#but its absolutely an effective weapon

[commander-gloryforge]

so have you guys been playing around with the weapon mastery? any fun weapon/spec combinations you've been playing?

#personally i'm playing aurora on axe/sword willbender rn #is it effective? idk. is it fun? absolutely! #skill wise willbender is my fave guard spec but ive always loved axe a lot #i just personally dont enjoy firebrand as much anymore so its nice to mix my fave weapon with my fave spec #dios wisdom #gw2 soto

[apas-95]

Firstly - Yes, it is a necessary part of the struggle against the genocide to engage in protests, boycotts, 'awareness raising' and 'holding accountable', etc. That being said, however, it does absolutely nothing on its own, and far too many people are being far too proud of themselves for an outsized belief in their action.

These things - peaceful protests, boycotts against brands, letters to senators, literally posting - do nothing whatsoever to impact the pace of the genocide being carried out. They have not slowed the advance of Merkava tanks or the flights of F-35s by even a minute. They are effective if and only if they are carried out in conjunction with and support of actual direct action against the war machine. Work stoppages at ports, blockades of weapons manufacturers, these are the bare minimum of actual opposition to the genocide. Further action, like solidarity strikes in the states providing diplomatic and military support for the occupation, general unrest, etc, are sorely needed - and, ultimately, are the only things to be done not premised on appealing to the good conscience of those committing genocide. Your governments do not care what you think of them, they care if you stop working - and they will only stop sending weapons if you physically stop them.

It feels like 2020 taught a lot of people nothing. Massive protests, unthinkable levels of outrage - even met with apparently cowing of the state, overwhelmed with public opposition to their policies. Ultimately, none of the movement's goals survived, and the gestures (which is all that were gotten) faded. Roads were renamed and painted back over. Cops still kill people exactly as much. They know exactly how much you oppose it, they always have. Telling them isn't going to do anything, because it's not news. They don't act this way because they're misguided or have wrong ideas, they do it because it's profitable and in their material interests. The only way to make them act differently is to make them act differently. Either directly, by blocking their actions, or indirectly, by making the endeavour too costly through strikes and other leveraging of the fact that we, as workers, produce all their wealth. Each dollar going to buy IDF missiles ultimately comes from you. You want to stop it? Organise and strike. Physically block weapons movements. Yes, propagandise, talk about it, but for the love of god, don't trick yourself into believing that's the end of it.

The Palestinian resistance isn't limiting themselves to posting and raising awareness. They know that those committing genocide are plenty aware of what they're doing. No, the resistance is taking up arms. They would kill the soldiers of your country if they came across them defending the occupation, and they'd be right to do so. The soldiers of your country would kill you for striking. There is only one war, here.

[storiesfromgaza]

It is very important to read this and share it

Today the Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor Observatory stated that Israel dropped over 25,000 tons of explosives on the Gaza Strip as part of its ongoing extensive war since October 7th, equivalent to two nuclear bombs.

The Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Observatory, based in Geneva, highlighted the Israeli army's acknowledgment of targeting more than 12,000 objectives in the Gaza Strip, setting a record in the number of bombs dropped, surpassing 10 kilograms of explosives per person.

With the advancements in bomb quantity and effectiveness, while maintaining a consistent amount of explosives, the quantity dropped on Gaza could be equivalent to twice the power of a nuclear bomb.

Additionally, Israel deliberately employs a mixture known as "RDX" (Research Department Explosive) commonly referred to as "the science of complete explosives," with a power equal to 1.34 times that of TNT.

This means that the destructive power of the explosives dropped on Gaza exceeds what was dropped on Hiroshima, taking into account that the city of Hiroshima covers an area of 900 square kilometers, while Gaza's area is no more than 360 square kilometers.

Furthermore, Israel has been documented using internationally banned weapons in its attacks on the Gaza Strip, particularly cluster and white phosphorus bombs. White phosphorus is a highly toxic incendiary substance that rapidly reacts with oxygen, causing severe second and third-degree burns. The Euro-Mediterranean team has documented cases of injuries among the victims of Israeli attacks that resemble the effects of dangerous cluster bombs, as they contain small high-explosive submunitions designed to penetrate the body and cause internal explosions, resulting in severe burns that melt the victims' skin and sometimes lead to death. These submunitions also cause peculiar swelling and toxin exposure in the body, including transparent shrapnel that does not appear in X-ray images.

The Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Observatory has emphasized that Israel's destructive, indiscriminate, and disproportionate attacks constitute a clear violation of the laws of war and the rules of international humanitarian law, which stipulate the obligation to protect civilians in all circumstances and under any conditions. Killing civilians is considered a war crime in both international and non-international armed conflicts and can rise to the level of a crime against humanity.

The 1899 and 1907 Hague Conventions, along with the 1949 Geneva Convention in its latest formulation, established fundamental human rights during wartime to limit the deadly health consequences of internationally banned weapons, some of which could lead to the "genocide" of civilians.

Article 25 of the Hague Regulations concerning the Laws and Customs of War on Land prohibits "attacking or bombarding towns, villages, dwellings, or buildings which are not defended."

Article 53 of the Fourth Geneva Convention states that "any destruction by the occupying power of real or personal property belonging individually or collectively to private persons, or to the State, or to other public authorities, or to social or cooperative organizations, is prohibited, except where such destruction is rendered absolutely necessary by military operations."

According to Article 147 of the Fourth Geneva Convention, the destruction of property that is not justified by military necessity and on a large scale is considered a serious violation that requires prosecution. Such practices are also classified as war crimes under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court.

The Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Observatory has called for the formation of an independent international investigative committee to assess the magnitude of explosives and internationally banned weapons used and continue to be used by Israel against civilians in the Gaza Strip.

This committee would hold accountable those responsible, including those who issued orders, made plans, executed actions, and took measures aimed at achieving justice for Palestinian victims.

#gaza #palestine #غزة #فلسطين #humanitarian crisis #genocide #gaza strip #free gaza #free palestine #storiesfromgaza

[harlivy-timkon-supremacy]

GUYS CAN WE **PLEASE** TALK ABOUT THIS

DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT DAMIAN GAVE TO EACH OF HIS FELLOW BAT SIBLINGS??? Because these are all real established items in DC canon!!

I’m going to work my way back from Dick, because, OMG. 

Damian gave Dick the Sword of Sin. If that sounded vaguely familiar to you, you might be an Azrael fan because that is his preferred blade to use. What is so special about this sword??? It’s ability:  The Sword of Sin can be ignited with the mind of the wielder, if the person is powerful enough. The sword has the ability to conjure in the mind of its victims all of the sins for which they are guilty or have not atoned for.       Golly gee, I wonder who this might be super effective against. You know. Giant bat guy with a guilt complex bigger than Texas. You can bet your butt Dick is going to send Bruce through a series of ‘Nam war flashbacks before this series is over. I can absolutely see why Damian would give Dick this weapon here, as he’s known Bruce the longest. I can easily see what part in this story Dick is going to be playing as he clearly has the most directly effective weapon against Batman. Damian’s favoritism here is both sweet and a little cruel if you think about the context much. 

Now let’s talk about Stephanie’s weapon, and yes she very much is Damian’s older sibling even if she isn’t a Wayne. Damian gave her the Coup-Stick of Black Bison (A DC Super Villain.) What can this staff do???   The mystical power of the coup-stick can animate material objects and in so doing, command these objects to do its bidding. This power cannot affect living biological material, but can affect non-living organic tissue. Black Bison once used the coup-stick to re-animate the stuffed remains of a white stallion (as well as other animals). Black Bison has also used the coup-stick to control the weather, such as summoning a strong wind to deflect attackers.      Guys Damian gave Stephanie a weapon that will allow her to call on back-up, and COMMAND her own creations, a weapon that allows her to be a leader!! Something she has wanted for a long time??? Also, it sounds like it has the power to control the weather??? Damian really said #girlboss and how much he loves her without actually saying it. I cannot stress enough how well DC could do her justice in this series if they at least tried.

