to for the rest of your miserable existence. If you want out, there’s only three paths:

Execution. Suicide. Or escape.

And since the first two don’t sound too promising, all you’re left with is jackrabbit parole.

Jackrabbit Parole is a game about prison escapees, one of which is a Snitch. The exact setting of the prison is up to you - the only thing that matters is that you’re stuck here unless you find a way to get yourselves out. You’ll roll to determine what your characters’ relationships are, and draw cards determine your roles.

There are two special roles: the Ringleader and the Snitch. The Ringleader has access to everywhere in the prison; the Snitch wants to get as much information as possible and pass it on to the guards. The Snitch profits by keeping everyone here, which means that players cannot communicate openly about their plans. The game plays over three acts, so I think it’s pretty easy to contain inside a single session, and it comes with some suggested settings if you’re not sure where to start.

Conspire, by Cherry Picked Games.

Conspire is a hidden-role storytelling game. Players delve into any moment of conflict, real or fake, and populate the scene with shady figures. They secretly assign objectives to these in-world characters and shuffle the roles amongst themselves. Everyone draws a role to inhabit and acts them out, not knowing who any of the others are or what they are trying to accomplish. What follows is an intense tale of bluffing, brokering deals, and shaping the very universe to your whims.

This feels like a GM-Less game, with all of the roles and motives of each character determined according to the setting and people created by the group at the table. Each piece of the puzzle is created collaboratively, so you’ll know what’s going on with one or two people, but not the whole picture. If you want a game that gives everyone the same responsibilities and has the flexibility to fit the settings in your head, this might be the game for you.

Eulogy of a Fool, by Kate.

In Eulogy of a Fool, all players are attending the funeral of a Fool. However, the Fool is in this crowd, having faked her own death to collect on a life insurance policy. Everyone in attendance must give a eulogy while the Fool tries to blend in and everyone else is trying to single out any suspicious persons.

This game consists of a series of cards, 20 of which are Identity cards, and 30 of which are relation cards. There will only be about as many cards in play as there are players for any given game, so I think having so many options allows for a different game every time you play. Each player will also have to give a eulogy about the deceased, using information given to all non-imposters, while the Fool will have to improvise as best as they can. Looking at the instructions and prep for this game, I think this game would be very easy to learn. There’s a script for the GM to follow while running the game, and the cards make it easy to generate characters on the fly. If you want a game that’s part ttrpg, part card game, this might be the game for you.

EUREKA, by @anim-ttrpgs

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is an original, fully fledged, 200-page 2d6 TTRPG from The Agency of Narrative Intrigue and Mystery inspired by The X-Files, Kolchak: The Nightstalker, and much more!

Eureka features investigation mechanics that let players take initiative, use their characters’ unique strengths to find clues, and deduce conclusions themselves rather than to just walking into a room and roll Investigate.

EUREKA’s main focus is on solving mysteries, but the way character creation is meant to be set up means that it is very likely that characters will have a lot of secrets, purposefully hidden from the rest of the group at game start. If you are playing a supernatural creature of some kind, your character will have plenty of reasons to keep their identity a secret. While the group is trying to solve whatever mystery there is, your characters will have to decide just how much they trust each—other, with dramatic reveals possibly prompting some thrilling and suspenseful moments. This game isn’t quite in it’s final form, but there’s a robust community currently play-testing it, and the folks behind the development are very eager to answer questions and help you get a game to the table.

Loyalty, by jackdawfactories.

You are the crew of a deep-space mining vessel who have just been awoken from stasis. You are coming in to land on a previously uncharted planet, and must investigate the nearby cave system for its utility to you - but of course, there’s more to it than that…

Loyalty is a game based on Ridley Scott’s Alien, and combines standard RPG mechanics with a hidden role aspect. Survive the horror you have unleashed while working out who - anyone - is the traitor in your midst.

This is a game in which more than one person could have a secret role. You draw a card from a regular deck of playing cards, and based on what kind of face you have, you are either an android infiltrator, or a human. Because the character creation is randomized, it’s totally possible to have an entirely human crew - but the players won’t know this, and thus the paranoia will still be present.

