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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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Greenwashing set Canada on fire

On September 22, I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

As a teenager growing up in Ontario, I always envied the kids who spent their summers tree planting; they'd come back from the bush in September, insect-chewed and leathery, with new muscle, incredible stories, thousands of dollars, and a glow imparted by the knowledge that they'd made a new forest with their own blistered hands.

I was too unathletic to follow them into the bush, but I spent my summers doing my bit, ringing doorbells for Greenpeace to get my neighbours fired up about the Canadian pulp-and-paper industry, which wasn't merely clear-cutting our old-growth forests – it was also poisoning the Great Lakes system with PCBs, threatening us all.

At the time, I thought of tree-planting as a small victory – sure, our homegrown, rapacious, extractive industry was able to pollute with impunity, but at least the government had reined them in on forests, forcing them to pay my pals to spend their summers replacing the forests they'd fed into their mills.

I was wrong. Last summer's Canadian wildfires blanketed the whole east coast and midwest in choking smoke as millions of trees burned and millions of tons of CO2 were sent into the atmosphere. Those wildfires weren't just an effect of the climate emergency: they were made far worse by all those trees planted by my pals in the eighties and nineties.

Writing in the New York Times, novelist Claire Cameron describes her own teen years working in the bush, planting row after row of black spruces, precisely spaced at six-foot intervals:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/15/opinion/wildfires-treeplanting-timebomb.html

Cameron's summer job was funded by the logging industry, whose self-pegulated, self-assigned "penalty" for clearcutting diverse forests of spruce, pine and aspen was to pay teenagers to create a tree farm, at nine cents per sapling (minus camp costs).

Black spruces are made to burn, filled with flammable sap and equipped with resin-filled cones that rely on fire, only opening and dropping seeds when they're heated. They're so flammable that firefighters call them "gas on a stick."

Cameron and her friends planted under brutal conditions: working long hours in blowlamp heat and dripping wet bulb humidity, amidst clouds of stinging insects, fingers blistered and muscles aching. But when they hit rock bottom and were ready to quit, they'd encourage one another with a rallying cry: "Let's go make a forest!"

Planting neat rows of black spruces was great for the logging industry: the even spacing guaranteed that when the trees matured, they could be easily reaped, with ample space between each near-identical tree for massive shears to operate. But that same monocropped, evenly spaced "forest" was also optimized to burn.

It burned.

The climate emergency's frequent droughts turn black spruces into "something closer to a blowtorch." The "pines in lines" approach to reforesting was an act of sabotage, not remediation. Black spruces are thirsty, and they absorb the water that moss needs to thrive, producing "kindling in the place of fire retardant."

Cameron's column concludes with this heartbreaking line: "Now when I think of that summer, I don’t think that I was planting trees at all. I was planting thousands of blowtorches a day."

The logging industry committed a triple crime. First, they stole our old-growth forests. Next, they (literally) planted a time-bomb across Ontario's north. Finally, they stole the idealism of people who genuinely cared about the environment. They taught a generation that resistance is futile, that anything you do to make a better future is a scam, and you're a sucker for falling for it. They planted nihilism with every tree.

That scam never ended. Today, we're sold carbon offsets, a modern Papal indulgence. We are told that if we pay the finance sector, they can absolve us for our climate sins. Carbon offsets are a scam, a market for lemons. The "offset" you buy might be a generated by a fake charity like the Nature Conservancy, who use well-intentioned donations to buy up wildlife reserves that can't be logged, which are then converted into carbon credits by promising not to log them:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/12/fairy-use-tale/#greenwashing

The credit-card company that promises to plant trees every time you use your card? They combine false promises, deceptive advertising, and legal threats against critics to convince you that you're saving the planet by shopping:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/17/do-well-do-good-do-nothing/#greenwashing

The carbon offset world is full of scams. The carbon offset that made the thing you bought into a "net zero" product? It might be a forest that already burned:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/11/a-market-for-flaming-lemons/#money-for-nothing

The only reason we have carbon offsets is that market cultists have spent forty years convincing us that actual regulation is impossible. In the neoliberal learned helplessness mind-palace, there's no way to simply say, "You may not log old-growth forests." Rather, we have to say, "We will 'align your incentives' by making you replace those forests."

The Climate Ad Project's "Murder Offsets" video deftly punctures this bubble. In it, a detective points his finger at the man who committed the locked-room murder in the isolated mansion. The murderer cheerfully admits that he did it, but produces a "murder offset," which allowed him to pay someone else not to commit a murder, using market-based price-discovery mechanisms to put a dollar-figure on the true worth of a murder, which he duly paid, making his kill absolutely fine:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#killer-analogy

What's the alternative to murder offsets/carbon credits? We could ask our expert regulators to decide which carbon intensive activities are necessary and which ones aren't, and ban the unnecessary ones. We could ask those regulators to devise remediation programs that actually work. After all, there are plenty of forests that have already been clearcut, plenty that have burned. It would be nice to know how we can plant new forests there that aren't "thousands of blowtorches."

If that sounds implausible to you, then you've gotten trapped in the neoliberal mind-palace.

The term "regulatory capture" was popularized by far-right Chicago School economists who were promoting "public choice theory." In their telling, regulatory capture is inevitable, because companies will spend whatever it takes to get the government to pass laws making what they do legal, and making competing with them into a crime:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/13/public-choice/#ajit-pai-still-terrible

This is true, as far as it goes. Capitalists hate capitalism, and if an "entrepreneur" can make it illegal to compete with him, he will. But while this is a reasonable starting-point, the place that Public Choice Theory weirdos get to next is bonkers. They say that since corporations will always seek to capture their regulators, we should abolish regulators.

They say that it's impossible for good regulations to exist, and therefore the only regulation that is even possible is to let businesses do whatever they want and wait for the invisible hand to sweep away the bad companies. Rather than creating hand-washing rules for restaurant kitchens, we should let restaurateurs decide whether it's economically rational to make us shit ourselves to death. The ones that choose poorly will get bad online reviews and people will "vote with their dollars" for the good restaurants.

And if the online review site decides to sell "reputation management" to restaurants that get bad reviews? Well, soon the public will learn that the review site can't be trusted and they'll take their business elsewhere. No regulation needed! Unleash the innovators! Set the job-creators free!

This is the Ur-nihilism from which all the other nihilism springs. It contends that the regulations we have – the ones that keep our buildings from falling down on our heads, that keep our groceries from poisoning us, that keep our cars from exploding on impact – are either illusory, or perhaps the forgotten art of a lost civilization. Making good regulations is like embalming Pharaohs, something the ancients practiced in mist-shrouded, unrecoverable antiquity – and that may not have happened at all.

Regulation is corruptible, but it need not be corrupt. Regulation, like science, is a process of neutrally adjudicated, adversarial peer-review. In a robust regulatory process, multiple parties respond to a fact-intensive question – "what alloys and other properties make a reinforced steel joist structurally sound?" – with a mix of robust evidence and self-serving bullshit and then proceed to sort the two by pantsing each other, pointing out one another's lies.

The regulator, an independent expert with no conflicts of interest, sorts through the claims and counterclaims and makes a rule, showing their workings and leaving the door open to revisiting the rule based on new evidence or challenges to the evidence presented.

But when an industry becomes concentrated, it becomes unregulatable. 100 small and medium-sized companies will squabble. They'll struggle to come up with a common lie. There will always be defectors in their midst. Their conduct will be legible to external experts, who will be able to spot the self-serving BS.

But let that industry dwindle to a handful of giant companies, let them shrink to a number that will fit around a boardroom table, and they will sit down at a table and agree on a cozy arrangement that fucks us all over to their benefit. They will become so inbred that the only people who understand how they work will be their own insiders, and so top regulators will be drawn from their own number and be hopelessly conflicted.

When the corporate sector takes over, regulatory capture is inevitable. But corporate takeover isn't inevitable. We can – and have, and will again – fight corporate power, with antitrust law, with unions, and with consumer rights groups. Knowing things is possible. It simply requires that we keep the entities that profit by our confusion poor and thus weak.

The thing is, corporations don't always lie about regulations. Take the fight over working encryption, which – once again – the UK government is trying to ban:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/feb/24/signal-app-warns-it-will-quit-uk-if-law-weakens-end-to-end-encryption

Advocates for criminalising working encryption insist that the claims that this is impossible are the same kind of self-serving nonsense as claims that banning clearcutting of old-growth forests is impossible:

https://twitter.com/JimBethell/status/1699339739042599276

They say that when technologists say, "We can't make an encryption system that keeps bad guys out but lets good guys in," that they are being lazy and unimaginative. "I have faith in you geeks," they said. "Go nerd harder! You'll figure it out."

Google and Apple and Meta say that selectively breakable encryption is impossible. But they also claim that a bunch of eminently possible things are impossible. Apple claims that it's impossible to have a secure device where you get to decide which software you want to use and where publishers aren't deprive of 30 cents on every dollar you spend. Google says it's impossible to search the web without being comprehensively, nonconsensually spied upon from asshole to appetite. Meta insists that it's impossible to have digital social relationship without having your friendships surveilled and commodified.

While they're not lying about encryption, they are lying about these other things, and sorting out the lies from the truth is the job of regulators, but that job is nearly impossible thanks to the fact that everyone who runs a large online service tells the same lies – and the regulators themselves are alumni of the industry's upper eschelons.

Logging companies know a lot about forests. When we ask, "What is the best way to remediate our forests," the companies may well have useful things to say. But those useful things will be mixed with actively harmful lies. The carefully cultivated incompetence of our regulators means that they can't tell the difference.

Conspiratorialism is characterized as a problem of what people believe, but the true roots of conspiracy belief isn't what we believe, it's how we decide what to believe. It's not beliefs, it's epistemology.

Because most of us aren't qualified to sort good reforesting programs from bad ones. And even if we are, we're probably not also well-versed enough in cryptography to sort credible claims about encryption from wishful thinking. And even if we're capable of making that determination, we're not experts in food hygiene or structural engineering.

Daily life in the 21st century means resolving a thousand life-or-death technical questions every day. Our regulators – corrupted by literally out-of-control corporations – are no longer reliable sources of ground truth on these questions. The resulting epistemological chaos is a cancer that gnaws away at our resolve to do anything about it. It is a festering pool where nihilism outbreaks are incubated.