Now, wow. Damian really straight up gave Jason’s dramatic ass the actual Trident of Poseidon, which is an unbreakable weapon that that serves as an extension of the wielder’s own power. Damian really gave Jason not only a King’s weapon, but a godly weapon. What other powers it has might not be relevant to whatever power it might awaken with Jason as its wielder.       Damian really cut out the middle man and just said, “Look, you are stupidly strong. I’m going to give you a stupidly strong weapon. Have at ye!” And you know Jason is going to wield that thing like he’s Poseidon, rightful ruler of the sea. I literally cannot wait to see Jason just absolutely power-housing his way through whatever gets in his way.  

Lastly, but not least in the slightest, Damian gave Tim the Cloak of Cagliostro! Which I want to acknowledge right off the bat, 🎶one of these things is not like the others~🎶 And thank Rao for that, because:  The Cloak of Cagliostro is a magical item which allows the wearer to teleport, and to become intangible, and invisible.      That is the *cutest* Easter Egg ever! Gotham Knights acknowledgement of Tim’s teleporting anyone????? Tim was the only one Damian gave a defensive weapon, and not an offensive weapon to. And that makes sense, because Tim is a defensive fighter! Tim never has to be the strongest person in the room. He just needs to be clever enough to use what he knows to win. Instead of giving him a weapon to swing around, Damian gave him something that Tim could use to protect himself, and actively use to make ALL of his skillsets stronger, not just his fighting power!!! This! Is! NOT! Damian looking down on Tim or considering him weaker. He’s playing to Tim’s strengths! He literally gave his big brother a cloak that straight up is like a cheat-code of meta-powers that would suit Tim SO WELL, because he knows Tim will be able to use those abilities to bullshit levels of effectiveness!! 

It genuinely looks like thought went into what weapons each of the Robins were given. I know fanon likes to bash on Damian or bash on his relationship to his siblings, or vice-versa, but in canon it has been clear for some time now that Damian considers all former and current Robins his family. (Including Tim. He refers to Tim as Timothy nowadays, and calls him his brother, that’s not fanon) No matter if Damian is not himself right now, he’s genuinely looking out for all of their best interests, and is ensuring that each one of them is as well-equipped as possible. 

Regardless, genuinely curious to see how each of these weapons will be used by their respective Robins, and how this will all end up. Hopefully, it ends with a giant group hug that will break the internet. (Also, ngl, I hope if Tim gets a new superhero identity soon his new suit will play off of Gotham Knight’s Tim’s abilities or be based off this cloak. Just think that would be neat ✨)

#batfam #batman #robin #damian wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #jason todd #tim drake #batman vs robin #gotham knights #meta analysis #nightwing #red hood #the spoiler #dc comics #bruce wayne #also I got my info on the weapons from dc wiki #still reeling over how cool this stuff is #comic spoilers

[leighsartworks216]

Hello!! I love your writing a lot and Im sorry if you've written something similar before but I just think a quieter Tav who would gently tug on Astarion's sleeve or shirt everytime they need help with a lock or a trap would be super cute. It would be super light and gentle tugs or taps to his shoulder, nothing forceful or hurtful. In exchange for his help they would let him have first pick of whatever is inside. Tav thinks he agreed to help because he gets a cut of the rewards, and that is true, but mostly because he's more fond of Tav than they know and he likes the way they smile and look at him when he helps - worth far more than the treasure inside any chest or room.

Thank you for sharing your writing! ❤️❤️❤️

This one feels super short to me but I still think it's pretty cute

Warnings: none

Word Count: 572

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion couldn’t quite recall when it started. He remembers that you were cagey around him - around everyone, for that matter. Always so quiet, never speaking unless you absolutely had to. He’d tag along with you while you explored, and when you needed his lockpicking expertise, you’d call for him. Even if it was barely a whisper, his sensitive ears picked up on it and he came sauntering to your aid.

It evolved, rather quickly, he thinks. You stopped calling for him in favor of tapping against metal or knocking on wood, calling his attention to your location. It was especially effective over long distances, if you’d ended up wandering off.

And then it evolved further. This time it was mostly on his part. He decided once to stay nearby, search the rooms with you, looking for anything you may have looked over. But when you needed his help, you didn’t knock, you tapped on his shoulder. Admittedly, it startled him at first. Your footsteps were so quiet he didn’t hear you coming up behind him. Somehow, despite the efficiency of knocking, this was how you continued to get his attention.

You tugged on his sleeve, tapped on his arm - always gentle. That, too, formed its own little code. You tugged when there was a trap ahead, telling him without words to be careful. You would tap when you found a locked door or chest, or even just to get his opinion on something.

It was… endearing. The rest of the group would wander on ahead, exploring for themselves, and he stayed by your side the whole time. He wrote it off, of course, claiming he didn’t want you to strain your voice for his sake, but it became much more than that. And even though you always compensated him for his trouble (First dibs on treasure had earned him a few lucky finds, things that the others sure would have liked for themselves.), he found a greater treasure in your smile. In the way your eyes lit up at a particularly interesting discovery.

-

You tapped on his arm excitedly before you ran to a door. It was old and rusty, but not rusted enough to break through the lock keeping it in place. You tugged on the door handle and turned to him with such glee. He could hear your heart racing with anticipation.

“And what do you hope to find in there, darling?” he teased as he pulled out his lockpicks and got to work. He could see you shrug from the corner of your eyes. “Well, if all that’s in here is a skeleton, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on claiming my reward.”

You nudged his shoulder playfully. He had a hard time keeping a smile off his face. With a few clicks and a very stubborn turn, the door unlocked. He stepped back before you could barrel him over.

The room was dark, with small reflections of light off metal catching your attention. It was probably gold or weapons or something worth the effort. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Your child-like enthusiasm as you rushed inside to grab anything good, bright-eyed and smiling. If he could see his face, he’d see just how fond he looked at them - the gentle smile that came unbidden to his lips; the softness of his eyes, full of adoration and affection.

Yes, he thought, this was the best reward.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr

#request #requested #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

[dorindameddler]

Origin-unique answers to Orin impersonating the Rivington smith

all of the origins have unique answers to the questions for finding your perfect weapon, so i thought i'd compile them all!

Question: Tell me, how do you like to kill?

Wyll: With a lot of heat and a little panache.

Karlach: Fast, heavy, and hard.

Astarion: I like to mix it up. Sometimes it's a subtle thing, sometimes it's a bloodbath.

Shadowheart: If I have to kill, I'd rather it be quick and discreet. Mess is for amateurs and maniacs.

Lae'zel: With maximum carnage. Killing is a duty. But spilling blood is a thrill. (the contrast with shadowheart's answer ahaha)

Gale: I call on the Weave to subdue my enemies. It's effective, though hardly its loftiest application.

Dark Urge: (Option 1) I like to make them bleed. To sever arteries, tear flesh, to make them scream. (Option 2) It flows through me as raw inspiration, I never know what my next kill will look like.

Question: And when you kill someone, what do you feel?

Wyll: Bold. Brave, even - if the kill is just.

Karlach: I feel right. I don't kill anyone who doesn't deserve it.

Astarion: I feel alive.

Shadowheart: Alive. Nothing like taking a life to make you appreciate your own delicate existence.

Lae'zel: Sated, as if my parched throat has been fully quenched.

Gale: Powerful, but responsible. To take a life is a grave matter, whether with good or ill intent.

Dark Urge: (Option 1) I feel the most intense pleasure. Arousal, even. (Option 2) Exhilarated beyond compare. It is my purpose. (Option 3) I feel nothing. It's like I'm not even present.

Question: Do you think you could turn your weapon on those closest to you?

Wyll: To pierce a heart I hold dear? I can hardly bear the thought. (i have to point out that this does not technically answer the question lmao not being able to bear the thought and not being able to do it are two different things. king of answering evasively)

Karlach: My friends? Absolutely not. Not ever.

