#A Storytelling Session for a Month

[lvdbbooks]

【告】

2025年1月29日（水）〜2月27日（木）

劉李杰「一個月的故事會」

会場：LVDB BOOKS（大阪東住吉区田辺3-9-11）

営業時間: 13:00～20:00（日月休み）

/

LVDB BOOKSの書物（テキスト、写真）からリサーチし、絵画と文字で関係した写真を置き換えて、歴史的な記録を再構築します。このプロセスにより、本来無関係な写真やテキストなとが整理され、ストーリー性と新たな意味を生み出す、目に見えないが歴史的かつ社会的な空間に関連する記憶が浮かび上がるような感覚を作り出すことを目指しています。

劉李杰 | LIU Lijie

1989年 中国浙江寧波市生まれ、大阪在住。

学歴 2020年 京都精華大学大学院芸術研究科博士後期課程単位取得退学 2017年 京都精華大学大学院芸術研究科博士前期課程芸術専攻（版画コース）修了 2012年 湖北美術学院芸術学部 版画コースイラスト専攻卒業

個展 2023年「無聲誦讀」The Terminal Kyoto、京都 2022年「Remembrance / Forgetfulness」香老舖松栄堂・薫習館、京都 2021年「9日間雨が降り続けた」京都精華大学サテライトスペースDemachi、京都 2020年「Another Garden」ギャラリー恵風、京都

主なグループ展 2024年「ARTISTS’FAIR KYOTO 2024」京都新聞ビル 地下1階、京都 2022年、2018年「大地の芸術祭 越後妻有アートトリエンナーレ 」旧枯木又分校、新潟 2022年「いきをする間」GURA STUDIO / GALLERY、京都 2020年「ARTISTS’FAIR KYOTO 2020」京都文化博物館別館、京都 2017年「Stone Letter Project」Gallery TRI-ANGLE、兵庫 2016年「Art book in China abC / f展」上海民生美術館、上海（中国）

[nordpolen]

Sometimes I doubt my abilities as a Vampire: The Masquerade storyteller a lot, but then there are sessions where my players post memes based on the session, or add sounds to the soundboard, or help wingman eachother with the NPC's. It's really starting to feel like their Coterie is a small family, and I absolutely adore it. So here are a few of the memes my players posted for todays session.

[tomaturtles]

Happy one year anniversary of me reading campus apocalypse for the first time and being so normal about it

[moviecritc]

hii could you write something about lestappen x reader? maybe taking care of max because he is sick? thank you 💕

sick days ⋆ lestappen

pairing: lestappen x reader

summary: after going on a long run in the morning, max ends up sick, but he doesn't accept it

word count: 1.5K

a/n: ok im in love with this, if you guys have more lestappen requests do them!! bc i love writing em <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling.

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Another day, Charles and you woke up feeling the absence of a body in your bed.

"Has he gone out for a run again?" you asked as you approached Charles's bare torso.

"I think so," he nodded, his voice sleepy. You leaned against Charles's chest to see the clock on the nightstand, eliciting a groan from one of your boyfriends.

"It's seven in the morning," you said, almost in a groan yourself.

You collapsed onto the bed, planting a kiss where your hand had rested before. You stretched out, and Charles slipped out of bed, putting on one of Max's Red Bull t-shirts. Before leaving the room, he kissed you on the forehead and then on your bare collarbone. You stayed in bed a little longer, dozing off while Charles prepared breakfast, as he did every morning. The winter break was your favorite time of the year. After being stressed all season with work, going back and forth, and spending weeks without seeing them, these months were the best gift.

Your days revolved around having breakfast together when Max returned from his run. Then, you would make love leisurely and shower together. If you felt like it, you would go shopping or play paddle tennis, then return home to cook together. The boys would then train in the sim or at the gym, and you would usually go for a walk with your friends or even train with them. Although when that happened, it often ended up in a long cardio session in bed. And to end the day, you would go out for dinner at some fancy place in Monaco and then drink and dance at a club.

That morning, Max took a little longer to arrive, but when he walked in, it seemed like a cold smoke followed him. It was mid-December, and it had been a cold winter in Monaco.

Max entered the kitchen and kissed Charles and then you. You noticed his outfit. "Aren't you cold, love?" You looked him up and down, with his short shorts and tank top clinging to his body from the cold sweat.

"Nah," he denied, brushing it off and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

You didn't think much of it until you went to open the window in your room and received a gust of cold air from outside. You were attentive to your boyfriend's behavior for the rest of the day, noticing how he had sneezed several times in the last hour or how, after the shower, he seemed even more tired than usual.

At noon, while Charles was preparing pasta for lunch, you went to Max, who was lying on the couch.

"How are you, love?" You sat next to him, intertwining your arm with his, and noticed - or rather heard - as Max sniffed his nose.

"Fine, why'd you ask?" Max furrowed his brow, feigning confusion.

"Oh, no reason," you shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "I just notice you seem tired."

Charles had an ear on the conversation, also noticing that Max was probably brewing something and hadn't mentioned it for some stereotypical nonsense he thought.

"No, no. Don't worry, schat," Max assured. "I'll go help you now."

He leaned in to kiss you, but at that moment, he started coughing heavily. You let out a sweet laugh and went over to Charles.

"Char, I think our Max is getting sick," you nodded, while Charles put an arm around your waist.

"It can't be!" Charles exclaimed, pretending to be surprised.

"No!" Max jumped in immediately, stood up, and practically ran towards them, swaying a little. "I'm not getting sick."

Max let out a heavy breath and leaned on the counter, catching his breath that he had lost in the four steps he had taken.

"I see," Charles commented, walking past him and giving him a gentle pat on the butt.

"Max, why don't you go lie on the couch? We'll take care of this," you suggested with a comforting smile.

Max rolled his eyes in a very exaggerated way and crossed his arms as you and Charles looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

"I'm going to the sim, I can see I'm not wanted here," he said, with a somewhat sad look.

When Max left, Charles and you looked at each other. "Is he mad?" you asked, leaning on Charles's shoulder and hugging him from behind while he cooked.

"Nah, he just thinks he's the strong one in the relationship," He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

In all the time you had been together, you had never seen Max weak. You had seen Charles cry and complain countless times over any little thing. But Max? That man seemed like a piece of iron when it came to feelings. He hadn't even cried at the end of How To Train Your Dragon, and although to some extent the image of a strong guy and the pillar of the relationship was fine, you were dying to see his softer side.

Twenty minutes later, Charles had finished cooking the pasta, and you went to the room where the sim set was.

"Charles, come see this," you called. He came immediately, finding Max totally asleep in the chair, with the car crashed in the first curve of the Monaco Grand Prix.

"Do we wake him up?" Charles whispered, looking at him lovingly.

