#it was driving me nuts trying to figure out what this opening bit was in reference to

[sethsclearwater]

request: “could you write a poly embry, paul, and reader oneshot where embry is feeling left out or insecure because he’s not as outgoing or popular as paul and doesn’t get why you love him too and reader comforts him?? i love the angst and drama 🤭 thanks for all u do for the twilight fandom 💕” and “could you do a poly!paulxreaderxembry smutty imagine where embry feels like he isn’t good enough for reader and she shows him how much she loves him and paul walks in at the end like ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ and reader is just a giggling mess and spends the rest of the day cuddling with her boys?”

warnings: smut, dom-ish!embry, sub-ish!reader (rip paul - no smut for him lmao)

word count: 2.14k

…

you and paul had spent the prior evening at a friend’s house party while your other imprinter, embry, was on patrol. the three of you had managed to work out your polyamorous relationship without too much of a hitch and all seemed to be going well. the three of you had moved into an apartment together and you loved that you were able to spend even more time with the two of them than you had before. 

the morning following your night out, you woke up to both boys’ sides of the bed to be empty which was quite unusual. as you woke yourself up, you opened your phone to see a text from paul letting you know that he was on patrol but nothing from embry.

“embry,” you called softly, figuring he must’ve just gotten up at some point during the night. sure enough, your other imprinter stepped into the room a moment later, looking a bit defeated to say the least.

you frowned when you saw his expression, “‘s wrong?” you murmured, crawling over to the edge of the bed to take his hands and tug him over to you. 

“‘s nothing.” he reassured, giving your hands a soft squeeze and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your head. 

you shook your head, “c’mere,” you encouraged, tugging him down so you could lay down with him. he obliged, laying back down in the bed and allowing you to curl into his side, “you gonna tell me what’s on your mind?” you asked softly, running your hand up and down his bare abdomen soothingly as you patiently waited for his response. 

of your two imprinters, embry was definitely the more quiet of the two, always needing a bit of extra coaxing to get him to talk to you about what was on his mind. 

he let out a heavy sigh, running his free hand through his hair as he squeezed you closer to him with his other hand, clearly trying to think of how to answer your question, “i just don’t know why you love me sometimes.” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper as he admitted his feelings to you.

you frowned at that, shifting a bit so you could get a better look at him, “why would you think that?” you asked softly, sliding your hand up to his face to gently cup at his jaw, rubbing soothing circles against the skin there as you allowed him a moment to think about his response.

he sighed again, “i don’t know,” he murmured, “i just see you with paul, and you two work so well together,” he said softly before adding, “and we do too but it’s not the same, you know? like he just always has something to bring you to or someone for you to meet and i never do.” 

“oh em,” you cooed, “i’m sorry.” you whispered, sliding your hand down to his bicep to hug him. embry quickly reciprocated the action, both of you holding each other close for a few breaths as you processed his confession to you. 

“you know that’s why i love you, right?” you asked softly after a moment, peeking up at him and offering him a small smile, “i love that you don’t go out as much as he does. paul would drive me nuts if it was just the two of us.” you giggled and embry let out a breathy laugh at your comment, “you’re great whenever i wanna stay in - paul is not.” you giggled again, “i think it’s perfect.” you added, smiling softly at him.

embry noticeably relaxed a bit at your reassurance, shoulders dropping as he hugged you closer to him, pressing his lips to your hair for a moment, “i love you.” he murmured and you giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.

“i love you too em,” you reassured, peeking up at him when he loosened his grip on you, “have you talked to paul about it yet?” you asked softly and he nodded, letting out another soft sigh.

“he said i should talk to you about it.” he explained, threading his fingers through your hair soothingly.

you nodded, “well for once in his life he was right,” you said, both of you letting out breathy laughs at your comment, “you wanna do a movie day today?” you asked softly before adding, “it’s horrible outside.” 

he nodded, a small smile on his face, “that sounds nice.” he murmured, pausing for a moment before adding, “thank you.” 

you smiled, “anything for my big guy,” you giggled, rolling over so you were straddling his waist, “so you gonna let me show you how much i love you?” you asked softly, a teasing smile on your face as you sat up, running your fingers down his bare abdomen to his sweatpants, dancing your fingers along the thin waistband as you waited for his response. 

he let out a breathy laugh, nodding, “that’d be nice.” he whispered and you beamed at him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips before sitting back up to pull your shirt up and toss it to the side.

lucky for you, paul had made quite a scene the night before after railing you in the bathroom after you two returned from the party, insisting that you went to bed in nothing but his t-shirt. embry also seemed pleased at this discovery, quickly sliding his hands up your sides before settling at your breasts where he quickly palmed them in his hands, taking your nipples between his fingers and teasingly rolling them.

you let out a low moan at the sensation, subconsciously squeezing your legs against embry, “such a pretty little thing,” embry murmured as you threw your head back, moaning as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, chuckling when he saw the way you were already dripping a combination of both yours and paul’s releases from the night before.

he slid his hands down to your waist, about to move to roll on top of you before you stopped him, sliding your hands down your sides to rest on top of his, “wanna ride you.” you whispered and he sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment before nodding.

you giggled at his reaction, knowing how much he loved having you ontop. you were generally what many would call a ‘pillow princess’ and rarely offered to ride either one of your imprinters. paul was generally the only one who could get you to do it, usually only coaxing you into it when he refused to let you cum any other way so your offer was more than a welcome surprise for embry.

“you want my fingers first?” embry asked softly, eyes softening at he looked up at you and patiently waited for your response.

you shook your head, lifting your hips to you could slide your fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants, gently tugging his cock up to free it from its restraints which had embry letting out a low groan. “already stretched out from last night,” you explained and embry chuckled softly, lifting his hips a bit to kick his sweatpants to the side so you could have better access to him.

“go slow then, okay? i don’t wanna hurt you.” he asked softly and you giggled, rolling your eyes as you lifted your hips to line him up with your entrance. you completely ignored embry’s instructions, immediately sinking all the down on his cock which had both of you letting out groans as you connected, “fuck-” embry groaned as you rolled your hips against his in an attempt to accommodate him. 

you let out a small whimper as you accommodated his length, always managing to forget that he had more girth than paul which regularly came to bite you in the ass in situations like these, “you have no idea how good you feel right now,” embry groaned, tightening his grip on your hips to hold you in place, “feels okay?” he asked breathlessly after a moment, clearly doing his best to not cum from you just sliding down his cock.

you nodded, letting out an exhale before responding, “you feel so good.” you murmured, “can you help me?” you asked softly and he nodded, already knowing what you meant as he lifted your hips up, helping you set a steady rhythm of rolling your hips against his, steadily sliding up and down his length. 

“fuck em-” you whimpered, placing your hands on his abdomen in an attempt to steady yourself as you felt yourself getting dizzy from all the pleasure coursing through your system. embry let out a breathy laugh, dropping his thumb to press against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, smiling to himself when you let out a loud moan as he started rubbing slow, tight circles against the nub.

“that’s my girl,” embry murmured, letting out a low groan when your walls fluttered around him at his words, “you gonna cum on my cock?” he asked, knowing how ridiculously paul had your head fucked up with asking to cum before coming undone on either of the boys. 

you nodded, “can i?” you whimpered, letting out a low whine when he thrust his hips up to meet yours, sending a sharp wave of pleasure up your spine.

“go ahead,” embry encouraged, “you feel so good babe,” he added, knowing how much you loved the positive praise from him, something paul rarely did with you. 

the lewd moans you were letting out usually would’ve had you concerned you’d be waking the neighbors up, but you couldn’t have cared less at this point. the only thing on your mind was cumming as quickly as you possibly could.

so when embry rolled your clit between his fingers, you were quick to fall right over the edge to your orgasm, throwing your head back as you let out a loud moan. the way you pulsed around embry had him cumming right after you, embry let out a loud groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he spilled into you. 

he slowed you hips, allowing you to fully sink down on his length as the two of you came down from your highs, “c’mere,” embry murmured before he pulled you down so you could lay down on him, “such a good girl,��� he whispered, running his hands up and down your back soothingly. 

you took a couple deep breaths with him, both of you relaxing into eachother before the all too familiar sound of the third member of your trio pulled you back to reality, “look so fuckin hot riding him.” paul mused as he dried his hair off with one of the towels from your bathroom. he looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower, only wearing a pair of low hanging sweatpants as he dried himself off.

you giggled, smiling at him, “how long have you been home?” you asked softly, sliding your hand up embry’s chest until you found his free hand and quickly laced your fingers together.

paul smiled at you, “long enough to hear you offering to ride him.” he teased and embry let out a chuckle as you giggled, blushing as you realized he must’ve seen and/or heard most of your little rendezvous. 

“you staying here for the rest of the day?” you asked softly, reaching your other hand out to paul which he gladly took, tossing the towel to the side before getting in bed next to the two of you.

“yea,” he reassured, “you gonna let embry get you cleaned up while i make some breakfast?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at him before you leaned over to press a soft kiss to his lips. 

“okay i’ll be back in a minute.” he cooed, pressing one final kiss to your lips before getting up and heading into the kitchen. 

you turned your attention back to embry, smiling softly at him, “feeling better?” you asked softly, giggling when he let out a breathy laugh.

“much better.” 

#poly!paulxreaderxembry #poly!embryxreaderxpaul #embry call #paul lahote #embry call x reader #paul lahote x reader #embry call imagine #paul lahote imagine #embry call blurb #paul lahote blurb #embry call fluff #embry call smut #embry call angst #paul lahote fluff #paul lahote smut #paul lahote angst #twilight #tts #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight blurb #twilight wolfpack #twilight wolves #twilight wolfpack imagine #twilight wolves imagine #sam uley #emily young #jared cameron #jacob black #quil ateara

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 1

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, more dark elements to come.

Wouldn't mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

The glass cases and sparkling gems contrast your unbelonging as you step through the elaborately decorated entry. Your imposter syndrome nips at your neck as you twist the strap of your purse, the brown leather faded and cracked.

You swallow and look around. Unlike the rest of the mall, the shop is mellow and nearly empty.

You pick at your wooly cuff poking out from under your puffer coat. You go to the counter where a woman in a black turtleneck dress smiles flirtily at another customer. He looks like he belongs, though you're not a fan of the mustache. He chuckles as she helps clip a gold watch around his wrist.

"Does it bring out my eyes?" He kids as he puts his arm straight and pushes his shoulders back.

"They don't need help," the associate, her name, Kelsey, etched on her silver name tag, "it suits you."

"Mm, sure, you're not just saying that for the commission, are you?" He holds out his arm for her to unclasp the watch, his dark jacket is no doubt designer, if not tailored to his tapered torso.

You tune out their back and forth, the superficial exchange only adding to your displacement. You have a budget and a mission. You want to be in and out before you can dwell on everything you can't afford.

You peer through the glass at the Rolexes, casios, and Tom Ford pieces. Your eyes wander, looking for another employee to fetch your purchase. You don't want it to sell before you can get your hands on it. The silver watch with the sapphire face is exactly like the picture saved on your phone.

You lean forward trying to see behind the tall counter then pace to the corner and around the rear of the store. There is only the security guard at the door, watching shoppers mill by. You go back to the front where the customer continues his playful tet-a-tet.

You sigh and cross your arms, heat gathering in your thick coat. Your scalp speckles damply and you sway as your patience dwindles. The man browses the cufflinks as he asks advice on style.