Astarion: Bold of you to assume anyone is that close to me. (another evasive answer lol)

Shadowheart: A... necessary evil, perhaps, if circumstances are dire enough.

Lae'zel: My targets earn their deaths. If I slay you, you were no ally of mine.

Gale: Hardly a course of action to relish. But were the straits dire enough... perhaps.

Dark Urge: (Option 1 - Dark Urge given slayer form) Could I? I already have. (Option 2 - Dark Urge not given slayer form) I do all I can to keep my loved ones safe from my blade.

#bg3 #wyll ravengard #astarion #karlach #shadowheart #lae'zel #gale dekarios

[minisugakoobies]

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel. 

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate. 

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity. 

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,”  some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples. 

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan. 

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day. 

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles. 

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv. 

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.” 

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.” 

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping. 

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished  and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins. 

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho. 

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send. 

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate. 

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats. 

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything. 

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out. 

Your phone buzzes. 

Trying to find my shirt  

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?” 

“My tiger tank.” 

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones. 

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.” 

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?” 

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.” 

“Thanks.” 

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this? 

You grab your phone. 

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response. 

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting. 

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.” 

Thanks

“Chan!” 

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed. 

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply. 

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?” 

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time. 

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out? 

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone. 

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.” 

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow. 

He does. “Wait, what?” 

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you. 

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?” 

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up. 

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?” 

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly. 

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’” 

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you? 

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.” 

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll. 

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words. 

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle. 

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles. 

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug. 

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go. 

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?” 

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.” 

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.  

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?” 

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?” 

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…” 

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh. 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.” 

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips. 

“You good?” 

Funnily enough, somehow, you are. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you. 

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently. 

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.” 

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling. 

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?” 

“If you - what?” 

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.” 

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to. 

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again. 

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” 

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.” 

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach. 

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest. 

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.” 

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction. 

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?” 

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!” 

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth. 

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses. 

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again? 

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine? 

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting. 

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses. 

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop. 

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun. 

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?” 

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame. 

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly.  He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them 

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker. 

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want. 

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly. 

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.” 

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.” 

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused. 

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild. 

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him. 

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern. 

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.” 

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down. 

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.” 

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you. 

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock. 

“Do that again, baby.” 

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for. 

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.” 

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?” 

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”  

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.” 

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.” 

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over. 

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue. 

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. 

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?” 

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more? 

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…” 

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you. 

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask. 

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.” 

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment. 

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place. 

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!” 

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening - 

“Fuuuuck!” 

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth. 

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling. 

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times. 

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.” 

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!” 

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over. 

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.” 

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.” 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later. 

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #fic: coadm #bang chan fanfic

[causeimhappinesss]

On his backseat (Joel Miller x reader)

Warning: smut, age gap (reader in her 20s), unprotected sex, slight breeding kink + wrap your biscuit, please

Disclaimer: English isn't my native language (I'm french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :)

Bonus: a meme at the end

*

All day long, a crazy tension had built up between you and Joel, at first for a silly little thing, but he refused to agree with you, when you were absolutely right. Then, the tension had built up so much between the two of you, that it had metamorphosed and soon, the older man's hands had been wandering, though discreet.

“I'm going to go. I'm leaving you and don't kill each other!” Ellie joked.

With these words, she slammed the door of the car you had repaired and leaved the garage you had just entered. You would even say that she was running away from you, undoubtedly uncomfortable because of the tension that had gradually built up in the car, but which she probably didn't imagine would be sexual. From time to time, when Ellie was reading one of his comics, he had kept his hand on your thigh, which he stroked, knowing what effect it had on you. She had preferred to leave as soon as possible and give you time to explain yourself with Miller, while she rested in the house where you had taken up residence for two days, the time to search this cute town from top to bottom. Once she was inside the mansion, you turned your attention to your lover... Of course, Ellie didn't know the true nature of your relationship: friend by day, sexfriend by night.

"Well... would it kill you to admit I was right about that damn alarm?"

"You weren't right. We should have been more careful..." he growled.

"Oh yeah, sure, and spend three hours on an alarm system to disconnect it, when it doesn't even take us ten minutes to get all the weapons back." you retorted, sarcastically.

Miller grumbled, but the sound of it brought a smile to your face, because the old man always made you laugh one way or another. Then he met your eyes and a glint of mischief flashed in his eyes. You slid a hand over his chest and felt his heartbeat under your palm; a sensation you'll never forget. His lips parted, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes to know the moment. Your fingers slid over his warm skin in gentle caresses as you admired the masculine beauty of his body. Then your phalanges slid lower and traced the contours of his abs. A sigh escaped from his lips, which pushed you to unbuckle his seat belt, then the one holding his pants, which you made fall. Its excitation was felt, a bump formed in its boxer, that you touched with malice, before releasing it from this confined space.

A wave of heat ran through you as you wrapped your hand around his member, feeling the velvety texture of his skin. You began slow and gentle back and forth movements, under the spell of the intensity present in his eyes. Joel gasped, so that his hands clutched your hips as you increased the pressure in my movements. Your free hand explored the skin of his chest, then his thighs, until you felt his breath catch. You peppered him with kisses until his desire stretched like a bow.

"Baby..." he growled, sliding a hand into your hairline.

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you knelt on the car seat, staring at your partner. Your fingers kept on caressing him skillfully, being the source of the accumulation of pleasure in his belly. Slight grunts broke through the barrier of his lips and made your hair stand on end. God knows how beautiful he was, that expression of desire portrayed on his face, eyebrows furrowed, sweat beading his gray brows. Again, you stared at his body, admiring his chiseled abs and broad chest, before lingering on the throbbing erection before you. Then, you wrapped his length in your wet mouth. You felt him harden further and moan in response to your movements, so much so that his hips undulated. Your tongue ran along his member, while your lips worked their magic around him. His hands tangled in your hair as you titillated him, encouraging his pleasure, so that he struggled to contain himself. Your tongue played with his red tip and his whole member throbbed in your mouth, as if he was already approaching orgasm. Yet you knew Joel wouldn't accept such a thing; he was always holding back to make you cum first.

"Fuck... You're going to drive me crazy..."

Soon, you could no longer contain your desire and you gave in to your desires. You climbed onto his thighs and felt the heat radiate between your boiling bodies. You undulated your hips over his boner and placed kisses on his neck, before you rubbed yourself on one of his muscular thighs. Your movements became frantic and desperate, as if the world was about to end another time.

The warm night air washed over your skin, but the coolness inside the car was gentle. Your heart was pounding, a delicious mixture of desire and fear... The fear of getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Joel wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pressed his lips to your neck. You moaned softly, your body aching deliciously from his touch. Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him to feel his body closer to yours. His lips follow yours in a fiery kiss. Electric sparks flew through you with each touch and caress.

Dizzy with desire, you pulled him into the backseat. His hands peeled away layers of you as you mimicked him between feverish kisses. Soon you were naked, on your knees, with your butt against him, giving him a magnificent view of your pussy. With his experienced fingers, he teased your clitoris, with which he played, while stroking your breasts. You were already wet and ready for him, but you felt no shame. Sex was one of the pleasures still present on this earth, especially when you were on the road like you. And your body knew full well that you were meant to fuck with him, it worked so well between the two of you... The pleasure climbed and your first moans of pleasure echoed through the cabin, as your fingers gripped the fabric of the backseat.

"Joel..."

He also knew what rhythm to take with your clit; he was playing with your emotions and your body. When he felt you on the verge of orgasm, he stopped and you squealed. Before you knew it, his warm tongue slid along your labia, drawing the contours of your clitoris, then one of his fingers brushed the entrance to your vagina. Another moan of pleasure forced its way through your lips and you nearly collapsed forward, but her strong arms held your thighs back.

"You taste like honey... I could eat your pussy all night..."

Your heart was pounding, banging against your ribcage violently, so you were begging him to make you reach nirvana. Without delay, the orgasm hit you full force, your legs shook and the euphoria poured into your veins in the form of powerful waves of shivers.

