#but now for the first time in my life I'm like. free of it. I didnt even know it was possible... and I'm so sad how much I've lost out on

[russellsppttemplates]

Bridging the Gap (Lando Norris)

A look into the Norris family summer vacation

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity! For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is 4 years older than Lando, media scrutiny

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

The low hum of the television filled the cozy apartment as you and Lando sat on the sofa, nestled comfortably under a soft blanket as his hands absentmindedly traced patterns on your thigh. Lately, it was one of your favorite pastimes - catching up on a show after a long week and simply enjoying each other's presence without having the world around you.

Life with Lando was unexpectedly delightful. His infectious laughter and zest for life were contagious, and even the most mundane days seemed brighter with him around, no matter how many clients you had that day or how much reading you had to do before their next sessions. At the beginning, you couldn't wrap your head around how the way your routines still laced together despite the seemingly different responsibilities, but you cherished the balance you shared.

"Do you have a busy day tomorrow?", your boyfriend asked.

"I have 8 clients, as two of them already cancelled because they're sick, but I managed to adjust the schedule and hopefully I have some time to go to the bank and see about my mortgage payments", you said.

"And in that rearranged schedule, is there a possibility of you spending the night here so we can wake up together before you go be a boss lady?", he wondered as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, softly kissing the skin there.

"I have to be in the office at before 10 am, Lan, I can't have a lie in", you reasoned.

"I have to be up at 7 am to go on a run with Jon, so neither can I", he smirked, knowing he had all the reasons to convince you to stay, "we can have some breakfast together before you leave me".

"I guess I have time to pop home, change and get to work on time", you reasoned, agreeing with his plans.

"I'm glad you think that because my next step was going to kidnap you for the night - I'm talking locking the doors and throwing away the keys", Lando spoke.

Your laughs rubbled as Lando squeezed you tighter against him, basking in the warm feeling on his chest of having you for the rest of the night.

.

A few weeks later, Lando told you Max and Pietra would be in Monaco for a week since they hadn't spent some time together in a while.

"Do you know how your week is going to be? In terms of your schedule I mean", Lando mused, holding your waist as you stirred the food in the pot.

"I had some people move around from their usual schedule, so the weekdays end late but I don't have many appointments on Friday and I have Saturday off", you spoke.

"That's good, means we can spend a nice long weekend together", Lando smiled, kissing your shoulder before resting his chin there, "I'm not sure of all the plans yet but it’ll be fun! And they’re eager to meet you", he grinned, optimism lighting up his face.

"I'm excited to meet them too", you spoke, despite the one looming shadow. The thought of meeting Lando’s close-knit circle always brought a tinge of anxiety with it. His friends were used to seeing him as the carefree poster child of single life - never missing a party or the chance to get a little drunk. Hell, the idea that Lando would rather stay in on a Friday night, watching his girlfriend cook them dinner after spending the afternoon waiting for her to finish her online sessions would baffle Max and all of his friends.

And though Lando never seemed to mind, the idea of them questioning your relationship because of your age gnawed at your insecurity. Even when you were younger, the party scene wasn't your thing and as the years passed, it certainly didn't become it. You were fine with Lando enjoying himself whenever he wanted to and never once objected to that, but feared that his friends would question it.

"There's something on your mind, I can tell that", Lando spoke softly, "would you like to share it with me?".

"It's just...", you tried, knowing he would be able to tell you were lying and knowing that sharing this with him could ease your fears.

"Doesn't have to sound pretty or polished, I just want to know what is on your head", he encouraged softly.

"Maybe they won't want to spend time with me? They're coming here to see you and spend time with you, and there's always the possibility that they might now want to spend time with me", you let it out.

"Why do you think that?", he continued softly.

"Because I'm not hard-core, adrenaline seeking fun!", you added.

"Lovie, the plans we have are just enough fun for everyone, I didn't to do anything too hard-core and they don't either, so we'll be good and have plenty of fun together, yeah?", Lando assured, turning you around and kissing your forehead.