The liberal response to conspiratorialism is mockery. In her new book Doppelganger, Naomi Klein tells of how right-wing surveillance fearmongering about QR-code "vaccine passports" was dismissed with a glib, "Wait until they hear about cellphones!"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

But as Klein points out, it's not good that our cellphones invade our privacy in the way that right-wing conspiracists thought that vaccine passports might. The nihilism of liberalism – which insists that things can't be changed except through market "solutions" – leads us to despair.

By contrast, leftism – a muscular belief in democratic, publicly run planning and action – offers a tonic to nihilism. We don't have to let logging companies decide whether a forest can be cut, or what should be planted when it is. We can have nice things. The art of finding out what's true or prudent didn't die with the Reagan Revolution (or the discount Canadian version, the Mulroney Malaise). The truth is knowable. Doing stuff is possible. Things don't have to be on fire.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/16/murder-offsets/#pulped-and-papered

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twstedstoryshop · 3 months

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FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him.

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

#scrawlingquill #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt x reader #floyd leech x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland y/n #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twsited wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst reader insert #twisted wonderland reader insert #long post #long reads

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mintyjinx · 21 days

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Another Wall Mounted Landline Telephone (+ Fire Sprinkler box)

Okay, in all seriousness; the “Fire Prevention System Utility Panel” / the sprinkler box is a real eyesore. Because EA didn't consider the fact that people have aesthetic standards and due to how revolting the fire box looks; people go out of their way to HIDE it in their builds!

That’s why I made this item which looks more like a telephone and is inspired by The earlier Sims’ games’ burglar alarms and real life security systems.

I also made a second decorative version that functions as a very dim light source. You can have both files in-game at the same time

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This download has 2 files: 📞 File number 1: Utility System/Fire Sprinkler box Functions as an alternative to the in-game fire sprinkler box. This is not a default replacement.

Picture provided at the end of the post for size comparison as well. The new alarm is a bit smaller and less of an eyesore. 😅 📞 File number 2: Wall-Lamp This is only decorative. Produces a dim light.

You CAN have both files-in game at the same time.

Both come with Custom Catalog Thumbnails for further clarity

7 swatches (all swatches are different variations of black, white and gray)

Both files are Compatible with each other (meaning: you can have both files in game at the same time)

Both files are base game compatible

Comes with 3 slots to place small items on top of the telephone

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Download Links ⤵️ ✦ Ko-fi (Free) ✦ Patreon (Free) ✦

Follow me on Patreon and/or Ko-fi for free if you want access to new CC before I post them on tumblr!

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Background/Personal Notes: What inspired this object is The Sims 2 in general with its security system against burglars and its old-school telephones (Gotta appreciate the nostalgia!) BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY: the main reason i created this telephone as an alternative is THE GOD AWFUL FIRE SPRINKILER BOX! IT’S SO HIDEOUS! So I started off making this purely as a second option for the Sprinkelr box but soon decided to also make a lamp. LIKE, I TOOK PERSONAL OFFENSE TO HOW UGLY THE SPRIMKLER IS. Also, i currently can't spell the word sprinklier because I’m pissed off and NO i won't fix my spelling because i’m javing a moment. 😅

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★ T.O.U. ★ Questions? Ask here! ★ Ko-fi ★ Patreon ★

#sims 4 custom content #Sims 4 CC #ts4 custom content #ts4cc #s4mm #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 maxis match cc #ts4 maxis match #Simblr #ts4 download #CCfinds #cc finds #sims 4 cc finds #s4cc #mintyjinx #sims 4 Retro #sims 4 furniture #ts4 furniture #sims 4 electronics

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reachartwork · 7 months

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how to write fight scenes

many people have told me that Chum has good fight scenes. a small subset of those people have asked me on advice for how to write fight scenes. i am busy procrastinating, so i have distilled my general ethos on fight scenes into four important points. followed by a homework assignment.

Fight scenes take place on two axii - the physical and the intellectual. For the most interesting fight scenes, neither character should have a full inventory of the other's abilities, equipment, fighting style, etc. This gives you an opportunity to pull out surprises, but, more importantly, turns each fight into a jockeying of minds, as all characters involved have to puzzle out what's going on in real time. This is especially pertinent for settings with power systems. It feels more earned if the characters are trying to deduce the limitations and reach of the opponent's power rather than the opponent simply explaining it to them (like in Bleach. Don't do that). 1a. Have characters be incorrect in their assumptions sometimes, leading to them making mistakes that require them to correct their internal models of an opponent under extreme pressure. 1b. If you really have to have a character explain their powers to someone there should be a damn good reason for it. The best reason is "they are lying". The second best reason is "their power requires it for some reason".

Make sure your blows actually have weight. When characters are wailing at each other for paragraphs and paragraphs and nothing happens, it feels like watching rock 'em sock 'em robots. They beat each other up, and then the fight ends with a decisive blow. Not interesting! Each character has goals that will influence what their victory condition is, and each character has a physical body that takes damage over the course of a fight. If someone is punched in the gut and coughs up blood, that's an injury! It should have an impact on them not just for the fight but long term. Fights that go longer than "fist meets head, head meets floor" typically have a 'break-down' - each character getting sloppier and weaker as they bruise, batter, and break their opponent, until victory is achieved with the last person standing. this keeps things tense and interesting.

I like to actually plan out my fight scenes beat for beat and blow for blow, including a: the thought process of each character leading to that attempted action, b: what they are trying to do, and c: how it succeeds or fails. In fights with more than two people, I like to use graph paper (or an Excel spreadsheet with the rows turned into squares) to keep track of positions and facings over time.

Don't be afraid to give your characters limitations, because that means they can be discovered by the other character and preyed upon, which produces interesting ebbs and flows in the fight. A gunslinger is considerably less useful in a melee with their gun disarmed. A swordsman might not know how to box if their sword is destroyed. If they have powers, consider what they have to do to make them activate, if it exhausts them to use, how they can be turned off, if at all. Consider the practical applications. Example: In Chum, there are many individuals with pyrokinetic superpowers, and none of them have "think something on fire" superpowers. Small-time filler villain Aaron McKinley can ignite anything he's looking at, and suddenly the fight scenes begin constructing themselves, as Aaron's eyes and the direction of his gaze become an incredibly relevant factor.

if you have reached this far in this essay I am giving you homework. Go watch the hallway fight in Oldboy and then novelize it. Then, watch it again every week for the rest of your life, and you will become good at writing fight scenes.

as with all pieces of advice these are not hard and fast rules (except watching the oldboy hallway fight repeatedly) but general guidelines to be considered and then broken when it would produce an interesting outcome to do so.

okay have a good day. and go read chum.

#writing #creative writing #writing tip #writing prompt #pro tip!#long post

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darksilvania · 7 months

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Kroelian APPLIN Ghost/Dragon The Pumpkin Pokemon Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Heatproof (HA) Dex: "It makes its home inside a pumpkin, looking for the biggest and toughest. They wait until pumpkins are at their biggest,, so they are more often seen during the fall. Using their own acid, they darken certain areas of the pumpking from within, creating patterns that resemble scary faces to intimidate any possible predator.” Moveset: -Astonish -Bullet Seed -Rollout -Trick-or-Treat Kroelian FLAPPLE Ghost/Dragon The Jack-O-Lantern Pokemon Evolves from Kroelian APPLIN when given a CARVED PUMPKIN Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Flash Fire (HA) Dex: "It uses a carved pumpkin as its wings, it can close them to intimidated is opponent on its lantern form. It can created fire by using the pumpkins juices as fuel, this flames burn with a sweet smell" Moveset: -Pumpkin Smash Ghost type / pwr 80 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The users flies above the opponent and drops over it in its lantern form while emiting a creepy laugh-like screech. This may cause burns" -Breaking Swipe -Flame Charge -Trick-or-Treat Kroelian APPLETUN Ghost/Dragon The Pumkin Pie Pokemon Evolves from Kroelian APPLIN when given PUMPKIN SPICE Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Well Baked Body (HA) Dex: "It evolves after consuming some special aromatic spices, this gives its body a strong aroma. Its body produces fluffly cream-like ectoplasm that pours out from its back. This gobs of cream attract small spirits that can often be heard soflty wailing or manifest by making faces appear on the cream. " Moveset: -Whipped Scream Ghost type / pwr 80 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The spirits inside the cream on its back produce a terrible wail that hurts anyone who hears it. Might cause the opponent to flinch" -Dragon Breath -Spicy Extract -Trick-or-Treat Kroelian DIPPLIN Ghost/Poison The Caramelized Pumpkin Pokemon Evolves from Kroelian APPLIN when given CARAMEL Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Gooey (HA) Dex: "Its gourd is covered in a sticky caramel-like goo with a sickening sweet smell, it attracts bugs and small pokemon that when they touch it become stuck and unable to scape. The two snakes inside the gourd take turns to sleep, so no matter when, there is always a pair of eyes watching.” Moveset: -Fudge Sluge Poison type / pwr 80 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The user shots a wave of sticky caramel-like sludge all over the field. Opponents speed and evasivness are lowered -Poison Tail -Poison Fang -Trick-or-Treat Gygantamax Kroealian FLAPPLE/APPLETUN Ghost/Dragon Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Well baked body / Flash Fire(HA) Dex: "It attract lost souls inside is giant lantern where they are used as fuel for the ragin fire within. A second head has come out of its mouth, it is said to be a spirit from beyond, coming through a portal inside of its belly.” Moveset: -G-Max Pumpgatory Ghost type / pwr 130 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The user releases a wave of burning souls from its lantern. This move burns the opponents.” -G-Max Pumpscream Ghost type / pwr 130 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The user screams with the voices of a 1000 ghosts. This move paralyses opponents.”

I know we are already way past Halloween but I really wanted to finally finish this ones, made them originally over 2 years ago, but they are finally done Since I made the originals so long ago, DIPPLIN wasn't a thing yet, so I took this chance to make a regional version of them too, if they end up getting an evolution in the next DLC I will make a version of that too

APPLIN and FLAPPLE are based mainly on Jack-o-Lanterns

APPLETUN is based on Pumpkin Pie

DIPPLIN is based on Caramelized Pumpkin

The whole line, but specially Gigantamax FLAPPLE/APPLETUN are based on the Sandworms from the Beetlejuice movie

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p4p1l0nn · 3 months

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triple lee; naughtier the better.

