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northern-passage · 9 months

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just found one of my favorite pieces of writing advice when it comes to interactive fiction, i think if you've read literally any of my work, it will be pretty obvious how much i use this in my own writing. i actually couldn't remember where i read this for the first time and on a whim i went through my twitter likes and found it in a thread. i'm going to transcribe it for ease of reading, but this is all coming from Alexander Freed (@/AlexanderMFreed on twitter)

he has a website here with other compiled writing advice about branching narratives and game design, though he never posted this there and hasn't really updated recently (but still check it out. there's some specific entries about writing romance, branching and linear & other game writing advice)

original twitter thread here

It's Tuesday night and I feel like teaching some of what I've learned in 15 years of branching narrative video game writing. Let's go in-depth about one incredibly specific subject: neutral / fallthrough / catchall response options!

Player ownership of the protagonist in choice-based branching narrative games (a la BioWare, Telltale, mobile narrative games, etc) is a vital aspect of the form.

The ability for the audience to shape a Player Character, to develop that character's inner life in their own mind, is unmatched in any other medium.

The Player determines the character's actions and THE MOTIVATIONS for those actions. The character's psychology can literally be as complex as the Player can imagine. However, this works best when there's enough space for the Player to develop those motivations. No game can offer enough options to support every interpretation imaginable; much of the character has to live in the Player's head, without necessarily appearing on the screen.

That's complicated. We're going to unpack it.

Generally, when presenting choices to a Player, we want those choices to be as interesting and compelling as possible.

But compelling, dramatic choices tend to be revealing of character. And no game can support hundreds of options at every choice point for every possible character motivation a Player might imagine.

This sort of narrative CANNOT maintain its integrity if the Player is forced to constantly "rewrite" their characterization of the Player Character on the fly. You want your Player to feel like they have more than enough viable options at any given moment.

At the simplest level of writing, this is where "fallthrough" responses come in.

In the examples above, each moment contains a response which furthers the story but doesn't imply a huge emotional choice for the Player. The Player is asked to choose A or B, agree or disagree, but can sidestep the issue altogether if desired.

These "neutral" responses are vital if both A and B don't appeal to the Player... or if, perhaps, the Player likes A but not the WAY A is being expressed. Milquetoast option C works for anyone; thus, the Player is never forced to break character because of a lack of options.

Questions work well for this sort of neutral option. Tacit agreement and dead silence also serve, in certain sorts of stories--as a Player, I know what's going on in my silent character's head and the game won't contradict it.

The important thing is that I'm never forced to take a path that's outright WRONG for my character. Even if other characters misinterpret the Player Character's motivation, my character's inner life remains internally consistent.

"Neutral" responses aren't the only ways to go, though. Some responses are appropriate for any character because they're tied to the base character concept.

Here, for example (from @/seankmckeever's X-Files), the Player is a marine on a mission. The Player can respond abrasively to her partner's fear or look into the issue (out of compassion or genuine belief), but our fallthrough is actually the TOP response.

There's no version of our marine who would absolutely break character by picking "Stay calm and on mission." It's not blandly neutral; rather, it reinforces aspects of the character we can be sure of and gives the Player an option if nothing else works.

Different sorts of narratives will use different sorts of fallthroughs. A comedy might treat the option to say something funny as a fallthrough, of sorts--it's entertaining and will never violate the characterization the Player has created.

In a quest-driven RPG, a fallthrough response can often boil down to "How do I move to the next step of this quest?"

That said, the strongest moments in a narrative will often have no "fallthrough" response at all. They'll work by creating multiple responses that, by overlapping, cover all reasonable Player Character actions while still leaving room for the Player to ascribe motivation.

#cataloguing this before twitter explodes LOL #only thing i changed was the 'Player' pronouns because :-)#this was so fucking frustrating to do the tumblr post editor fucking sucks ass and kept breaking with every picture i added #i did add img descriptions... i did my best #also i cannot believe this is the guy that wrote the rogue one novelization #one of the best star wars books hands down #umm anyways #writing #interactive fiction

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six-white-venus · 3 months

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the mundanity of my grief disgusts me.

i go to class late every day and no one knows i'm rotting inside. the sun burns my skin and all i do is sigh because i forgot to bring money for a cab. a scream is forever stuck in my throat; stuck and never let out because that would be considered a public nuisance. my mom asks me what i want and what i want is a break but what I tell her is "anything but dosa" because that's the answer she wants to hear. your emotions are valid but they must be kept under tight wraps from 9am-5pm, 'cause it's important you stay sane during work hours. i sit cross-legged in my ratty sweatpants and write poetry and the hypocrisy of it sickens me to no end because ultimately i don't care as much as i should about the things i write. no, all i can think of is that i need to stop and start studying plant physiology. you can write odes and ballads about decay and call autumn the season of fallen angels but you still won't spare a glance at the pile of dried leaves on the side of the road because you can't be late to work.