"Ahem," you swallow your reticence at last, "sorry to interrupt–"

"And yet you did," the man retorts, "you can wait your turn." His sneer is derisive as he takes you in, head to toe, almost revolted by your dumpy attire. "That is if you can afford it."

"Excuse me, I…" your voice crackles and you shrug away the insult, "I'm sorry, just, when you have a moment."

You step away and drop your arms as you pretend to look at the earrings. The man scoffs and the associate gives a tinkly giggle.

"You know what would look good on you," the man says as you look out through the open wall into the mall, "pearls."

"Pearls?" Kelsey preens.

"Oh, yes, a nice little necklace around that pretty neck," he intones.

"I don't know, aren't pearls kind of… outdated?"

"Not the ones I have in mind."

You cringe at his entendre and roll your eyes. You should just leave. You really don't have the money. A year of scrimping and saving and for what? Colin doesn't care if you give him gold or a card, he's just happy with whatever.

Still, he deserves it. You just want him to feel special. For one day. To feel like he didn't settle, like maybe, he got the prize.

"You hold onto those for me, sweetheart," the man's voice carries in the vacant shop, "I'm gonna have a look at the tie pins."

You turn your head to watch his figure from the corner of your eye. He sidles around the other side of the store and you spin around. You go to the counter as Kelsey puts away a tray of cufflinks.

"Hi, yeah, if you don't mind I wanted this silver watch," you point over to where you found it.

"Sure, sorry about the wait. We're a bit short staffed at the moment," she smiles, "um, which one was it?"

"This one," you shift over and point over it, "with the blue."

She takes out the watch and brings it onto the counter. "Is it for someone special?"

"My husband," you smile, "he needs a new one. He got a new job so…"

"Oh, how exciting, is this the one then?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"And were you interested in the insurance plan? It includes free cleaning and battery replacement."

"Hm, how much would that be?"

"For this price range, an extra one-thirty."

"Oh," you can't hold back the impact of the number, "um, what's the total for just the watch?"

You hear a snicker and a shadow blurs in your peripheral. Kelsey goes to the till and you move along to stand across from her. The taxes are more than you expect.

"There's a Wal-Mart down the road," the man mocks as he leans on the glass, "think they might be more in your range."

You don't acknowledge him, merely biting down. What an asshole.

"I'll take the insurance, am I able to split the transaction?"

"Sure thing, how do we want to split it?"

"I'll pay for the watch in cash and the rest credit."

You put your purse on the counter and search through your clutter of receipts for your ziploc of bills. You peel open the top and start to count through the twenties, tens, fives, and hundreds, apologising for it as you do.

"You could have a good time down at the strip joint," the stranger comes closer and you turn slightly as you try to block him out. "Aw, baby, am I hurting your feelings? Maybe you could take that money and get a manicure instead? Or sort out that rat's nest."

"What do you want?" You slam down your hand as you lose count.

He smirks as you meet his eyes, bold and sparkling with amusement, "that."

"Leave me alone," you start over, frazzled as a few bills slip and flutter down to the floor. You bend to pick them up and grit your teeth as you resume your count.

"It's okay," Kelsey says, "I'll count."

You look at her and nod, pushing over the loose money and the ziplock. You take out your wallet and slide free your credit card, for emergencies only.

You wait as the man lingers closer. You wince as you feel him touch your hood and you pull away from him.

"Don't touch me. What are you doing?"

"Sir," Kelsey says as she puts the cash in her till, "please, I–"

"Mind your business," he snaps and keeps his eyes on you, "I'm just tryna figure who would marry… you?"

"Credit," you say to Kelsey as you motion with your card. She hits a button and you swipe.

"No wonder you're splurging, gotta keep him around somehow."

You key in your code and submit payment. You shakily place the card in your wallet and pack up your purse as Kelsey closes the watch box and slips it in an ivory paper bag. She tears off your receipt and staples it to the warranty.

"You gonna cry for me? Hm? Or maybe you can go home to the old man and tell him another guy actually noticed your fat ass–"

"Shut up." You snap as you swipe the bag off the counter, "I told you to leave me alone."

"Just one tear for me," he steps closer.

"Sir, please, I'll have to call security," Kelsey warns.

"You won't. I'm about to drop a month's worth of sales on you so you'll sit pretty and wait for me, dolly."

She flinches and curls her lip, fighting against her customer service smile.

"It's fine," you wave her off, "I'm leaving."

"Tell daddy you need a good fucking to get that stick out your ass," the stranger snorts after you, "if he can even find a hole."

You steam and puff your chest as you pass into the mall. Your lashes flick as your eyes sear. Just your fucking luck to run into the biggest douchebag in the place.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #unsolicited #dark drabble #dark!drabble #the grey man #the gray man #au #drabble series

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), ���𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

You knocked on the door of Tallahassee's temporary bedroom, waiting patiently for him to answer.

A groan came from the other side, and after some shuffling and a string of curses, the man opened the door.

He looked exhausted, ready to chew out whoever was knocking on his door so late, but the second he laid eyes on you, his face softened.

"Now a good time?" You asked, not wanting to disturb him.

"Yeah, yeah," he quickly nodded, stepping back to open the door, using his hand to rub the sleep off his face, "I was just catchin' up on some sleep."

"Well," you smirked, walking in and turning around so he couldn't see behind you, "I figured after such a shitty end to the day, you'd wanna share a drink."

He shut the door and turned around, cocking a brow.

A drink?

You pulled out an old-looking bottle of Jack Daniels from behind your back, looking at it proudly.

"Aged sixteen years. Forty-five percent," you stated as you red the label, walking over to his bed and sitting down, "Bill musta been savin' it for a special occasion."

You looked up at him with a mischievous expression, and he smirked, slowly walking over.

"You woke me up...at one in the morning...to get hammered?" He sat down.

"And talk," you added with a knowing smile.

He raised a brow, "And talk?"

...

You caved.

"Fine," you sighed, dropping your shoulders, "Numb Nuts and Wichita are goin' at it somewhere, and Little Rock is off doin' who knows what. .....And it's sad for a woman to get drunk by herself."

He chuckled, quite amused by your predicament.

You rolled your eyes, standing up.

"Fine, then," you shrugged with a sly smile, "Guess I'll take me and my fancy whiskey elsewhere..."

"Don't even think about it, missy," he grabbed your arm, yanking you towards him.

Losing your balance, you sat down on his lap with an oof, slightly taken aback.

You turned to him with an air of surprise, and he smirked, using the distraction to his advantage and taking the bottle from your hand, popping open the cork.

"S'like wavin' a carrot in front of a horse. Can't threaten me with a good time an' then pick up an' leave," he stated, matter-of-factly.

You raised a brow with a smile, "I'm havin' a hard time tellin' whether you're talkin' about the booze or me."

He shrugged, taking a swig, "Take a wild guess."

You scoffed, taking the bottle back and swishing it around, "I think I'm a little too sober for that one."

"Fair 'nuff," he chuckled, looking up at you.

You were so fuckin' pretty.

It was quite literally driving him insane.

He'd gotten so lost in you, that he hadn't even noticed his hands had, instinctively, slid up your thighs, finding purchase on your hips.

Your face suddenly felt hot, and the touch of his hands burned even hotter.

'Fuck.'

"Gettin' a little frisky, are we?" You quickly played off, handing him back the bottle.

"I'd do no such thing," he smirked, shaking his head, "I'm a perfect gentleman. Just keepin' you secure, is all."

You let out a suspicious hum, but left it be for now, letting him punctuate his sentence with a gulp of whiskey.

Accepting you'd be there for the long run, you shifted in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position.

And Tal had nearly bit through the bottle trying to prevent a groan from escaping his lips.

You had rubbed right up against his dick, which was already growing painfully hard and straining against his jeans.

It was embarrassing.

You'd think being a grown ass man, he'd be able to control himself.

But no.

The second he came anywhere near you, it was like he was a teenager again.

And after all his big talk, he couldn't just ask you to give him a minute.

You were smart. You'd know exactly what he'd be leaving to do.

The only thing he could do was ride it out and pray you wouldn't notice.

"Y'know, I felt bad for Murray when he.....y'know," you started, snapping him out of his frantic thoughts.

"How come?" He cocked a brow, thankful for the distraction, "'Cause Columbus shot 'im?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I mean...for the entire time before we came, he was all alone. ...I dunno...I guess I just felt sorry he didn't have someone he really cared about to spend his last days, y'know?"

He nodded, now understanding, "I get whatchu mean."

The conversation between Tal and the late actor suddenly flashed in his head, and a burning question suddenly came bubbling up his throat.

Maybe it could prove Bill's theory.

Tal took another swig, allowing the liquid courage to speak for him.

"Y'know, he told me somethin' real crazy while you had gone after the camera," he started, passing off the bottle to you.

"Really?" You cocked a brow, taking it from him and drinking a big gulp, "What did he say?"

The man paused a moment, "He asked me if you were my wife."

You were slightly taken aback, but surprisingly calm.

'A fair guess. I was fussin' over him all day...like an idiot.'

"Why's it so crazy?" You asked with a smile, taking a swig, "I not your type?"

A sentence you definitely would not have said about 20 minutes ago.

It was Tal's turn to be taken aback, not expecting such a bold reply.

But he, too, quickly recovered

"Girl a' my dreams," he patronized with a beaming smile, glad his tone covered the fact that it was one-hundred percent true.

You rolled your eyes, giving his brim a flick and handing over the bottle, "All right, funny guy. What is your type, then?"

"Well," he took a drink, swallowing thickly as he looked up at your expecting face.

Shit.

Even drunk, you were fucking intimidating.

"I'd want a gal that could keep up wit' me," he started, deciding to just go off a list of your traits, "One that could kick ass and take names. The mouthier, the better."

You chuckled, "You just like to fight."

He smirked, "I love to fight."

You rolled your eyes, not surprised at all by his response.

"You're lucky she doesn't blow 'er brains out within the first ten seconds of you," you scoffed.

He gasped, clutching his heart like you'd stabbed him.

"You wound me, darlin', you wound me," he shook his head, turning away from you.

He made his expression one of pain, and clutched the fabric of his shirt like his life depended on it.

You laughed, giving his chest a light shove, "I'm about to wound you in a second."

"All right, all right," he nodded with a chuckle, "Your turn, sunshine. What's your type?"

You paused to think for moment, the train between your brain and your mouth already starting to slow tremendously.

And you were far from a light-weight.

'This shit's the real deal.'

"For me...I'd like a guy real rough 'n tumble. I like 'em rugged," you started, still thinking, "He'd need to be strong.....and handsome....and preferably packin' in a certain department, if you know what I mean."

Yet another thing you wouldn't have dared to say had you not been fuckin' plastered.

Tal was internally giddy, proud and relieved he checked all the boxes, only letting small smile show a fraction of how he truly felt.

There was hope.

Real-life, tangible hope.

Maybe Bill was onto something.

"Speakin' of that just reminded me," he realized with a mischievous smirk, "You never answered my question from couple months ago."

You tilted your head in confusion, already starting to rack your brain, "What question?"

"Right before we came across that zombie-lady eatin' her manwich, I asked you somethin'..." he continued to lead on.

It hit you.

"Ohhh," you nodded.

The wording suddenly came back as well, and you turned into a cherry.

"Oh..." you mumbled.

It was adorable.

It made him just wanna squeeze you.

"Tell me, Princess," he smirked, "When was the last time you were fucked?"

You sighed, looking down at him nervously with those beautiful (e/c) eyes.

"You gotta swear you won't laugh," you asked, trying to get yourself to sound as serious as possible.

"I swear," he nodded, raising his right hand.