"Wait," You approached him carefully, taking a picture of him. "Okay, wake him up," you smiled.

Charles began to leave soft kisses on Max's cheek and lips, even lightly biting his earlobe. The sleeping man let out a loud gasp and practically jumped up from the chair.

"Hey, easy, easy," Charles said, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"How you doing, sleeping beauty?" you said.

"I wasn't sleeping,"

"Oh, sure not," Charles said, with a little smile. "Wanna come eat with us?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Max nodded, stifling a yawn.

Both Charles and you heard him blowing his nose for almost two minutes straight. Max appeared in the living room, trying to pretend he was fine, but his reddened nose gave him away.

He helped set the table. "What are we going to do this afternoon?" the blonde asked before blowing his nose.

Charles and you exchanged glances, knowing that if you didn't do anything, Max would keep insisting he was perfectly fine.

"I don't feel like going out today," you commented calmly.

"Yeah, me neither," Charles agreed.

Both saw the look of relief on Max's face. "Oh, okay. Well, nothing then," he pretended.

"We can watch a movie," you suggested, shrugging.

After lunch, you cuddled up on the couch, and you chose the movie. You noticed Max moving closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder, which was usually the other way around. Towards the end of the movie, you heard Max sniffling repeatedly, and you didn't even consider that they could be tears until you saw Max wiping his face.

You glanced at him. "Are you crying?"

"No…" Max muttered with a thin voice.

Charles looked at them. "You're crying!" he exclaimed, and quickly changed positions, with Max now in the middle.

"It's just… he found someone who loves him," he said between tears, pointing at the TV. "Like I love you guys."

Charles and you looked at each other with a pout, immediately showering him with kisses. You were watching Shrek.

"Wait, wait, I don't wanna get you sick," Max said, denying the kisses.

Charles backed off a bit in surprise. "Are you admitting you're sick?"

"Of course I'm sick, look at me,"

They chuckled a little, and you got up to get some cough syrup and ibuprofen for your boyfriend, finally. It barely took a minute, but when you returned, Max was lying on Charles's chest while he stroked his hair.

"Did he fall asleep again?" you whispered.

"I think so, come here," Charles stretched out his hand, and you wrinkled your nose a bit.

"I don't want to wake him up,"

Charles rolled his eyes. "Come here, mon ange," he repeated.

You stretched out on the couch, under Charles's arm and covering Max with a blanket. From where you were, you could see Max sleeping perfectly.

"It's so cute to see him like this," you whispered to Charles, while he gave you kisses on your jaw and ear.

"Isn't it?" Charles agreed. "And get ready for tomorrow because he's going to be clingier than ever."

"It's like he's been waiting for this moment all my life," you said, with a radiant smile.

Charles chuckled slightly, causing Max to move a bit, letting out a moan and falling back asleep immediately.

[katiascraft]

“I need to confess. I told you a lie. I said you were the love of my life.” | LN4

part 2 of this.

Parings: Lando Norris x Ex!Bisexual!Reader.

Summary: after leaving Lando, you realized what real love was like. Unfortunately, he didn’t and all he could think about every time he looks at his new parter is you.

Now playing: “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE” by Billie Eilish.

Word count: +2k.

Warnings: angst (?) insults (?) cursed words. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: maybe this sucks. well I don’t know but I just came to this idea for a part 2 no one asked of this but yeah. Reader deserved a happy ending ❤️‍🩹 Don’t forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It’s been 10 months since the worst day of your life. The day you had enough of the place that you weren’t enough for. The place who made you so miserable and insecure. The place that broke you in so many pieces it turned you to dust. The place where you never want to go back to.

It’s been the hardest 10 months of your life. Mourning the life you thought you would have forever was the worst process you got yourself through. How you had to not only get over your ex, Lando, but also the you that wasn’t gonna be you anymore for the rest of your life. And that was the hardest past. Let go of who you were when he was in your life and let go of all the memories. It was like learning to be a functioning human being again. And you also thought you couldn’t bear with being single. You felt so ashamed of not remembering how to approach people or even how to feel attractive yourself. You were nothing after that day.

For your family and friends was heartbreaking too. Not only because they had to mourn lando that now was out of your life so then their lives as well, but also the you they knew before and during the relationship. And now learning to know this new you.

It was hard for the first 3 months but thanks to your friends and intense therapy sessions you eventually got better. You started discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed. Leaving lando changed you not 180 degrees but 360. You changed your style, your hair, your humor, your attitude. You spoke up. Had a strong opinion. You started being more selective with people and for a long time you remained single. you worked on you. Trying to give yourself back everything that relationship took away. You made new friends and moved to New York to start a new life. In that city you found you loved music and storytelling so you started a musical career on YouTube and became kind of famous. You also went to university. And now you’re a content creator, you upload vlogs of your everyday life and opinions. You love fashion like crazy and post your outfits on Instagram and TikTok along with your music. And you are back into being happy. Not only with your life but with yourself. You love who you are and what you do for a living. There’s no one you have to follow or leave everything behind. You live now in your own world where you are the thing that matters the most. You feel so grateful you made it through.

But you were also madly loved for who you are. Tania was your new girlfriend. You didn’t even know you liked girls as well. You tried with guys but none of them felt right for you until you met Tania in a little music shop two blocks away from your apartment. It was the most romantic way of meeting someone you believed. You two went to the same shop to buy the same album and oh coincidence of life there was only one copy of it. And that’s how you met. She gave it to you and so you offered her to come to your place and listen to it together. Yeah you offered that to a stranger but she looked so beautiful. You felt something so weird you haven’t ever felt before in your life. His blonde hair so shiny and his brown eyes so deep you could drown in them with no problem. She was gorgeous.

In fact, you never felt so seen until you met her. The way she actually listened to what you had to say. The way he understood your insecurities and tried to help you and figure it out together. The way you could laugh for hours non-stop until you went dry from crying of laughter. When you felt how you felt with her you knew Lando didn’t matter at all. He never loved you for who you were. He never appreciated all of the sacrifices you did for him just because you thought you loved him your entire life. The way you listened and supported him anywhere, anyhow, whenever. You gave everything for him, but what about you? He never noticed you. He never saw you. He never cared about you.

Realizing that hurt at first but then you understood it was the wrong person at the wrong time. Because if you hadn’t been through what he put you through then this wouldn’t be your life and you wouldn’t be this loved.

But you know what they say, life’s a bitch so here you were again in Monaco for Alexandra’s birthday. It was gonna be a huge event in a yacht for all of her friends. So of course you knew lando was coming and you also knew because of Alex he had a new girlfriend as well. You weren’t intimidated by him but you felt a little insecure you know. You felt rather uncomfortable. But Alex was your friend and she was so nice she invited Tania as well and few of your hometown friends so you wouldn’t feel left apart. Alex knew you so well. You always have struggled with fitting in. She was really sweet. But at the same time you were also so excited to see the guys again. You talked to Pierre and kika. They were so excited to see you. You missed them all of course you did. Moving countries and having an ex who drives along them made things ticky. It was complicated to meet and hang around outside weekend races during the year and of course you wouldn’t assist knowing lando was there. You didn’t want to see him. So tonight is fireproof. If you see him again and survive then the paddock should get ready to see you every now and then with you gorgeous girl.