you're sad but it's not hip or cool or pretty or even significant. i keep looking at the clock when i break down because I can't waste more than 30 minutes on this, that's plenty of time to wrap up all my drama and prepare for tomorrow's paper presentation. no one gives a fuck about your day but they should. it should be on the goddamn news, broadcasted on every channel because it's your day. a whole day. a day of your life, your world, your everything. no one cares but they should. but does it really matter, being on the news? no one watches the news anyway. oh look, you're out of groceries. you miss your mom's cooking. you seem to have a permanent headache these days and think of calling your uncle because he's a doctor. was. was a doctor. he's dead now. right. you're still out of groceries. wake, sleep, rinse, repeat.

the mundanity of my grief disgusts me. can someone burn down this world? i'd do it myself, but i have an exam this thursday.

#fellas poetry is hard when your life is monotonous as hell #you can't even be sad in a creative way #don't think i'm romanticizing grief btw sad sucks in all versions #im just saying this particular flavour sucks ass #wow i sure am an eloquent poet #my writing #prose poetry #words #writeblr #prose #grief #monotony #time

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proj-sh4dow · 5 months

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Might finish n colour this sometime

Don’t feel like colouring n allat rn,,

So here, doodles of the best totally canon duo ever

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kenobihater · 2 months

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of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)

#len speaks #star wars #revenge of the sith #empire strikes back #the force awakens #not tagging more films than that bc i cant b bothered. incoming tag ramble ahead bc i have sw brainrot rn and im making it everyones prob❤️#i rlly struggled 2 remember if id watched tfa or aotc more. i went w/ tfa bc it was formative to me as a teen and ive seen it probably 6ish #times? whereas aotc was the first sw movie i remember (specifically the scene of obiwan serving c*nt in the bar lmao) but i've only seen it #for sure 4.5 and maybe 5.5 times. the .5 is from when i got bored after obi-wan's scene ended and ran off to go play in the mud or smthn 😭#i'm sure tfa will eventually get surpassed in number of rewatches by aotc and rots bc i don't fw the direction of the ST but that's my #current ballpark estimate of my total number of rewatches #as an adult tho if i just wanna watch a star war i'll go with aotc bc it's fun and ends semihappily and i can turn my brain off for the #spinny lightsabers. it's great background noise or for if you're sick or whatever. rots on the other hand? i won't talk through that unless #i'm quoting it with my brother and i am LOCKED IN 100% entirely entranced by it all #i almost picked rogue one for the best quality answer but i think the character writing is weaker and the facial cgi is creepy. esb beats #it by a hair imho bc of that. the vader hallway scene goes hard tho!!!#also i'm not covering shows or games or books or anything else in this post - simply the films. might ask abt shows later but that might #also give me hives bc so many of the shows suck ass and i don't rlly want ppl extolling the virtues of t.bb in my notes 💀#and yes i do think one's enjoyment and one's opinion of quality are two things that often overlap. but sometimes you just like something #bad and that's awesome. like rots is the best of the prequels by a large margin and i adore the opening and characters and many of the #scenes but that doesn't mean it's the best star wars has to offer ykwim? it's my specialest most favoritest sw movie but that doesn't blind #me to the dialogue lmfaooo

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hijackalx · 5 months

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FORLORN +18

SUMMARY: Gortash attempts to fill the void you left with your changeling kin.

WORD COUNT: 3020

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, dark urge reader, gortash fucks orin in your shape, lowkey angsty, dom!gortash, brat!orin, they dont like each other, stripping, blindfolding, cowgirl, choking, gortash keeps his clothes on, experimental with POVs lol

Enver swirls the scarce amount of liquor around in his glass, staring at his warped reflection inside.

His reach falters after glancing over at the bottle on his desk, realizing that it has just a few measly drops remaining. He huffs, slumping deeper into his seat. The hand resting in his disheveled hair falls down his face, tugging at his flushed cheeks.

You've been gone for a month now. Orin told him that she hurt you— that she did something terrible. The details of the event are lost on him, as she won't even spare as much as the exact time it happened.

He supposes that's for the best, otherwise he'd find ways to blame himself worse than he already does. He should've kept Orin away from you, he should've seen the signs.

But he didn't. And now you're gone.

In his grief, images of you in his mind satiate him temporarily; how you'd laugh at his jokes with blood lacing your teeth, how you'd dance for him in the viscera of your victims. His dearest remembrance may be the way you always clung to him, glued to his side like an attack dog awaiting its next order. You were so eager to please, just as he was eager to reward you.