── part one. two. three. mlist. wc: 9.1k

pairing: plug!haechan x plug!mark x stoner!reader x stoner!jeno

content warning: 18+ unprotected sex, humping, thigh riding, masturbation, explicit smut, etc, mdni.

a/n: introducing the first part of the triple lee series! starting off slow, but trust me, it gets better. happy reading ♡

like any other friday night, the air in the dimly lit room was thick with anticipation and the pungent smell of marijuana. you stood amidst a throng of people, their laughter mingling with the pulsating beat of the music.

neon lights danced across the walls, casting ever changing shadows that seemed to mirror the shifting moods of the partygoers.

your senses were alive with the sensory overload of the party — the taste of the cheap beer on their lips, the rhythmic vibrations coursing through their body, the kaleidoscope of colors swirling before their eyes — a flashback revealed how it all began.

earlier that day, you had been lounging on your couch, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when your phone buzzed with a text message from haechan.

“party at my place tonight. you better be there or else,” the message read, accompanied by a string of emoji depicting various threats, including a clown face and a pile of poo.

rolling your eyes, you fired back a response. “thanks, but i think i'll pass tonight.”

haechan's reply came swiftly, filled with exaggerated indignation. “absolutely not. you're coming, and that's final. besides, we haven't seen you in ages. it'll be fun, i promise!”

just as you were about to protest further, another message from haechan popped up on your phone. “oh, and by the way, mark’s gonna be there too, with his new stash, sure you don't want to come?” he added with a winking emoji, knowing full well that you had a soft spot for quality cannabis.

grumbling to yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at the prospect of trying out some new strains. with a resigned sigh, you typed out a reluctant response. "fine, fine. i'll be there. but you owe me big time for this."

knowing full well that haechan's version of "fun" often involved copious amounts of alcohol and questionable decision-making.

and here you are, finding yourself swept up in the chaos of the party, surrounded by friends and strangers alike. you can't help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all. if only haechan hadn't resorted to such drastic measures to ensure your attendance. but then again, where's the fun in a quiet night at home?

cursing under your breath, "that shithead," you're suddenly interrupted when someone taps on the right side of your shoulder, earning your attention. turning to see who it is, you're met with the mischievous grin of your friend, mark, who's known as one of the infamous plugs in town. “well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” he teases, a playful twinkle in his eye.

you roll your eyes at his comment, but can't help but smile at his familiar antics. "yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you retort, playfully nudging him with your elbow. "what's up, mark? selling your goods at the party now?" you ask with a smirk, knowing full well his reputation as the go-to guy for quality cannabis.

mark chuckles, reaching into his pocket to produce a small pouch filled with an assortment of colorful buds. "you know it," he replies with a wink, "got something special for you tonight. it's a new hybrid strain called 'purple haze dream.' trust me, you're gonna love it." intrigued, you lean in closer to get a whiff of the aroma, already feeling a sense of anticipation building within you.

"purple haze dream," mark begins, his voice taking on a more serious tone as he delves into the details. "it's a hybrid strain, a cross between purple haze and dream queen. the aroma is something else - hints of sweet berries and citrus with a subtle earthy undertone. when you take that first hit, you'll notice how smooth it is, no harshness at all."

you nod, listening intently as mark continues. "as for the effects, it's a balanced hybrid, so you'll get the best of both worlds. the purple haze brings a euphoric, uplifting high that'll have you feeling creative and energized, while the dream queen adds a calming, relaxing touch that'll melt away any stress or tension."

you can practically taste the flavors and feel the effects just from mark's description alone. "sounds amazing," you reply, a hint of excitement creeping into your voice. "can't wait to try it out."

mark grins, clearly pleased with your enthusiasm. "you're gonna love it, dude, trust me. just let me know if you need anything else."

"thanks, mark. really appreciate it," you say, genuinely grateful for his assistance. "i've been meaning to catch up with you anyway. it's been a while since i've restocked."

mark nods, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "yeah, it has been months, hasn't it?" he replies, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "you used to be one of my most loyal customers. what happened?"

you pause, taken aback by the question. "oh, you know, life gets busy," you respond with a shrug, trying to play it off casually. "i've just been trying to cut back a bit, you know?"

but the truth is, it's not just about cutting back on cannabis consumption. it's about the struggle to make ends meet after your three roommates moved out to live with their partners.

living alone for the first time in years, you're faced with the daunting task of shouldering the rent and bills all on your own. gone are the days when splitting expenses with your roommates made everything easy. now, every dollar counts, and you find yourself scrimping and saving wherever you can. you even took up odd jobs like dog-walking and freelance writing to make ends meet, but it's still not enough.

you shake off the weight of your worries as mark's next words draw you back to the present. "cutting back, huh? or maybe you've found a new plug?" he teases, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

you can't help but laugh at his suggestion. "oh, please," you retort, shaking your head in amusement. "as if anyone could ever replace you, mark."

mark chuckles, seemingly satisfied with your response. "that's what i like to hear," he replies, his tone lightening once more. "but hey, no hard feelings. just know that i've always got the good stuff whenever you need it."

you nod, a faint grin playing on your lips. "sounds good. i'll keep that in mind. might have to restock sooner than i thought." you pauses, considering your next words carefully. "by the way, if you ever come across any new strains or anything interesting, let me know. always up for trying something different."

mark lets out a hearty laugh, his grin widening. "always on the lookout for something special for my girl," he says with a playful wink.

"smoke break?" mark suggests with a nod towards the balcony, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you chuckle to yourself, muttering, "man will always be man," before nodding in agreement. "sounds good," you reply, feeling a sudden urge to break away from the crowd and enjoy a moment of solitude.

as you make your way to the balcony, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. the chaos of the party fades into the background as you step outside into the cool night air, the sounds of laughter and music muffled by the distance. leaning against the railing, you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.

reaching into your pocket, you retrieve the pouch of "purple haze dream" that mark gave you earlier. with trembling fingers, you carefully roll a joint, savoring the ritualistic process as you grind the buds and wrap them in paper.

it's been too long since you've indulged in such a simple pleasure, and you find yourself growing increasingly excited at the prospect of experiencing the effects of the strain firsthand.

chugging down the last of your drink, you flick your cigarette butt off the balcony and light up the joint, taking a long, slow drag. the smoke fills your lungs, sending a wave of relaxation coursing through your body. closing your eyes, you let out a contented sigh, feeling the tension melt away with each exhale.

the flavors dance across your palate, exactly as mark had described earlier - each puff of the joint a symphony of sensations. the sweet berries and citrus notes burst forth, tantalizing your taste buds with their vibrant intensity, while the subtle earthy undertone adds a depth and richness that lingers on your tongue. it's a truly exquisite blend, unlike anything you've ever tasted before, and you find yourself marveling at the complexity of flavors with each inhale.

as the smoke swirls around you, you feel yourself being transported to another world, a realm of pure bliss and euphoria. your senses are heightened, every sound, every color, every sensation amplified to almost overwhelming levels. it's as if you're floating on a cloud, weightless and free, with nothing but the warm embrace of the night air to anchor you to reality.

but even as you revel in the intoxicating effects of the cannabis, a part of you wonders if it's just the smoke itself that's making you feel so high, or if it's the combination of the drinks you've been consuming for hours now. either way, you couldn't care less. in this moment, lost in the haze of smoke, you feel alive in a way you haven't in ages.

with a contented sigh, you take another drag from the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs and wash over you in waves of pure euphoria.

"well, that was hot," mark remarks from beside you, his voice cutting through the silence of the night.

you open your eyes to see mark smirking at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. chuckling, you pass the joint to him. "you wish," you retort playfully, enjoying the easy banter between you.

mark takes a drag from the joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air. "hey, a guy can dream, can't he?" he replies with a grin.

you laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "dream on, mark," you tease.

before mark can reply, his phone suddenly rings, and he pauses mid-sentence, locking eyes with you as he reaches into his pocket to answer the call.

"yo, what's good?" mark says into the phone, his tone shifting to a more business-like demeanor. as he listens to the voice on the other end, his expression grows more serious, his brows furrowing in concentration.

studying him intently, you realize just now how good looking mark is. his chiseled jawline, piercing eyes, and confident demeanor make him stand out in any crowd. you understand why he's the infamous plug in town - with a face like that, a body like that, it's no wonder he's so well known and respected.

or maybe it's the effect of the smoke or the drink or whatever it was. trying to rationalize the sudden intensity of your attraction towards mark. but damn, he's breathtakingly beautiful and hot. sexy, if you may add.

as your thoughts wander, you can't help but imagine what it would be like to be with him intimately. you picture his strong arms wrapped around you, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. the mere thought sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire deep within you.

you wonder how it would feel to be pressed against him, skin against skin, feeling the heat of his body mingling with yours. you imagine his hands exploring every inch of your body, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you with each touch.

and then, your mind drifts to more dangerous thoughts - how skilled he must be in bed, how he knows just the right buttons to push to drive you wild with desire. you can almost hear his voice, husky with passion, as he whispers promises of pleasure and ecstasy.

shaking your head to clear away the daring images, you take another drag from the joint, hoping to banish the fantasies that threaten to consume you. but deep down, you know that the allure of mark's undeniable charm and charisma will linger long after the smoke dissipates, leaving you craving more of his intoxicating presence.

"yeah, i’m a bit strapped for your regular at the moment,” mark admitted, his tone casual. “but hey, i can hook you up with someone else– you really need it, huh?” he added, chuckling lightly. “alright, meet me at the usual in fifteen.”

turning his attention back to you, mark offers an apologetic smile. "sorry about that," he says, his tone sincere. “got a customer who’s eager to meet up. can’t leave them hanging, you know how it is,” he glanced at his phone, typing out a quick message to confirm the meet up. “would you like to come along? figured it might be a nice change of scenery.”

you nod in agreement, feeling grateful for the opportunity to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the party. "yeah, that sounds like a plan," you reply, mustering up a smile of your own. "i could use some fresh air."

the drive wasn't long, taking about fifteen to twenty minutes to reach the destination. you find yourselves in a quiet neighborhood, the streets dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp. the houses are close together, with narrow alleys snaking between them. it's the kind of place where you can imagine secrets lurking in every shadow.

as he pull up to the curb, you notice a figure standing on the sidewalk, dressed in a hoodie and a cap pulled low over their face. despite the dim light, you can see mark's face light up with recognition as he eagerly greets the man, extending his arms for a bro hug.

it's fascinating to see another side of mark, one that exists outside of the party scene and the role of the infamous plug in town.

just as mark points in your direction, signaling for his friend to see you, your phone buzzes with a notification. pulling it out of your pocket, you see a drunken text from haechan, filled with typos and nonsensical ramblings.