On top of this paranoia, you’ll be facing off against an alien, and the more you come up against it, the stronger it gets. There’s a win condition, a lose condition, and the possibility to eject a suspect out of an airlock. If you like heightened stakes and no good endings, this might be the game for you.

The Warmest Place to Hide, by Rosie.

The Warmest Place To Hide is a TTRPG homage to John Carpenter's The Thing.

It is the longest night in Antarctica, and something has made its way inside the research station at which you work. You and your teammates must work together to protect yourselves from assimilation - but when the creature can make itself look like anyone and anything, who can you really trust?

Create a base, populate it with crew, then see if you can survive an alien invasion.

This is the game for folks who want a direct re-creation of The Thing. As this is a Caltrop Core game, the rules are fairly minimal and use dice pools of d4’s. You can roll randomly for your character’s background, and choose an archetype that will give you specific skills and special abilities. You’ll also receive a random assignment of “Human” or “Something Else”. If you are Something Else, you always have to opportunity to take over any dead characters.

I’m not entirely sure how you communicate to players that they are Something Else without alerting the whole table; I’m assuming that this is the sort of game that involves passing a lot of notes. I think it might also be interesting if the GM introduces other threats that could kill players so that the Thing can approach and assimilate them without the players necessarily knowing who’s doing it.

#indie ttrpgs #tabletop games #dnd #game recommendations #asks #hidden role

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stardewvalleybut-i-draw · 3 months

Text

Humming a tune (writing)

Evelyn notices the farmers both seem to sometimes hum to themselves SO she decides to approach the male farmer and ask what tune he's humming in order to get to know him better.

Word count: 1,378 words (so medium I guess)

Characters: Evelyn and Mask Farmer.

Vibe: nice and wholesome moments :) I'm not really experienced in writing but I'll do my best to make it coherent, enjoy! :D and with pictures!

A lovely spring and sunny day welcomed the valley. Evelyn tends to the town square flowers, putting care and attention to each one.

It's the town's flowers after all. The people in the valley need to be represented properly!

It was nice to be out in the center of the town square on days like this. It allowed her to greet anyone who went through, give them a big warm smile, and catch up about what was happening that day. It was also nice to be able to bathe in the sun's warmth and reminisce on the past and how the valley had changed over the years. In came the male farmer with focused eyes, dedicated to a goal in his mind, ignoring everything around him. She could tell he was passing even with her bad vision by the sound of his fast and heavy footsteps, always in a rush. Both the farmers often cross here in the mornings, although Evelyn really only saw the sister out. Both would look at the bulletin board outside of Pierre's shop, check the calendars, and go on with their daily routine but only she would talk to Evelyn and the other townspeople. "Perhaps he's shy," Evelyn thought seeing him walk to the Help Wanted board. He greeted her once when they both first arrived in Pelican Town and he hasn't talked to her since then...or anyone besides for transactional reasons it seemed. Evelyn's face grew sad at the thought. The poor boy was ignored by everyone or treated as an anomaly to be feared and avoided. It didn't seem to bother the farmer but her heart could not let it be. "The flowers can be tended later, it was about time someone bothered to try and have a nice conversation with him" Evelyn thought. She began to walk towards the farmer who was still reading the Help Wanted note and noticed he was humming something. Thinking about it now, the farmers both tend to hum a tune to themselves. It's almost never the same song and seems to change throughout the seasons. "Excuse me, dear" she asked beside the farmer "May I ask what tune you are humming?"

The Farmer jolts in shock and turns towards her. "Oh I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to startle you." Evelyn says apologetically "I was just curious about the songs you hum to yourself, they sound very nice, was it a band back in the city?" He was really expecting anyone to talk to him today so Evelyn's Interruption took him back a bit. He also had a lot to do but her soft genuine smile guilt tripped him to take the time to answer her. "The song doesn't exist." The farmer stated bluntly "Oh"

Not the answer Evelyn was expecting. She had sworn she heard both the farmers hum the same tune.