Then, with his hands on your hips, his cock pushed into you, drawing a moan of pleasure from you as he grunted. You were so tight and hot that he threw his head back for two seconds, his jaw clenched, and then he watched your two sexes joined together; an erotic sight that made him shudder. It was as if your pussy had been molded for his thick, long cock. A perfection he relished and enjoyed as often as possible. Finally, he moved inside you, a touch that filled you with more desire, made you quiver and tremble. Nothing else mattered at that moment; just you and the sweet union of your bodies. Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the sound of your labored breaths filling the air of the car. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied your song of pleasure, which you tried to restrain, to avoid Ellie from hearing you, just in case.

"Oh shit... Joel... Don't stop..."

"I don't plan on stopping..." he whispered in your ear, in a suave voice.

You held on to this moment and let his love consume you in your wholeness. You were enjoying the moment, knowing that it won't last forever. For now, you were loving the delicious sensation he was producing in your lower abdomen. His powerful hands, anchored on your waist, drew you closer to him, your back against his chest, in a carnal embrace.

Without ever ceasing his sinful movements inside me, his lips traveled the delicate skin of your neck, your faces illuminated by the moonlight, resulting in a romantic and intimate atmosphere...

"Fill me up... Don't pull out..." you moaned.

"Oh God..." he growled. He was aware that cumming inside you was a bad idea, it wasn't like you were taking birth control, but the idea of his cum filling your hot, wet pussy amplified his pleasure. He was already picturing you with a nice round belly once you got back to Tommy's.

The excitement of getting caught fed the burning fire in your veins. You made the moment last as long as possible, until you both climaxed with moans. Your pussy pulsed around his thick cock and milk him dry. Your heart was pounding, beads of sweat ran down your skin and you were shaking. His seed spilled into you as his hot breath rushed down your neck.

*

Sorry, Ellie... For the backseat you're gonna spend another bunch of hours on.

My Ko-fi: betrayedwriter

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - part 11

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 11:

Danny took a running leap and landed lightly on the next shoddily tiled rooftop. He’d lost the midget in the Southside factory district and now he was in some sketchy neighborhood with smaller buildings. It was on ground level, but it seemed almost like it was sunken into a hole as the rest of the city had grown up around it and swallowed it - one of the main highways even went plain over it. 

Danny stopped for a moment catching his breath. The roll of heavy duty cable slung over his shoulder was… well heavy. He looked out over the mishmash of old neon lights and newer LED signs for bars, nightclubs and little kiosks. In the alley next to Danny’s building money was exchanged for services Danny was not sticking around to watch. Blushing, he skipped to the next roof, taking care to land silently. 

He should just disappear, he was far enough away from his own hidey hole and he was tired. He was always so freaking tired.

But…

Well, first off he wasn’t phasing through a night club to go underground. 

And secondly…

Red Helmet hadn’t showed up. 

That was a good thing, Danny told himself frowning, as he walked along the spine of the newest roof, dodging around chimneys. The past weeks had been torture. 

Every time the Red Helmet had shown up it had been so hard not to go to him. He’d wanted so bad to give in, to just for moment heed the call of his core, the promise of companionship, comfort. Refusing that instinct was agony. And Ancients, Danny remembered how he’d looked in civilian dress, in that well worn henley, broad chested and with those big arms, he probably gave great hugs - if only he wasn’t one of the vigilantes trying to capture him… And if he wasn’t absolutely terrifying.

Danny shuddered, remembering how angry he’d been last time, yelling for him to stop. Yeah… Red Helmet was… He was an anglerfish, a lure, a treacherous light in the dark, that he had to resist, and last time he’d shown his teeth. 

Red Helmet not showing up was a good thing. 

Danny stopped and looked up to the cloudy night sky, jaw tight. It was a good thing. Why did he still feel so bereft?

He pulled the goggles down around his neck and rubbed his wet eyes angrily. Fuck it all, he just wanted to go home already!

His only warning was an electrical bzzt and he threw himself to the side instinctively. His eyes widened in fear as he only barely dodged two sticks sparking with arcing lines of electricity. Every hair on his body stood on end. The entire world narrowed in on those two weapons. He jumped backwards, uncaring where it took him he just needed to get away. 

Something hit his back and stopped him. His hands touched brick: wall. One of the sparking weapons was swung in lazy swirls as the dark shape attached to it bent down to pick up the roll of cable that had caught on a small chimney. Danny touched his shoulder, finding it bare of its earlier cargo. His hand tightened into a fist angrily and he cursed himself for not paying better attention. 

The shape got up and while half Danny’s attention was on the electrified weapon, he could now see it was Blue Bird. Danny had encountered him before, though only a couple of times. He’d been the bantering, good natured sort next to the angry midget, and he hadn’t known those sticks he used for weapons could do that.  

Realization ran cold down Danny’s back; Blue Bird hadn’t thought he needed the electricity before, but he did now.

Blue Bird moved and Danny ripped himself free of his petrification. Casting around he realized the wall was not a wall, but a pillar and most importantly neither was a thing that could stop him. It was only at the last second he went intangible and stepped backwards. The metal sticks clanged against the bricks where he’d stood. 

The sound of Blue Bird cursing, was a dull far away sound, as Danny started shaking. He kept a tight desperate hold on his intangibility but still felt himself losing focus. He quickly had to go somewhere. 

He dropped down until he found one of the many flood pipes that handled overflow if the sewers couldn’t handle the pressure. Something that seemingly didn’t happen too often judging by the dry debris left here. You could say what you wanted about this city, but the web of underground channels and tunnels was impressive, and the city was if nothing else prepared. 

He set down carefully and then let go of his intangibility. He was still shaking. His heart was pounding too fast. He wrapped arms around himself and took careful deep breaths even as his body told him he wasn’t getting enough air. But he was, he knew that was the panic speaking. 

He fucking hated electricity. 

Hated it. Hated it. 

You would think he’d be used to it by now. When he died, all the times Vlad shocked him, Vortex, that time Valerie tortured him in a basement, the- He forcefully shut down the thought. 

He should be fucking used to it by now!

But he was not. Especially not when it came out of nowhere like this. He’d frozen. They could have caught him. Danny could not be caught. Could not. Could not. Could not. 

Shakily he breathed in slowly through his nose and let it out. 

They were going to use electricity again. There was no way they wouldn’t take advantage of a weakness like that. 

He’d lost the cable.

Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

And why did he keep coming back to that! Of all things that should be the least of his worries. It was a good thing. It was. 

It just didn’t feel like it.

Oo o oO

Tim didn’t blame Bruce for letting him take point on this. 

After Jason had pointed a gun at him, he was rightfully shaken. Oh, he pretended not to be, but anyone who knew him could tell. There was a furrow edged on his brow even when he played Brucie whenever someone wasn’t directly interacting with him. He was worried and afraid.

And Tim got it. He had been there for everything. He understood how terrified Bruce was of losing Jason again, just as things had been slowly looking up. Bruce was drawing back, which was for the better. The alternative, that Bruce might come to a point where he thought something needed to be done about Jason, was too terrible to imagine. He would do it too, set aside his emotions, and do something, if he thought it was for the best. None of them needed the fallout of a Bruce who’d convinced himself Jason was too dangerous.

He was dangerous. But, thinking of the broken mirror, bleeding feet and tired eyes, Tim thought he was more dangerous to himself. 

It had been a painful realization to make. Tim had gone to Jason, with the mission in mind, only to find that maybe Jason had needed someone to check up on him for him. But even worse, Tim couldn’t be that person, because they didn’t have that kind of relationship. 

It wasn’t fair.

In an ideal world Tim got to be Jason’s annoying little brother. In an ideal world Tim wouldn’t be afraid of Jason. 

 What Tim could do was solve this issue. He took a deep breath and put all his emotions aside, they could wait. He was a plans guy and they needed a plan.