You raised your brow suspiciously, and he nodded again, drawing an X on his chest..

"Cross my heart."

You took a deep breath, doing your best to shake off the nerves.

'Here goes nothin'.'

"A couple months before the outbreak. ...That was the last time," you stated, bracing yourself for the teasing.

But it never came.

In fact, Tallahassee was the farthest thing from humored or disappointed at the moment.

He was in disbelief.

There was no way.

A woman like you? Left to satisfy yourself? Not hounded by a single man?

It had to be false.

"You ain't gotta lie..." he started, scanning your face for some sort of joke, "I won't judge, honest."

"It's the truth," you nodded, slightly embarrassed, "And it was some random hookup, too. Didn't even get to come."

Now he was floored.

No boyfriend?! A shitty fling?!

Didn't get to come?!

"That can't be right," he dismissed, unable to believe this, "You had to have had guys linin' up around the block. ...Or at least fightin' over you."

You fought back the blush threatening to creep up on your cheeks, your inner self squealing at the man's compliments.

What was he getting at?

You needed more information.

"Why you say that?" you asked.

He was flabbergasted.

You really didn't know?

"'Cause you're fuckin' gorgeous, darlin'," he exasperatedly sighed, the liquor loosening his lips quite a bit, "You've gotta be the prettiest woman I've ever seen. And the fact that you ain't had men droppin' at your feet just by lookin' attchu is somethin' I can't understand."

You smiled, moved by his words.

Sure, on he outside looking in, it sounded vulgar and crass and not romantic at all.

But knowing Tallahassee, and how he usually was, you knew this was as heartfelt and sincere as he could get.

"You think I'm gorgeous, Tex?" You smiled, leaning in and resting your arms on his shoulders.

He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist as you got closer, deciding there was no point in trying to hide it anymore.

"....Yes," he admitted, taking a deep inhale.

Fuck, how did you smell so good?

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes.

"I hope you know I'm countin' this as a confession," you stated.

He nodded, letting out a small sigh, "Figured."

You smirked, deciding to quote him from a couple months ago, "You say more than one word at a time?"

He flipped you off, and you laughed, leaning in so close your noses were practically touching.

You paused, taking a moment to bask.

Here you were, sitting in the lap of the man who had starred in a countless amount of your dreams, about to kiss him like he was the last man on Earth.

And here he was, the woman of his every fantasy sitting pretty in his lap, him holding you so tight that he thought you'd disappear if he loosened.

...

Oh, if this was a dream, he was gonna kick someone's ass in the morning.

You pulled him in by the back of his neck, slowly closing the gap between your lips.

Until finally...

"Hey, is the second Ghostbusters as good as the first because I-OH MY GOD," Little Rock walked into the room, quickly shielding her eyes at the sight of you on top of him.

You two quickly threw yourselves off each other, clearing your throats as you now sat on opposite sides of the bed.

"I just...wow. ...That's just...wow."

She shook her head, turning around and walking right back out, muttering something about pouring bleach into her eyes as she shut the door.

You sighed, rubbing your face as you desperately tried to recover from the new awkwardness introduced into the room.

Turning to Tal, you could tell just by his face that he wanted to storm out there and wring the little girl by her neck.

It was actually pretty funny.

"Maybe this was for the best," you smiled, reaching over and taking his hat off his head, placing it on yours.

He snapped over to you, flickers of confusion and worry flashing in his eyes.

But you were quick to clarify.

"As handsome as you are, I'd prefer to kiss you when I'm not completely shit-faced."

Leaning over, you carefully grabbed his chin and placed a nice, long peck on his cheek, smiling into it.

It felt nice.

It felt warm and domestic and soft, even with the stubble.

It brought back that feeling the world had before everything went to hell.

Pulling away, you gave him one more smile before turning around and heading towards the door.

"See you in the morning, Tex," you wished, stealing his leather jacket off a hook and exiting the room.

The second you shut the door, he let out a groan, allowing himself to lay back on the bed.

Even though it was just a little peck on the cheek, it still made him feel like he was on cloud nine, in a way no amount of weed or booze ever could.

He felt stupid being so giddy, as if he was a teenage boy and this was his first kiss.

It was gross and soft and not in character for him at all.

And if all this came from just a fucking peck, then imagine how the actual kiss would've felt.

...

He was gonna kill Little Rock in the morning.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland x reader #zombieland

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading updates: october 2023

hi everybody!!! things (by which I mean everything) have been a little bit hectic lately (by which I mean it feels like everything is one fire 100% of the time), which I guess explains why I'm late posting this AND why I only finished four books in all of October.

I would be very sad about this if the number of books I read had any correlation to my value as a person, but luckily it doesn't! so I don't give a shit, I am literally just vibing and trying to have a good time reading my silly little stories. here's a book report about it.

what I've been reading:

The Goblin Emperor (Katherine Addison, 2014) - okay, so picture this: you're the fucking elf king's least favorite son. you're not a bastard, but he didn't love your mom and after she died he basically banished you to a miserable little estate in bumfuck nowhere with no one but your abusive older cousin for company. probably he was going to leave you out there forever and hope that you would die quietly so no one would ever have to remember you existed. (un)fortunately, your shitty dad and all of his male heirs just died in a blimp accident and now you're the emperor. GOOD LUCK. this book is political fantasy of the highest order, with loads of machinations and intrigue and chewy worldbuilding interspersed with genuinely sweet moments between characters as one very good boy befriends his way to power. blah blah empires are inherently evil, obviously yes but this is a made up empire with 0 real consequences and Maia is my little dude. the only way I could love him more would be if he'd just nutted up and kissed his boy secretary on the mouth.

Happy Hour (Marlowe Granados, 2020) - I kept seeing this book enthusiastically as kind of a light fizzy funtime celebrating being young and free and running around New York City with no plans, and man... that was not my experience! Isa and Gala are maybe the most stressful girls I've ever encountered in fiction: perpetually broke and hungry, absolutely lacking in direction or ambition, always ricocheting listlessly from one situation to another in search of a good time and mostly only discovering disappointment, I need these girlies to get their lives together for my sake as a reader. there's one scene in particular where Isa is crashing with some disgustingly wealthy friends at the beach and keeps getting callously dismissed while sweating profusely and trying to figure out how she's going to convince them to keep paying for her food and it was so visceral that I developed a second, worse anxiety disorder because of it. Granados' writing is stylish, to be sure, but drama was not worth it for me.

The Magpie Lord (KJ Charles, 2013) - this historical fantasy romance is quick, dynamic, and horny. I can't actually say that I'm particularly charmed by the quality of the writing, which is there to hurtle you at warp speed between scenes of homoeroticism and bald exposition about magic, but I do admire Charles' panache. the book opens on a rather gruesome scene of our protagonist, Lord Crane, attempting to slit his own wrist; it quickly becomes clear that this isn't because he's genuinely suicidal, but because he's been cursed by persons unknown in an attempt to drive him to ruin. enter Stephen Day, a magic practitioner who hated Crane's deceased father and brother but is determined to help him all the same. some plot happens, but also a lot of flirting and (spoilers) sex that comes with an actual power-up for Stephen due to the wonders of blood magic. a pulpy good-time all around, and short enough that it doesn't overstay its welcome.

The Fervor (Alma Katsu, 2022) - The Fervor is a historical horror with a tantalizing premise: in the 1940s, Japanese demons begin to manifest inside of an Idaho internment camp for Japanese-Americans, adding a swirl of the supernatural to a situation that's already rife with mundane horrors. the actual execution is... lacking. Katsu's prose is blunt at best; when I call it "unsubtle" I don't mean the way some racist might mean when they inevitably go on a ramble about how Katsu beats her readers over the head with how racism is bad. racism is bad, duh, and it's hardly unrealistic to emphasize the fear and hatred that dogged the lives of Japanese-Americans during WW2. when I say this book is unsubtle I mean Katsu approaches each chapter like her readers have maybe forgotten everything they read leading up to that moment; you will be reminded frequently of characters' names, relationships, and straightforward motivations. and yet, somehow, the actual plot is still pretty murky. much is hinted at in the protagonist's past in Japan, then never actually elucidated, a main POV character falls clean out of the plot without resolution just before the climax, I still don't know what was up with those goddamn demon spiders. disappointing!

there was also one very specific, GLARING thing in the ending of The Fervor that I did not care for in the slightest, but that's tucked away on my Patreon in the monthly hater post. pay me if you want to hear about some CRAZY copaganda!

#bookblr #reading updates

[keiththecat]

Admissible (Part Twelve)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've always hunted alone. That is, until Bobby sends you on a hunt near the Winchester brothers. How will things change when they come to help?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, cursing, groping/ almost sexual assault, self-doubt/ self-esteem issues, character death, injuries, hurt/comfort

Author's Note: Hi friends! Hope you're still with me. Updates have been sporadic (I'm so sorry!), but life has been kicking my behind. I haven't forgotten our story, I promise! It's still coming, just a bit slower than I would like. I appreciate you all so much for continuing to read! Let me know if you have any questions or anything! You can also find me on tumblr under the same name. Thanks so much for reading <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

Part One

AO3 link here

After a little more than 14 hours of Sam driving, following the Impala and only stopping for gas and snacks when necessary, you all stop in a small town in Ohio for the night. You slept for most of the drive, with Sam waking you at the stops to make sure you ate and took your pain medications when due. Dean pays for two rooms at the motel, one for the brothers and one for you. You stubbornly insist that you can take care of yourself for the night, but you leave your spare room key with the brothers just in case. Dean heads out for food for the three of you, muttering under his breath about “freakin’ health nuts with their rabbit food” when you told him just to get you whatever Sam orders.

You decide now is as good a time as any to attempt a shower. Or, as much of a shower as you are allowed to do since you shouldn’t use your right arm and can’t get your left thigh wet because of the stitches. You manage to get the sling off of your arm and the bandage off of your thigh when you realize that you can’t get your shirt off without help. You debate just cutting your shirt off, but even that will be incredibly difficult with only one hand. Sighing and admitting defeat, you grab your phone and dial Sam, who answers almost immediately.

“Y/N? You okay?,” Sam asks quickly, and you can hear running water in the background. He must have been in the shower himself.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just- well-,” you take a deep breath, “this is embarrassing but I kind of need help getting undressed for a shower?” You ask, mentally crossing your fingers that this won’t be weird. Why would it be weird? Not like you’re asking the world’s hottest hunter to help you get naked or anything. You dumbass, Y/N, of course it’s going to be weird.

There are a few moments of silence from Sam on the other end of the phone, and you scramble to fix the awkward tension you’ve created. “You know what, I’m sorry, I can just do without. Or I can ask Dean-”

“No!” Sam cuts you off quickly. “No, don’t ask Dean. Just- I’ll help. Give me a minute and I’ll be over.”

“Thanks, Sam,” you say, hanging up the phone. You go through your duffel bag, grabbing a shirt, underwear, and a comfy pair of pants for after. You figure wrestling a shirt with your bad arm will be tough enough, let alone trying to wrestle with a bra, too. Plus, the thought of a bra squeezing your broken ribs gives you chills. 

As you’re making sure your shower supplies are where you’ll be able to reach them with your good hand, Sam knocks at your door and opens it. “Y/N? It’s me,” he says as he closes the door behind him. You exit the bathroom, finding him standing there in a tee and sweatpants, hair still wet, and he’s holding one of his plaid button-ups. “Thought a button-up shirt might be easier for you to get on after,” he explains, laying the shirt on the edge of your bed. 