"heyy y/n! m missing u at the partyy :( wen r u coming back? we need more of ur dance moves lololol," the message reads, accompanied by a string of laughing emojis.

rolling your eyes at haechan's antics, you quickly type out a reply before slipping your phone back into your pocket.

just as you're about to look back to where mark was, both he and the mysterious figure have vanished into the shadows. you're about to shrug it off when suddenly, the door to the driver's seat bursts open, startling you.

you let out a yelp of surprise, instinctively jerking away from the sudden intrusion. heart racing, you turn to see mark slipping into the seat beside you, a mischievous grin on his face.

"mark, what the hell?" you exclaim.

mark chuckles, his laughter filling the car. "should've seen the look on your face," he says, wiping away a tear of laughter from his eye. "priceless."

you can't help but join in his laughter, feeling a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

as you catch your breath, mark reaches over and pats you on the shoulder reassuringly. "sorry about that, dude," he says, his tone genuine. "just couldn't resist messing with you a little."

you shake your head, unable to suppress a smile. "yeah, yeah, very funny," you reply, playfully rolling your eyes at him. "just don't make a habit of it, okay?"

mark chuckles at your response, the mischievous glint still dancing in his eyes. "no promises," he teases, winking at you before pulling away from the curb.

the feeling of fuzziness settling over you, a lingering effect of the smoke and drinks from earlier. despite the cool night air streaming through the open window, you can't seem to shake the foggy sensation clouding your thoughts.

"actually, mark, do you mind if we skip the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "i'm feeling a bit fuzzy, and i think i just want to head back home."

mark nods understandingly, his expression softening with concern. "of course, i got you, dude," he replies, his tone gentle.

as you finally pull up to your apartment building, you thank mark for his kindness before stepping out into the cool night air. however, just as you're about to close the door, a sudden thought strikes you.

"hey, mark," you call out, leaning back into the car. "before i forget, how much did you say the goods were?"

mark grins, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small notebook. "ah, right," he replies, flipping through the pages. "for you, i can do a special deal. how about fifty for an eighth?"

you nod, impressed by the offer. "that sounds pretty reasonable," you reply, "and how soon could you have it ready for me?"

"i can have it ready for you by tomorrow afternoon," he assures you, "freshly harvested and ready to go."

you smile, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of stocking up on such a high-quality strain. "sounds perfect," you say, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your wallet. "consider it a done deal."

the next day starts off hectic as you wake up to find a letter slipped under your door. your heart sinks as you read the words written on the paper. it's a notice from the landlord, reminding you of your pending rent and warning of potential consequences if it's not paid soon.

feeling a wave of stress wash over you, you sit down on the edge of your bed, clutching the letter in your hands. how could you have let things get this bad? with your mind racing with worries about eviction and financial struggles, you realize that you need to find a solution - and fast.

just as you're about to spiral further into despair, your phone rings, interrupting your thoughts. it's haechan, calling you just in time, as if he were a heaven-sent messenger.

"babe," haechan exclaims cheerfully. "listen, i was just thinking, do you happen to have enough room for three grown men?"

you can't help but laugh at the coincidence of his question. "actually, haechan, funny you should ask," you reply, your voice tinged with relief. "i could use some roommates right about now. things have been a bit tight lately."

haechan's excitement is palpable through the phone. "bingo! i've got the perfect roommates in mind," he says eagerly. "i'll send them over to check out the place later today if that's alright with you."

you nod, feeling grateful for haechan's timely intervention. "sounds good to me," you say, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "thanks, bud. i owe you one."

"yeah, you do, because i'm part of that three grown men," haechan replies, his voice full of mischief. "see you later!"

time ticks by quickly as you go about your day, running errands and tidying up your apartment in anticipation of your new roommates' arrival. you're lost in a whirlwind of activity, barely noticing the hours slipping away until you're jolted out of your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

with a quick glance at the clock, you realize that it's already later than you expected. hastily wiping your hands on a dish towel, you rush to answer the door.

as you swing the door open, you're taken aback by the sight of the first person standing on your doorstep. he gives off a slightly cold aura, his sharp features accentuated by the dim light filtering through the doorway. his veiny arms are visible under the sleeves of his shirt, adding to the intimidating presence he exudes.

"uh, hi there," you greet cautiously, unsure of what to make of this unexpected visitor.

the man's lips curl into a faint smile, "hey," he replies in a low, husky voice. "i'm here about the room."

you nod, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. "right, come on in," you say, stepping aside to let him enter.

as he steps into the apartment, you can't help but study him discreetly, taking note of his piercing gaze and the way he carries himself with a certain confidence. there's something mysterious about him, something that makes you curious yet wary at the same time.

"make yourself at home," you offer, gesturing towards the living room. "i'll go get you something to drink."

as you retreat to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, your mind is still occupied with thoughts of the man who now occupies your living room. what caught your attention the most was his stance - it looked oddly familiar, yet you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

you pause in the kitchen, leaning against the countertop as you try to recall where you might have seen someone with such a commanding presence before. was it at a party? a chance encounter on the street? you're not sure, but there's something about him that tugs at the edges of your memory, begging to be remembered.

returning to the living room with a glass of water in hand, you cast a curious glance at the man who now sits on the couch, his cap still covering half of his face. you can't help but feel a sense of frustration at not being able to see his features clearly - it's like trying to solve a puzzle with half of the pieces missing.

"here you go," you say, offering him the glass of water with a polite smile. "sorry, i don't have any coffee made yet."

he accepts the water with a nod of thanks, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. there's something intense about his stare, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"thanks," he replies, his voice low and gravelly. "no worries about the coffee."

as you watch him take a sip of water, you can't shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. internally, you curse haechan for not providing more details about the man who were supposed to rent the room. if only he had been more specific, you might have been better prepared for the strange encounter unfolding before you.

feeling the awkward tension thickening the air, you try to break the silence with some small talk, hoping to ease the discomfort of the situation. but before you can utter another word, he beats you to it with a blunt question.

"how much is the rent?" he asks, his tone plain and rude.

taken aback by his abruptness, you falter for a moment before composing yourself. "uh, well, it's $300 a month for each room," you reply, trying to keep your tone even despite the growing sense of irritation.

the man nods, as if considering the information, before setting the glass of water down on the coffee table with a thud. "alright then," he says curtly, his gaze flickering towards the door. "i'll take it."

you can't help but feel a surge of annoyance at his dismissive attitude, but you suppress it as best as you can. after all, you need the rent money, and beggars can't be choosers.

"great," you say, forcing a smile. "i'll get you the paperwork to sign."

as you retreat to your room to fetch the rental agreement, another doorbell rings, jolting you out of your thoughts. with a sigh, you swerve to the door, but before you can reach it, again, the man beats you to it, opening the door as if he owns the place. technically, he does now, but his sudden display of ownership still catches you off guard.

to your surprise, he seems positively excited as he greets the guest at the door, his demeanor a stark contrast to his earlier dismissive attitude. confused by his sudden change in behavior, you hurry over to the door to see who it is.

as you approach, you're greeted by the sight of mark standing in the doorway, a wide grin on his face. "yo, dude! you didn't tell me our roommate is gonna be jeno? this is sick!" he exclaims, his excitement palpable.

confused by his words, you furrow your brow and ask, "our?"

mark's grin widens as he steps further into the apartment. "yeah, our," he replies, clapping you on the shoulder. "i'm also renting the room. i'll explain later, but for now, let's just say it's gonna be lit."

you blink in surprise, processing the sudden revelation. so mark was also going to be your roommate. you can't help but wonder what other surprises the day has in store for you.

"have you two already introduced yourselves?" mark asks, glancing between you and the jeno guy who now stands in the living room.

still feeling a bit stunned by the revelation of mark's own rental arrangement, you shake your head slightly, silently admitting that you haven't exchanged names yet.

mark clears his throat, breaking the silence. "alright, enough with the awkwardness," he says with a grin. "y/n, meet jeno. jeno, meet y/n. you two are gonna be roommates from now on."

you exchange brief nods of acknowledgment, the tension in the air dissipating as mark's straightforward introduction breaks the ice. with the formalities out of the way, you can't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you'll be sharing your living space with familiar faces.

mark then adds with a chuckle, "oh, and by the way, y/n, jeno here is the guy you and i met last night."

the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and everything suddenly falls into place. jeno, the mysterious man from last night, the one who needed a restock — now he stands before you, not as a stranger, but as your new roommate.

you can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, "well, isn't this a small world," you remark, a wry smile playing on your lips.

just as you and jeno share a glance at each other, the sound of raucous laughter and loud footsteps echoes through the hallway. before you can even process what's happening, the door bursts open, and in stumbles haechan, looking more disheveled than you've ever seen him.

"yooo, what's up, party people!" haechan shouts, his words slurring together as he teeters on the edge of drunkenness. "hope i'm not too late for the shindig!"

you can't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "haechan, it's barely noon. are you sure it's time for you to be drunk?" you quip.

haechan stumbles forward, his balance faltering, and you quickly reach out to steady him before he falls flat on his face. "whoa there," you say, managing to catch him just in time. "looks like you've had one too many already."

haechan grins sheepishly, his cheeks flushed with alcohol. "eh, you know me," he says with a careless shrug. "just trying to make the most of the day, you know?"

you shake your head, flicking haechan's forehead lightly before giving him a warning glance. "well, just try not to break anything," you reply, guiding him over to the couch where he flops down with a contented sigh.