Tim surveyed the mess of papers he’d made of the table, as he’d pulled everything off the evidence board. It was time to start from the beginning. 

He sorted through and found the “meta?” sign, crossed out the question mark, and hung it in the center of the board. 

In the beginning they’d thought primarily that the Ghost used cloaking tech, but the phasing had made that very unlikely, and Duke had all but confirmed the meta theory when he told them he sorta glowed to his senses. He sorted through the papers and trashed those old theories. 

He put the known powers back up, then paused when he found the little scrap with a silly cartoon ghost Dick had drawn and put up in the corner of the original board. It had eventually gotten covered with something else and Tim hadn’t seen it when he took things down.

Now he considered it with a sigh, and pinned it next to the powers. Ghost was as good a codename as any and Tim suspected it was only Barbara who still refused to use it because Dick was obnoxious about it. And, Tim moved on to the picture of the phone to pin it back up, there was the fact that the recovered messages said nothing but “ghost”. So there was some connection. He marked that connection with a piece of string to the cartoon ghost.

The short contact list went up with the phone picture. 

At some point when this was all over Tim needed to take a closer look at that phone. He had no idea how that brick managed to get any signal, much less how all the contacts were out of service when called from that phone, despite some of them actually being in service. Yet, it could somehow call other existing numbers fine, both local, out of state and international. 

It made no logical sense!

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let it go. 

Danny Fenton? went up above meta, they were reasonably sure that was his name. Next Tim took the list of known thefts and dates and hung it up on the left side of the board. Then added Star Lab break in a bit higher up. There was about three weeks in between the Star Lab break in and their first recorded sighting. It could mean anything. He could have stolen numerous things in the mean time without being discovered, or only just gotten to Gotham. 

Tim had scoured crime reports of Metropolis and other nearby cities for thefts that fitted Ghost’s MO, but had found none, so for better or worse he seemed to be sticking to Gotham for now. 

He put up buyer? And building? Underneath. Tim still had the terrible hunch he was building a portal that would end up destabilizing reality, but since he had nothing but his gut feeling to build that on he couldn’t put it on the board - not the board in the cave anyways.

He trashed a few dead end theories, found a scrap of paper that simply said “electromagnetic interference”. He held it in his hand for a moment, something niggling in his brain, but it was only half formed, he turned around and pinned it under powers and let it go.

Next he pinned up the “weaknesses”. Finally, thanks to Dick’s temper, they had something. He’d not been pleased to come home from his mission to the state of things being even worse so he’d gotten serious and treated the Ghost as an actual threat. 

Tim wrote electricity on a new scrap of paper and then put it under weaknesses. He tapped his chin with the capped marker. The Ghost’s behavior was odd. With the abilities he had, why even play chase with them?

He didn’t use the phasing to escape them early on. It was only when Jason entered the picture that began. Was it because the ability had a limit? Did it cost him to use it? Also what prompted the odd reaction to Jason that first night? And what about it made the Ghost so desperate he’d disappeared on them as soon as Jason was in sight?

Tim grabbed a new scrap of paper and pulled off the cap on the marker. He had to resist the urge to write “Jason” on the scrap, he’d keep that thought to himself, and instead wrote “limit?” And hung it under weaknesses with electricity.

There were more papers on the table. An analysis of the electromagnetic signal he gave off, that Tim had used to reduce noice in their visuals and audio. Pictures of the protein bars and the backpack. A map with every place the thief had disappeared on them marked: aka basically spread all over Gotham. A blood sample readout that was too degenerated for a useable DNA sample. These things didn’t go in the trash, but they weren’t important for capturing the Ghost, instead they went into a folder and put to the side.

Table now clear, Tim noticed his favorite mug full of steaming coffee and a plate of cookies set near the edge. He smiled and rubbed a hand through his hair self consciously. He hadn’t even noticed Alfred had been by, but he was a lifesaver. He would have to thank him later. 

He took the mug and a cookie and sat himself on the table, surveying the evidence board. He sipped the mug savoring the good coffee. It went perfect with the chocolate chip cookie. 

His eyes rested on “electromagnetic signals” again. It had been one of Dick’s early “proofs” that their thief was a ghost - if you subscribed to Ghostbusters lore at least. Tim rolled his eyes. The real reason the ghost couldn’t be a real ghost was that he was visible at all. Only magic users could see ghosts without a spell to make them visible (Something Tim was pretty sure Dick knew). He didn’t actually know whether the electromagnetic disturbance was a real ghost thing, the JLD didn’t need such tools after all when they could see them just fine. And besides if it was it probably wasn’t to the degree the Ghost gave it off. 

Would an EMP do anything? Probably not, since they were convinced the Ghost wasn’t using technology at this point, but a small localized pulse couldn’t hurt to try.

He took another sip of his coffee, contemplating, he needed something better. They could run the Ghost around all they wanted, but unless they stopped that phasing, he would get away every time. 

Jason couldn’t continue staying out of it like this. They’d chased the Ghost once without him and he was worse than a tiger in a cage, and twice as vicious. Tim scoffed, if only they could put the Ghost in a cage-

Tim’s thoughts crashed to a halt. 

No, they couldn’t- it’d never work- but if they- 

He jumped off the table, took three steps, then turned back to put down his mug and cookie. Then hurried over to the where they had the maps. With nimble fingers he sorted through the rolls only barely skimming the tags before discarding and moving to the next. They had to have- Got it! A utility map of the industrial area in Southside Gotham. He grabbed it and hurried back to the table. Unrolling it he placed the mug and the plate to hold down the corners even as he was already scanning the map looking for-

There!

It may be a while until the Ghost hit the area again. And they would need all hands on deck for this and preparations had to be made. But…

Tim smiled. They had a plan.

-

So we've gotten to this point :D Hope you enjoyed it! Comments will keep me warm on my night shift tonight <3

You can subscribe to the story by subscribing to the masterlist

#dp x dc #dead on main #Jason is catnip to Danny #missed connections #The trap is set #watch out Danny

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

the USA is a wild place bc so many people will tell you they plan on owning or already own a gun, sometimes multiple, and when you ask why they'll tell you some absolute bullshit reason. like they'll tell you its to protect their home when they live in an extremely safe suburb and work in financing. its always the most decked out, overexaggerated gun too. also if you ask if they have any training or qualifications the answer is either 1) why would I need that? or 2) I shot rifles at summer camp when I was 12 so that's enough

it gets even weirder because they will judge the shit out of people who actually have a use for guns such as ranchers or people who regularly camp in grizzly bear country. especially if these people get guns to do specific jobs and genuinely do not care about anything beyond simple effectiveness for the particular job. because how dare you have a gun and use it for a purpose that isnt showing off to other people and proving how big and tough you are for being able to incorrectly use a dangerous weapon.

#tw gun mention

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Merlin

The Walls of Camelot by spqr

"Camelot will fall tomorrow,” Arthur says, on the first day of the eighth month of the siege.

DC

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio

Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle:

The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. - (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin-

(01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood-

(01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious.

(01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route-

(01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up.

(01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

we shall be free; we shall find peace by mediant

Clark has accepted what it means to be Lex's prisoner - the pain of the Green, the experiments, the hands on it. The long years buried in its containment cell, let out only to act as Lex's weapon, as Lex's tool. It had fought back at first, but years have ground it down and away to almost nothing.

Then Lex hands it a baby. And Clark realizes that while it may have hurt humans, and lied about what it is, and it may deserve to be locked away - Kon deserves to be free.

Untamed

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (+ podfic)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

-- In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

Clone Wars

patron saint by spqr (+ podfic)

Funerary practices? Master Ti writes back. I’m not sure what you mean, Master Kenobi. Used biomass is the property of Kamino and thus is recycled into the cloning process.

So that’s how the revolution begins—with dead brothers, but not the way you might expect.

Miraculous Ladybug

drowning (in plain sight) by buggachat

Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:

His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.

And now he's missing.

Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.