As per usual, these images gradually spiral into something more risqué, a haunting reminder of how deeply your connection had evolved just before you disappeared. A memory of you responding coyly to his praise turns into you looking desperate and pliant beneath him. An accidental graze of your hand turns into you scratching and tearing at his skin while he has his way with you. He reaches over his shoulder to grace one of the affected areas, making note of how much it's healed, taking any traces of you with it in the process.

More importantly, he recalls the way his hands felt on your body. The rough, warmth of his palms knew every inch of your skin, though it seems nowadays their memory grows hazy. He can't forget, and he'll take whatever measures he has to in preventing that.

Even if those measures in-dignify him like no other, he'll do it— for you.

He stares at the button on his desk with reluctance. A pit opens up in his stomach as a hesitant finger hovers over it. Gods, has he drank too much? Or is he going to be sick with humiliation?

He clears his throat, preparing to maintain a steady impression of sobriety.

"... Somebody locate and escort Orin to my office."

He wonders if they've caught on to what that means by now. The thought is brief as he shoos it away like a burdensome fly, his chair creaking while he sinks into it once again.

It isn't long before the doors open. Orin enters the office accompanied by a Steel Watcher, the machine following her close behind.

She smugly approaches his desk, a conquering grin on her face that he'd like to wipe off with methods he shouldn't say aloud.

The Steel Watcher turns on its heels, taking a few heavy steps before leaving them in the quiet of the room.

Alone.

Enver downs the last of his drink in one, quick motion. His dark eyes follow Orin's figure, though they almost seem to look right through her.

She circles him like a vulture, her hand trailing over his arm. "Well," she starts, her voice as theatric and ear-piercing as always. "I do hope you have something different in mind for today, little lord."

His lips hold a tight line, his gaze fixing on the scattered papers atop his desk. "Change," he demands.

Orin huffs exasperatedly from behind his chair. "Agh! Again with the pouting and moping—!" her voice warps mid-sentence, carrying a familiar lilt that makes his heart skip a beat. "— you're no less of a sorry excuse for a tyrant than when I was around to see it."

His head turns quickly as she comes back into view, no longer herself, but you. He swallows harshly, his mouth parting as he gazes upon your dearly missed features.

It's like you're really there— as long as he avoids your eyes, that is. She can never get them quite right, and they pull him out of his fantasy like a sucker punch.

He reaches out for you, his plated grasp cooly caressing your wrist. Flipping your hand, he runs his thumb over your palm, admiring every line and crevice. How often he tended to the wounds gifted by your own fits of violence, how often he'd kissed your blood-stained fingertips.

Orin sneers and roughly jerks herself away. "Cease your bleeding heart," she hisses. "Lest I rip it out."

She laughs in his face cruelly, relishing in the idea of clawing through his chest and pulling the blood-pumping organ from its chamber.

He shakes off the surprise from being slung back into reality so coarsely. With grit teeth, he catches her by her forearm and yanks her face just inches from his. "Behave, or I will do away with you like any other useless object."

Stunned, her irises dart back and forth between his, her features contorting into a mixture of fear and submission. Through frowned lips, she utters with a shaky breath, "... you'd really do that to me?"

For a moment, her disguise is all too convincing, and he finds himself instantly regretting his loss of temper.

Orin's trickery becomes obvious as she bursts into another fit of maniacal laughter. "You're weak, little lord! Oh, how I wish to carve your expression into your face so you might carry it forever!"

Enver slouches, his fingers massaging his temple while she prattles on. How much of this is really worth it? He gets to see you again, but not without paying the price of mental torment.

"Every second they're gone, you soften like the flesh of a babe!"

A deep exhale leaves his nose. "I've changed my mind. Away with you." He waves her off dismissively. He supposes he'll just have to find you in the dark room of a brothel instead.

Her cackling ceases, the split corners of her mouth falling. She appears to contemplate for a moment before dropping to her knees. "No, no," she begs, crawling closer so she can lay her head in his lap. "I'll be good."

He stares down at her with little regard— at how she looks up at him with a hint of desperation. She's in character again, but for how long? He's had enough of her games.

Just as he's about to double down, she speaks once more, "You know I can be good—" her lips pull into a convincing smile, sly and quick. "—Enver."

The sound of you speaking his name again is so much sweeter than anything his imagination could ever conjure. It grabs him by the jaw, paralyzing him.

He becomes heavily fixated on how your fingers tease at his inner thigh, the digits so delicate and nimble; how they wander so endearingly with their faux innocence. His breaths heighten, the tendons in his hand becoming prominent as he flexes it to maintain composure.