How is he so thoughtful all the time? “Thank you, Sam,” you say. He rewards you with an adorably shy smile, dimples coming out of hiding.

“So- uh- how do you want to-,” he stumbles out, gesturing vaguely. 

“Right,” you clear your throat, snapping out of the hypnotic state his smile always seems to put you in. “Honestly if you can just cut this shirt down the back, I think I can manage from there. I don’t really want to lift my arms if I can avoid it.”

“Yeah, sure, I can do that,” he says. You turn around, giving him your back and you hear him open his switchblade. “Is it okay if I put my hand in your shirt?” he asks. You nod, feeling touched that he is still asking permission, even while doing you a huge favor. He pulls your shirt away from your back gently, sliding his hand with the knife up your shirt. You feel his knuckles skim down your back as he carefully cuts your shirt from top to bottom, blade facing away from you. You hear his breath catch as he reaches the end. “Damn,” he says under his breath.

“That bad, huh?” you ask, knowing that your back is likely more bruise than skin at this point.

“I don’t know how you managed to sit in the car for so long, let alone sleep,” he says forlornly. “Are you sure you’ll be able to shower?”

“I mean, I have one arm,” you say.

“And only one leg on top of a bunch of broken ribs,” Sam argues. “Not to mention, your face is so swollen, I’m surprised you can see. I wouldn’t mind helping you if you need it.”

You turn around, still holding the cut shirt against you. You search his eyes for a moment to see if he’s serious. There’s not a doubt in your mind that Sam would be respectful and only help with what you give explicit permission for him to do. “Only if you really don’t mind. Help would be nice,” you admit.

He nods and gives you a small smile, “alright then. Lead the way.”

You walk into the bathroom, Sam keeping a respectable distance behind you. Looking behind you, you see him turn to face the door, giving you as much privacy as he can while still being there to help. You turn on the water, undress as carefully as you can, and gently get into the shower. Being very mindful to keep your sutured wound out of the stream of water, you muddle through washing yourself, Sam filling the silence by talking about his journey following you across the country and pausing to check on you every few minutes. 

With your face and body clean, your hair is the only battle left to tackle. Turning so you’re facing away from the water, you interrupt Sam to ask if he would wash it for you. He agrees, asking if you’re ready and if you want him to use conditioner in your hair after the shampoo. With your permission, he moves the shower curtain just enough so that he can reach in with both hands. You verbally walk him through your normal hair routine, which he follows diligently, taking extra time to gently massage your head with his fingers and run them through your hair. Once your hair is cleaned, conditioned, and rinsed, he turns the water off. He politely wraps a towel around you before using another to dry your hair. You give Sam your thanks, and he steps out of the bathroom so you can get dressed, pulling the door shut behind him. With some struggling, you get your underwear and pants on. When you try to get your right arm into Sam’s extremely soft button-up, you wince and suck a breath in through your teeth, finding your muscles stiff and painful.

Gritting your teeth and treating it like ripping off a bandaid, you quickly get your right arm through the sleeve and then pull your arm back against your chest. You cradle it there with your good hand, bending over and breathing roughly through the pain radiating through your shoulder and ribs.

“Y/N? You okay?” Sam asks through the door, but you can hear his hand come to rest on the handle, ready to come in at a moment’s notice.

“Yeah,” you respond through your teeth. “Just having some trouble with the shirt. Give me a minute please.” 

You hear a knock at the room’s door, and you hear the muffled sounds of Sam talking to Dean. You focus on breathing as deeply and slowly as you can without increasing the pain, blinking tears away from your eyes. After several moments, you straighten up, getting your good arm into the shirt’s other sleeve and pulling the sides of the shirt together in the front. Dean is gone by the time you open the bathroom door, and Sam is setting two salads on the table, one for you and one for him. 

Registering you entering the room, Sam looks up and gives you a smile. “Food’s here,” he says, then you see him realize that you’re holding the shirt closed. “Need help with the buttons?” he asks.

“Please,” you nod, grateful that he is so attentive and caring.

He steps closer, buttoning the shirt from top to bottom and then helping you get your right arm into your sling. He guides you to one of the chairs at the table, telling you to eat, and he starts combing through your hair with his fingers. As you eat your salad, Sam continues playing with your hair, humming a song by The Smiths under his breath. By the time you are finished with your food, your hair is in a neat braid and secured with a band from around his wrist. You gently sit back in your chair, wincing when your back initially touches but settling into it regardless, as Sam comes around you to sit in the other chair and eat his salad.

“Where’d you learn how to braid?” you ask.

He shrugs, “I like when my hair is played with, so I used to play with Jess’ hair in college. Just kind of taught myself. I used to braid her hair while I studied.”

“That’s really cute, Sam,” you admit. He smiles, looking a little shy while he takes another bite of food.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you ask “so still no word from Castiel?” He shakes his head no. “Does he disappear often? Should we be worried?”

“He has done this before,” Sam admits. “Sometimes it’s bad and sometimes he’s just off doing his own thing. We’ll go back to the bunker, see if he left a note or something.” 

You nod, humming. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

Finishing his food, Sam stands and throws away all of the trash from both of your meals. “I’m sure he will be. And I know it might be selfish, but I just wish he could be here to heal you so you weren’t in so much pain.”

“How in the world is that selfish, Sam? You’re wishing something for my sake,” you argue.

“Well- but- if he’s in trouble or hurt-”

“Sam,” you stop him, standing and coming to stand in front of him, placing your left hand on his cheek so he will look at you, “that is the complete opposite of selfish. You are not a selfish person for wishing for something that will benefit someone else. You are so sweet and helpful and completely selfless, and I wish you could see that like I do.”

A moment passes, you and Sam looking into each other’s eyes. You notice his eyes bounce down to your lips, and you gently guide him to lean down to you. Your lips meet, his hands coming to rest on your hips lightly. He pulls away slightly, you both still breathing in the same air. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than you already are, Y/N,” he quietly admits. You nod, understanding. He straightens, giving your hips a very gentle squeeze before pulling his hands away, and you drop your hand back to your side. “Will you be okay tonight?” he asks.

“Honestly, if you don’t mind, I’ll feel safer if you stayed,” you admit.

His shoulders seem to relax, as if he was holding tension there at the thought of leaving you, even if he would only be next door. He agrees to stay, helping you get into bed and making sure to fluff the pillows around you to support you. He sends a text to Dean, letting him know he’s staying in your room, before he turns out the light and crawls into bed beside you. Feeling his warmth beside you and trusting that you are as safe as you could possibly be at the moment, you fall asleep almost immediately.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #female reader #supernatural #sam winchester x you #sam x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #bobby singer #crowley #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fic #sam x y/n #pov you #keiththecat

[bayesic-bitch]

Honestly the thing I find kind of frightening about the recent wave of large language models is the degree to which they developed capabilities that we did not explicitly give them. Like more and more it seems like transformers are a truly universal architecture that can do almost any task you can give them.

Like okay, they can do a little bit of math and solve some simple logic puzzles. The thing that I find so so startling is that they get this and also the common sense reasoning necessary to solve them without there being specialized architectures for those things. There's been a ton of work on trying to plug machine learning algorithms into formal reasoning models and trying to learn them together. Neural Turing machines, differentiable neural computers, Markov logic networks, fuzzy logic, neurosymbolic languages like Scallop and Neuralogic. This is decades of work from half a dozen different angles. Turns out you don't need it. Just make the model bigger and it can do math.

What about vision? It's a field with a long history. hand engineered features like wavelets gave way to convolutional networks, but those are also being replaced by guess what? that's right transformers! You dont even really need to think about the structure of the problem, just feed it to a transformer and also feed it text, and the fact that it's jointly trained with language improves its performance.

What about planning in robotics? Again, field with 50+ years of research. Turns out GPT actually just solves this too with no robot- or planning-focused training at all. All you have to do is ask it to write a plan and it'll give you one, a lot more easily than we could with the existing frameworks we've spent 50 years developing.

This is why it's driving me nuts seeing all these posts dumping on alignment concerns by saying "oh but intelligence isn't just one thing, just because GPT is good at text generation doesn't mean it'll be good at all the other things we call intelligence". This is completely missing the point. Whether or not it's necessarily true, what we're rapidly finding is that the current generation of language models very much are able to solve a wide variety of tasks, even for things it wasn't specially trained for. I cannot emphasize enough that what's concerning about this is 1) nobody was trying to make a model that could specifically do math or reasoning or planning. There's no specialized math or planning part of the model. It just figured out how to do them. 2) The transformer architecture seems to be a fully general, or nearly fully general, tool for learning from almost any kind of data. The paper that introduced the model was called Attention is All You Need, and that's only proven to be more and more true over time. For many tasks, attention really is all you need. It really feels like we're getting a lot closer to truly general artificial intelligence.

Now, I do actually think there are some things separating our current knowledge from building something really generally intelligent, and several more that separate us from making super-human level intelligence (most notably, while you can probably get human level intelligence from imitating humans, I don't think you can get superhuman intelligence this way -- you need some way of reasoning about exploration and how to gather new out-of-distribution data). But by far the longest standing open problem in AI has not been "how to do reasoning" or "how to do math", but "how to encode common-sense reasoning into an AI". It's an old enough problem that philosophers have built careers talking about why it's so hard. And I cannot stress enough that this problem, long considered to be the holy grail of the field, is now very close to being solved, if it isn't solved already. GPT-3 gets 65% on Winograd schemas, and GPT-4 gets nearly 95%. Is anybody really betting against the idea that GPT-5 will get 99.8% or higher? It would not at all surprise me if a lot of the other problems after this, like enabling long chains of correct reasoning, ended up being easier than this one.

[whatisthismandoinghere]

Yall remember Captain Morgan and his little crew from the Hogan’s Heroes episode “Everybody Loves a Snowman”? Well I’m about to go on a rant about them because I loathe them. Thoughts are below the cut cuz this ended up being a bit long 😅😂 yall know I love a good analysis though

Morgan starts off so poorly when Newkirk and Carter are trying to find the tunnel entrance and he asks Newkirk what they’re looking for. Naturally Newkirk tells them a tree stump to which Morgan sarcastically answers “What? So we can store nuts for the winter?” Like dude, seriously?? Newkirk and Carter are putting their lives on the line to get your sorry self into camp so they can help you escape. I honestly would’ve just left him in the snow. Like I’m sorry yall bailed out three days ago and that you’ve been stuck in the cold but these guys are stuck in a prison camp and don’t even have the option to escape. Instead they have to stick around and help losers like you.