She knew about Lando of course. And she was the most supportive angel to you. Of course she also hated him. And probably could kill him if you let her. But she won’t just because you asked her.

you were going by taxi. You didn’t have your car because you were on the other side of the world and you wouldn’t waste money renting one just to go to a party in a yacht. You didn’t care about appearances anymore. You got to the harbor just in time. Most of the invited guests were already there. You got there with Tania in your hand and your group of friends. You looked around seeing so many familiar faces and the first one to run to you and hug you tightly was Kika followed by Pierre. You giggled on her shoulder hugging her as well.

“Oh my god girl you look fucking beautiful what the fuck I missed you so much” she said on your shoulder so excited to see you. It flattered your heart.

“I missed you too, my love” you said sweetly. And when you pulled apart you hugged Pierre and introduced Tania to them. They were always so warm. You really missed them. A few minutes passed and you were talking along with a lot of the formula 1 drivers and their partners just like the old days. You felt so part of it. And so loved. And all of them were so nice to Tania. She was so excited that she met Max and he posed for a picture with her that it melted your heart completely. You didn’t see lando by the way. He hasn't arrived yet. But Carlos didn’t either so probably they were coming together. After 15 minutes, the birthday girl finally arrived with her prince in hand and all of the guests were there. The yacht was ready as well. Lando was there with her. You knew her of course you did. She was friends with Max and Kelly. Of course you remember her. Lando is so predictable. You wanted to laugh in his face but you didn’t. You didn’t even say hi. You didn’t want to and you guess he didn’t either because he barely looks at you when he arrived.

(…)

The party was formidable and you were already drunk laughing and posing. Kika was trying to take a couple of pictures of you and Tania and the sunset behind you. It was a beautiful picture.

“Oh my god you’re so beautiful” she said finally ending the photo shoot so she showed you the pictures.

It felt so satisfying being back and not giving a fuck about Lando. All of the guys were so welcoming and sweet like they always had been with you.

Tania had to go to the bathroom. “You want me to go with you titi?” You called her by her nickname you created. She smiled and gave you a kiss on your lips.

“I’m okay baby. I’ll be right back” she said and after giving you one last kiss she disappeared through all of the people around heading to the bathroom. You stayed with your group of friends dancing around and having fun. Alex was there two sharing with all of us. You loved that woman. She was one of your closest friends who was there with you to hold you and listen. She knew what it was like. But she is loved unlike you weren’t. You were enjoying yourself until you heard someone clearing their throat like exaggerated. You turned to find lando clearly drunk looking at you with puppy eyes yet so dark. You of course didn’t like to see him.

“Y/n we need to talk” he said almost in a whisper so no one could hear him but you. Inside you felt disgusted. His voice was once your favorite sound, one that could send chills down your spine. Now it kinda repulses you.

“No, we don't need Lando. Just pretend I don’t exist” you said clearly upset by his behavior.

“But I can’t y/n. I couldn't stop looking at you since I arrived. I can’t get you out of my head. I tried. But I don’t know what else to do!” He was clearly drunk. And you were unbothered to be honest. You noticed Carlos and Oscar heard him and looked at you. You just rolled your eyes at lando.

“Then it’s not my fucking problem lando. You had me but you couldn’t give a damn about me. Sorry it's too late. I’m happy now and I am loved” you spitted about to turn when he grabbed your arm for you not to go.

“You said I was the love of your life. What happened to that? I know you’re the love of my life. Please, y/n” he said kind of desperately. You looked at him with a poker face. You felt nothing at all. And yes you were surprised but also so proud. Lando Norris meant nothing at all finally. He couldn’t move you. He didn’t have power over you anymore. You won.

“Well then I need to confess I lied. You weren’t the love of my life Lando. You were the motherfucker of my life. You fucking destroyed me. So stop with all of this bullshit” you said Angry. You were saying the truth without being afraid of it. You didn’t care anymore. Now your life is yours and he had no power over it. And you’re fucking happy. You just needed to make sure he knew it. And watch him suffer. And you could see something broke inside of him when he heard you saying that. Fortunately Tania came back from the bathroom just in time.

“Y/n, babe, is everything alright?” She asked, watching lando a little confused but controlling her desires to kill him right there.

You smiled at her. “Yeah beba all good now that you are here” you said, grabbing her by her waist and kissing her gently. She grabbed your face a little surprised at first. But she couldn’t say no to your lips. She was addicted. you didn’t care lando was there. You just kissed and turned to your group of friends ignoring that he was the guy you loved just like he did when he was with you.

[a-ikuoliver]

[prologue] — after another date ruined by your needy roommate, fifteenth to be exact, you hatch a revenge plot that'll either end with you moving out or finally scratching the itch that's been driving you insane.

w/c: 1.2k warning/s: f!reader, making out notes: i am having so much fun imagining annoying this man to death — don't expect serious storytelling here lmao inspo/acknowledgements: loosely inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days + what's your number (rom-com/chick flick vibes)

series masterlist | next chapter [tbd] ->

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

fourteen. that's how many times your roommate had called you mid-date, mid hookup, god, even mid-masturbation in the time you'd been living under the same roof.

"what could you possibly want?" you hope he can't hear your panting, hope he doesn't hear your dates chuckle, hardly muffled by your hand pressed over his mouth, your other tucking the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, reaching between your thighs for your dates belt with your now-free hand.

"is that any way to speak to a friend in need?" you roll your eyes, his voice thick over the phone as he lazily spoke, you could practically hear that infuriating smile he always had plastered on his lips through the technology. your hips jump, the deep sound zapping through your nerves; already pent up from kissing after… you can't even remember how many months without a date ending like this.

breathless, you respond in a tone you hope has at least a little venom threaded through it, more than a little irritation, "spit it out, aiku."

"need your key, i locked mine inside." your body slacks on top of the brunet beneath you, defeat filling you, your head falling forward with a silent groan, "you're kidding, right?"

fifteen.

he chuckles at your despair, a deep sound that echoes down the line, sounding just as unapologetic as he truly is, "sorry, pretty, you'll be good, won't you?"

tonight might be the night you kill him.

you'd had roommates before, accustomed to the arguments about chores, about mess, about bills, about noise, meeting eye-to-eye with oliver on every issue. the only problem with your apparent heaven-sent roommate? his habit of interrupting your dates, of cock-blocking you, leaving you at some level of unsatisfied the entire time you shared the apartment — some weeks it was bearable, more like a dull ache in your stomach, others having you about to claw and scratch at the walls.