She lifts her head as he cups her cheek. Her look of triumph is ripped away when his slithering hand burrows into her hair and yanks, angling her head upward. She responds with a glare and a scowl.

Slowly, he leans closer, anticipation looming in the air before he speaks. "Undress," he orders, the alcohol on his breath filling her flared nostrils.

After she's released, she takes stance just outside the parting of his knees. Holding the intensity of his gaze, she reaches for the buttons of your blouse. She knows the drill— strip for him, nice and slow. It's the same every time.

Once she undoes the final button, she lets the soft fabric slip down your shoulders, revealing your supple breasts. He stares from under his brow as she runs her hands over them, using her thumb to play with your nipple.

Letting the shirt fall to the floor, she moves on to your pants. They wriggle off of your hips, revealing silky, touchable skin.

He runs his tongue over his lip as she sneaks a finger under the hem of your panties, letting them snap back against your body teasingly.

A warning glance is sent her way as she takes double the time removing the final garment. She rolls her eyes, dropping them to the floor with the rest of your clothing.

His chest rises with a slow, deep breath, reveling in the sight of you; how badly he wishes it weren't a facade.

As she approaches him, his lustful gaze follows your figure from the bottom up. Once he reaches your eyes, he stops there, lingering. His expression becomes rigid, and he puts out a hand to stop her from climbing onto him.

She leers at him with an already-knowing stare, then scoffs before wandering off towards his bedroom.

"Such a demanding, scrutinizing little bastard," she can be heard mumbling in the distance, distaste on her tongue.

When she returns, she has a black piece of fabric in her palms. She offers it to him, and he raises it to her face. It covers her eyes, blinding her once he ties a knot at the back of her head.

He's almost taken aback as he looks her over again— now, without traces of Orin in your gaze, he sees you.

You're finally allowed access to his lap. Although, your face has tensed, a deepness to your brow. "I make no mistakes. Any imperfections you notice are merely a reflection of your own sickly, deteriorating mind." You cradle him, letting his hands run over your body. "Perhaps you'd like me to take a look inside and fix that for you."

He ignores the words spoken under the guise of your voice, instead focusing on how your skin feels in his grasp once again. It's so warm and soft, so impossibly smooth. His fingertips trace over your beauty marks and scars as if to ensure they're where he remembers.

One of his bare fingers runs through the folds of your cunt, reinforcing the memories of its wet, velvety touch. His cock twitches, recalling how you'd tighten while you came— how he'd pump you full of his own cum time and time again.

Impatient, you grind down on his hard-on, and he responds with a sharp inhale. You continue the motion, getting off on how he feels through his pants.

He rakes in his bottom lip as he watches your lower half stir. His burly hands find purchase on your hips, the golden points on his fingers threatening to draw blood.

Unable to put it off any longer, he frees his cock from his boxers, giving himself a few pumps with his hand while ogling your figure. He uses his thumb to bring precum to your lips, which you clean off with your tongue.

An anticipatory groan erupts deep in his throat as he adjusts himself so that you can take him in.

Since you can no longer see, you rely on him to guide you onto his length. He's so large and difficult to accommodate— that was something you always struggled with.

He lolls his head back as his tip breaches your entrance, your pillowy walls satiating the hunger in him that'd been brewing so deep.

A few moments pass and he's able to sink into you a bit further. He knows it aches as it forces your legs wider apart, but he loves that you try. You've always tried for him.

A shuddering exhale leaves his lips as you begin to move, gripping his forearms while he steadies you by your waist. His hold is secure, yet an underlying buzz of anxiousness hides within it.

You let out sounds of slight discomfort as he stretches you out. His hand lifts to comfort you, but it quickly retracts before making contact. He had almost forgotten that you are not you.

His face hardens at the realization, a sudden wave of hatred and anger rattling his bones. It's Orin's fault you're not here, why's he wasting his time being gentle with her?

With a curl to his lip, his gold fingertips latch onto her, and he forces her the rest of the way down. She yowls, a pained arch in her back.

In a quick act of retaliation, she smacks him across the face. The noise reverberates through the room's tall ceilings, followed by silence. He turns to look at her again, a red mark beginning to taint his cheek.

"I will hang you from the rafters by your own intestines!" She shrieks at him, her nails digging into his exposed chest. Leaning close to his ear, she hisses, "I may look like your spineless little whore, but I can assure you our similarities are few and far between—!"

Her sentence is cut off as a hand wraps around her throat, pushing on her esophagus with increasing pressure. She chokes, pulling at his decorated fingers to no avail.

"If I hear you utter such disrespect again, I'll see to it that you're rendered unrecognizable and scattered throughout the trenches of this city," he threatens lowly and quick, a snarl on his face while he watches her squirm.