Then when they finally get in the barracks Morgan wants to play friendly and says, “Hope you’re as good at getting us out as you were getting us in.” That wasn’t the tune you were singing back in the snow pally 🙄 literally throughout this whole episode he just went back and forth from being a jerk to all of a sudden playing nice, drives me nuts

Carter tells Hogan that the gestapo showed up so he tells Kinch to get the coffee pot going and everyone heads into his office and Morgan just has to open his big mouth and say “You’re taking a coffee break at a time like this?” I love how Hogan just immediately snaps back “Do you have a better way of listening in?” This ain’t Morgan’s operation but he still has an opinion on everything and somebody’s gonna hear about it

One of Morgan’s guys makes a comment about getting caught by the gestapo and says something like “You got nothing to lose but if they catch us it’s goodbye Charlie” My brother in Christ what do you think will happen to Hogan and his men if the gestapo find the tunnel you’re supposed to be hiding in and all of the equipment in there?? The stakes are just as high for them for helping you guys out and you can’t even be appreciative of it, all you’re concerned about is your own skin. These guys are risking a firing squad or a hanging Every. Single. Day. so that they can help others escape. Don’t downplay the risks they’re taking like that

When they end up getting stuck in barracks 4 (which happens to be the only barracks out of 20 that doesn’t have a tunnel leading to it) and Morgan of course feels the need to tell Hogan to not try to make his living as a bookie after the war. Have you not seen the operation they’re running?? I mean it’s super impressive that they have that many tunnels. I hate how Morgan’s so flipping snarky about it. He’s a bloody captain, where does he find the nerve to talk to a colonel like that? (I mean I’m gonna be honest, I would’ve found it kinda funny if one of the guys had said it to Hogan, but that’s because that’s the type of relationship they have, Morgan’s practically a stranger to them and he’s just being disrespectful)

Escaping is a risky and complicated business. It requires strategy, planning, caution, and patience, which Morgan doesn’t seem to understand. All of their plans just got turned on their heads when the gestapo showed up and they had to move to barracks 4, so obviously it’s gonna take some time to figure out something new. Once again, Morgan’s shooting off his mouth to Hogan complaining that it’s been an hour and they still have nothing. If you’re so smart Morgan why don’t you come up with a plan, huh? I don’t see you doing much. Seems like you got too much time on your hands since you’re just sitting there complaining. And then when Carter, bless his little heart, mentions something about going out and playing in the snow and he tries to go after him. I think since he’s stuck in this pow camp until the end of the war, Carter has a right to go out and have some fun. Don’t come after the beloved pyro puppy like that

And then as soon as Hogan leaves Morgan freaking tries to take over and start a fight. And his men tag along right behind him. They have no respect for Hogan’s authority and they have no respect for the risks Hogan and his men are taking for them. Assuming they’d even be able to get the guys out of the way (which I seriously doubt, have you seen these violent boys lol), what’s the plan after that?? Are you gonna go back out in the snow and try to make your way back to London? Hogan told you the woods were lousy with gestapo, where are you gonna hide? How are you gonna stay warm? What are you gonna eat? They’re basically signing their own death warrant trying to go out on their own like that (not that I care though, good riddance). All of these what ifs aside, I really love how the heroes just immediately stand up for Hogan. They don’t really know what he’s up to, but he hasn’t let them down before and they have total faith in him and are ready to fight for him. It’s a beautiful representation of their dynamic

In conclusion, Morgan and his men were some of the most disrespectful pigs I’ve seen on this show. Their blatant disregard for Hogan and his crew’s work just made me so mad. Like the fact that they had to work so hard to help these guys escape when they were so unappreciative ugh. I mean it all worked out but that was entirely too much effort for people that were just not worth it. 

Well this turned out way longer then planned but I watched this episode tonight and just had to get this off my chest lol, Morgan and his guys irk me so much 😂

#hogan's heroes #my ramblings

[iamnotclumsy]

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐨𝐧

William Afton x fem Reader

(Based on Bride of Chucky)

(Part 3)

……….

You pull out a little box and open it revealing a beautiful diamond ring. “This one. The one you left for me..” William looks at the ring. “Oh that! That’s the ring a found while taking out the trash. I have no idea why it was there but I figured I could get a good buck out of it.” Your face drops as he says this. “You mean you weren’t gonna ask me to marry you?” The rabbit looks a little shocked by the question. “What, are you fucking nuts? Look I love you and all y/n but really” he starts laughing a bit. You were beyond disappointed. And angry at the fact he was laughing at the thought of marrying you. You wished you never went to get him. He’s such an ass! And he’ll never change! You glanced at the dog cage that your friend forgot to get from you from the time you dog sitted for them. “Now first thing we need to do is get me out of this suit. Whatever book you used to bring me back should probably have something in it about soul transfer.” You look back at him. “No. I think I like you like this. You can be like my baby bunny~” William starts to chuckle a bit “hey what is that?” You ask pointing to the side to get William to look away. You then use all your strength to push William into the dog cage and close it. William is very shocked. “Hey now love! look I get it. You’re obviously still hung up about the whole killing kids thing.” You glared at him. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘Love will set you free’?” “Yeah?” William replies. “Well that’s not true. I’ve been a prisoner of my love for years. But I’m done with you.” William seems a bit indifferent. “Look y/n I do want to marry you. Really! We can get married as soon as I get a new body!” You roll your eyes. “I’m not interested in that anymore.” You go up to your room leaving him locked in a the dog cage.

{the next day

Your outside. Trying to get a trunk with Merricks body in it into your car. “Need any help?” Jason comes out and asks. “Oh that would be great thank you!” Jason puts the trunk into your car. “Jeez that thing is heavy what the heck is in that thing?” “It’s just stuff I don’t want anymore. Gonna take it to goodwill…..hey, by the way. Do you have any plans tonight?” Jason sighs “I have a girlfriend and we’re going through some stuff with her dad not liking me…I’m sorry I can’t” you smile softly. “It’s okay” “Y/N! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” You realize that you left the door open. You turn to Jason. “Sorry, just babysitting. He’s real lovely.” “Seems like it.” He chuckles before going to his house. You close your door. And drive off to dump Merricks body somewhere.

………..

#five nights at freddy's #william afton #springtrap #x reader #fnaf movie #bride of chucky

[spurious]

how about BTS for O I Think We Should Be Brethren

(Fic-Specific asks)

BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from [that fic]

trap card ACTIVATED although i don't even know where to start tbh

O I Think We Should Be Brethren aka Live Oak #4 aka John Sheppard's Sad Gay Life Fic aka the longest thing i have ever completed and posted aka my sort of mcshep thesis

I did a little commentary post on the whole first chapter of this fic, soooooooooo I'll go with something from chapter 2. The thing about chapter two of this fic is that it’s kind of just a collection of episode tags, but I didn’t want it to be just a collection of episode tags, because that would be boring, but I also wanted to hew very closely to canon events but just shown through the lens of John’s developing feelings. What that got me was basically all the very clearly episode-related sections, along with sections where nothing much happens but we get some glimpses into John’s feelings, into their more mundane interactions. I was torn between choosing this or the very early section where John obliquely comes out to Rodney, because that was something I wrote really early on and informs a lot of Rodney’s actions through the story, but I feel like I might have more to say, in the aggregate, about this bit, which is set shortly after the events of The Shrine:

After what Rodney takes to calling his "brush with stupidity," he becomes obsessed with creating documentation for all of the small, essential (according to him) tasks he does around Atlantis.

I think it makes a certain level of sense that, despite having near-on five years of his life being in grave danger multiple times, the possible loss of his mind is what would spur Rodney into the realization that he probably needs to document some shit.

"I can't trust anyone else to know to do this," he explains, manic, when John finds him in a rarely-used lab at three in the morning. He's bent over a Frankenstein abomination of Earth and Ancient tech (and no small measure of duct tape), something he's obviously jury-rigged himself, and he's in such a state that, thankfully, he doesn't even think to ask why or how John found him there at this hour. "What the hell is it, Rodney?" John tilts his head, stepping in closer—it probably won't explode in his face, he figures.

Why John found him there: because he knows Rodney's driving himself nuts trying to document a million tiny things and hasn't been sleeping. How John found him there: life signs detector and several years' practice studying the Wandering Habits of the Wild McKay

"You know that old joke that the entirety of modern digital infrastructure is all leaning on some free, open-source project being thanklessly maintained by a random guy in a basement somewhere, and the whole of the internet and probably the world's banking systems will break when he either gives it up or dies?" Rodney says, hitting somewhere close to a personal best on words-per-minute and not even stopping for John's answer. "No, wait, of course you don't, you're not a geek."

I stole that joke from XKCD but it just came into my mind and I would imagine Rodney spitting the whole thing out in one uninterrupted breath. (anyway i did link it in the endnotes so)

John scowls. "Hey!" "Fine," Rodney acquiesces, "you're not that kind of geek." And that, John can agree to. He'll match Rodney on comics and sci-fi trivia and mental math, but he's never gotten too into computers that aren't on board something that can go very fast.

John being offended that after all these years Rodney still thinks he's a jock is just, cute to me alright. He's a geek, he likes geek stuff, he's just also hot and has generic man interests as well!! I like the bit about computers that aren't on board something that can go very fast, though, that feels...correct to me.

"So this is Atlantis's free, open-source project and you're the basement-dweller who thanklessly maintains it?" "Exactly," Rodney answers, apparently too wrapped up in the work to notice John's lovingly-crafted insult.

All of John's insults are lovingly crafted.

"And you're writing documentation for it?" John pulls out a chair, sprawling lazily so he can get a look at what's on Rodney's screen. He's got a laptop open with a dense-looking brick of text he's typing additions to, and a tablet with what looks like a hand-drawn schematic pulled up on it. "Oh, well-spotted, Colonel Obvious," Rodney says drily, rolling his eyes. "I doubt anyone will really understand what it does, but Zelenka's a competent enough engineer to at least be able to follow a manual." "Right," John says, and then he sits, watching Rodney type, poke at the device, curse, and type some more. About five minutes go by before he speaks again. "You could also consider just staying alive so you can keep fixing it?"

John, five years in, having watched as Rodney slowly lost everything that makes him him, is a bit weak. That's really the only explanation for why he just says the quiet part out loud, here, even though he's trying to make it sound like a joke. I like this scene because it feels right to have them have this kind of conversation, this kind of bare, quiet intimacy, while the rest of the city is asleep, cocooned together in a lab with Rodney's tech all around them.

"Well, yes, obviously that's what I would prefer as well," Rodney says peevishly, the clacking of the keyboard turning a shade violent as the pitch of his voice rises. "But apparently this galaxy has other plans for me, and it was honestly foolish of me to have gone this long without coming to terms with the fact that I could die at any moment without anyone able to continue my work, so—" John doesn't think, his hand shooting out to grab Rodney's as it flails through the air in a helpless, fatalistic gesture. Rodney stops, mouth half-open, and just stares at John's hand, wrapped around his wrist, fingers curled against Rodney's palm. They're frozen like that, both staring at their hands, until Rodney says, voice quiet, "John?"

I love this part, this image right here. John not knowing what to do and just wanting to make Rodney stop and breathe for a second. Rodney absolutely stymied by the sudden physical contact, the nearness to hand-holding, enough that he uses John's given name. Rodney's actually going through a lot, emotionally, during this fic, that all becomes eventually clear in chapter 3, and this is definitely one of the sections I wrote with all of that very much at the forefront of my mind.

John squeezes Rodney's hand, just once, and looks at his face. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Rodney." And it's a promise John knows he can't keep, but it's also the only thing he can think to say, because he desperately wants it to be true, to be something he can say with certainty. Rodney, of course, is a man of science, and he understands reality, understands probability. "You can't promise—" John squeezes again, feels out the broad thickness of Rodney's palm. "I've done it up till now, haven't I?"

This scene has echoes of their beer on the pier, where Rodney tries to say goodbye and John just won't, legitimately refuses to, like, engage with reality? Because on some level I think John actually does believe that he can protect Rodney, can keep him safe from harm; he knows he'll give his life for that to be the truth, and he hopes, deep down, even though he's tried very very hard to extinguish that very hope, that his love, his devotion, will be enough.

Rodney's eyebrows knit together, his gaze darting around, and then he nods, quick and final. "Yes, I suppose you have."

Rodney may not know the true depth of John's feelings, but he believes this, too. Believes in John, in a way I don't think he believes in many things.

Love and honor, protect and cherish. Till death. It may not be vows, but it feels like them, to John.