(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)

#happy saturday!! #i hope everything is having a better weekend than me #i'm sick :(( #my posts #weekly fic round up #fic recs #merlin recs #untamed recs #dc recs #sw recs #ml recs

[howtofightwrite]

Just a casual question: What lightsaber style do you prefer out of one-handed, two-handed, double-bladed or dual wielding?

We’ll leave out the Lightsaber Forms from the EU, because they are inconsistently defined between sources.

No, no, no. You ask me what my favorite lightsaber is, you get the answer whether you want it or not. The answer may surprise you. It’s (probably) considered the second dumbest lightsaber weapon ever invented in the extended universe with the exception of the lightsaber nunchaku.

Are you ready? Do you have your guesses?

The Lightwhip.

The chosen weapon of Dark Ladies of the Sith and the Nightsisters of Dathomir back when the Sisters weren’t all dark side practitioners and rode rancors.

(This is my favorite. For reference, Starke’s favorite is single blade Form IV: Ataru. He’s boring.)

Now, I agree with the general fandom that the lightwhip is a dumb, impractical weapon that’s more likely to dismember its wielder than it is their opponent. Only someone with a high level of skill, prescience, and telekinesis could make effective use of a lightwhip’s dismemberment murder frenzy without killing themselves. Fortunately, that’s exactly the base level of skills most Force sensitives possess. Probably most important, the lightwhip is the exact sort of dumb we see with real weapons in the real world. This includes the more wild examples like the urumi, the chain whip, and the three-section staff. And, it should be said, I have watched living black belts concuss themselves with the three-section staff while trying to figure out how to use it. All for the Rule of Cool. So, while I accept its impracticality, I refuse the argument that the lightwhip being any more unrealistic in use or invention than the rest of the lightsaber weapon family. Does it have a high skill floor? Absolutely. Is it a safe weapon compared to the rest of its very dangerous family? Absolutely not. Would a student potentially dismember or murder themselves learning to use it? Yes, and that’s why it’s fun. (I’ll add a small caveat that the average student could also dismember themselves with a normal lightsaber, so this isn’t just a danger posed by the lightwhip.)

The lightwhip is a weapon of the Dark Side. Its battle style would be (and should be) wild, chaotic, and nigh uncontrollable. There’s no way to use it safely and it belongs in the hands of a wielder who is straight up thrilled to cut down both their allies and enemies in equal measure. This is the weapon of a murderous lunatic in black leather, and gets even more wild when it switches to a Cat o’ Nine to bring on nine weaving laser tendrils instead of just one. The lightwhip is the sexy Catwoman reference that transcends its genre when we really start to think about how intimidating it’d be to see that thing on the battlefield in the hands of a novice and, especially, an expert.

The standard use for a whip in the real world is as a support tool for your primary weapon, such as a rapier. The whip doesn’t do much damage on its own, leaving only small, painful cuts and lacerations so it transitions into a means of harassment. The advantage of the whip is that it attacks at odd, circular angles which are difficult (if not impossible) to block and will curve into a strike around the opposing weapon. The rippling movement makes it difficult to see and even more difficult to predict. If kept in constant motion, this difficulty triples because the disparate movements blend together.

Now, take this setup and add the lightshow. Instead of a weapon that does light lacerations, we have a weapon that deals massive burns if it doesn’t straight up dismember. It will cut through everything and everyone. Conventional fighting styles fall apart against it. More importantly, because it is a burning plasma ribbon, it doesn’t need to follow the standard rules of physics. The lightwhip is beautiful in its raw, chaotic brutality, it’s high risk, high reward nature, and I love the way it hard counters the standard philosophy of lightsaber combat with a literal curveball. Any opponent who faces it is forced into new, creative approaches for their very survival.

Lastly, I love what the lightwhip says about its wielder as an expression of their vicious, ferocious, highly aggressive personality. This weapon requires commitment and dedication. It’s absolutely fair to say the person who wields a lightwhip has a fanatical, if not suicidal, bent. After all, they’d willingly risk death to master it. They love destruction. They don’t care about outside consequences or property destruction. They go it alone.

I’ll admit the lightwhip’s true potential is too violent for most of Star Wars and, like most Star Wars weapons, it very much lives on the Rule of Cool. One of the sadder aspects with the lightwhip is that, while I love the weapon and its potential, any discussion of it gets mired in sexism. Every appearance of the lightwhip comes with the sexy NSFW Dark Side Dominatrix bent and leads to the lightwhip not being given the consideration it’s potential deserves.

My favorite saber is Darth Maul’s saber staff from The Phantom Menace, because versatility allows for use of both one and two. My favorite lightsaber form (which should now surprise no one) is Form VII: Vaapad.

All that said, I do enjoy a good Dark Side Dominatrix as much as I enjoy a moody and hooded Dark Side Goth. And I genuinely love dumb and, seemingly, impractical weapons when the reward justifies their risk. If there’s a general writing advice takeaway here, always consider the practicality of an impractical but cool weapon, address i’s rewards as well as its risks, and pair it with a suitable personality. The lightwhip is not a weapon that belongs in the hands of a Jedi or, really, any individual who possesses any degree of restraint. It’s for a character who merrily expresses raw, raging power at every opportunity and willing to risk destroying themselves along with everyone else for victory.

There’s a weird angle with the Star Wars EU where they tried to establish the lightwhip as weaker than the lightsaber (*cough* woman’s weapon *cough*) with less cutting power even when it doesn’t use a physical cord, which makes absolutely no sense. The lightsaber is the more versatile weapon, while the lightwhip is more specialized and circumstantial. Which fits with the patterns of real world weapons technology.

This a long circle round to saying that the weapons we choose for our characters act as personality tells. Which is why it’s important to give a lot of thought and consideration to any weapon’s historic use and purpose before attaching it. Weapons communicate more than we might expect, both via their situational viability and associated cultural myths. It’s important to choose whether you’ll address this, especially if you’re not planning to intentionally communicate that message or make those personality traits part of the character’s identity. Weapons are tools and, like with all tools, different tools attract different personalities. In fiction, we the authors often decide this from an external perspective. Once a choice has been made, always give yourself a chance to think about it from a character’s internal perspective. Why did Character X choose this weapon? Why do they want to use it? What does this weapon do for them that another weapon doesn’t? Or, what makes that other weapon less attractive?

You might find yourself with an answer or story beat you hadn’t previously considered.

Food for thought.

-Michi

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

#star wars #lightsabers #michi answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #how to fight write

[mistydeyes]

𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽!

click me for asks + requests :)

2k celebration! submit an au/prompt from the list now until halloween :)

requests: open! i am in uni tho so it takes me about 1-2 weeks to answer!

pairings status: closed atm!

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I usually post on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays

izzie's fic recommendations - updated daily!

some things about me :)

the basics: 21, she/her, from the us :)

i'm a second year pharmacy student! also minoring in justice, law, and society

along with writing, i also intern at a perfume company and work at as a pharmacy intern

so naturally my pharmacist series is my absolute favorite to write and research!