He can practically see his threat playing out in her mind like some sick fantasy. The corners of her mouth twitch before spreading into an uncontrollable smile. "Quite... the Lothario... tyrant boy," she pushes a moan past his grip that evolves into excited laughter.

His hold loosens as she begins to move up and down his length once more. Her jaw— your jaw— falls slack as you take pleasure from him filling you up. He finds himself captivated by how your cunt strains around him, leaving a creamy residue behind.

"Fuck," he mutters defeatedly, feeling himself weaken by the second. For as long as she looks like you, she has the upper hand.

Once the strength of his chokehold wavers, he allows you to take his hand and touch yourself with it, guiding it over your breasts and waist. Your hands contrast heavily; he's quite fond of how dainty yours look in comparison.

His touch settles at your hips, fastening you in his grasp as he begins to fuck you from beneath. He stares up at your partially covered face as you bounce in his lap, watching how each sound you make leaves your mouth.

He starts to feel that familiar anxiousness once again— he needs more control, he needs to dominate. In one swift movement, he picks you up and lays you over the documents on his desk, scattering most of them to the floor.

He directs your thighs around his torso, spreading you open further. Your back arches as he bottoms out in one quick thrust, the hair at his base brushing against you.

With one hand he secures your wrists above your head, then balances himself with the other. The jewelry lacing his clothing clatters as he slams into you repeatedly, a throaty moan leaving his lips.

There's a sense of deprivation to him, so much so that it drips from his every movement, every touch, every sound. He starves like a lowly stray, and you've always been the only hand he won't bite.

You begin to glow with a sheen of sweat, though he refrains from tasting the salt on your skin. The harsh reality of your condition hangs in the back of his mind, and he worries that even a grain of intimacy will enable it to come forward. Despite how badly he wishes to kiss your lips and bruise your neck, he just can't.

He moans as his body grows tense, his pace losing its consistent rhythm. His cheeks are flushed, a haziness to his gaze as he grips your wrists tighter, leaving marks behind.

With bared teeth, his eyes screw shut. He reaches his climax, and you let out soft whimpers as he rams into you with a few final hard thrusts. In just seconds, hot, thick cum stains your walls and threatens to leak onto the desk.

His head hangs wearily as he catches his breath, allowing himself to come down from his high. He looks you over— how you lay, unmoving and quiet. Something that can only be described as remorse twists in his stomach, though it's not unfamiliar in this circumstance.

Then, there's silence. It infects the atmosphere of the office, bordering on unsettling.

He exhales, running his fingers through the hair sticking to his forehead. Pulling out of you, he begins the process of recomposing himself. While adjusting his pants, he notices your body writhing and twitching in his peripheral.

Every trace of your likeness slowly withers away, transforming you back into your true form— Orin.

She lifts the blindfold from her eyes, a terribly wide grin on her black lips. She sits up on the desk, taking delight in the slight horror on his features. "How could I ever tire of that look?" she hums.

With a thick swallow, his expression contorts into anger. He observes the mess they've made— the paperwork strung all over the floor, the spilled ink dripping from its canister. "Get out." A crease forms between his brows as he starts gathering documents.

She lingers a moment longer, swinging her crossed legs as they hang off the edge.

Her lack of urgency is enough to make the already-taut rage in him snap. "GET OUT!" he shouts in her face, the papers in his hand crinkling under his unforgiving grip.

She hops onto the floor, her hands folded behind her back as she stares up into his glower. The tension grows between them like an unsightly weed while neither shies away.

As if in thought, her mouth parts before she finally speaks, "... I'll see you again soon, lordling."

Shortly after that, she turns to leave, his eyes following.

Her words ring in his ears, causing his upright shoulders to sink. His hand pulls on the lower half of his face defeatedly, a loud sigh escaping his nose.

#this was extremely difficult to write and got way longer than i was going to make it lol it was supposed to be a drabble #the POVs were beating my ass please clap even if it sucks. ill take a pity clap #enver gortash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #orin the red #the dark urge #enver gortash x dark urge #gortash x orin #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash x tav

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mirusx · 3 months

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does anyone grasp the depth of grief, persistence, and hope all at the same time from these supposedly just system notifications? please bear with me and my incoherence bcs i might actually be losing my mind????? i apologize in advance

[Story, --, has begun its storytelling once more.]

[Story, --, is continuing on with its storytelling.]

and then kindly replace those '--' with a story like "Life and Death Companions" or other stories affiliated with kdj and kimcom.