Here's the wedding vows motif making an appearance again. John, fatalistic, eyes wide open, pledging and devoting his life to Rodney even though he doesn't think it'll ever be reciprocated, because he can't do anything else. Can't do anything less. He tries, several times, throughout this story, to pull away and put some distance between himself and Rodney, and every single time it ends up failing, for one reason or another. He's drawn back into Rodney's orbit, inexorably, but he's also so wrapped up in his own inwardly-directed misery that he doesn't realize Rodney's drawn to him right back.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, standing up and using their joined hands to pull Rodney up with him. Their hands slide apart, and John steps back, puts some distance between them. "Now come on, that big brain of yours needs some sleep."

Literally right here he's putting physical distance, after saying what, to John, amount to wedding vows. It's too much, too open, and he needs to get them back to an equilibrium because it feels dangerous to let that moment sit between them for too long.

"Yeah, alright," Rodney says, gathering up the laptop and tablet before he follows John out the door.

god. okay. i gave myself a lot of feelings writing all this out!!!!!!!!!!! i love this story so much, i think it's probably the best thing i've ever written, and.....idk i'm happy to talk about it forever and ever so thank you for asking???????????????????????? seriously.

#ask meme #fic rambles

[ciara-clycone]

Those Dreams:  Ch. 9 (Papyrus POV)

Inspired by the comics and artwork of @thelostmoongazer

If you enjoy it please :

Reblog, Like, and send Asks! All this also feeds my mood, drive and creativity and helps me write more. So thanks to all those who do this!

A03: link

Those Dreams: (Papyrus POV) 1, 2  3  4   5  6  7 8 9

These Dreams: (SansPOV) 1 , 2   3

Words: 541

Characters: Papyrus, Sans,

Summary: Sans has been having night terrors and nightmares, and Papyrus is determined to help him! But can he? And can Sans get better? Or is the whole situation out of their control, and only bound to get worse?

As the River person’s boat sped onward toward Hot Land, Papyrus’s gaze was glued in front of him. As if the harder he looked toward Hot Land, the faster they would get there.

You’re neglecting your brother. You’re not even looking at him.  How do you know if he’s not on the verge of dusting right now?

He glanced down at his brother. 

Aside from a few brief movements oh his face and the rising and falling of his chest, Sans was completely still.

Papyrus couldn’t stand to see his brother that way. His brother was unwell for an unknown reason. Was he injured or sick? He had no clue. And it was driving him nuts.

That’s why when Riverperson called out Hotland, he quickly bolted from the boat and headed toward the lab. Shouting out a thank you as he did so.

He zoomed to the lab, and knocked on the door. “DR ALPHYS? HELLO? ARE 

YOU THERE? IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

The door to the labs opened up, and Al’s head nervously peered out. “Y-yes?”

“MY BROTHER NEEDS YOUR HELP! HE SAID YOU COULD HELP HIM.”

“Oh! Come in quickly!”

She quickly led them over to a room with beds in it. “Put him here.” She gestured to a bed. “What happened to him?”

Papyrus hesitated for a bit, mainly because he wasn’t certain himself. “I AM NOT SURE. HE HAS HAD TROUBLE SLEEPING FOR QUITE A WHILE, AND LATELY HE HAS BEEN ACTING OFF. EVEN FOR HIMSELF.”

Al fretted. She wasn’t sure what was wrong but she wanted to do something.But would she be able too? She was afraid she might not be able to.

She told Papyrus that she would do her best. She hooked Sans up to some machines, and started to take his readings to try to diagnose him. She put him on a magic drip to try to help stabilize him, while she tried to figure out what to do.

Papyrus pulled up a chair and sat down and watched his brother.

#night terror sans #papyrus #sans undertale #brotherly love #skelebros #undertale fic #undertale fanfic #Those Dreams #angst

[lou-struck]

Day 3: Decorating

Koshi Sugawara x Reader

Flufftober Day 3: Decorating

~Three days into October and your boyfriend is worried he is falling behind on his decorating.

Watching the everchanging leaves fall from their trees and onto the browned grass below. A few squirrels scamper through the piles searching for any well-hidden nuts or seeds that the trees have dropped.

It's peaceful.

Until you feel the plush chair you are seated on begin to sing a muffled tune.

Shoot, your phone must have fallen between the cushions. You shift your weight and lower your arm in between the armrest and the upholstery you are sitting on as you blindly feel around for the familiar shape of your phone. Just as the sounds die down you find a corner of your phone's case and pull it from the pillowy depths.

Tapping the screen you see that you have a missed call from Koshi, your boyfriend's cute contact image flashes again on the screen as he sends you a follow-up message asking if you wanted to come over and help him decorate his house for Halloween.

You read his message with a smile, Sugawara has always loved holidays

You text him back telling him that you would be over soon before getting yourself ready.

~

Stepping outside you are surprised to find the air carries a chill despite the bright sun in the sky. It's not unpleasant by any means, it just feels like Fall. Koshi only lives a few minutes away, but you take your sweet time, driving slowly past the trees speckled with leaves of green, orange, yellow, and red.

They float down from their trees and cover the damp asphalt. The sight is so beautiful that you hope Suga's yard is littered with them as well.

Your hopes are answered as you pull in front of your boyfriend's home. the changing of the seasons makes his well-tended yard look as if it is already decorated. But the large tower of boxes that are currently being stacked in front of his porch tells you that Koshi Sugawara is far from finished.

"Hey you're here." a cheerful voice says from somewhere on the other side of the box tower.

"Koshi?" you ask trying to peek around the decorations. "Where are you?"

"Y/n, I'm here," he says, but his voice sounds farther away. You walk around the pile in hopes of seeing him on the other side but you can't find him.

"I can't see you," you giggle glancing back behind your shoulder.

Suddenly two arms seemingly come out of nowhere and pull you into something warm and sturdy. With a gasp, you finally come face to face with Sugawara.

The cold air dusts his cheeks with pink and he stands in front of you covered with a little bit of dust. His favorite light blue scarf is wrapped snugly around his neck protecting it from the chill.

"You scared me," you sigh.

"Sorry," he laughs "I couldn't help it, it is the spooky season after all."

"You're right." you smile putting your hand on his silver hair and ruffling a bit of the dust from the strands, "Look at you, you're all dusty. You got all the stuff from the attic without me didn't you?"

The accusatory glare you send him only makes him chuckle more. "Yeah, I figured that only one of us needed to fight the spiders."

"I appreciate it," you giggle. "So what do you need me to do, I am ready to decorate."

He taps his cheek in thought, “Anything you want really, I’m just happy I get to spend some time with you. There is an inflatable ghost that needs to be set up if you want to do that.”

"Okay then," You say enthusiastically. “Show me the ghost.”

"That's the Spirit," he says kissing your cheeks and chuckling at his own pun. He goes over to the tower of well-labeled boxes and tries to figure out which one has the inflatable.

Peeking open into one of the plastic tubs he takes it down from the pile with a look of victory on his face.

“There we are,” he says, handing the box to you. “Everything you need to set it up is in there.”

Got it!” you exclaim, taking your new friend over to a spot on the lawn that has enough room for it.

Pulling the decoration out of the box you work to spread it out and flatten it so that once you plug it in it’ll blow up. You’re very surprised at how big it is, hopefully, Suga will be the one to put it back into the box because you have no idea how it’s going to fit if you do it yourself.

You unravel the large extension cord and run it around the lawn and shrubbery. You plug it into the power source of a side of the house and make your way back to the inflatable.

Tapping the button on the side of its base it slowly begins to inflate as a humming sound feels the air. It gets bigger and bigger as its smiling face and outstretched arms head towards the sky.

“This was easy,” you say to yourself as Casper wobbles to life. You put it in the grass and you hit something with your foot that clangs a little bit.

Crouching down you see that it is a long black bag, Sticking your fingers in it you pull out several metal pegs.

“ These must be to stick the ghost down.” You mumble. Suddenly a large gust of wind hits your back. The ghost gets a little too friendly as it knocks you over and covers you. You yell and twist trying to get out of its grasp with little luck.

"Hey, are you okay?" Suga’s voice sounds from above you. He pulls the inflatable assailant off of you and helps you up quickly.

“I’m all good,“ you say dusting the crushed leaves off of your back. “ Casper just got a little bit too friendly. Thank you for helping me.”

“I'm glad you are," he laughs, "If you were I would feel like a huge jerk for laughing, you just looked so funny I couldn't help myself."

"Rude," you huff giving him a little swat in the chest.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry. Let me help you stake him down and then we take a cocoa break," he says apologetically. you want to try and pretend to be mad at him, but between the offer of hot chocolate and the cute look on his face you can't maintain your façade.

"You have Cococa?" you ask looking at him, even the little mole of his cheek is smiling at you.

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #sugawara x reader #sugawara kōshi #Suga x reader

[nowitswetme]

Body Parts that drive Dean crazy

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: kissing, the tiniest bit of objectification, mostly pure fluff

A/n: part of the Dean Winchester NSFW Alphabet  (most of which promises to be a bit less sweet and a lot more naughty than this particular little piece)

Listen, Dean loves your whole body. Every last inch.

Hell yes, I do. Ain’t a curve on you that I don’t go crazy for, Sweetness. You drive me absolutely fuckin’ nuts, and you know it.

You’re not always in love with your body, but Dean always makes sure you know that he is. Whether you’re all glammed up and dressed to turn heads on a night out or lounging around in sweats and a woke-up-like-this mess of a vibe, he’s addicted to you. It’s torture anytime I have to keep my hands off of you, y/n. Or my mouth for that matter. Or my anything.

But weirdly, he’s kinda obsessed with your hair. It’s gorgeous and soft and it smells like heaven and it distracts him. Like, routinely. He’s always having to pull himself from thoughts of wrapping his hands in it and ravishing you with kisses until your knees give out and your pussy’s throbbing. It’s a little annoying, ya know. Hair really shouldn’t make me hard. You’re too damn beautiful. But he wouldn’t change it. He loves how turned on he gets by every little thing about you. And on the sweeter side, he didn’t expect waking-up-to-your-hair-in-his-face to be something he’d love so much. It reminds him that you’re next to him before he even opens his eyes, and it’s an even better morning pick-me-up than coffee. And your nose crinkles up SO cute when you’re amused with something. It’s adorable. He can’t help but smile when you look so damn gorgeous without even trying.

And your feet. How you manage to keep them looking so pretty and polished when they’re constantly in boots and chasing after monsters is completely beyond him. I’m kinda glad you do though – givin’ you foot rubs is my favorite way to start your, uh…  full-body massages. ‘bout time for one too – lean back and let me make you feel reeeaal good, y/n. There ya go.

And your lips are insanely enticing. Oooo yeah. Definitely your lips. Can’t get enough of those. They’re even more distracting than your hair. You have a tendency to bite on them when you’re deep in thought, and it’s the most tempting thing Dean’s ever experienced. He’d do better to look away so he can actually focus on what he’s supposed to be doing, but he just can’t tear his eyes away from your mouth. Fuck, he wants to have them all over him.   And don’t forget your ass. It’s fantastic, y/n. Walking in to see you bent over takin’ a pie out of the oven was for sure the day I knew I was in love. He says it like he’s joking, but there’s a soft sincerity in his gorgeous green eyes that tells you he means it. He walked in to see your rear end in the air and your hands grabbing his very favorite food that you’d made just for him and he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with that view. Actually, yeah, all of it. It’s all fucking amazing. And it’s time you accepted it, Sweetness.