"looks like we've got ourselves some deals to discuss," you say to the three men, your tone playful but firm. "i'll bring in the paper for you to sign and give the landlord a call to make it official."

you can't help but shake your head at the chaos that's sure to ensue with three men living under one roof. the thought of navigating their varying personalities, habits, and quirks fills you with excitement. but deep down, you know that life with mark, jeno, and haechan by your side will never be boring.

with jeno's mysterious aura, mark's laid-back charm, and haechan's unpredictable antics, you can already envision the countless adventures and misadventures that await you in your new living arrangement. from impromptu parties to late-night conversations and everything in between, it's bound to be a wild ride.

but amidst the chaos, there's a silver lining — having two seasoned plugs under one roof means that restocking your supply will be easier than ever. gone are the days of waiting anxiously for your dealer to respond or trekking across town to meet them in some shady alley. now, with mark, jeno, and haechan just a few steps away, you can refill your stash with ease, knowing that your cravings will always be satisfied.

months pass, and life in the apartment with the triple lee becomes a routine. but as familiarity settles in, so does an undeniable tension that simmers beneath the surface.

whenever you light up a joint, it seems like there's always at least one of them eager to join you. the air becomes thick with smoke, swirling around you in lazy tendrils as you pass the joint between your lips. and as you inhale deeply, you can't help but notice the way their eyes linger on you, their gazes burning with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

at first, you brush off the lingering stares as mere curiosity, but as time goes on, you begin to feel something more. it starts with fleeting glances and subtle touches — a hand brushing against yours as you pass the joint, a lingering gaze that lingers a little too long. the tension between you and your roommates — mark, jeno, and haechan — reaches a fever pitch.

and before you know it, you find yourself drawn to them in ways you never imagined possible. that leave you breathless.

mark, with his devilish grin, fuels your fantasies with thoughts of rough, passionate encounters. you imagine him pinning you against the wall, his hands roaming your body as he whispers dirty promises in your ear. with each passing day, the desire to feel his touch grows stronger, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

jeno, with his quiet intensity and smoldering gaze, awakens a primal hunger deep within you. you picture him taking control, his touch gentle yet commanding as he explores every inch of your body with a reverence that leaves you trembling with need. in your fantasies, he's the epitome of restraint, unleashing a torrent of pent-up desire that leaves you begging for more.

and then there's haechan, with his playful charm and infectious laughter, who ignites a wild, untamed passion within you. you envision him pushing you to your limits, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake as he leads you on a journey of ecstasy and abandon. with him, it's all about letting go of inhibitions and surrendering to the raw, primal pleasure that courses through your veins.

how could you resist envisioning them naked when you're so used to seeing them walking around half naked, their toned bodies on display for all to see? it's a constant temptation, one that grows stronger with each passing day.

one evening, as you make your way to the bathroom, you're startled to find mark already inside, his shirt discarded on the floor as he stands before the mirror, shirtless and unapologetically confident. "oh, sorry," he says, flashing you a charming grin as he moves to step aside.

but instead of retreating, you find yourself frozen in place, unable to tear your gaze away from his chiseled physique. the sight of him, all lean muscle and taut skin, sends a jolt of desire coursing through you.

with a playful smirk, mark steps closer, his gaze smoldering. "you sure you're okay, love?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "you seem a little . . . distracted."

his touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a primal hunger within you that demands to be satisfied. without thinking, you lean into his touch, your body craving the warmth of his skin against yours.

"i . . . i'm fine," you stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to maintain control. but deep down, you know that you're anything but fine. in fact, you're on the verge of losing yourself completely to the overwhelming desire that consumes you.

mark's teasing grin only widens, his eyes darkening with desire as he moves closer, closing the distance between you until you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

"are you sure about that?" he murmurs, as he trails his fingers lightly along the curve of your jaw, sending electric sparks dancing across your skin. "because you seem awfully tense, y/n. maybe i can help you relax."

his words send a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your breath catching in your throat as you feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. with each movement, he inches closer, his proximity setting your senses ablaze with longing.

you can feel the heat of his body pressing against yours. and as his lips hover just inches from yours, you find yourself powerless to resist the magnetic pull of temptation.

"mark . . ." you whispered, your voice barely a breathless sigh as you lean in closer, your lips dangerously close to his.

just when you think he's about to close the distance between you, brings his free hand to your back while his lips still hover close to fetch the hairdryer.

"got it," mark says with a mischievous smile, his eyes dancing with amusement as he breaks the spell, stepping away from you. "you can have the bathroom, love. i'm done anyways."

he winks at you before disappearing into his room, leaving you cursing him under your breath as you're left standing there, your senses reeling from the dizzying whirlwind of desire that he's left in his wake, his teasing leaving you feeling flushed and unexpectedly horny.

"fuck you, mark lee,"

all you can do is help yourself, your mind consumed with thoughts of them as you seek relief through self-pleasure.

despite your best efforts, the ache of desire persists, lingering in the depths of your being like an insatiable hunger that cannot be satisfied. even as your fingers work tirelessly to bring you to the brink of release, you find yourself yearning for something more, something deeper — a connection that transcends the physical act of pleasure.

but still, you press on, knowing that even if your touch alone isn't enough to fulfill your needs entirely, it's a temporary reprieve from the relentless onslaught of desire. and in this moment of desperation, you'll take whatever relief you can get, no matter how fleeting or inadequate it may seem. for now, it's enough to quell the raging fire of horniness that burns within you, if only for a fleeting moment.

shaken from your reverie, you blink rapidly, the harsh fluorescent lights of the grocery store aisle glaring down at you. reality comes crashing back in waves, and you realize with a start that you've been standing in the same spot for who knows how long, lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

embarrassment floods through you as you glance around, hoping that no one noticed your momentary lapse in awareness. hastily, you grab the item you came for and make your way to the checkout counter, eager to escape the prying eyes of the other shoppers.

as you wait in line, you can't shake the lingering feeling of arousal that still pulses beneath your skin, a reminder of the fantasies that had consumed your mind just moments before. with a shake of your head, you push the thoughts aside, determined to focus on the task at hand.

finally, you pay for your items and make your way out of the store, the warm afternoon air washing over you like a welcome reprieve. with each step, you feel the weight of the day slowly lifting from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.

as you head back home, you make a silent vow to keep your needs in check, knowing that indulging in them would only lead to more trouble than it's worth.

reaching into your bag, you fumble for your keys, the weight of the metal reassuring in your hand as you approach the door to your shared apartment. with a twist of the lock, you step inside, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of home.

until, the faint sound of a groan catches your attention, a low, throaty sound that sends a shiver down your spine. you freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you strain to identify the source of the noise.

your mind races with possibilities, each one more harder than the last. could it be one of your roommates, lost in the throes of passion with a lover? or perhaps it's just the creaking of the old floorboards, a trick of the imagination brought on by the late afternoon and the dim lighting.

but even as you entertain the possibility of your roommates enjoying their intimate session behind your back, a nagging doubt gnaws at the edges of your mind. after all, as far as you know, none of them have ever brought girls back to the apartment without letting you know beforehand.

could they be sneaking around behind your back? the thought stirs a mix of anger and hurt or maybe even . . . jealous?

although it's none of your business, a sudden surge of protectiveness washes over you, urging you to intervene. you're not sure why this sudden urge to meddle has taken hold of you. could it be jealousy, bubbling up from deep within? or perhaps it's just a sense of duty to your roommates, wanting to ensure everything is okay.

whatever the reason, you can't ignore the pull to investigate further.

following the sound, you made your way towards the living room, curiosity driving you forward. and as you stepped into the room, your eyes were met with a scene that both shocked and aroused you.

seated on the couch was a guy with pale skin, his toned body visible as his t-shirt lay on the floor. his sweatpants were pulled down, and he was stroking himself. he had his head tilted back, letting out small moans of pleasure.

as you blinked in disbelief, you realized it was lee jeno, your roommate, caught in this intimate moment. his movements were slow as he continued to stroke himself, his breath coming in shallow pants. veins stood out on his neck, pulsing with desire, while his flushed cheeks betrayed the intensity of his arousal.

the same guy who had been rude and distant, you couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions. memories flooded back of the time you bumped into him after his shower, his damp hair tousled and his skin glistening with droplets of water. you had been unable to tear your eyes away from his toned body, and he had caught you staring, teasing you in his straightforward manner, a smirk playing on his lips.

"like what you see, princess?" he had remarked, his tone laced with amusement as he arched an eyebrow at you. the teasing glint in his eyes had only fueled your embarrassment, leaving you flustered and at a loss for words.

another memory flooded your mind, sending a jolt of heat through your body. you remembered vividly how jeno had "accidentally" pressed his erection against your backside while you were cooking.

his excuse had been flimsy at best — something about trying to reach for a plate while you were in his way. but you knew better.

you felt it — his hardness pressing against you right where you craved to be filled the most. the only thing that stood between you and him was the thin barrier of fabric, but even that couldn't hide the unmistakable bulge.

instead of anger, you felt a surge of desire coursing through you, driving you to the brink of madness. it left you wondering just how big he actually was, considering the brief but intense contact you had felt.

and now, the opportunity is right in front of you, and you're not about to let it slip away again. but then again, you've never been particularly close with jeno, and the thought of making a move feels daunting.

yet, the neediness coursing through your veins outweighs any reservations you might have. your heart pounds erratically in your chest, and a sticky heat begins to pool between your legs.

jeno's gaze meets yours without a hint of shame, and a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he tilts his head back, letting out a low, guttural moan. "enjoying the show, princess?" he asks, his voice laced with a teasing edge as he continues to circle the flushed tip of his cock.

his voice drops to a husky whisper as he moans your name, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach.

realization hits you like a truck as you hear him moan your name. your name, uttered from his lips in a voice thick with desire, sends a surge of heat through your body, leaving you breathless and dizzy with need.

as you stand there, unable to feel your legs as they wobble beneath you, you realize just how fucking hot the scene is.

shakily, you call out jeno's name, your voice barely above a whisper as you're overcome with desire. in response, jeno moans your name again, the sound sending a shiver down your spine as he praises you, his words fueling the fire burning inside you. your mind becomes hazy as you stand there, torn between making a move or waiting for his instructions, unsure of what to do next.