Orv has repeatedly emphasized how people are stories and how we are all just stories trying to understand each other. Seeing these 'stories' that were made from kdj and other's connection trying to continue on and starting once more evoke emotions deep inside me. Because Kdj and every member of kimcom live on through these 'stories', they embody the stories that they obtain. They're the ones who want to continue on and to begin once more. Because 'once more' implies that it has already come to an end at one time, and 'continuing on' means persevering despite of.

like resisting permanent death.

It's like no matter what catastrophe befall the world or the universe and how long these stories and connections may stay dormant, they will always awaken once someone remembers them. Once someone speaks of them. It's like how people have this irrational fear of being forgotten, and so being remembered, being told, and being shared just like a story somehow realize our existences. And we all know that these system notifications appear when the people involved in the story are wielding their shared story/experience to get through something(scenarios) or to someone(between themselves) and hope that the stories they've created are good enough to be acknowledged. Whenever the system narrates a story— one, both, or all of the parties included in the story want to be seen, recognized, and understood as we all crave to be good enough to continue being somebody in at least someone's story— in someone's life. It's like our souls despairing and rejoicing at the same time, "i'm here! i'm still here. i'm still continuing on. our story's still existing.", pleading to be read.

and so once someone recognizes our story, connected with us, and understood us— our story continues on despite of, and it begins once more even when it might have ceased at one point. It tells this new story of not being forgotten

and how our existences— our already written stories, always endure. just like theirs.

....the grief, the persistence, and the hope of it all.

[Story, Life and Death Companions, has begun its storytelling once more.]

[Story, Life and Death Companions, is continuing on with its storytelling.]

fuck did this even make sense im so sorry. i just really needed to get this off my head, it's rotting my brain

#nothing is more stubborn than the stories that love dokja‚ they will always prevail and conquer anything #so u better be back with them dokja cause i really cant anymore #why am i writing this at 6am with no sleep #is this even coherent im sleepy #this is all because of all the post epilogue fanworks that ive seen and read and how almost all of them incorporated those-#system notifications whenever kdj the company reunites or have a very meaningful moment #and it just shattered my brain #is yhis cringe imnsleeoy im sorry #now im sleepless and incoherent zfuck #please someone say that u at least undestood what im tryna say 😭#im not good with expressing i suck ass at it #orv #omniscient readers viewpoint #omniscient reader #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #kim dokja's company #kimcom #han sooyoung #yoo joonghyuk #life and death companions #joongdok #kdj #yjh

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stewyhosseini-bf · 1 year

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Honestly think what’s devastating about Ken snapping at Tom for the ‘you sound a little unhinged’ line was that I never would’ve expected that reaction cause that wasn’t even the worst thing Tom’s said to shiv, even just that day. You kinda forget it’s all happening behind closed doors cause we, the audience, see it all, so for Ken to lose his shit at him over it is just like … a reality check ig

#two things:#a) do we think this is in the script or improvised. cause the ‘don’t fucking touch him was improvised’… but also we know the writers adapt #to the actors so I can see them writing that bc of that scene #anyway. and b) I know Ken would kill Tom’s ass if he head half the things from that 4x7 or 4x8 convo. anyone who disagrees suck my conk. idc #cause if there’s one thing we know it’s that he will defend his siblings from day one to forever whether they fight or make terrible #decisions with world shattering consequences #doesn’t make any of his other actions less awful but I’m just saying that’s integral to who he is as a character and you either get it or #you simply don’t understand #succession spoilers #succession #kendall roy #shiv Roy

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saetoru · 7 months

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i think taking a break from writing smut for like almost a year has been rly refreshing bc i think it made me stop questioning if my writing is interesting without sex and just write it how i want. and then tbh a part of me has realized i like writing without the sex half the time. it’s nice. it’s fun to explore intimacy in as many non sexual ways as you can

#not that i don’t like writing smut #bc tbh sometimes u just have to write gojo cumming #to feel fulfilled #but #yeah idk #dipping my toes back into sm.ut has been a journey #bc on one hand i actually didn’t like it at all when i started writing it again #i was like bro how did i write this so often #this sucks ass i will go back to sfw fluff cuteness #but then i slowly got back into the swing of things #and now it’s like #ok yeah i did miss this a bit #but i think if anything #the break was good for me it made me #overall more confident in my writing and it’s ability to compel / draw in an audience without sex appeal #but also just have more plot based development #which is why i’m so happy w that post canon geto fic #bc me of a year ago #could never fathom writing 10k words of no smut #yeah anyway ramble over #but that being said #ima till write pure filth for october LMAO

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beaker1636 · 7 months

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F is For Face Sitting - Vinny

a/n: So if you didn't figure it out I kind of hinted that Lottie was a bit insecure about not being the smallest girl out there in the last part and I really played with that in this chapter in a way that I found really sweet and loving between her and Vin. So this one is a really fluffy smut and hopefully you guys like it as I took kind of a different route with this than I originally planned. I love you all and appreciate all the kid words I keep getting with this, I’ve been really putting myself out there and trying new things with this fic so all the kind comments mean a lot to me!