"call me? we can do this again some other time?" leaning over the threshold, you press a final, sultry kiss to the brunet's lips, sliding a slip of paper with your number in it into his pocket as you did; your hope at a rain check diminishing the moment you step back, your date already tucking his belt back into its loops, thick fingers that were just gripping your thighs already tapping at his phone screen, the familiar pink and white flame symbol beneath his thumb.

you watched number fifteen slip through your fingers, probably the most attractive of all the men aiku had ripped away from you.

the final man, you decide.

you're almost certain your passenger rating had suffered dearly from all of your frustrated, angry mumbling as you sent hushed rant after hushed rant to your friends about how absurd your roommate is on your way back to the shared apartment (omitting some of the details about your intense need after making out for twenty minutes, mostly for the sake of your driver), most of them responding with meaningless gushing about how he at least was kind enough to give you free shows, the muscular expanse of his back something burned into all their minds after aiku crashed your pre-gaming session once after returning home from a game. one of them (uselessly) advising you to just bed aiku instead.

by the time the car had turned the final corner to your place, you'd stewed in your anger for too long, tossing your keys at oliver a little too hard when you face him, just after nine. he catches them (only infuriating you more, sure a vein is about to burst). he looks good, still in his clothes from the gym if you had to guess, a black shirt that clung to his biceps, and shorts that made his thighs more like tree limbs than human ones (only infuriating you more). he quirks a dark eyebrow at you, twirling the keys around his finger before sliding them into the lock.

"do you plan this?" trailing in behind him, dragging your feet as you do, you tug your keys back out of the door, too annoyed, too frustrated to even care about your roommate lifting the tight shirt over his head, gripping the collar at the back of his neck to pull it off, shoulder blades flexing and rippling with every movement, no matter how minute.

"plan what?" oliver shouts from his bedroom, keeping the door ajar, awaiting your answer as he changes.

"do you know how many men you've scared off?" you throw yourself down onto the couch dramatically, "have you bugged my phone or something? hack it so you can call me the moment i’m with a guy?" 

oliver's face splits into a grin, his expression only described as proud, mismatched eyes glimmering as he tightened the watch on his wrist, "hack you?" 

reaching for a decorative cushion, one you’d bought months ago to make the flat less of a bachelor pad, you bury your face in it, half to muffle your loud groan, half to avoid looking at him, now in slacks and a shirt you’re sure is a size too small, following every sharp plane of his shoulders, chest and hips, the top three buttons left undone to show off the tanned muscles beneath that he spent hours working on. the maddening sound of his laugh still invaded your senses, despite the stuffing around your ears.

it's like it was a talent, to sense when he was unwanted, when you were inches away from sating your craving, when all you wanted to forget all about his stupid face, his stupid deep voice, his stupid smug laugh. 

"maybe you have a sixth sense, like that kid who sees ghosts." 

"i think of it more as happy accidents." oliver dodges the cushion, his hand coming up to fix his hair as the other tosses the cushion back towards you, landing square on your chest as you groan childishly again at him. 

stupid face, stupid voice, stupid laugh, stupid reflexes. 

you track him as he moves around the apartment, eyebrows drawn down in a fiery glare as he tosses his shed clothes into the washing machine. the apartments tidy, you note, catching a glimpse of his spotless bedroom from the corner of your eye, his bed sheets crisp and pulled tightly over the mattress, pillows fluffed, every inch vacuumed and dusted.

the oliver you knew was never this clean, he pulled his weight but it’s not as if your apartment looked this brand new often. the oliver that had left no less than four sweaty shirts in the back of your car when he'd change after begging you to pick him up from training on your way home from work, the same oliver that had a varied collection of abandoned water bottles typically adorning his bedside table. this was different than tidy, there wasn't a sign of mess anywhere in the apartment, counters freshly cleaned in the kitchen, still sparkling beneath the kitchen lights, not even a speck of dust along the top of the tv screen. 

it was immature, completely, utterly foolish, there's no other word for your decision, but it's impossible to talk yourself out of it as you study him, returning from the immaculate bedroom smelling musky, woody, expensive.

a happy accident he called it? your celibacy while he dates and fucks anyone he wants? while you suffer week after week with your ache growing stronger, your toys hardly working for you anymore.

you refuse to see that arrogant, satisfied smile plastered on his face again.

“got a hot date tonight, aiku?”

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 11/2/24

prompt: date night

pairing/character(s): steddie, hellfire club

it's valentine's week!! hopefully i can do all the prompts this week :)

"And with that, the barkeep..."

Eddie pauses in his storytelling to glance away from the notes hidden by his DM screen and over to the clock. His eyes widen at the time. Is it really 7:53pm already? Shit.

"With that, this session is over. You'll find out what happens with the angry barkeep next week!"

Everyone in the room groans at that, a chorus of 'seriously's and 'what the hell, Eddie's starting up even as he hurries to put his notes back into his DnD folder, and dumps all his dice into his bag haphazardly.

No one seems to notice for a moment, too busy complaining about the cliffhanger, when Gareth suddenly pauses and examines Eddie with a curious look on his face.

"Hold on, you promised we'd finally find out more about the temple this session? Where was that?"

Eddie huffs in response, and doesn't even look up as he starts folding his DM screen.

"Yeah, that was before you guys decided to talk to every single person at the tavern for an hour and start a barfight."

"That's never stopped you from getting us to where you want us before!"

"Yeah!" "Exactly!" "Please, Eddie. What happens with the barkeep."

Eddie waves a hand at everyone, and looks up to see the younger kids complaining quietly to each other, and his closer friends still seeming to inspect him carefully. He supposes they're valid in that; he's not one to back down from his plans, and has never cut off a session like this before.

But. Today is special. Today he has...

"Oh my god, you have a date." Jeff suddenly says, his eyes a little wider than usual as he grabs at Freak's arm.

"What?! Who the fuck would he have a date with?" Freak scoffs.

Eddie ignores the blush fighting to appear on his cheeks and starts collecting all of his figurines scattered around the table.

"Eddie has a date?" Mike suddenly joins in from across the room.

And, great, now the baby sheep are involved too.

"It is none of you guys's business what plans I have after this session. But, really, I gotta go." Eddie tries, but now Dustin's attention is on him as well.

"That's so funny! Steve has a date tonight too- that's why we had to ask Nancy to pick us up tonight." He says with a laugh.

Eddie laughs along with him, a little strained now because Gareth, Jeff and Freak are now squinting at him.

"Yes.. What a coincidence." Gareth says slowly as Eddie continues to pointedly avoid eye contact.