"c'mere princess," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "be a good girl and help me out."

with a shaky breath, you step closer to jeno. his words send a jolt of electricity through you, and you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

as you stand before him, you let him guide your hand to his hardened cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it under your touch. you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you.

you kneel in front of him, you take a moment to admire his cock, thick and veiny, pulsing with need. with a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you wrap your hand around him, feeling him throb with anticipation.

you're not sure why you suddenly feel so bold. maybe it's because you've spent the whole week teasing yourself, unable to find satisfaction with just your fingers or your toy. and it doesn't help hearing haechan on the other side of the thin wall, making you even more desperate for release.

"you like watching me jerk off," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

"i did," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you lean in closer. with a slow, teasing motion, you begin to stroke him, relishing in the way he responds to your touch.

despite the pleasure your touch brings him, jeno is not known for his patience. he craves more, yearning for the feel of your lips, your skin against his.

with a swift motion, he stands up, pulling you to your feet and pushing you back onto the couch. as he hovers over you, his eyes lock onto yours, a mischievous glint dancing in them.

"you know, princess," he says, his voice low and teasing, "i'm not one to wait around. and right now, all i want is you."

your response is equally teasing as you whisper back, "then what are you waiting for?" the words seem to ignite a fire within him, making him even harder as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"should i kiss you?" he murmured, his lips hovering near yours, a mischievous grin playing on them. you nodded eagerly, craving his kiss after his teasing.

with a smirk, he leaned in, and your lips met, fitting together seamlessly, eliciting a soft whimper from you. the kiss quickly intensified, leaving you gasping for air.

he trailed kisses along your neck, diverting your attention as he positioned his leg between yours. pressing his firm thigh against your warmth, he felt the dampness through his pants. a soft groan escaped his lips as you instinctively moved your hips against him.

you started grinding against him without needing any prompting, the rush of pleasure making you moan softly. his lips kept moving on your neck, leaving small marks that would turn into bruises later.

your wetness soaked through jeno's sweats, making them cling to him, but he didn't mind as he pressed harder against you. he pulled his lips away from your skin to watch you ride his thigh desperately. your movements, the way your chest rose and fell with every moan, the way you tugged on your nipples through your shirt, made him moan in response.

"my naughty little princess," jeno growled, his eyes locked onto you as you moved against him. you whimpered, the friction between your wetness and his sweats driving you wild. pleasure surged through you, sending shivers down your spine and leaving your skin slick with sweat.

jeno bit his lip, watching you grind against his thigh with desperation. he was consumed by the desire to make you cum so hard you couldn't even think straight.

your distant, lust-filled gaze drove him wild. all he wanted was to push you over the edge, to hear you scream his name in ecstasy.

"i want you to cum all over my thigh, baby. be a good girl for me," he whispered.

you gripped onto the man above you, your nails digging into his arms. he winced but didn't pull away. as you started to slow down, overwhelmed by the intensity, he took control, gripping your hips tightly and urging you to keep going.

you screamed his name, throwing your head back as your body tightened. then, you were falling over the edge. your body shook with the intensity of your orgasm, leaving you unable to make a sound as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"come on, princess, let it out," jeno whispered, his voice deep and close to your ear. "fuck- that's it, good girl . . ."

as you started to calm down, your vision clearing, jeno's hands traced along your body, murmuring sweet words to ease you. he kissed you deeply, pulling you back from your daze. you gripped his hair, eliciting a moan from him.

you lay beneath jeno, spent and limp, while he smirked down at you, enjoying your disheveled look. despite his arousal evident, as hard as a rock, he focused on you with a commanding gaze.

"what's on your mind, princess?" he demanded, his voice firm.

"now," you stuttered, pulling your shirt off and revealing your bare breasts. "put that dick in this cunt."

"shit, just hearing that could've made me cum," jeno muttered, pushing his sweats down to his knees and kicking them off the couch. “been waiting for this for so long.”

he gripped your thighs firmly, parting them to reveal your still throbbing core. taking hold of his erection, he trailed the tip along your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. in that moment, you were struck by the sheer size of his cock; long, thick, and oozing with precum that made your mouth water.

but then, a sudden panic washed over you as you remembered the presence of your other two roommates. you whispered urgently to jeno, reminding him of the others.

jeno's reply came in a low voice. "fuck them, princess," he said, his eyes smoldering with intensity. "let them hear how good i make you feel."

he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, feeling how wet and ready you were for him. unable to resist, he pushes his way inside you. the sensation is intense, unlike anything you've ever felt before — a mix of pleasure and slight pain that has your eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

"fuck fuck fuck," he groaned as he went all the way in. you've never felt anyone so deep inside you before, and your thighs start shaking. "you're so tight," he moans.

he pulled back until only the tip was inside you, feeling your walls tightening around him. with a groan, he thrust back in firmly, causing the couch to creak and both of you to moan loudly. your nails might have been leaving red marks on his back, but it only seemed to drive him to go harder.

"i'm gonna cum, shit," he said, his voice sounding strained.

"already?" you teased, earning a glare and a hard thrust from him. "thanks to you, i've been on edge for hours," he growled, biting your shoulder lightly and chuckling at your whimper.

"didn't you already—"

"no," he growled, thrusting deep and holding still, keeping you filled and squirming around him. "i waited for you to come back from shopping to catch me."

"well, shit," you mumbled, moving your hips against him, a hand trying to find your clit. but jeno grabbed your wrist, stopping you, a wicked grin on his face.

"uh-uh" he said firmly, holding your arm above your head. "you're going to cum from my cock alone or not at all, princess."

you whimpered, your eyes pleading as he ground deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot. "please, just let me cum."

"such a good girl, begging like that," he murmured, his lips moist as he licked them, but he kept your arm pinned. he slowed his pace slightly, still thrusting hard but not as fast, prolonging the torture for both of you.

you could feel an orgasm building up inside you, the tension in your stomach almost unbearable. unlike before, you weren't sure if you could cum from just his cock alone. it was a new feeling, one that left you both anxious and excited, wondering if you could reach that peak solely from his touch.

usually, you had to take care of yourself during or after. but seeing how determined jeno was, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you. you trusted him to take you to heights you hadn't reached before, to give you the stars and beyond.

"don't worry, princess," jeno reassured, releasing your arm and gently cupping your breast. "i'll make sure you reach it."

with his promise, he increased his speed, hitting just the right spot that made you cry out in pleasure and arch your back. unexpectedly, he pushed down on your stomach, triggering an immediate orgasm that was unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

"fuck, princess, you're doing great," jeno praised, maintaining the pressure and speed. "i can feel myself deep inside you," his words were dirty, fueling your orgasm even more.

your eyes rolled back, spots dancing before them, and your head spun. you felt like you might pass out from the intensity, your orgasm overwhelming you as his thrusts continued unabated.

his voice echoed in your ears, but you couldn't make out the words; all you knew was the pleasure was overwhelming, and everything felt soaked.

you felt a cool cloth wiping away the mess, and when you opened your eyes, you saw a small smile on his face as he cleaned your thighs.

he's smiling, you thought. you can't help but think how beautiful it is. it's a rare sight, a genuine expression that illuminates his features with warmth and kindness. his crescent eyes sparkle with a softness that tugs at your heartstrings, and for a moment, you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.

you wish this moment could last forever, etching his smile into your memory as a reminder of the gentle side he rarely shows.

but reality soon sets in, reminding you of the undeniable barrier that exists between the two of you.

despite the fleeting intimacy you shared, you both know deep down that you're nothing more than that — a temporary escape, a means to fulfill each other's physical needs.

"let's take a quick nap," he said, lending you a hand as you struggled to sit up, feeling like your back had turned to jelly. "sucks to be them."

“who?” you ask, feeling a pang of unease creeping into your voice.

"nothing, just . . . " jeno replied with a casual shrug, avoiding your gaze as he busied himself with straightening the cushions.

you frowned, sensing there was more to his comment than he was letting on. "what do you mean by that?"

before you could dwell on it further, jeno's gaze softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "we should probably clean up," he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he glanced around the room, avoiding your eyes.

you chuckled weakly, feeling embarrassed. "yeah, wouldn't want to give them a show," you said, attempting to lighten the mood as you glanced at the closed door, wondering if anyone else was lurking around.

"hey, y/n . . ." jeno's voice was soft, almost a whisper, and you turned to him, waiting for him to speak. when he hesitated, you prompted him, "what is it, jeno?"

"i don't want you to think i’m taking advantage of you," jeno stated plainly. “trust me, that’s the last thing on my mind.”

true, it was quite unexpected for the two of you to fuck. you both hadn't really planned on it, but things just escalated quickly. maybe it was the adrenaline, the thrill of doing something risky, or maybe it was just the heat of the moment that led to it.

“it's okay, jeno,” you replied gently, sensing his hesitation. "we all have our needs, and sometimes, certain situations arise to fulfill them." pausing for a moment, you continued, "you were about to say something?"

"i mean," he started, his tone earnest, "i want us to . . . you know, do this again. and not just for sex, but . . . i want to get to know you better."

as you listened to jeno's unexpected confession, memories of your interactions with him flooded your mind. unlike mark and haechan, who were always easy to talk to and had been your friends for years, your relationship with jeno had always been distant.

you recalled the times when you crossed paths in the apartment, exchanging little more than nods or brief greetings. even when you smoked out on the balcony, jeno's presence was accompanied by an air of indifference.

he would join you, wordlessly asking for a lighter and rolling his own cigarette. sometimes he'd linger, but more often than not, he'd disappear without a word, leaving you alone.

around you, jeno remained aloof and reserved, rarely showing any warmth or interest in engaging with you beyond what was necessary. his demeanor was cool and distant, his words carefully measured, as if he was always keeping you at arm's length.

it was as if you were both skipping crucial steps in the process of getting to know each other, rushing into something that felt both exhilarating and unsettling.

now, amidst the aftermath, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of awkwardness creeping in.

with a soft sigh, you finally broke the tension. “i’ll see you around, jeno.”

stay tuned for more chapters coming soon!

— a.

#nct smut #nct imagines #nct fluff #stoner!nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct 127 #nct hard hours #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #mark smut #mark lee smut

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specshroom · 1 month

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A Mischievous Fairy

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

When a humble farmer decided to live on the outskirts of town right next to the forest he did not expect to make friends with a small temperamental creature from the forest.