𝓶𝔀𝓲𝓲 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 - the full masterlist

don't know where to start? here's a few readers' favorites :) ❤️ - izzie’s favorites

💌 if you want to peek at all of my writings

S E R I E S

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - 141 x pharmacist!reader

all of my works and our pharmacist reader

a panacea❤️ - 141 meets the cure to all their ailments

sick day visit - you prided yourself on never getting sick but the day has finally come. as you’re resting in your quarters, a certain group pays you a visit :)

fake hypochondriac ghost x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - ghost goes to extreme lengths to see his favorite pharmacist

pain-killer fueled thoughts price x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - price landed himself in the medic tent and his pain killers are making him tell the pharmacist his feelings.

keep your weapons hot and bodies hotter (18+) - stripper!141 x fem!reader (codename: Phoenix)❤️

hunk-o-mania 141 edition - feast your eyes on Delilah's Den's newest male dancers

playboy bunny phoenix edition - an unforeseen guest complicates the mission, now you have to get ready to act as the distraction on stage

the joys of civilian life - 141 x civilian!fem!reader

opposite occupations - while on leave, the boys each meet a civilian that makes their time deployed and defending their country worth it

family moments - 141 x fem!reader

little moments and little voices - precious moments you spend in your home with your husband and children :)

oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up - your husband leaves this world too early and now you have to pick up the pieces with your children

secrets and pointed fingers (requested!)❤️ - simon "ghost" riley

behind locked doors - when the 141 thinks you're the mole, they make sure to extract the information in whatever way possible

empty apologies and avoiding glances - when you return back to base, everything is far from normal

half empty glasses and unchanging perspectives - you try to run away from the trauma at the pub but with a glass in hand, simon finds you

O N E - S H O T S

odd hobbies - 141 x reader everyone has their own hobbies, yours are just unique to 141’s perspective

butterfly effect - 141 x fem!reader they say "a butterfly flaps its wings in the amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of europe." what once was a silly quote now has implications as one action leads to your death.

opposite of a meet cute❤️ - 141 x civilian!reader most people have a cute story as to how they met their significant other but yours is a little more eccentric

V I S U A L S + R A N D O M

random things in pockets and bags❤️ SERIES - what does the 141 carry on them when they’re on leave?

pt i- kyle “gaz” garrick

pt ii - simon "ghost" riley

pt iii - johnny "soap" mactavish

pt iv - john price

E X P L A I N S my series of explaining the various timeline's of the games and characters

simon "ghost" riley's backstory

which modern warfare game should i play first?

some writings from the inbox

medication mixup - the medic unknowingly prescribing you a penicillin has disastrous results due to your allergy

141’s dossier - see what the dossiers laswell gets at the end of mw 2019 looks like! + template

ghost’s doppelgänger - how does the 141 and los vaqueros react to you joining the team? their reactions are even better when you share an uncanny resemblance with ghost

running mascara - 141 x fem!reader harsh words are said and you try your best to run away from the cause. however, everyone needs to face the issue eventually and now the 141 is left to pick up the pieces. initially part of my 1k celebration but i added a sequel as it was highly requested! PART I and PART II

mw2 x reader - my ongoing series of pairing y'all up and writing a short lil blurb about how you met and your relationship

izzie’s 1K celebration! - closed now :) but feel free to look and see some of the prompts + how i answered them

𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

#tag list #masterlist

[wishluc]

I love yandre himeko thou what about kafka thou??😍😍

Literally insane about her it's crazy

A Stellaron Hunter has no business in the Space Station, as far as you're aware.

But it's not like you can go anywhere with Kafka's gun under your chin, her pink eyes looking up at you with unabashed interest. The contrasting sensations of cold metal and her burning gaze sends your heart faltering, your mind spinning as you try to come up with a way to escape the situation.

"Now, my dear," Kafka's smooth voice sends shivers down your spine, and she grins, clearly having noticed the effect she has on you and taking great delight in it, "no need to be so rash. Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

You gulp, watching closely as her eyes narrow, "Uhm, Miss…" Your tongue falters mid-sentence, terror tightening its grip on you as Kafka pushes her weapon into your skin, as though to serve as a reminder, "I don't have access to—"

"Shh," she whispers, slowly withdrawing her gun. Just when you thought you could finally relax your tense figure, she swiftly grabs you by the waist and spins you around, slamming your face up against the wall, wrists held behind your back. Your gasp echoes through the room, but Kafka merely chuckles, "My apologies. I need to take certain precautions, as I'm sure you'll understand. Though if we're being honest, I don't mind your fight. It's what I like about you, your resolve, your determination…you're a clever little thing, aren't you?"

"And please, call me Kafka. We have more than enough time to get acquainted with each other, don't we?"

You only manage to wheeze out a few words before Kafka shushes you again, "I don't have—"

"That's perfectly alright," Her voice is still light, her tone airy, like your current predicament was just a normal occurrence for her, "I don't need any of that."

Then, with a steady hand pushing against the small of your back with unexpected force, you feel her other hand dig into your pocket. Your shuffling and twisting do nothing to slow her exploration, as she finally pulls out your ID card (although you couldn't see her, you could swear that she had a triumphant smile on her face).

"[Name]…a researcher, I see? How interesting. How long have you been working here, darling?"

"3 years now," you focus on your trembling fingers, ignoring the way they grazed Kafka's skin whenever you tried to stretch them out.

"Are you interested a change in careers, by any chance? I have a wonderful opportunity for you. Though…" she trails off, as if internally contemplating something, "I wouldn't want any of my companions getting too close to you either…"

You're not sure if her question warrants an answer, especially considering the clear fact that a researcher like you has no place among the criminals of the Stellaron Hunters.

"Or not," she chuckles, "maybe," she brings her lips right to your ear, and you go absolutely still, too afraid to even breathe, and then she lowers her voice, "you'd like to be my pet instead?"

You don't even have the time to process her words before she's laughing to herself, a soft, lovely sound that worms its way into your soul, "just kidding, of course."

You're not sure what to make of this woman, except for the fact that she was probably half-mad. And you were going to be stuck with her longer if nobody came in to help, and who knew what she'd do to you then?

"How about this?" Kafka's grip on your wrists loosens, and she instead goes to hold your shaking fingers, gently squeezing them in her hands, "I have work to do here, unfortunately, so we'll have to part ways. But I promise you that I'll find a way to come see you again, so then…You'll come to greet me, won't you?"

You nod, wordlessly, and she finally steps away, allowing you to turn around and come face-to-face with her. She's smiling, just as dangerous and as beautiful as when you first saw her, her eyes glimmering with something you can only identify as amusement, and she holds, in between gloved fingers, your ID card.

"Good," she looks you over one last time, pocketing the card, "I won't forget, darling. So you keep your end of the deal too, alright?"

You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak, and she begins to walk away, stopping at the door. Her head turns ever so slightly, her piercing gaze directed right at you as she utters her parting words, "I'll see you soon."

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

#[100% Self Indulgent but hey you really wouldn't want to be threatened by Kafka? Just me?] #[So obsessed with her that it's concerning] #yandere x reader drabble #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere kafka x reader #yandere kafka #asa.writes 🌀 #honkai star rail. 🌀 #kafka. 🌀 #mail. 🌀 #cw yandere #drabble. 🌀 #drabble request v01. 🌀 #requested work. 🌀

[tavshortfortavern]

Imagine: Tav is about to face a near cerntain death battle. There's a high chance they're not coming back from this even with their allies present. Before they run into the fray with their companions, they keep turning back to the person they have feelings for but never showed it for reasons and just decides to go "fuck it" and pulls them in for a kiss. After they pull away they don't wait for the other party to get a word in before running off. Now with less regrets incase they don't make it.

Zevlor

At first regretted they couldn't head in with you but knows you and your companions are the only ones capable of defeating the incoming threat

Is there to wish you luck and give a few words if encouragement but he's internally scared and worried you'll never come back

But then you keep looking back at him and it looks like you desperately want to say something

"Is something wrong? Do you need-" you curse and apologise in the same breath before there's a hand on his cheek and soft lips on his own

Mentally blanks before settling into the kiss. He's in shock but his shoulders relax like usual whenever Tav is speaking to them. He's chasing your lips the moment you pull away but all you mutter is "I'm sorry but gods I've been wanting to do that."

You leave quickly. He's calling your name but you're gone by then to fight the unthinkable

You've effectively left a mess of him. Now he's not just worried for your safety, his mind is spiralling with all different thoughts. It feels like it came out of nowhere. Were his brief looks and feelings actually returned?

What do you mean you've wanted to do that? How long? Was he even worthy of a kiss? What did you see in him? Questions, questions and no answers to them.

If he wanted you to come back before he's absolutely praying for your victory. He needs to see you again but also terrified. He has no idea what he's going to say.

Almost follows after you then but either more people need protecting on his side or he knows he'll get in the way and make things worse.

Just please come back.