As far as his body goes, he never really thought that much about it. It’s always been strong and solid and pretty damn attractive and he figures that’s about all he can ask from it. He blushes and brushes you off when you start talking about the parts you love about him, but in reality it makes his heart feel like it’s gonna burst from the warmth of your love and he can’t believe he gets to be with someone who’s so precious. He’s learned to love his freckles and his green eyes and his quick hands and his bow legs and his strong shoulders and his countless other unique details, simply for the fact that you love them so much. It’s just one example of how he’s learning to see himself differently through your eyes, and it scares him a little but mostly he’s just thrilled to finally feel whole for the first time in his life.

Alright, alright. That’s enough about that. Go back to the top and read about you again. I’ll tell you how fuckin’ hot you are as many times as you wanna hear it, y/n – cause it’s all I think about. All the time.

#dean winchester abcs #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #nsfwabcs #supernatural #winniewrites

[n1ghtcrwler]

The story so far:

Carol and I were excited to play Baldur's Gate 3, and decided to play it together, so we bought two copies. We livestreamed the first bit of the game as part of our Couple's Game Night show, in a multiplayer game hosted on her computer. The next day, due to scheduling, we each started a single-player campaign as well on our respective computers. Everything is fine.

I had started getting into mods due to The Sims 4, and expanded into using mods on Fallout 4, so I happened to be on Nexus shortly after installing Baldur's Gate 3 and noticed there were already over a thousand mods for the game, which blew me away. I didn't know about the early release, so I thought the community had somehow busted out 1.6k mods for the game in the span of just a few days and was deeply curious about what kind of mods they could possibly be, so I started looking through the list. End result: one dozen mods and a mod manager downloaded and running. Nothing major, just stuff that gets me new dice or access to camp clothes at a shop, one thing that makes feats available more often, that sort of thing. Most of them just make the game more closely aligned with the 5e books. One set of mods stands out; a mod that makes WASD move the character instead of the camera, because the "move the camera and then click somewhere" mode of moving around drives me nuts, as well as a camera fix required for that and the special mod loader needed to run both. These are installed directly in the game's bin folder instead of through the mod manager. There is an Improved UI override in the mod manager that does not turn off when I turn off other mods. Everything is working fine.

Carol and I load a second multiplayer game hosted on my computer, which involves turning my mods off because she doesn't mod, except the WASD set and the Improved UI because I can't directly turn them off and they don't affect anything that matters for multiplayer anyway. Besides, after talking about it, Carol decides to install the WASD set on her computer as well. The idea was to avoid playing the streamed campaign off stream, but we didn't want to not be able to play together when we weren't streaming. So a second multiplayer campaign was the best solution. The next day, I also join another multiplayer campaign being hosted by a couple guys in my Discord server. Everything is working fine.

My Dwarf druid/cleric reaches level 5. I go to level her up and the game crashes out. No message, no hesitation; click the level up icon, and I'm back on the desktop with the Larian crash reporter opening. I start experimenting with the mods, removing them one at a time and trying again, to see which one is causing it. Nothing fixes the problem. That same day, Carol and I decide to jump into our non-streamed multiplayer game, so I turn off all my mods in the mod manager just like before. But we can't connect. When she tries to join my lobby, she gets a message that "GustavDev" is different between our computers and therefore preventing her from joining. We try switching to the streamed one hosted on her computer; it won't let me connect, but doesn't give an error message. Carol tells Steam to validate her installed files and walks me through how to do the same thing. Finish that process, but still can't connect. We don't know which computer is the problem.

Carol reaches level 5 on her game and is able to level up her character just fine, so we now have ample reason to believe the problem is my install. She explains that "GustavDev" is a core game file, and has me uninstall and reinstall the game. This does not fix my leveling problem, so I start testing mods again. This does not work. I switch to my Shadar-kai (yes, a modded race) bard playthrough, which is at a lower level, so I can at least enjoy the game a little bit until we sort this out. But this is a temporary solution, as I know I'm going to be constantly frustrated with the game and unable to finish it if I never figure out how to get past level 4.

Last night, we tried to join a party with a different pair of guys from our Discord server. Carol gets in just fine, my attempts fail. I have my mods off, so I start poking around some more, and fully uninstall the Improved UI override. Now the game still won't let me join the lobby, but does at least give me the "GustavDev" error message. I validate files again and Steam reinstalls one. Still can't join. I go into the game's bin folder and manually delete every file added or altered by the WASD mod set. The game crashes without opening; presumably, one of the files I deleted was necessary. So I validate files again, hoping that will notice the missing file and reinstall it. It doesn't find any errors. I try to load the game again, and it crashes without opening. So I uninstalled and started a new install and went to bed.

This morning, with a new install, I verify my mods are off and my Improved UI and WASD set are uninstalled, start up the game, and load the multiplayer campaign I'm hosting. Carol is still in bed while our daughter is getting ready for school, so I hop on her computer and see if she can connect to my now-open lobby. She can't, it gives the same "GustavDev" error message. This tells me things are still not going to work on my computer. So I exited the game and uninstalled it again. Then I went through and deleted the mod manager itself, the game folder, and the Larian games folder that contains all the save files and all the mod files. I purge every scrap of Baldur's Gate 3 and the mod manager I can find off my computer, then restart my computer, THEN tell Steam to install the game anew.

The install is at 40%. Carol tells me that if that doesn't work, the next step would be a refresh of my entire Windows system. I'm debating whether or not this game is worth that level of effort. Stay tuned for updates.

#bg3 #steam #game problems

[sukieros]

“WHATEVER HAPPENS, I LOVE YOU.”

DISCLAIMER: imperfect grammar, mention of cuss, yelling, starving, suffering reader

GENRE: angst, fluff

— non-idol!jake × reader's 2nd pov

Jake didn't mean to hurt you with the words he dropped after coming back from a very tiring work. You were undeniably hurt for hearing him tell you those aching words in a very imprudent manner. He was busy at work and you want attention from him because you missed him so much to the point that you're overthinking things. You even thought that he derelict you and your relationship now.

At first, it was fine for you but when he only barely got time to give attention to you, your impatient ass couldn't take it any longer so you decided to ignore him for a week and Jake got irritated by the attitude.

Jake knew that you are a very hot-blooded person but he can't be careful about the fact that you can do things that'll drive him nuts just like ignoring him for a long time.

“Y/N STOP GIVING ME THAT ATTITUDE AND JUST TALK TO ME ONCE!” he screamed.

But you only gave him a deadpan look that triggered him.

“FOR FUCK'S SAKE I COULDN'T BELIEVE I MARRIED A FUCKING BITCH LIKE YOU! YOU KNOW WHAT?? YOU'RE THE BITCHIEST BITCH I'VE EVER HAD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE AND I WISH THAT THIS MARRIAGE COMES TO AN END!!!”

He was huffing in his own breath with his eyebrows crossing together.

Not until his mad face went back to the soft Jake because there you are looking at him with your lost eyes. Realization hit him when he saw pain struck around your doe ones. He wants to apologize but it was too late because you ran upstairs and locked yourself inside the room.

Jake threw a mad punch in the air as tears streamed down from his puppy-like eyes. He hurt you and he hates himself. He wants to scream and slap his face a thousand times because he hurt the woman he dearly loves.

It's been three days and you never came out. Barely even touched the food he prepared you. He took a one month leave just to fix you and him.

And it's driving him insane and it's suffocating. He misses your presence around the house. He misses you doing the chores as he gets back home and he'll give you the warmest back hug. He misses your smile, laugh, giggles and even your cooking.

But everything vanished in days after those painful words he threw infront of you. Thinking about those moments, it's making him smile bitterly and let out another river of tears.

“Baby...” Jake's voice got shaky as hot tears fell from his eyes. His system got weaker knowing that you held his words that he never wanted to tell you.

“Baby, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry... I didn't mean to yell at you like that. Please open the door and let's talk. I can't handle seeing you being like this. It hurts me that I made you cry, baby. Baby I don't regret getting married at you. Baby please...” He cried out.

He was begging and apologizing many times like he's writing thousands of promissory note in one sitting.

On the other side of the door, you were crying too. “Bullshit...” You murmured to yourself.

Why would he say that he didn't regret you when three days ago he told that he wants to put an end between you and him?

Neither can you help yourself at this state. You love Jake. You love him so much that you are willing to hug him again. But something stops you for trying to.

Because you kept questioning your worth if you deserve him or does he deserves you?

You let out a sigh, wiping the salty tears your eyes gave out. You bit your lower lip and slowly held the door knob. You slowly twisted it causing for the door to unlock. When you hang the door widely, there he is.

His small figure on the floor sleeping. His cheeks were wet, probably from crying a lot. His hair was messy like a puppy. You slightly smiled because you missed this guy.

His eyes slowly twitched when you tapped his shoulder. And both of yours met. "Baby..." his eyes was half open and his voice was very raspy.

"If you're only in my dream now I would beg till my knees bleed just for you to forgive my shits." He said while hot tears slowly streamed down from his eyes.

He looks pitiful in his current position. You want to laugh it out but you can't help it because you're also crying too.

"Damn you look like an angel, are you taking me to heaven now huh?" He said carelessly. You smiled softly. "I love you." You said. But all he can respond is to smile. And his eyelids slowly dropped and began snoring again.

You went closer to his face and you were about to kiss him but you smelled a reek of alcohol between his lips. You sighed knowing that the young guy drowned himself drinking without your presence beside him. You carefully carried and guided him to your bed and made him lie down.

You fixed his position to put him in a comfortable sleep. You covered him with your blanket and turned the aircon to dry his sweat.

You went to the kitchen to make him a meal. It's been a while... You smiled softly and began cooking. You went upstairs carrying the tray containing your food and Jake's food.

He was sleeping deeply. “I'll wake you later my love.” You said and pecked his forehead and fixed the untouched food. You went beside him and cuddled his sleeping figure until you went to dreamland too.

It's 4PM sharp and Jake's eyes slowly opened. He was confused and his head hurts because of the liquor. It felt like he got ran over by ten-wheel truck.

“Fuck this hangover...” He mumbled to. His voice was raspy and his throat sores. He rubbed his eyes trying to process anything after he woke up. His eyes roamed around the place he's in right now. Only then realized that he's not outside your room anymore. He's inside, laying down on the bed you both share together.

His eye balls almost fell out and he tried to process the situation. He looked at the figure beside him and you're peacefully sleeping. His heart was thumping and he can't think straight. All he want to do is now cry as little by little, those thorns that were planted by him on his heart, were being pulled off.

You took care of him and you even cooked for him. A small smile crept on his lips and he wip his tears. He leaned down to kiss your cheeks waking you up from your deep sleep because you're a light sleeper. You slowly opened your eyes and you met his, again. His eyes were in pain and happiness but a hint of guilt was dancing through his brown ones.

“Jake...” You called out his name and he smiled softly as tears fell from him again and every droplet fell on your skin, you cried out too.

The scene of you staring at each other deeply, the peaceful silence filled by your sniffs and sobs, the way your eye pupils are screaming the sincerity of pain, of those strong emotions for each other, those were the passion, sadness, happiness, and madness.

Passion, it's because of the way you cared for him and the way he wants to bet his life in any danger just to protect you again even if he failed for the first time, but he's going to do it again, to love you more because you gave him another chance to fix the mistakes, his mistakes and maybe even yours. He's passionate about you, for you, and because of you. And those little by little shits he did unconsciously and those things that hurt you caused by him, he is willing to grow and to learn only for you as the woman he loves.

Sadness, because of guilt. Happiness because you're here again for the both of you and madness because he is mad at his self for treating you in the worst state as possible.