It was a pretty good deal you had going on, you help his plants grow with fairy magic and he gives you a safe warm place to sleep and home cooked meals. Most days are spent with you doing your best to annoy the poor farmer as he tries to remind himself that you're the reason his produce sells for such high prices.

You fly around his head making little jingle noises and he tries to ignore you and go on with his work. You steal little things like spoons, screwdrivers, pencils and put them in places he can't reach like on top of the cabinets and shelves. When you get mad at him you grow weeds in his crops until he apologizes or gives you a gift to your liking. Despite this the farmer has grown to truly enjoy your company...for the most part.

His loneliness is getting to him and he's tried to have company over but it's kind of hard to explain to guests why there's a little, scantily clad fairy staring daggers at them the whole time. It definitely ruins the mood as he tries to convince them you won't bite (you will and you have).

One day the farmer comes home from town looking more excited than usual. You plop yourself on his head as he walks around his little cottage.

As he sorts through all the items he bought you get impatient and decide he's not paying enough attention to you. You fly right in front of his face and pose for him, showing off the new outfit you made out of flower petals in his garden.

"Not right now, Tiny."

The farmer rolls his eyes and gently shoos you away with his hand, focusing back onto his apparently very interesting haul from the market. The very rude gesture gets you all fired up and you're in his face again this time with your hands on your hips and an angry expression. The farmer sighs and gently cradles your tiny body in his hands.

"Look, I'm busy. Alright?"

He walks over to the windowsill and gently plops you down onto the little pincushion he set aside for you. You sit there with your arms crossed, glaring at him as he puts away his items.

While you're sulking you notice a little bottle of purple liquid poking out of the farmers front pocket. You quietly flutter over and sneakily inch the tiny thing out of his pocket.

"Hey!"

The farmer tries to stop you but you're much faster than him and fly up, out of his reach. The glass bottle is a little bigger than you're torso and when you inspect it the label says "Growth serum"

You let out quite a dramatic gasp and look down at the farmer, betrayal written all over your face.

"Now Tiny, don't jump to conclu-"

The farmer starts but is interrupted by a very angry fairy yelling things he doesn't understand right in his face. All he can hear is jingles but he's sure he's getting severely cussed at. He understands why, you helped this man grow his crops bigger and better than ever and now you think he wants to replace you for some stupid, probably overpriced serum?

You angrily throw the bottle to the ground and the farmer dives down to clumsily catch it before it smashes onto the floor.

As you feel tears fall down your hot cheeks, you flutter back to your windowsill and sit with your head between your knees.

"Hey, don't cry now."

The farmer sheepishly leans against the windowsill next to you.

"I promise, it's not for the plants. You already help me out so much with that and I appreciate it a lot. I don't need anything else."

You peak your head out from your arms and look at him skeptically.

He holds his hand out to you and you hesitantly flutter onto his palm, enjoying the warmth of his touch despite the cold wetness of your cheeks.

"Truth is, it's lonely for me out here... and I know you get lonely too."

You scoff at him. Obviously, the whole reason you were upset in the first place was because he was ignoring you.

"I uh... I got this for you. So we could....uh well only if you want to, I mean... I don't know."

You stare at him dumbfounded as he fumbles his words, you've never seen the farmer like this before.

You shoot up to hug his cheek, jingling in excitement. You give him tiny kisses and he laughs at the ticklish feeling. You float to the counter in front of him and bounce on your heels waiting for him.

"Alright, alright."

He chuckles at your stark change in mood and uncaps the tiny bottle of magic liquid. You brace yourself as he carefully lets one single drop fall onto your little head.

Nothing happens for a moment but before you could feel disappointed the world blurs and you're suddenly face to face with your farmer.

He stares down at where you sit on his counter, now perfectly human sized. Your cute dress didn't survive the quick transition but you don't seem to mind as you jump the poor farmer.

You grab his face and kiss him deeply. Finally feeling his lips on yours makes your wings flutter and your heart sing as you lock your legs around him to pull his body closer.

"Alright, slow down."

He says through kisses and huffed laughs as you kiss all over his face and neck.

"Now why don't you let me show you how much I appreciate you."

He mumbles in a sultry tone, bringing his hands down to grip your ass and grind your hips into him.

He laughs at the way your wings violently flutter and takes that as eager agreement.

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

#teeheeheehee #monster fucker #(?)#shit what do i tag this #fairy #fae #nsft fantasy #fantasy prompts #monster lover #monster x human #fairy x human #fae x human

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shaisuki · 6 days

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𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings major timeskip flashbacks, talks about overdosing, harassment.

notes i promise next chapter would be the start.

taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis a old memory surfaces

the rolling of the wheel of the lighter ignited a small flame then it dies down. there's a few clicking before it produces a fire and suguru watched in a bored manner. following the lighter's fire touched the tip of the cigarette and then followed by a smoke. the brunnete inhales before exhaling the smoke. humming as she glances at his friends. impatient from the looks of it.

years of being friends with these two and one could say she's used to the duo's shenanigans and yet, it was still fucking unbelievable how these two creates trouble and her taking the brunt of it. the memory of you unmoving while being connected to machines still replays in her mind.

“god forbid you two for existing.” shoko started. taking a puff from her cigarette. the stick between her slender fingers glowing brightly. “strong words, sho.” suguru commented. “what we did do for you to say that?” satoru grumbles. chewing the candy he was eating out of his frustration. it's not like for shoko to say things like that knowing that she leaves them do whatever it pleases them.

“you know damn well.” shoko flicks the cigarette. the ashes dancing before it disappears in the wind before putting the cigarette in her lips.

suguru then took a puff of his smoke and sighs. he knows where this conversation is going. “what happened to her, sho?” taking the sight of the lawn below him while he leans on the railing of their frat house. satoru who was earlier grumbling stops and listened to what shoko have to say about you.

“she overdosed and was in coma for two days, you idiots.” shoko revealed them and satoru was the first to say something about it. “overdosed?” he let out a laugh. disbelief painted on his face.

“and how we are involved in this?” suguru raises a brow at her and shoko remains looking in the front. not sparing a glance to the two idiots besides her. “do i really need to tell you two? you were all over her since last semester and for all i know is both of you are fucking her! literally and figuratively. you sick fucks!” shoko without blinking tell them. never they did see shoko to be so worked up.

“calm down shoko. we're just playing with her and we didn't know that she'll end up there. maybe, she was experimenting.” fixing his glasses as he explained to shoko but she was having none of it and the cigarette burns faster as she took a long deep breath from it.

“we thought she was tipsy that night. we didn't know she done it.” suguru added.

“i can't believe you two! and seriously experimenting? what the fuck is that thinking, satoru! and you suguru, of all people! i thought you were the empathetic one. you left her to die, you fucking assholes!” shoko said enraged. throwing her cigarette in anger and pulling another one. struggling to light the goddamn lighter. geto grabs the lighter from her. it smoothly lights as he clicks the lighter and shoko lights her cigarette. “i just can't believe you two were capable of that.” shoko sighs, rubbing a tense spot in her head. she got a headache and two literal headaches as her friends.

fuck, how did that happen. you were fine and maybe you were a little tipsy when they left you and it was nothing serious about it. you were being stubborn that night and how the fuck did you end up overdosing yourself. he just can't believe it.

suguru looks at shoko. the dark circles below her eyes got darker than it was. late hours shifts as an intern does this to her and he thinks about you. he kept an eye to you that night and he only takes his eyes off you for a second and you already put yourself in trouble and maybe that's the reason you got dragged to him and satoru. he stares at his friend. handsome he may look but this one could be a pain in the ass. entitled and a spoiled brat. that's what makes them a perfect pair despite their differences. he can ground satoru but when it comes to you. they're both in line in each other's whims.

“is she okay, sho?” satoru asks.

“she'll live.”

“is she still in there?”

shoko scoffs. “what you two going to send her a get-well-soon card after endangering her?” the sarcasm hits and satoru winces. “and to answer your question. she transferred hospitals and don't know where and even i know, i won't tell you both. it's best for her to be away from you two.” finishing her cigarette and then tucks her hands in her pockets. she walks away but stops.

“fair warning you two, it will bite back.” she says and left without looking back.

that was years ago. they tried to find you and it always pointed them in a dead end. can't say they're a changed men now but they did mature and the damage they had done to you was the worst thing.

satoru sits in his chair. it was two years now since it was passed to him. he's the heir after all and now ceo. suguru is still out there and sometimes would visit. have his own business ventures to attend too and is now, engaged to his fiancé whom his father had arranged. sometimes, he thinks about you. were things to be different around here if you were here and it looks like his prayer was answered.

you came walking through his doors.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader x geto

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marxistcomedy · 10 months

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The term commodity fetishism objectively should bring to mind the way economic actors, both rich and poor, declare themselves powerless before the pressures exerted by the world of commodities (“I’m sorry I have to fire you, but the market told us your services aren’t needed”). It’s conceptually quite similar to Adam Smith’s much-celebrated liberal notion of “the invisible hand of the market,” but rather than benevolent and wise Marx invites us to see this system as a sinister cult. The term commodity fetishism was never meant to scold people for liking material things; it’s not meant to generate guilt after the realization that one craves certain consumer goods (“I’m so bad, but those new shoes sure look pretty”).

Commodity fetishism describes the objective fact that in capitalism we don’t generally relate to each other as humans asking each other to do things, but rather indirectly command each other through commodities. If I go to a restaurant, I don’t beg the cook to make me a meal and the waiter to deliver it, nor do I imperiously threaten them with violence, nor do I cajole them into it. I just buy the meal. The meal itself then appears to command them to move, like a little god! And I in turn must similarly follow the commands of commodities in order to acquire the money to purchase such meals. This is how the factory comes to want to be used, and how the tropical fruit comes to want to find its way to Stockholm. As Marx puts it:

“To [producers], their own social action takes the form of the action of objects, which rule the producers instead of being ruled by them.”

From this perspective, one of the central tasks of communists is to liberate workers not from work or desire itself, but from a generalized lack of decision-making agency in the face of crude economic fetishism. People should decide what people do, not commodities! Looking for alternatives to enslavement by commodities, some look back to feudal, religious, and romantic patriarchal forms of despotism, but socialists look ahead, towards socialism’s multidimensional interaction and negotiation, demotic and democratic.