Rolan

Picture this, he's there with a rare expression of worry and even rarer words of encouragement. Hes not usually like this with most people.

Their local hero off to save the day again. But even he's worried. This looks serious. Something even out of your league. As you both stare at the battle ahead your suddenly turn to him with an odd expression.

Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the way forward. Of course he's running his mouth asking why you looked like that until it's eventually shut by you grabbing his collar.

He's baffled as you kiss him before pulling away with your typical annoying smile that not just infuriates him but does something else to him he can't pinpoint.

"You're cute when you're flustered." was the explanation before bounding off as if you weren't about to possibly die.

You've left him speechless, staring at your retrating form with a massive blush on his face. Its interrupted by the sound of cheering in the back. His siblings were passing around some money having placed bets.

"Why are you so surprised? They've been flirting with you since they got to the city." "They have not!" "They literally told us they thought you were cute after helping again." "They WHAT"

You were more obvious when it came to flirting with him. Everyone saw when you eagerly walked up to him at Sorcerous Sundries. When you paused noticing that state he was in. When you touched his bruised cheek and asked in a controlled tone "Who did this." That same day his abusive mentor was brutally murdered.

He's grappling with the revelation that you were interested the whole time and his siblings teasing him for being so oblivious

There's definitely an incoming rant in your future if you do survive. But he'll be lost in thought the whole time. Mind returning back to that moment you kissed him, how you look, how it felt. Before violently snapping out of it.

Dammon

Is there to see you off with a new weapon or armor to help you in the fight ahead. He's got full faith in you and your companions. You've done so much already.

You stand there, gripping the gifted item with conflicted thoughts. You've liked him for a while now, perhaps even more but kept quiet for mutliple reasons. In different circumstances you would never entertain just kissing him without permission. But there was a high chance this would be your end this time. And this thought won't leave you. Did you want to leave with regrets?

Your reckless nature and selfishness is at war with your manners (and possibly noble upbringing if thats what you chose) who will win: the free spirited adventurer or the honorable hero?

Time is ticking and there are precious few seconds before danger comes. Adrenaline kicks in and the literal fear of death pushes you to pull him in for a kiss guiltily.

Its desperate and doesn't last for more than a couple of seconds. The typical the world is ending and i might die soon type of kiss. Dammon is frozen, not expecting this. Your not surprised to feel warmth. Besides your self conscious and sense of propriety screaming at you, another voice in your head cheers

"sorry. I've always wanted to- uh a kiss for goodluck?" you pulled away and stammered out. He looked at a loss and adorable with a bronze blush. Equal parts of shame and urgency to face the fight has you running away as fast as your legs could carry you.

You couldn't help the adrenaline high as you ran ahead. No regrets would plague you this time. Going out with a kiss was one of the better ways to go right?

While you were focused on other matters, Dammon was left holding his mouth and staring at your retreated form. Face warm for a long while. He'll have to be there thinking on your actions and words.

You've always wanted to? Was it really just a spur in the moment or something more. Now you had to come back, if just to resolve this plaguing his mind. Its a harder time focusing on whatever work he had.

It seems like he spends a lot of time in thought. He'll be over analysing all your interactions. Wondering what he missed. Did he want something with you? Has to put down his tools to think about it. He'll be so awkward next time you meet, flushed but wanting to talk.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 zevlor #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #tav x zevlor #tav x rolan #tav x dammon #first time writing for this fandom #just wanted to let some ideas out #might do the companions next idk i just love these three

[huggingtentacles]

Alright you just beat Elden Ring. Congratulations! You're now one of the cool folks who can actually beat the game, and you're not ready to put it down yet.

Maybe PvP intimidates you and you just wanna explore the world again. You may try a new build sure, but now that you know more about the game, you might wanna try something different, like a challenge run.

"huggingtentacles I am trash at the game there is no way I could do any of the cool runs, I died to Radagon a bazillion times"

NO, You are good enough to try any challenge run! You can define what a challange is for yourself! There is no need to jump into something insane like a rune level 1 run or a torch only run. You can set any restriction you want, and completing the game with an additional challange is immensely more satisfying (and gives you bragging rights)

There are many different challange runs all varying in difficulty. Here are the runs that I've done personally.

Easy:

Region Lock Run — the premise is simple, you can't leave the region you are in unless you best the major boss(es) of that region. You can't go to Liurnia untill you beat Margit, you can't go to Altus untill you beat Rennala, etc. This run is fun because you can't skip over progression (like killing the Caelid dragon early with bleed to be overlevelled for Limgrave) which makes every fight feel appropriately difficult.

Starting Class Run — Only use the gear you start the game with. You can level up and upgrade your weapons and flask, but you can't use any other consumables and talismans you didn't start the game with. This run is quite flexible in difficulty because whether you choose to, say, use ashes of war or different spells or even golden seeds is ultimately up to you. All of them count.

No spirit summons — for some this is just the normal Elden Ring run, but for most it's a challange. While it can be somewhat difficult, not having spirit summons still leaves you with enough options to steamroll through the game if you. The challenge comes from actually learning the bosses and their patterns and engaging with combat more.

No status effects — As simple as it sounds. Perhaps you used to crutch on bleed, frost, rot or poison, now you can't. There are plenty of other very powerful damage options in the game, so the run is definitely not very hard, it only limits your arsenal somewhat.

Spells only/melee only — depending on what your previous run was. If you're used to standing behind and throwing pebbles, picking up a weapon might be a fun new challenge. And if you are used to your Big Sword, it's gonna be kinda hard to adjust to managing your FP and putting together a build.

Medium:

Spirit Summons Only — moderately difficult because it requires rather extensive knowledge of the game's mechanics. The basic premise is that you can only deal damage using spirit summons. You can restrict it to bosses only or to the whole run in general. It's an absolutely hilarious run. The AI built into the game can beat the entire game for you. Including the hardest endgame bosses like Malenia. Also playing as a support, healing and buffing your summons is really fun :)

No Crimson Flask — LISTEN. I swear it's not that hard. Yes it sucks a bit in the early game, but there are so many tools and options available to completely replace your flask with regen and heal spells. Just level up your vigor. This run is incredibly fun and it's good if you are aiming for harder runs in the future but aren't sure if you have it in you. I know you do ;)

Taunter's Tongue Run — Definitely my FAVOURITE of all of them. Its incredibly simple: you get Taunter's Tongue as soon as you get access to Roundtable Hold and you turn it on forever. Fight invaders alone or with a friend in 2v2s. If you don't have any PvP experience, this is one of the ways to learn. By the end of it, you won't be half bad at PvP, trust me (unless you just run away all the time which is also an option)

Hard:

Rune Level 1 is such a difficult run to do, but the cultural legacy of Fromsoft "no leveling up" runs makes the completion of it so desirable. Completing this run basically makes you part of the small section of people who actually know how to fight every single boss without relying on cheap tactics and cheese. You learn how to counter every move most enemies make because of how unforgiving it is.

But what's more fun is the sheer variety. Stat boosting gear is so common in this game you can literally use almost anything you want as a weapon.

Permadeath — If you die, you restart. Use any tools at your disposal to survive, play it safe, level up your vigor. But most importantly, brace for setbacks. Restarting because of a dumb mistake sucks, but that's why it's such an impressive run to complete. If you can take a loss on Elden Beast and make it to the inside of the Erdtree again, you will achieve one of the hardest challanges ER has to offer.

An easier variation of Permadeath would be "no rune loss" run. There are tools the game gives you to avoid losing runes, but it's still a very difficult run.

Torch Only Run — You pick up a standard torch from Church of Elleh and you use it to Kill God.

An easier variation would be Torches Only run which allows you to use the entire arsenal of torches. Still a very difficult run that requires a lot of skill to beat.

Impossible:

No Thinking About Kissing Malenia run — still working on this one. Can't figure it out. If you have advice please DM me

Feel free to add more challange run ideas!

#elden ring #shitpost #elden ring pvp #invader talk #elden ring invasions #elden ring challange runs