"Anyway! Got a lot to, uh. Do. Running a bit behind schedule actually, so if you could.." Eddie says as he finally finishes shoving everything back into his backpack and throws it over his shoulder, gesturing toward the drama room's door.

The younger kids leave without much complaint, but Gareth, Jeff and Freak hang back and walk slowly alongside Eddie.

"So... Steve Harrington?" Jeff asks once the kids are out of earshot, his tone a little disbelieving.

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing!" Freak slaps him on the shoulder disapprovingly as he speaks.

"It's not a bad thing! Just.. unexpected!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Eddie tries.

"Sure, sure. Enjoy your totally not a date night that's totally not with Steve 'the hair' Harrington." As Gareth says that, they've finally reached the doors and Eddie can well and truly escape.

He's going to have to break a few road laws if he wants to get to Steve's on time. It's only their third date, so sue him if he wants to try to make a good impression.

Even if Steve's been his friend for a few months now, and already knows about his horrible time-keeping skills.... It's still worth a try. Anything to woo Steve Harrington.

-

part two

[luvrinne]

୭ SOME BOOKS THAT RORY GILMORE READ ׂ  𓈒

— 1984 by Orwell George

nineteen eighty-four by George Orwell is a dystopian novel that portrays a totalitarian society where personal freedom is non-existent. It warns against the dangers of totalitarian power, surveillance, propaganda, and thought control, in a powerful critique of modern society.

— atonement by Ian McEwan

atonement by Ian McEwan is a gripping novel that delves into the complexities of guilt, redemption, and the power of storytelling. Set in England during World War II, it follows the lives of three characters whose fates become intertwined after a tragic misunderstanding.

— the bell jar by Sylvia Plath

the bell jar details the life of Esther Greenwood, a college student who dreams of becoming a poet. She is selected for a month-long summer internship as a guest editor of Ladies' Day magazine, but her time in New York City is unfulfilling as she struggles with issues of identity and societal norms.

— christine by Stephen King

christine tells the story of a car apparently possessed by malevolent supernatural forces. A love triangle involving 17-year-old misfit Arnie Cunningham, his new girlfriend and a haunted 1958 Plymouth Fury. Dubbed Christine by her previous owner, Arnie's first car is jealous, possessive and deadly.

— the virgin suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides

the story, which is set in Grosse Pointe, Michigan during the 1970s, centers on the lives of five doomed sisters, the Lisbon girls. The novel is written in first person plural from the perspective of an anonymous group of teenage boys who struggle to find an explanation for the Lisbons' deaths.

— to kill a mockingbird by Harper Lee

to kill a mockingbird is a coming-of-age story about a girl named Scout. Scout and her brother Jem try to understand and relate to their father, Atticus, who is a lawyer charged with defending a Black man falsely accused of raping a white woman.

— sybil by Flora Rheta Schereiber

sybil is a gripping true story about a woman with multiple personality disorder. Written by Flora Rheta Schreiber, the book delves into the life of Sybil Dorsett and her 16 distinct personalities, as well as the therapy sessions with her psychiatrist, Dr. Cornelia B. Wilbur.

— pride and prejudice by Jane Austen

pride and prejudice follows the turbulent relationship between Elizabeth Bennet, the daughter of a country gentleman, and Fitzwilliam Darcy, a rich aristocratic landowner. They must overcome the titular sins of pride and prejudice in order to fall in love and marry.

@ luvrinne

[jello-library]

The Roommate Program (PT 2/?)

Finally part 2!! This one focus more on the reader/self insert!

Also I want to try writing the letters so you can get a feel of what being written instead of just getting vague descriptions!

I hope you enjoy it! 💛

Your first letter from your pen pal was…something else…to say the least. Paired with a prickly friendship bracelet. You felt like you opened Pandora's box with that first letter.

You sigh as you sit down in your office chair looking down at the blank sheet of paper nervously. What in the world do you write back? I mean, writing a letter about yourself is easy but continuing conversations is harder than it looks. What do you say now ���Hey I heard you went to solitary confinement was it fun?” Like how you continue talking with him?!

Twirling the pen in your hands your wings twitch and flutter nervously. You joined the program because being a past patient at the Theraprism who managed to opt out of the recarnation ceremony praise the axolotl for that one. You thought it was nice to try to give back to them you know to show that redemption is worth the effort! You felt like you had a pleasant experience there or maybe because you were more cooperative than your peers.

But after the copious amount of interviews and several months of being on the waiting list.

You finally were met with a small envelope congratulating you on your approval into the program and your pen pal. You thought things were finally going well for a chance.

Until…you were brought to have a one-on-one conversation with THE Axolotl themselves you felt like maybe this wasn’t a good idea anymore…They wanted to talk about your pen pal, Bill Cipher. You were somewhat familiar with the name mostly being associated with the chaos he left in his wake.

He was a force to be reckoned with.

Was…

“He is someone who is quite..um…complex..” Look up from your teacup to glance at the other being across the table. The word “Complex” still feels like an understatement to you. The axolotl smiled down at your eyes laced with slight concern before continuing.

“I’ve read your file..” Shit. ”You seem to have been the star patient during your stay. Self-admitted leading to 500,000 years stay before you were released. The top storyteller during puppet hour.“

You can feel yourself getting hot with embarrassment as you sink into your seat. “Yeah, Dr.Oswald says he misses my shows…” You swirl around the remaining tea left within the cup. You don’t know what to say or why they brought you here to begin with. Did all the other participants go through this conversation as well?

“I already know why he joined the program. But I hope for a better outcome than another trip to Wellness Void and I think you can help me with that.”

Looking back down at the blank sheet of paper the pen feels more lighter in your hand now. Just breathe and relax if you mess up you can fix it later.

Dear Bill,

Sorry for my first letter being so plain I can honestly admit I’m a bit nervous about messing this up. I never knew how to talk to someone without it feeling awkward so this is a new step for me. As someone who used to be in the same position you’re in I feel like I can you some advice on how to make your stay less boring! Like, if you want to get out of group therapy it’s time to start taking advantage of art time!

Start doing big projects that take up time with this when art time is over you can ask to stay. But it’s important to say it so can present your piece to the next time group therapy session! Use this advice sparingly those counselors in there are nice but they ain’t dumb! Also if the vending machine is still in the cafeteria hold down on the C button it should give you an extra snack but it’s sadly randomized.

Well, I hope this letter finds you well and also thank you for the bracelet I hope to make you something special when I write to you again!

