Dumb sci-fi premise #137: The Earth is contacted by a galactic federation of planets, but there’s a problem: it’s literally a federation of planets. Its members are all planetary-scale hive minds, and non-hive-mind species aren’t ordinarily admitted. The Earth, however, presents an unprecedented exception: it’s the first and only known case of a non-hive-mind species artificially constructing a planetary consciousness. Earth’s inhabitants are understandably quite confused, as we aren’t aware of constructing any such thing – until it becomes clear that federation ambassador is in fact talking about the Internet.
(Ultimately, the Internet is granted galactic citizenship. The legal status of individual humans takes some figuring out, since humans are necessary for the Internet’s emergent consciousness to exist, but don’t directly participate in it in the same way that members of a hive-mind species do. Eventually a consensus is reached to classify individual humans under a term that probably should be translated as “service animal”, but for diplomatic reasons is not.)
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There’s just something about Tartaglia being one of the most dangerous people alive in Teyvat and he is just a sucker for corny and wacky shit? He wants his darling to feed him with *her* chopsticks, he also wants to have baths with her while she shampooes his hair -something about how he likes when she scratches his scalp.
Makes you wonder about his parents relationship…
childe is literally the definition of "i hate him... but i love him... but i hate him... but i love h—"
it'd be these constant juxtapositions in his behavior that makes it impossible for you to place him. you've seen childe, the 11th harbinger, who basks in bloodshed and the glory found in battle. then there's tartaglia, a playful man with a penchant for lighthearted teasing. you don't know what to make of him and it's frustrating. he knows it too, plays right into your confusion. keeping you constantly on your toes serves him well.
it means that during the times he is agreeable, you're more willing to put up with him. at least he's not being sardonic and brooding. there's refuge to be found in moments like that. when your life is as turbulent as he's made it, you come to treasure whatever peace you can get. so you go along with him. if he can act like nothing is wrong, like your relationship is normal, than maybe you can too.
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omg maybe a blurb of something that happened before, she got emotional drunk or something and told him how she’s been hurt before
groupie!reader gets hurt in the past!!
Everyone’s running around backstage as Harry hits the last note for the night, and the fans scream louder than they already were, watching as he runs towards the stairs where his security guard is waiting for him.
She’s sitting on a gigantic box, arms folded in front of her as she watches people run around like Harry’s some God and he’s getting ready to bless them with his presence. Jeff walks with Tommy in tow, stacks of paper in hand as he talks about the next show, and Harry Lambert is helping the assistant stylist as he sews one of Harry’s ripped trousers he was supposed to wear tonight.
She watches everyone quietly.
Until there’s some shuffling coming from the end of the corridor, so she turns her head towards it, and watches Harry jog over to her with a security guard following close behind.
“Get me some whiskey,” he says, briefly stopping by the box she’s seated on. “And find me, okay?” He nods, and starts walking again before she can even open her mouth.
It’s only been four months of their arrangement, and every night spent on the road has shown something different and adventurous to her. Since they didn’t get to spend one-on-one time every night, she had plenty of time to herself to just roam the streets or tag along to Harry Lambert as he went on an adventure of his own in the streets. Sure, she wasn’t the only girl Harry saw, though not having a job and other responsibilities back home–unlike the other two of his girls–meant being on the road non-stop or, as long as she wanted.
Like the good girl she is, she finds a few bottles of whiskey in the dressing room, and quietly steals two bottles as the others chatted away, and leaves the room without looking back despite the curious gaze of Harry’s band.
At last, she finds him, in one of the extra dressing rooms, and she locks the door, putting the whiskey next to him on the dressing table as he quietly scrolls through his phone, torso naked as a pair of joggers hug his thighs.
“What’s the occasion,” she says, nodding at the whiskey bottles.
“Nothing, really. Just wanted to get rat-arsed since I don’t have shows for the rest of the week.”
She nods, still on her feet as she waits for him to look up at her.
Instead, he grabs one of the bottles, and opens it, pouring it into the glasses that were already there.
“Is one ice okay?” Harry asks this time, motioning at the glasses.
She nods. He does, too, motioning at the glasses so she takes hers.
She walks over to the old green, leather sofa, and sits on the edge, watching Harry as they both sip from their glasses slowly.
Slowly, but surely, they get there, with both of them now tipsy as Harry talks about that one time he almost got someone pregnant–at least that’s how he remembers the story going–.
“You’re pulling my leg,” she says, reaching to open the second bottle. Harry laughs, then bites his bottom lip, making her groan. “Stop– you’re telling me you seriously ‘almost’ got someone pregnant?”
“Turns out she was taking the piss– to make fun of me in front of my mates. I was fifteen”
“Gross. I hate that shit.”
“–I went out with a girl once,” she murmurs into her glass. Her chest feels heavy with the statement, so she wishes she’d let him change the subject.