Also probably won’t get much posted until Thursday or Friday so sorry if you don’t get any updates for awhile!

“Are you trying to get me killed, there is no way Lottie is going to allow me to do that with her tonight,” Vinny groans as he sends the message in the chat back to Chris, wanting to fling his phone across the room.

“Why not? It’s not even that weird or anything, is it like Mia said about how she needs more confidence?” Chris responds quickly, making Vinny want to bury himself in a hole.

“She hates doing anything where she has to be on top because she is worried she’s too big, no matter how much I try to convince her otherwise it never works. Hell last night she was off because she was embarrassed about being around all the girls in the pool because she is the only “bigger” one and she isn’t even that big. It’s a rough subject okay,” he hits send, now worried if you found out that he said something if you’d be upset.

“But she isn’t even that big, listen, give her a really nice night with a relaxing dinner, maybe a relaxing bath and then focus on her. Let her know all you are aiming to do tonight is take care of her and maybe you can slowly coax her out of it, remind her how beautiful she is and that you are lucky. If you build her up enough you will be able to get her to try and might help build her confidence some… and based off comments on the photo Mia posted of the two of you you may need to do that. People are being assholes towards her.” Vin reads the message and immediately panics, pulling up Mia’s instagram and suddenly feeling angered at some of the things that are being said.

“Fuck, how do I fix that? If she has seen it then she’s gonna be a wreck when she gets home from work,” Vinny thinks to himself groaning, “Why do people need to be assholes?”

Rather than saying anything he decides the easiest way to get the point across that he doesn’t give a shit about any of it is to post a photo he has of the two of you that Rick caught a while ago, his favorite photo of the two of you that neither of you have posted before. He doesn’t remember what the two of you were laughing at but the smile on your face always makes him smile when he sees it. He makes a quick caption about how beautiful you are caught in the moment and left it at that, hoping that people would get the hint and lay off you.

He smiles to himself when he sees you respond to him comment with I love you.

He sends you a quick message telling you he is going to meet you at your place in a little bit now that he knows you are off work and that he is bringing dinner over so you don’t need to worry about anything.

Later

Vinny opens your front door and smiles when he hears the shower, knowing that you must have just gotten home from work if you are still in the shower. Setting the food he picked up down on your coffee table he makes his way towards your bathroom, knocking before slipping in.

“Hey baby, just letting you know that I am here,” He says, trailing off when he hears what music you have playing, it is what you listen to when you are in a bad mood. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

“I will be, give me a few minutes to have my moment and then I’ll be out,” you respond, he can tell by the tone of your voice that you have been crying, his heart falling when he knows what it is about.

“Baby, get out of the shower, we need to talk about this,” He says softly, hoping that you will listen and feeling better when he hears the water turn off, the curtain slowly opens just barely so you can reach your hand out, grabbing your towels to wrap around you and your hair before you open it the rest of the way and step out.

“Come here, let's go to the room. I want to show you everything about you that I find attractive, that others find attractive, baby,” he says quietly, reaching for your hand so he can lead you towards your room.

He is a little upset that you don’t fight him, normally you put up a huge fight when he drags you somewhere so he knows you really are out of it. He moves you and has you sit on the edge of the bed, facing your full vanity mirror, giving a kiss before he moves so you can see yourself in the mirror.

“Let’s start with your hands, the hands you use to take care of children all day, that you use to wipe their tears away, clean their faces, cradle them when they need some love, play with them. The few times I have witnessed you with your class I love seeing the way you use them to take care of the kids, to take care of everyone when you can.” He gives one of your hands a light kiss before setting them on your lap.

“Vin, you don’t have to do this. I’ll get over it eventually,” you whisper softly, meeting his eyes in the mirror for a moment while blushing.

“I know but I want to Lottie,” he responds, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “Your arms, the way they wrap so tightly around me and those you care about, the way you wrap them around your work kids when they run up to you when we go out and one of them sees you. I would be lying if I said that I don’t sometimes get jealous of the kids that you hold onto all day and love on in your arms, but I am the lucky one that gets to be in them at night, that you pull into your chest while you play with my hair and we just talk or I game for awhile,” he says softly, rubbing his hands along your arms while you continue to watch him.

When his hands reach the top of your towel where it is tucked around you he notices you suck in a breath, the way you tense under his touch so he pauses for a moment. “Hey, it’s just me, you don’t need to be shy for me Lottie.”