Sincerely,

██████

[waltwhitmansbeard]

not to engage in Discourse™️, but i would like to once again remind people that your local dnd actual play show is not a scripted television show that can or should follow the normal rules of narrative flow. this is a collaborative storytelling effort that requires the careful scheduling and coordination of a lot of people. the crown keepers deviation was scheduled before fcg's death. matt couldn't just fuck with all those guests' schedules bc something inconvenient happened just before they were slated to come on. i cannot say for certain, but i'm willing to bet real american dollars that the live show was scheduled and the venue was booked before fcg died too (tho maybe not, i'm not an expert in venue scheduling), but what better place to have the new sam character drop than in a theatre full of your most adoring fans? the most logical time and place to do it? maybe not, idk. but it sure was exciting for everyone watching. not sure when this downfall three-shot was initially scheduled, but there's no way in hell matt and brennan haven't been working on it together for MONTHS, if not even a year. sometimes, things happen when they happen bc that's when you get people in a room together. that's kinda the whole thing about dnd, why so many campaigns fizzle out—scheduling is fucking hard. it wasn't convenient when tal had to miss the session after the huge briarwood dinner fiasco in c1, which was leading directly into the arc that dealt pretty exclusively with his backstory, but that is life! ppl are busy! things happen when they can happen! if you don't like that events and story beats aren't hitting precisely when it would be most narratively satisfying for them to do so, perhaps dnd/ttrpg actual plays aren't for you! sometimes the dice tell the story, and sometimes the google calendar does! that's life!

[stevelieber]

PORTLAND, Oregon: Want pro feedback on your comics? My monthly Office Hours session at Books with Pictures (1401 SE Division) is THIS FRIDAY, May 3rd.

Bring 6-8 pages of comics storytelling. I'll give you honest feedback based on my 30+ years in comics. What works, what doesn't, how to tweak a panel for clarity or impact, tips for saving labor- the sort of advice your teacher at a comics class might offer.

I'm not there to hire you, or read your pitch, or introduce you to a publisher. I'm there to look at the pages you've drawn.

(I restrict this to comics pages- storytelling- because that's what I know. Scripts, stand-alone illustrations, graphic design, posters? Sorry, those are out of my lane.)

It's fine if you work digitally, but BRING PRINTOUTS if you can. It's a LOT easier to critique work on paper than on screen. I can scribble notes right on your panels, or lay tracing paper on top of them. And we won't have to deal with app glitches, battery problems, or tiny phone screens.

We do this the first Friday of every month, 4-6PM. In-person, not online. It's 100% free. No charge. Free free free. Just bring your portfolio and your love of comic book storytelling! See you this Friday at Books With Pictures, 1401 SE Division.

RTs Appreciated!

[intothedysphoria]

One thing I love about the harringrove fandom is the agreement both that Steve is dyslexic and Billy is a MASSIVE reader.

Because while Steve’s always been surrounded by teachers or his parents or exes who either believe that he’s incapable of appreciating reading or that he just doesn’t care, Billy thinks that’s bullshit.

Because when Billy gets told to tutor Steve in English, he doesn’t start with a book for toddlers or fucking Shakespeare. They start with Billy reading him Wuthering Heights.

And at first Steve does not fucking get it. He doesn’t understand the plot, the message and especially not the dialect. But he finds himself enjoying it a lot. Billy’s a natural storyteller. He could be on stage.

Billy’s taste in books is both eclectic and weird. He’s reading Finnigan’s Wake for fun. In Irish. He likes Portuguese romance books and German surrealism and a lot of George Orwell. So much so that Steve kind of feels that love rubbing off on him.

He’d used to like reading. Before he was told he was doing it wrong. And even though he despised the books set by Hawkins High with every fibre of his being, there was this fire set in his belly, a want to impress Billy.

So he starts with The Hobbit. Eddie “Freak” Munson’s the only other dyslexic Steve knew and he loved that shit. How hard could it be?

The Hobbit is fucking difficult. It starts with a map, Steve thinks is in Elvish and some of the chapters feel like they go on forever. The words still bounce around the page and switch constantly. He likes it though. It’s weirdly fun as a story and he finds himself rooting for Bilbo.

Henderson can never know. That is the one thing Steve is certain of.

Billy doesn’t laugh when Steve tells him that’s what he’d decided to start with. He just rolls his eyes, not meanly and says he used to read that with his mom. Back in Cali. Before Neil fucked everything up.

Billy reads a lot of Oscar Wilde. The Importance of Being Earnest is constantly tucked into his back, dog eared and well loved. Steve knows enough about Oscar Wilde to know what that indicates.

Billy’s a poof. A faggot. A queer.

Billy is like Steve.

He doesn’t have the courage to look out for anything gay. Nothing even that hints at the matter. Steve knows that his dad has The Iliad tucked away in his office. He’s away on business while his mom sits in the kitchen and complains about America. Even after 15 years in the States, she still misses Poland.

His daring heist after she goes to bed leads to him sitting on the kitchen floor, crying about Achilles and Patroclus. Billy’s right, classics are a fucking bummer.

Steves not as stupid as other people think. He knows that if this were a book, him and Billy are hurtling towards deaths door. Even in real life, he’s seen the guys on tv, worn down to the bone on hospital beds.

Gay does not equal a happy ending.

He resolves to never touch The Iliad again.

Billy comes to their next session with a black eye and his mullet chopped off. They don’t talk about it.

1984 is depressing. And surprisingly apt for how Steve feels that his 1984 has gone. He does feel like he’s constantly being watched. Like being in love is illegal. Like saying anything too far against the government will have consequences.

Steve asks if Billy thinks Orwell wrote 1984 about America or Russia. Billy snorts but doesn’t answer.

That’s the note they end on for the year.

Christmas comes and goes. So does New Year. Two months of not seeing Billy aches in his gut.

Then he comes back.

It’s the middle of February. Billy’s been kicked out for a week. Steves playing nursemaid.

He’s beaten up pretty bad. Still, Billy insists he’s had worse.

Steve hedges around asking why it happened. Like the confirmation might suddenly make the full scope of their plight real.

Still, eventually Steve asks. Billy looks at him like he’s particularly simple.

He’s gay. Obviously Steve. And he actually has the balls to go out there, meet men, dance. Even if it does mean getting caught by Neil.

During his explanation, Steve notices they’ve gotten closer together. Like significantly closer.

They’re grazing hands. Electric.

Then Billy moves.

Billy kisses him and Steve’s world turns into a fucking supernova.

They kiss and it doesn’t make Neil vanish in a puff of smoke, it doesn’t make the shopkeepers who sneer at his mother go away, it doesn’t make Steve magically able to read.

But it does make Steve feel like maybe they’ll survive.

[thewertsearch]

AT: [...] mY TAKE ON THIS IS, AT: tHAT YOU CREATED OUR IMPOSSIBLY HARD BAD GUY, wHO WANTS TO KILL US, AT: aND BY ASSOCIATION, i GUESS THAT MAKES, AT: yOU THE BAD GUY TOO, AT: iNSTEAD OF A GOOD GUY WHO'S JUST MEAN, AG: Nice deduction! AG: Wrong, excruci8tingly linear, and laced with the sort of a8solutes morons like to throw around…….. AG: 8ut nice!