Harry is now looking at her, really looking, and he nods, as if to let her know he’s listening.
She clears her throat. “I think that was when I first liked… someone, y’know? I was seventeen, didn’t know much about love or relationships but– I think I was in love or some shit.”
“What happened,” Harry asks.
“Turns out I was just an experiment. Went and dated my best mate. Looking back, he was also a twat anyway,” she tries to joke, though there’s something in the back of her throat, making her feel all choked up.
Harry nods, and the look in his eyes becomes softer. “You deserve better people in your life.”
“I know,” she nods. “It’s just. I trusted her. She was the first girl I ever– ever liked. Loved. And then she just took all that away from me. I felt– so insignificant. So shitty. Disgusting. She went behind my back while I went around telling people how happy she made me and how much I loved her. It felt like– it felt like I was living in a big, fat lie. And– and I was.”
“Fab… you know you deserve better, right?”
“Deep down, yes,” she chuckles into her glass, taking another sip. “I’m trying, though,” she gives him a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m really trying.”
Harry smiles. “I’m proud of you.”
It makes her laugh. “You don’t even know me!”
“I do. Sort of,” Harry muses, reaching for his glass. “Known you for four months. That means something.”
She watches as he gets up from his seat, and walks over to her. He raises his arms, though they fall again, and instead, he reaches and places his hand on her neck, thumbing at the vein there. She smiles as he strokes her skin there, and it almost feels like a hug, like a promise, and even if it’s not, she lets herself bask in it, thinking it means more than it actually is.
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landshark designs i did for friends!
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“Yeah? It feels good?”
You squeal in response, biting down on your lip and squinting your eyes in sheer pleasure.
“Use your words angel.” Chris grunts out, beginning to fuck deeper into you.
The feeling of him hitting your cervix with every thrust, mixed with the sound of his grunts and the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin sends you to the edge.
“Ple-ease, please, fuck I’m gonna cum, please!” You cry out, your fingernails digging into his wrists that were wrapped around your thighs.
“Oh baby. Cum on it. Cum for me, make a mess all over this fucking cock.” Hitting deeper and faster, grinding upwards at the end of each thrust, you began to spasm around his cock, body shuddering with each one.
“Oh god, fuck that’s it. I can feel you fucking squeezing me,” Chris moaned, slowly fucking into you with the same sharp hit at the end, savouring the feeling of your orgasm around him, “Feels so good angel, pulsing around my cock like that.”
Shivering and whimpering as he stopped to feel the last pulses, you wound your hips up against him ever so slightly.
“Such a good girl for me. Making a mess all over me like that,” as he pulled out to the tip, you winced at the lewd sound of your sex, audible wetness as he thrust straight back in back at the same pace, “Now be a doll and take my fucking cum.”
Can i be this 🌙 emoji? I love you and I wanna share these always!
Im sweating rn let me just reread this a few times so I have a dream about it tonight dhsjsjsjs OK COME THRU WITH THE FILTH! I love this holy fuck!
The praise and the encouragement and the roughness…break my fuckin back daddy ughhh!
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Some lil quick concepts for the world of Sverenne.
The Black Tree (home of Levehethen).
The White Ruins (home of Achtbenatu/entrance to The Shadow Realm)
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Kid grabbing Mins guitar to sing him “I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you... bitch”
STOP! I love this lmao. He's like finger plucking away, sounding beautiful, and she just snatches that bitch and *obnoxious strum*
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let's just stay at home. susan ryder / anna valdez / karoliina hellberg / lachlan goudie
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isn't it lovely when people ask each other "how did you sleep?"? like wow someone cares about me enough to want even my daily unconscious hours to be nice? how did you sleep? well, i hope. i hope you're always well
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some simple but happy things
discovering new music
browsing a bookstore
visiting the library
watching the sunset
going on a road trip and listening to lots of music!
feeling excited about something
buying new stationery :)
seeing the full moon
reading an interesting book
going to the beach!!
walking into a bakery and smelling the scent of warm bread
going to bed after a long day
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i just adore the concept of a romance with a ghost. falling in love with a person who’s barely a person at all. the inherent tragedy of it. something both impermanent and immortal. u know it’s sure to be a doomed dalliance, but you love this dead thing anyway
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Concept: magical girl series that initially looks like it’s going to take a grim twist, with the whole team getting brutally (but bloodlessly) massacred in their very first monster fight – but then the team leader wakes up the next morning perfectly fine and is like “dude, what the FUCK”.
Whereupon the cute animal sidekick is like: “Oh, when you ‘transform’ we transport your human body to the astral plane and replace it with a magical construct that your mind operates remotely. You were never in any real danger – didn’t you read the orientation manual?”