When he undoes it he lightly runs his hands along your stomach, one of the places he knows you are really insecure about. “I love that you are soft and cuddly, you are strong. I love that when we curl up and you envelope me in your arms that I can be comfortable as I lay on your soft belly and chest. It brings me so much comfort when I use you as a pillow, there is a reason why I try to lay my head on you a lot when we are cuddled up in bed. I couldn’t do that with someone that is smaller, I love being curled up with you and comfortable. My favorite place to rest my hands is on your waist when you are around me, I don’t know why it just brings me comfort.”

Before you can protest he moves so that he can leave a kiss on your lips, trailing down to make sure he leaves gentle kisses on your love handles and stretch marks, the places that he knows you are the most uncomfortable with, that you usually get annoyed with when he tries to touch them.

He stops when he gets lower to sit up and watch you again in the mirror as he settles back behind you once again, this time his hands resting on your thighs. “We’re at my favorite part, I love your squishy thighs and butt. They look so good in your jeans when you are walking, they are so comfortable to sit in or lay my head in. They keep you up on your feet when you chase littles all day, and I know they love getting to sit in your lap with you. I love the way you wrap them around me when I get you all needy and you want me to just get you past the finish line already.” He ghosts his fingers towards your center when he says this, smiling slightly to himself when he feels you shudder.

“Now arguably one of my favorite parts of you, I would be lying if I tried to pretend that it wasn’t,” he smiles slightly when he hears you giggle at his words. “I love it when you get all wet and needy for me, when you draw my fingers and my cock in as you get closer and closer to falling over the edge, I love the way you taste when you let me taste you and get you going.”

He runs a finger along your opening towards your clit, making you squirm in your spot as he begins to tease you slightly, knowing that he is getting you worked up and also raising your mood and confidence slightly. He uses his other hand to let your hair loose, brushing it away from one of your ears before leaning in to whisper, “Let me worship you baby, please ride my face tonight, take the pleasure you need from me.”

He notices you freeze up but continues to tease you, the one hand still barely grazing your clit while the other reaches around you to lightly toy with one of your nipples, trying to get you to the point you won’t think about it, that you will just let him do what he wants to do.

“Vin,” you start to say with a sigh.

“You’re not going to hurt me, if I need you to move I will let you know. Please, let me pleasure you, show you how much I love you and your body,” he asks, moving to lay down on the bed behind you.

Hesitantly you move, leaning yourself over him but not sitting down like he wants you to, nervous to be trying something new, especially when you’d be putting your weight on him.

Getting impatient Vinny grabs your thighs, pulling you down on top of him so that he can begin to tease your folds with his tongue. Running it from your entrance to your clit several times knowing that motion drives you nuts before finally sucking harshly on your clit for a second, making you arch your back and moan at the feeling.

“There you go, rock yourself on me, take what you want,” Vinny encourages, moving his hands to your hips as he urges you to rock them as he continues to tease you with his tongue, knowing he is bring you close when you now are moving yourself, starting to take it into your own hands as you moan on top of him.

He moves a hand so he can slip two of his fingers inside of you, knowing that the added sensations of them working inside of you as you work yourself on top of him will set you off, and he is correct. With a couple more swivels of your hips, with his tongue working at your clit you come undone on top of him.

He lays his head back so he can watch you as your face tightens and you throw your head back as you ride out and slowly come back down from the orgasm he just gave you. You slipping your legs over his head so that you can move and lay down next to him on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly as you come down from everything that just happened.

“I told you that I would be fine, just because you aren’t the smallest wouldn’t mean you would hurt me. I love your body baby, you do such amazing things with it and I wish you could see that… but I’ll keep worshiping you and telling you until you believe me,” he says softly, giving you a kiss and trying not to laugh when you grimace at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“I’m going to go brush my teeth and then reheat our dinner, go get dressed baby,” he says softly, making his way back to the bathroom that you both left about a half an hour earlier so he can do that.

When you slip into the kitchen where he is warming dinner back up for the two of you you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his back as you rest your face on his now shirtless frame.

“Thank you Vin, I love you,” you hum softly, feeling a lot better after all his praise and kind words. “I know I should ignore it, but it never gets easier having those comments directed at me, being the bigger one of all our group of friends.”

“I know, but you aren’t even that big babe. And all that matters is that you and I love it and are happy, and I am. I love you just how you are. Now why don’t we take our food and go watch (your favorite movie)?” He asks, turning around to wrap his arms around you as well, your head now resting on his chest.

“That sounds wonderful, thank you Vin,” you say softly, following him towards your couch to go and do just that, curling up next to him the second the two of you are done with dinner so you can enjoy the rest of your night together.

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