Very curious she continued "So did you come up with the tune?" "No" the Farmer responds "I hear them In my head." Evelyn's confused expression let him know it made no sense to her but he couldn't really find another way to explain it besides being direct and honest. Maybe he should have lied, he thought. His sister did all the time to explain weird things like this but her genuine curiosity stopped him from lying to her face. Could he really lie to sweet little granny Evelyn? Evelyn saw the farmer's face slightly turn from her in shame. She didn't really understand the answer but she didn't want him to feel ashamed of his response so she softly said "It's ok. I don't need to understand it, do you like the songs? The farmer nods.

"Oh, that's nice to hear, I assume the song changes through the season? do you hear it all the time?" "Yeah..." he responds. She could tell the Farmer was starting to get uncomfortable with her questions so she tried to ease his nerves. "You know...your grandpa used to do the same thing too" The farmer looks at her in surprise "It's true!" she exclaims Evelyn begins to walk to the town flowers gesturing for the farmer to follow. The farmer does so.

"When he used to run the farm, he would whistle songs to himself while he worked" Evelyn reminisced. "Your grandpa used to say he would hear the valley singing to him, he would call it a superpower! Not many of us understood what he meant but by the sounds of it, I guess it was passed down to you"

The farmer smiles and chuckles at the idea. Their Grandpa did used to whistle a lot on the farm. It was only a faint memory since both he and his sister were so young when they used to visit. In a sense, the valley was singing to them.

"If it's not too much, could you hum a bit of the song you hear?" she asked The farmer paused for a second. He looked slightly at the sky and listened. He did his best to match the tune but it was difficult when there was more than one instrument to hum in his head.

Evelyn listened internally and cheered for the farmer once he had stopped. She could tell he was embarrassed by it but genuinely flattered. "You have a very lovely voice dear, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, oh!-" she interrupted herself. "I heard there was a band in town, maybe you should join, I think you would make a lovely addition!" He knew she was talking about Sam's band but he hadn't really talked to the guy... or anyone in that band. Sometimes he saw Abigail up in the mountains or Sebastian taking a smoke break but never really paid them any attention. He never needed to. Evelyn begins to tend to the flowers as she speaks. "You don't need to if you don't want to. I can tell you don't like to talk much, I don't want to pressure you."

She pauses.

"but I can tell you like to listen" The farmer had never really thought about it that way before... but when you don't say much, the only other choice is to listen to the world around you. "I know not many of us can understand you and I've noticed others treat you differently because of that" Evelyn gently places her hands on top of the farmer's hand. "-but I don't want you to feel like you're not part of the town. You will always be welcomed here...no matter how odd you are"

The farmer softly smiled to Evelyn. "Well," Evelyn exclaimed. "I don't want to hold your day up much longer but If you ever want to talk more about your grandpa or just to hear an old lady ramble about the past, I'm always here for you" The farmer is quiet for a second, taking in her words. "Thank you." He says. "Ohhh, no need to thank me, I haven't done anything, sweetie" She replied but the farmer quickly responded. "You did." Evelyn curiously looked at him confused. "You talked to me."

Evelin's heart was touched beyond words as the farmer leaned down to hug her. She squeezed as hard as her weak arms would allow and stayed there for as long as he needed. But the farmer quickly got up, smiled, and began to walk to the mines. They waved each other goodbye and moved on with their days. The warm moment being over just like that. As the farmer walked up the mountain he began to think. It was only a small moment. It had never really bothered him that the town viewed him as a cryptid. He often reveled in being odd, weird, and feared. He didn't have much of an interest in getting to know anyone. But Granny Evelyn had warmed his heart. Maybe he didn't need to be so cold to everyone. Maybe he should stop by and chat before heading to the mines. It's not like the caves are going anywhere. Maybe... ...he'll stop by and get some cookies :)

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #stardew farmer #sdv farmer #sdv evelyn #please let me know about spelling or writing mistakes btw!#I am VERY dyslexic and spell checker can only do so much :(#SDVBID art

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