Our hero is obliged to admit that she did not, in fact, read the orientation manual.
After taking a moment to process, the protagonist asks the question that’s surely on every viewer’s mind: “If my powered up form is a drone, does that mean I can customise it?”
The rest of the series is basically a lighthearted combination of recurring fashion montages with increasingly outlandish customised bodies and the team abusing their conditional immortality to do stupid hold-my-beer stunts while the animal sidekick frets about the budget.
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would scaramouche have any pet names for his darling?? doesn’t matter if they’re condescending or not haha—
i've given this so much thought. maybe too much thought. i’ll split this into two sections. the first being just regular english stuff and the second my attempt to understand japanese linguistics.
(english terms focus)
the conclusion that i've come to is that scaramouche would only use pet names if you were in deep trouble — so it'd be spoken in a condescending tone. you know nothing good is going to happen when you hear scaramouche call you "darling" or "dear".
(japanese terms focus)
on a regular basis, he'd refer to you as anata (or あなた), which directly translates to english as you. however, just seeing that, people whose first language is english and come from western spheres might not understand the full scope of what this means. it’s a pretty intimate way to refer to someone and reserved exclusively for close relationships. since inazuma is based on japan, i'll assume the general cultural stuff applies here. so this is the best you're going to get from him really. he either refers to you as that, or just your first name with no honorifics. the first time you meet him you'd probably be taken aback by how rude this behavior is if you're from inazuma, since he just starts calling you [First] right off the bat like you’re old pals. who does this guy think he is?? no manners, smh.
when you’re making trouble for him though, you get demoted down to kimi (君), which is how people would normally address someone in a lower position. it’s how he refers to the traveler, for example. bad news. it’s a reminder of his status over you, both as a harbinger and your husband.
from what i've heard in the japanese dub of genshin, scaramouche uses honorifics like -san in a sarcastic way. referring to traveler tabibito-san with that little infuriating smirk. so you'd get hit with a [First]-san if you’re screwed (maybe embarrassed him in public?). he’s most inclined to say this if you’re in the company of others, since they wouldn’t know him well enough to understand how grave this is for you. it’s a secret that you unwittingly get to share together. if anything, the other fatui might be like wow, i’ve never seen scaramouche be so polite to someone. this [First] person must be special. if only they knew.
so basically, to recap sparknotes style:
green light (safe) - anata
yellow light (warning) - kimi
red light (pick an archon and pray) - [First]-san
(i avoid delving into this in my fics since it's kinda complicated and i don't really know the best way to make it Flow since english doesn’t have the same formal and informal uses of “you”. so this just goes on in my head and sits around).
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sometimes I simply forget that I'm actually a concept & game artist and that I have the power of making my own boss fight concepts.
So I made two concepts for a 2-stage Donna boss fight! She deserves some time to shine
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Imagine daddy Oscar and daddy Chris eating your pussy and taking turns and like swapping out every once and awhile like you’d reallyyyyyyy need a bucket and a mop skskskksksksks those men loveeeeeeee their whole faces wet 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 no one can change my mind
OSCAR AND CHRIS?! R.I.P
Both of them with those damn beards and shit I would simply pass awayyyyy! They’d wanna drown in it and that’s facts, you’ve stated facts anon!
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harry massaging your back in the hotel room after a long day, just in his robe..
He's practically on top of you, knees on each side as he keeps kneading and kneading, his hands all warm and soft across your back. You let out a soft whine when he finds your problematic spot and he chuckles, thumb pressing harder before he leans forward and presses a kiss on the back of your neck.
"I should be massaging you," you mumble, words coming out all muffled from the pillow that's pressed to your face.
He understands you, though.
"I'm happy to do this," he murmurs back, hands going to your shoulders as he massages them. "Plus, you've given me two orgasms. You deserve this, baby."
"That sounds wrong– like it's a transaction."
"Y'know it's not."
"Hey," he stops massaging, and comes to lay beside you on the bed, robe now open. He looks divine. "I love you," he says, coming closer to press a sweet kiss on your nose.
"I love you."
"You do so much for me," another kiss is pressed to your cupid's bow. "And work so hard," he whispers, breath hitting your lips. "You deserve more and more. More than my awful massages."
"No way, I love your massages," you chuckle, closing your eyes. It feels peaceful. Like you just belong there, in this moment, despite the location.
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"She could take the quieter side streets with narrower sidewalks, and she could linger over a pretty view if she wanted." (last night at the telegraph club, malinda lo) rene wiley / tomoko hara / heikala / mike kowalski
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Hotch’s tum appreciation post.
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productive things to do that aren’t studying
make your bed
take a shower
do some journaling
exercise/take a walk
try a new recipe to make for lunch
tidy your room
listen to a podcast
declutter your phone and laptop
read a book
take a break (taking breaks are productive!!)
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