#red sails #roderic day #essays*

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azrielhours · 2 months

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Captured

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2018

Synopsis: The camera has been invented and Azriel takes up a hobby of capturing reader, proving how pretty she can be.

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“What is it?”

“An obscura camera, I think we called it.” You turned the device around for him to see the little hole to look through, let him hold it. “It means ‘dark room.’ Light travels in through here,” you pointed to the lens, “and an image is captured using refraction and shadows.”

Azriel frowned in disbelief, making you laugh.

“Watch,” you said, gently taking the Obscura from his hands.

“What do I have to do?”

“Nothing,” you smiled, positioning it before your face. “Smile for me.”

He gave a small, tentative smile. The distrust in his eyes had you laughing again, which made Azriel chuckle genuinely.

You clicked something. A shutter sounded, light flashed, and Azriel’s eyes widened. You pulled the obscura away as it rattled, producing a thin strip of rectangular film. Azriel’s frown returned. “It’s black.”

“It has to develop,” you plucked it away and placed it facedown. “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

“This is what you’d been working on with Nuan?” he asked, referring to the alchemist who’d been in town for a few weeks.

You nodded. “It’s an early prototype, but it mimics the way light enters the eye.” A mixture of her trinketry, your crafty impulses, and some magic. “All this work so we can finally capture your pretty face,” you teased, enjoying the pink dusting his cheeks. You turned the piece of film to him, relishing Azriel’s shock upon peering down at the photograph.

That sincere smile you’d managed to capture was how you often caught him looking at you. A sweet, receptive earnestness lighting his normally cold face. Eyes that beheld you like he missed you even when you hadn’t gone anywhere. Now etched permanently into a photograph for you to cherish.

It was your turn to blush. Playful words aside, this truly did catch his beauty.

He met your gaze. “Teach me how to use it.” You demonstrated, pointing to shoot the nearby bookshelf, but Azriel shook his head. “I want one like that,” he nodded to his headshot.

Your nose crinkled. “I don’t photograph well, Az.”

He scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you?” He positioned the obscura over his eyes like you had.

You covered your face with your hands, hiding. “I don’t like the posing.”

“Come on,” he cooed, laughing. He reached to move your hair where it fell forward as you ducked your head, then gently held your wrists beneath your chin, broad hand easily cradling them between a thumb and two fingers. He tilted your face up with his hold. You peered at him through your fingers, rosy cheeks peeking through digits. Still holding your wrists, he took the photo effortlessly.

You uncovered your face, still blushing. He wondered how you didn’t see what a perfect subject you’d be. How you could invent the obscura and deprive him of its most obvious benefit.

Azriel studied you, and you saw the gears turn in his head. “Can I borrow it for a while?"

You laughed. “Okay, Az.”

It started off rather clumsy, and it took a few tries for Azriel to figure out that lighting mattered. That snapping photos with light in the immediate background ruined the film. He tested his hypothesis by capturing a bewildered Cassian, the confusion frozen making Azriel chuckle. He understood why you’d been laughing at him before. Next, he found that distance was important; that he could shift the angle of his photography. A practice shot of Feyre losing herself in a painting, so focused that she didn’t turn to wonder about the shuttering sound. Rhys landing on a balcony after training. Nesta reading ferociously by the fire.

He got the hang of it and was ready to really begin.

I don’t like the posing, you’d told him. He had no issues with that whatsoever.

The first one happened in the kitchen. The early morning hours were typically shared by the both of you on the grounds of a close friendship. You’d been sipping on coffee like it was medicinal, the light of the sun softening everything. Eyes closed, hair still slightly undone from sleep. He loved seeing you in your fancy dresses, your fighting leathers, but something about seeing you in soft, utterly personal nightwear—linen pants, knit cardigans, slippers—it spread warmth through his chest brighter than your revered sunrise. Today he'd even caught you in his t-shirt you must’ve swiped. Carefully positioning the Obscura over his face where he stood at the doorway, he snapped his photo before inconspicuously joining you, inquiring about the theft he quietly adored. Adoring your answering smile even more.

The next shot was on the rooftop. He’d caught Cassian bandaging you up after sparring. You were sat on the bench, smiling bloody and beautiful. Laughing as Cassian cracked jokes, allowing him to tend to you. He was kneeling on the ground before you, cleaning the cuts on your brow, wrapping your bruised knuckles. The sheer glee in your laugh, the way you sat so comfortably with his brother had Azriel reaching into the pocket realm for the Obscura, capturing the sight of his favourite people bantering fresh out of the ring.

One night after Rita’s, Rhys had offered to fly you home after winning a drinking game against Azriel. He’d winked at the bested Shadowsinger, taking you into his arms and shooting to the sky. Azriel grumbled at first until he’d realized the opportunity he had mid-flight with Rhys ahead. You reached to the skies above, stretching like you could grab the very moon, safe in the High Lord’s arms. He wished the Obscura had the power to capture the sound of your laughter as well, but he’d gladly settle for your silhouette marked by the Night Court stars, their beauty dimmed in the face of your exquisite joy.

The next photo was stolen after a Hewn City mission. You’d been in a billowing dark gown, face so ethereal, so striking and utterly beautiful that he’d struggled to look at you face-on. Everyone had taken to sprawling on the couches after coming home, still in formal attire, helping themselves to drinks as they winded down. You’d fallen asleep at some point, stretched comfortably across the sofa with your head nearly hanging off, hair cascading around you like a halo and down the sofa to the ground. Feyre mentioned wishing she could paint the sight of you, sleeping like some spite or nymph, some woodland creature of beauty, your dress ballooning around you like a nightshade flower. Azriel silently pulled out the Obscura, taking his time levelling the device so the light of the hearth illuminated your face.

“What is that thing you keep doing?” Cassian asked lowly.

Azriel focused, capturing the shot. Taking another one just for good measure. “Nothing.”

His favourite photo was of you and Nyx. You’d been playing with the boy on the balcony, blowing bubbles as he tried dutifully to pop them. They’d land and settle in his hair, making you laugh boisterously, head tipping back as Nyx laughed with you unwittingly. It was like the sun loved you, how it always shone upon you, doing the work for Azriel. He took the photo, falling into the easy routine. Once that photo developed, his heart skipped a beat at its sight. At the promise it captured that he wished was his.

He was a lucky bastard to have this gift—a device that finally allowed him to freeze the light that you were in his life, to etch the sights he so sincerely loved. God, you were special. Azriel had to walk away from the balcony, still staring at the little strip of film, more invaluable than precious jewel. How lucky he was to witness you. Luckier still to capture you in still frames, while you unknowingly captured his heart.

Azriel found you in your room, sitting at your vanity. He handed the obscura to you. “There’s no more film.”

You laughed. “Wow. How many photos did you take?”

He shrugged, smiling roguishly. “A handful.”

“Can I see?”

He handed a few.

You rifled through them, gasping at the quality. “These are amazing.” He’d captured Feyre descending the stairs in her regalia, beautiful like a divinity of legend. Nesta pouting playfully, glaring right at the camera. Mor putting earrings in before an outing. “Their mates would love these,” you murmured.

“They would,” he agreed.

You shook your head, stunned. “God, they’re beautiful.” Azriel didn’t know if you meant the photos or who he captured in them. “I wish I photographed this good.”

He would’ve laughed at the absurdity if he could resist his scoff of disbelief. “You do.”

You just shook your head, sneaking a quick glance at yourself in the mirror before eyeing the photos again.

Azriel’s heart stuttered. “You do,” he repeated. “I—” he reached into the pocket realm. “I took some of you as well.” Handing over a few photos, he watched closely as your eyes widened. You took your time studying each photo, brows pinched. He didn’t know if it was in dislike, or—

“Wow,” you breathed. You met his gaze. The fragility in them told him it was awe. “Azriel,” you breathed again, assessing the shots. “Wow. You make me look…”

You faded to silence. “What,” he gently nudged you.

“Pretty.”

He tried to speak. A breath puffed out of him. “Y/n,” he couldn’t stop the reverence in his tone. “You’re beautiful. What do you mean?” He didn’t care how it came off, how saying it warmed his cheeks.

He’d only pulled out a few of the tamer photos. The ones of you with his family or in mundane solitude. He immediately pulled out the rest, laying them before you. The pinch deepened between your brows, looking at the one of you after Hewn City. “Oh my god,” you breathed. You had no idea you could look so… “beautiful.”

“Yes,” Azriel nodded. “Beautiful.” He pointed to the one of you in the kitchen, freshly woken up. “Here as well.” Always.

You took your time studying them, unable to find it in you to care about how stupidly vulnerable this struck you. Too busy grappling with the comfort of feeling this seen. You finally met his gaze, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought that look in his eyes was…

If you were well and truly self-indulgent, you may have called it how you felt inside.

Azriel wished he had just one more piece of film to capture the look on your face. The depth of fondness in your eyes, like he was worth seeing. His heart stuttered again, holding that stare like he could pour his affection directly from his eyes to yours.

“Will you be keeping these?” you asked about the photos.

Azriel chuckled. “Yes. Try taking even one away.”

Oh.

You blushed, breaking his stare. A fine line to toe with your friend indeed.

But Azriel enjoyed that conviction on your face when you saw yourself as he did. “Okay,” he let up, exhaling in mock annoyance. “You can have a few.” He took most of the photos back, making sure to leave you with a copy of the Hewn City one. “I mean, I can always take more.”

You laughed, standing to retrieve your satchel, pulling out spare film. You showed Azriel how to load it in, but before handing the Obscura back, you eyed the first photo he’d taken, with his hands holding your wrists. “I want one like that,” you said, reaching for his face.

He laughed but didn’t bat your hand away, to your pleasant surprise. Only standing firm, albeit leaving his face uncovered. You cradled his face gently by the chin in one hand, resting your fingers on his cheeks, barely pressing. He smiled warmly at you, looking right through the camera at you. You captured him.

“There,” you handed back the obscura. “Now I got you,” you held up his matching photo.

He liked the sound of that. “I have you too,” he raised his collection of your photos in his hand in reminder. “And I’ll be keeping you with me.”

taglist:

@iimisty-a @feyretopia @riddlesb1tch @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @lilah-asteria @bakananya @deep-forest-creature @itsswritten

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfiction #azriel/reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azrielhours

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