“I miss you so much....” He cried as he cupped your cheeks making you smile and cry out in joy, “I miss you more, love...” You replied back making him drown in guilt and regret.

He hugged you in a tight embrace, “Fuck, I love you so much. I regret saying those things. I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry. I'm sorry in many ways.” He's sincere and you know that.

“Jake, it's okay.” You let go of the hug and your lips made a reassuring smile.

“I forgive you now. Plus, it's my fault too. I didn't wait for you patiently and my stubbornness and cockiness suffocated you.” You said and wip his fresh tears.

Jake's eyes were sore and red yet he never looked away and his eyes just to stare at you because he never like the idea of losing you.

“Btw, let's eat our food now, it's getting colder. You need to stuff your stomach too.” You said taking the tray from the bedside table beside you and brought placed it on the sheets.

You felt a burning stare and you know that Jake's eyes never left you. Those thorns stuck in your heart were slowly being pulled away.

“We should eat.” You stated and looked at him. His eyes were screaming guilt again yet he's still happy.

“Okay, my love.” He smiled and began digging over the dish you made for the both of you.

You watched your husband who munched his food like he never ate one before. He was hungry because he has no appetite to eat because of the situation you both got in to.

Suddenly he started crying again while eating the rice. His hands were trembling as he gripped the handle of the spoon and fork.

“A-aegi... a-awae?” You asked worried. “N-nothing, nothing.” He shook his head and ate the whole plate while his head was bowing down.

“I-is something wrong?” You asked, concerned about Jake. Jake looked at you and cried loudly, opening his mouth like a baby who hurt himself.

“I'M SO SORRY!!! I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING A JERK!!!” He cried so hard. He was helpless. It aches him because after what he've done, you rewarded him with a food because of his hangover. Your cooking is one of his favorite thing and he felt so bad eating one after what he had done to you.

You just smiled, tearing out again. You hit his forehead and he pouted doing the puppy eyes. “Stupid puppy. I can't bare not talking to you for days. And it's killing me. So baby, are okay now?" You asked spreading your arms, body language saying that you want a tight embrace again from him.

Quickly he placed the tray on the bedside table and threw himself to you again. “Whatever happens, I love you.” You whispered on his ear.

“I love you more my wifey.” He said.

And that's how everything with you and him went. He became more sensitive, did his time management and you practiced being patient for him.

Understanding, good communication, consciousness, patience, sensitivity and respect are the aspects that build a good relationship, not perfect but a better one.

There are more aspects to maintain a good relationship with your lover but these are the basic yet useful ones.

Both of you managed your relationship well and avoided things that will hurt each other.

#enhypen x y/n #enhypen imagines #enha #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen

[seventeenlovesthree]

How Byler reminds me of Taishirou

I actually didn't ship any ship in Stranger Things prior to season 4, as all the couple related drama in season 3 was definitely not for me and I also hadn't been aware of all the subtext. Upon watching season 4 and falling down several meta rabbit holes, the cute Byler AMV I had watched a year ago or so suddenly made a whole lot of sense - and, looking at my shipping preferences, it does surprise me that I hadn't fallen for it sooner.

Long story short, in their essence, they remind me of Taishirou - I know, I know, please don’t throw rocks at me yet, I do compare them to a lot of other ships, but hear me out. Obviously, they are NOT the exact same characters, but the way they became friends, adore and admire each other and grow up to have severe communication issues are somewhat interesting parallels. At least to me, so I'm gonna try to explain it a bit.

Things Mike and Taichi have in common:

The first thing that comes to mind is how they start their respective stories with (perceived) main character status, driving things forward, showing courage and ambition while doing so (finding Will vs. leading the Chosen Children). 

Interestingly enough, their associated worn colour is "blue". Also: Layered clothing.

One of my favourite comparisons is their abilty to turn into grumpy cats when things don't go their way - especially when they struggle to reach certain people on the phone. 

Having very caring moms (even if they can’t really open up to them about their “secrets”), a little sister and a dad who’s more in the back (though Taichi obviously doesn’t have a big sister). 

Both of them have a talent in getting girls mad at them (El vs. Sora), mostly due to poor word choices. They’re actually both hopeless nuts in that regard with 02!Taichi being the only exception.

Lots and lots of hair. 

Growing self esteem issues for various reasons, as Mike considers himself just “lucky” to have found El and not being good enough for her. Additionally, he’s seen afraid of losing her just as much as fearing to lose Will in season 1 and 2; whereas Taichi struggles with his sense of recklessness, fearing to hurt and (also!) lose the ones he loves; both of them are pretty much unable to face these things for quite a while, causing a drift towards their best friends...

Things they don't have in common:

While Taichi is not your typical "nerd", he can still be quite a dork, despite being very sporty - whereas Mike struggles to even run in a straight line.

Taichi trying hard to pursue a girlfriend is mainly a thing that happens in fanon, but not in canon.

Things Will and Koushirou have in common:

They are (at least starting off as) being quite short - which has some impact on Mike and Taichi respectively being protective of them.

Their associated colours may not be the same, but “yellow” and “orange” are quite close after all. Additionally, "Will the Wise" (= knowledgable) has a “purple” colour scheme (which is Koushirou’s signature colour). Also: Collar shirts!

Both are being bullied at school early on for being “different” (which is only implied for Koushirou in the novel, as his classmates are making fun of his laptop or considering him “hard to get along with”). 

While their family situations are very different, it does have impact on their self esteem in some ways (having an abusive dad vs. being adopted and not knowing his whereabouts). Despite that, they are dearly loved by their closest ones (mom and brother vs. adoptive parents), even if they can't fully open up to them (yet). 

Humble ("Are you okay?" after waking up from being possessed towards his big brother’s injured hand vs. "I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your expectations" after having figured out how to get the group back into their own world), but can be snarky if necessary (”Friends, what friends?” vs. “How did you ever guess?”). 

Also surprisingly emotional about things/people who matter to them (especially when they feel rejected by them)...

Questionable haircut choices. 

Can get very focused on/invested in their special interests (art vs. computers/problem solving) while not noticing their surroundings.

Both are getting panicky over girls - in somewhat different contexts though.

Quite perceptive towards certain things ("feeling" Vecna vs. feeling that something about the Digital World is "off"), even if that definitely isn’t their strongest comparison, see below.

Things they don't have in common:

They're different kinds of "nerds", artistic (+ D’n’D) nerd/genius vs. computer/science nerd/genius.

Unless we’re talking about Reboot!Koushirou, despite both of them having underlying self-esteem issues, Koushirou’s “otherness” doesn’t seem to bother him too much (as his self-esteem issues are rather resulting from him not not knowing where he comes from at first and then later whenever he is unable to function without his “knowledge”).

The whole deal about Will “getting possessed” and being “perceptive of some otherworldly (and/or dark) being” would actually be more fitting for Hikari, but for comparison’s sake... Let’s stick with what we have, shall we. Koushirou DOES have a strong intuition when something’s up after all.

How Byler reminds me of Taishirou:

The way they became friends is not exactly the same, but has similar implications - Mike saw Will on a swing in kindergarden and asked him to become his friend, which, in his own words, was “the best thing I ever did”. Whereas Koushirou joined the football club at their shared school, Taichi immediately took him under his wing as an upperclassman, making him “one of the few exceptions”, according to the novel. And without Taichi, Koushirou would “never have gone to Summer Camp”. The rest is history.

Hands on shoulders. Lots and lots of hands on shoulders. Also the (decreasing) height difference, of course.

My favourite comparison about them is their deep-rooted loyalty towards one another - even if Byler is definitely more vocal about it (”Crazy together?” - “Crazy together”, as Mike’s entire objective in the first season was to find Will), Taishirou are definitely devoted to one another as well (”I have believed in Taichi-san from the very beginning”).

The thing that actually sold me on the comparison was their growing communication issues though; Season 3!Byler is shown to be on bad terms, as Mike is trying very hard to outgrow his nerdy tendencies to impress El, whereas Will is craving for the old D’n’D days with his best friend - the most common fan theory here is that Mike is trying very hard to cover up his true feelings. Season 4 makes that even more apparent by having them “fight” over not having been in touch for 6 months. Taishirou are not explicitly drifting apart, but Taichi is pretty much implied to be drifting away from everyone and, according to the stageplay, lost sight of himself, without being able to confide in his best friend (and Koushirou has been vocal about being mad at Taichi for dealing with things by himself very early on).

Despite that, the devotion is still there - as mentioned above, Koushirou always believed in Taichi being “their leader” and Will always believed in Mike to be “the heart”. Will giving Mike his painting (which he specifically made for him) in season 4, reassuring him in his strengths, is basically synonymous with Stageplay!Koushirou giving Taichi his goggles (which he specifically made for him), and thus giving him his courage back as well. And in the end... They’ll always have each others backs if they manage to open up to one another.

Long story short, if Byler becomes canon in season 5, I will cherish this even more. One could also say... There’d be stranger things than that.

#taishirou #taishiro #byler #meta #my two cents #personal #i probably could have found more comparisons and pictures but i'm tired

[rothjuje]

*warning, vent ahead*

It is not very zen living in a 418 sqft place with 3 kids, a large dog, and a cat and with an urgent to-do list.

It wouldn’t be that bad if it was toddler-proofed. But the kitchen island has a granite countertop with sharp corners that is the perfect height for G&G to smack into. So many bruises. Then the couch is against the desk which is against the kitchen countertop, which is an open invitation for G&G to destroy the kitchen when I go to the bathroom. We got a tension rod to keep the bathroom door shut and things to close cabinets which has made things a bit easier at least.

I’ve thought a lot about this. The space and layout is actually great. If I had a house this size for our family of 5 and pets, it would be totally doable if we had a yard and could leave the dog/the kids had somewhere to play. Being attached to the hyperactive, whiny dog though is driving me bonkers. I would leave him during the day but he goes nuts when I step out to get coffee. He actually howls. It’s insanely loud. Maybe I could sedate him?

Everyone is telling me to pay double (not that we could afford to in the first place) and go to a bigger space but the space is not the problem. The problem is toddler-proofing which will be a problem everywhere and the damn dog. Justin could work from the room so I could leave the dog but he (obviously) can’t work when the kids are here and he has back to back meetings making it difficult to leave to get back to the dog. (He has to have his computer up and connected to WiFi during meetings). Having the dog also means no more beach or lake and the water has been so zen for me and the kids (no way I can physically handle a large dog and two toddlers solo). Doggy daycare isn’t an option, he’s too anxious (will actually make himself sick), isn’t vaccinated for kennel cough, and we simply don’t have the money right now. Our hotel, while affordable, is way above what our mortgage will be (which is already 1k more than our Texas mortgage was). Moving is so expensive, I think we went 15k over our moving package.

Sigh. 17 more days of this might actually make me go insane.

Anyway. Found out our small town has less (affordable) services for George. Which I assumed, but figured we could just go to the next town over. Didn’t realize everything would be tied to our ISD. What the shit, how can they do that? It’s so different than Texas here. Everyone is telling me I could try to get insurance to cover ABA, no. Stop. Not a conversation at this time, thank you.

I need to register Alyssa for kindergarten and schedule dentist appointments and pediatrician appointments for the kids. Justin’s birthday is tomorrow, he is going probably more insane than I am so I would like to make it nice for him. We also close tomorrow with zero childcare for closing. Not that I can leave George with a stranger anyway. So. Fun stuff. I guess Justin will sign while I sit with the kids in the car and then we’ll trade. Hopefully that won’t be an issue.

#moving is a nightmare