"Only a loser deals in a8solutes!"

It's hard to characterize Vriska as cleanly as Tavros is trying to - but we don't need to psychoanalyze her to know she's a liability. Vriska is actively impeding the team's attempts to deal with Jack, and she's not even pretending to blame causality anymore.

AT: i THINK, AT: i AM GOING TO HAVE TO STOP YOU, [...]

I like where your head's at, Tavros - but if you really want to stop Vriska, then you should drop that lance and run.

Make a beeline for the common room, and explain to Karkat that Vriska caused the Mistake. He'll fly into an incandescent rage, rallying the remaining trolls against her - including Terezi, who can actually stand up to her.

If you fight her yourself, you're fucked. An analysis would be a complete waste of time, and not just because your psionics are useless here. I could give you Bec, and I'd still bet on Vriska.

AG: Tell you what. AG: If you can find me in this la8, you can have at me. AG: I'll even give you a free shot! No funny 8usiness or anything.

Lady, you can survive a bomb to the face. This 'free shot' business is basically just a taunt, and everyone knows it but Tavros.

AT: oK, AT: tHEN, AT: hERE i COME,

Damn it, this is not where you want to be aiming your confidence. You can still reconsider. Please reconsider.

Or maybe you can take her, I dunno

Hello, Jade. What business could you possibly have with your other self?

More extracanonical shenanigans from Hussie, I take it.

Looks like this recap's going to be Vriska-themed. She seems to be controlling Hussie to write it, so I hope it's from her PoV - I have a feeling she'd be a very funny storyteller.

Not even Fantastica is safe from Lord English.

THE WINDY THING subsides, and clear skies prevail. You soar to the highest rung, and rule over your echeladder as the HEIR TRANSPARENT.

John's hit the level cap already?

Davesprite was killing Underlings for months, and he never hit his. Maybe he didn't have access to as much EXP, since his Underlings were only triple-prototyped.

You can also gain Echeladder levels by completing non-combat objectives - so actually, maybe Davesprite just didn't hit the proper milestones. His session was incomplete, after all.

With the Reckoning ticking down, the Players need to rush through the story, so they're probably just hitting Echeladder milestones offscreen.

The clouds have returned. The fireflies are still trapped. The spell remains unbroken.

Send all the hurricanes you like, John. Typheus yet lives, and the sky remains his domain.

[psychhound]

helllllloooo all!! a very very exciting announcement - i'm getting top surgery in a month!!

a much less exciting announcement - i could really use help paying for it 😭

i'm running a fundraiser for my top surgery (which you can find the post for here - it's pinned on my main @creacherkeeper) but i'm also hosting a games and homebrew sale lasting until the end of the month!

it would really mean the world to me if yall could spread this post around or check out my games!! this is something i've wanted for a really long time, and would really benefit my happiness, medical well being, and also safety as a queer, disabled, jewish person living in one of the most conservative states in the bible belt

the bundle includes:

all games and homebrew 60% OFF

the full 13-item bundle for only 25 bucks!!

4 solo journaling games - including a weird west storytelling game, a monster augury game, a cozy fairy war bookshelf-driven game, and a photography city exploration game

2 duet games - one a silly comedy interviewing game, the other a nature-driven relationship exploration game

a competitive multiplayer where you play as witches' familiars causing havoc in your village

a system agnostic party bonding game that you can fit into most other multiplayer systems for a fun roleplay session!

3 dnd classes, including a pokemon-inspired class, a con-based half caster witch, and a silly-played-straight dilf (gn) class

1 ghibli-inspired dnd pack, including subclasses, monsters, new races, feats, and backgrounds

1 queer weird west zine, with original poems and collages

spreading the word is sooooo appreciated!!! thank you so much to everyone who does!!! 🤠🤠

[s-che]

The Dream Library: Apocalypse World 2

The Dream Library had our second Apocalypse World one-shot earlier this week, ending out the end of a month of talking about D. Vincent and Meguey Baker’s game of high octane apocalyptica. Next month, we'll be continuing our semester of PBTA one-shots and book-club discussions with two excellent historical games: Night Witches and Sagas of the Icelanders.

If you'd like to get in on the discussion and maybe even sign up for a one-shot, shoot me a message -- we'd love to have you.

As with the last play report, I want to open by making two things absolutely clear:

Apocalypse World is a sicknasty game that deserves to get played way more often than it does, especially by people who are working and playing in a design lineage which has been forever altered by Meg and Vincent’s work.

Apocalypse World is a game done absolutely dirty by short-term play, a fact which came out way harder in this session than it did the first time round. We had a ton of fun, of course — but the fact that our play was capped at the 3-hour mark meant we barely scratched the surface of what this game can do. 

This time, I ran the game following Vincent Baker’s advice on running Apocalypse World in a con slot, which helped a lot — and still didn’t scratch the itch I have to play this game and only this game for the next hundred or so years. Most notably, we ended up dividing play into two micro-sessions — meaning we got to turn our bio-break into a narrative breather as well and flex some of the game’s “long-term” rules. I’ve broken my thoughts up here by session, which felt appropriate.

Session 1: A Desert Landscape

I had no idea where the session was going to start when we settled down to play — beyond the fact that I was going to open in media res with someone (the answer ended up being my first volunteer, @tormentedbyvisions) in a very bad spot. Details came quickly when we looked for them — a collapsing office tower and glimpses of a desert landscape out the broken windows, dotted with more towers in the distance. Goldman (The Savvyhead, any pronouns), an elderly survivor who, as it turned out, loved nothing more than telling people lies about the world as it was, is cornered on the second floor as a gang headed by a warlord named Dremmer picked their way through the rubble below. Cut forward a few seconds and we have Goldman leaping from a hole in the wall to land on the dune below as Dremmer’s gang fire wildly at a phantom drawn from the psychic maelstrom.

Meanwhile James (The Driver, he/him) and October (The Skinner, they/them) raced along the desert highway looking for their friend. A bad role lead to an ambush, a flipped car, and a surprisingly civil conversation with a would-be raider named Jackabacka — who James enlisted to get the car unstuck and then left unconscious in a ditch. Meeting back up with Goldman — a little battered from his fall from the building, but mostly fine — the game headed back to their home: the outskirts of an oil-refining city which sprang into existence at the moment we needed it, and never before. We wrapped on our first microsession by developing character Hx and nailing down who all these people were to each other.

What did we learn? For one, Apocalypse World is a great game to make shit up in. I talked at length in my last session write-up about the instruction to “barf forth apocalyptica” and how good getting really in the juice of a genre feels, but there’s more than just that happening here. Apocalypse World has a deeper philosophy of storytelling and play (one related, I think, to what I called “fluid mapmaking” in a recent article) which really relishes in moments of hesitation and consideration. There’s an approach to play which some games and players take where “good improv” is ultimately about maximal flexibility — where the ultimate end is to hide the fact that you’re “making things up” at all, and make the game world seem as fully realized as possible. Improv is just a way to get there — since we cannot possibly have prepped for every occasion, improv fills in the gaps. The hyper-performative role of the GM is never permitted to ask for a second to think or talk through some ideas out loud (in the way a non-GM player might) — their role is a kind of computer-referee (a “stable,” as opposed to fluid, mapmaker) who presents only the truth.

Apocalypse World bucks this trend in several ways: in the way moves prompt big narrative swings, in the suggestion you spend session one just following the characters around and seeing what happens, in the MC philosophy (to “always say what your prep demands,” yes, but also to “barf forth apocalyptica,” to “ask provocative questions and build on the answers,” and to “sometimes, disclaim decision-making), and also (and perhaps most importantly) in the “umms” and “hmms” which permeate the play examples. Apocalypse World is a game which is invested in modeling collaborative — really collaborative — play and which, as a result, never felt like a burden or a trap. It felt like my players and I were all together mapping and remapping a world with the tools and toys the Bakers had given us (and what lovely tools and toys they are) but never restricted by the thing we were trying to make. It felt like we were playing. 

On another note about the first session — and this isn’t textual to Apocalypse Worlds, but to Vincent’s con-running method, but — the practice of giving players something to do (in this case, filling out the details of their character sheets) while the narrative spotlight is on others is one of those design ideas that, once you’re exposed to it, you’ll never forget. This is something I’ve seen others to — most recently (and extensively) @jdragsky's Seven Part Pact is a game that does this over and over and over again — but it really hit me in this session what a lifesaver it is. Especially in online games, where losing focus and energy is so easy, giving people something to do which keeps them invested in the game (in the way, in person, just being in a space together might) is the kind of thing I’m going to start putting in all my games. 

Session 2: Lord Terry’s Gasland Refinery

Back from a brief break, I introduced the players to the threat map I’d designed while they were away. It was populated, mostly, by people we’d already talked a little bit about — the refinery where they lived, Dremmer’s Gang in the north, the landscape of the desert highway all around them — plus a couple of strange details thrown in for good measure (at the last minute, I decided to add the Red Priory, the setting of the last oneshot I ran, on the map in the far east — a fact which I could talk about for hours. People need to play Apocalypse World with me west marches style PLEASE). 

Jumping back into the swing of play wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped — the result, I think, of breaking up the session like we did meant we needed to do the usual beginning of session dipping our toes in the water again, but this time with a much sharper awareness of the ticking clock. Still, we got somewhere — thanks in no small part to the fun of just bopping around with these characters. It’s rare that you get to say “okay, now it’s a week later. What has that week looked like?” especially in the context of a oneshot. The cost of starting a session to the players — okay, what has your life looked like? how much barter are you losing to afford that? — quickly transformed what had been a pretty generic setting into a place that had some teeth. Barfing forth apocalyptica — and some yes-anding with the players — gave us Lord Terry, a feudal tyrant whose authority rests (shakily) on the loyalty of his retained soldiers and the terror of the serfs (including our players). 

Truthfully, we didn’t get particularly far in this session: some tinkering in Goldman’s workshop, an argument with Terry, a scouting mission which ended in a tense standoff with Jackabacka, and then a race back home as October washed Jackabacka’s blood off their knife and James bled out in the backseat. I don’t think the “plottiness” of the session got anywhere — but that has also maybe never felt like less of the point. The joy of our second session was absolutely frontloaded — in the moments of thinking about the community to which we (tangentially) belonged and the powers that be, there. 

Apocalypse World tells you it is best played in a long campaign — and I think this was the moment it was most clearly right. I would love to tell you what happens next to James, or whether Lord Terry is going to be dethroned, or if Dremmer’s really the threat he seems to be. None of those are questions I thought I’d be asking, going into this session — they’re questions the game gave me over the course of play. We had some hiccups, of course (combat is brutal when you don’t have a medic, and I wish, in retrospect, that I’d pushed players to read people more often), but on the whole Apocalypse World is a marvelous engine for generating a really collaborative story.

Which makes me ask, like I did last time — what the fuck happened? People talk a lot about PBTA as a philosophy and not just a mechanic — but I think at some point in history that philosophy seems to have fallen out and gotten slimmed down to "PBTA is when 2d6+"

This isn't to say there aren't good PBTA games being written now — we'll be playing some of them in this unit — but, GOD. There is shit in this game that, hearing it from downstream, you would never know about. People should know about it! You, right now, should know about it! Go and play Apocalypse World right now! and also forever!!

[wearepaladin]

Hey Paladin, I have a sort of dilemma that I would be interested to get your even-keel thoughts on.

Over the years of gaming with my group, we’ve been a lot of places, done at lot of things - saved people, messed things up, put down the villains, and won the day even if it hurt bitterly or roared gloriously by the end of it.

We’re playing through maybe our 5th or 6th campaign and while we’ve finally teetered over the edge that allows us to fight and put down evil with impunity, I’ve found myself drawn away from long-form campaign storytelling as of late. We played a few one-off sessions to trial run other classes and characters and it was brilliant. I loved the simplicity of it and the complete lack of moral or ethical ambiguity in our tasks. Things were straightforward and it felt like nobody’s actions required justification amongst ourselves or in the story.

Contrasting with our campaigns, I’ve found that it’s incredibly tiring putting so much stock in the moral and ethical dilemmas of our shared storytelling as of late and I often find myself missing the simple plug and play quests that don’t leave us wondering for weeks or even months if we made the right choices or some of us had the right to end certain villains or do certain things. It feels like I’m stuck holding onto events and actions others and even myself have made for long periods of time afterwards. I find myself pulled back to realize that I’m putting a lot of attention and energy into stories and situations that frankly never actually happened and that detract from my enjoyment of the gaming experience.

I worry I’m slipping away from tabletop gaming with my closest friends and I guess I’d just like some ideas or reassurance. I’m hoping there’s some way to push through this phase and still maintain what we’ve built without walking away from the hobby or our time together for a while, although perhaps a break is what I need…

As always, your careful approach to things is greatly appreciated in advance. All the best.

I think, after taking the day to ponder this, is that ultimately, a game is a game, and that friendship can survive its absence or change. I value tabletop for strength of storytelling and inspiration, and the joy these things build for me, but they aren’t my life, and they aren’t my friends. They are a thing we enjoy but their absence wouldn’t detract from our companionship.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that wanting to do things differently or taking a break isn’t going take away all the time spent with people who enjoyed your company. You might rediscover your interests later on or find something utterly new, but the friends you make will still love you in the time they know you and the time after. Don’t feel ashamed for being ready to change.