"You are starting to have a way with words", you mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin in such a protective manner, like no harm in the world could get to you if he was near.

"I catch on a thing or two you say", your boyfriend mumbled, kissing your lips slowly.

"I have to take my lunch to the office tomorrow, I don't have time to come home", you mumbled more to yourself than anything, taking a tupperware box from the cupboards so you wouldn't end up without your packed lunch.

"Pack two of them and I'll meet you in the office", Lando said like it was nothing.

"Sorry, what?", you asked again, afraid you had misheard him.

"You can pack two of them to go and I'll meet you for lunch tomorrow so you don't eat lunch all alone", Lando suggested.

"You don't have to", you reasoned.

"I know I don't, but I want to", Lando smiled, "the next couple of days are going to be busy for me and I need to fill up on time with you so my heart won't miss you as much".

He was ever the charmer and you still blushed at his words, not used to this no matter how many times he did it.

"Fine, but you can't mess up the crayons this time! You left one of them on the floor and I saw my life flash before my eyes when I stepped on it and nearly fell! No funny business in my office!", you joked.

"Does that mean we can't play Jenga and talk about my feelings? How dare you do that to me, woman?", Lando dramatised.

.

The first night of the week Max and Pietra would be spending in Monaco arrived quickly, and while the full day of sessions certainly kept your mind away from all of it, you found yourself at the door of your boyfriend's apartment waiting for him to get it.

"Hello, beautiful", Lando greeted as soon as he saw you, kissing your lips before letting you in, "let me take these", he said as he grabbed your bag and your coat.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm a bit late but the last session ran a bit longer than I expexted", you apologised, smoothing over your jeans and checking how you looked in the mirror - after the day you had, you couldn't expect much but you were pleasantly surprised that your hair was still bouncy and forgoing makeup was probably a good idea because you would have smudged it by now.

"You look beautiful as always, Y/N", Lando grabbed your attention, "and don't worry, take out is late too so you don't need to feel bad", he assured, guiding you with him to the living room where the noise was coming from.

"Guys, this is Y/N", Lando announced as they both welcomed you warmly, quickly asking you questions and letting you join in, preparing a drink for you.

"I'm usually heavy handed, but this one is proper, Y/N", he offered you before you took a sip, "I can fix a different one though!".

"It's good, it's good - hits the spot very nicely", you smiled, taking another sip before engaging in conversation.

When the food arrived, Lando asked you to join him in the kitchen to help him plate everything up and bring it to the dining table, opting to use the door closest to it so it would be easier.

As you crossed rhe hallway, you overheard Max and Pietra talking.

“Do you think it works?”, Pietra asked, “I mean, they seem happy, but Lando’s… well, Lando".

Max shrugged, “He’s crazy about her. Age doesn’t matter, does it? But yeah, never thought he’d settle, at least not like this".

You felt a small knot form in your stomach, but before you could dwell on it, Lando appeared at your side, his familiar warmth instantly reassuring as he placed his hand on the small of your back, “You alright?” he asked, noticing the brief flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

“Yeah", you smiled, deciding in that moment that the security you had together was worth navigating any doubts from others.

As the evening continued, you noticed Max and P exchanging skeptical glances across the table - they're were known for their protective nature over Lando, Max is his bestfriend, so they are particularly wary of anyone close to their beloved friend.

Over the clinking of silverware and hum of conversations, Max finally spoke up, his tone casual but inquisitive, "so, how’s it really going, being with a guy who practically lives on a racetrack?”.

You felt Lando's reassuring nudge beneath the table, prompting you to respond with honesty, "It's definitely something else. Racing is such a demanding world, but we find balance by making time for each other away from it all. So far, it has worked out well".

P leaned back, observing the dynamic between the you, "there must be a lot of pressure, especially with so many eyes watching your every move".

Lando chimed in before you could respond, "Y/N handles it like a champ. Honestly, she’s the calm in my storm", he said, his eyes filled with admiration for you. There wasn't a day that you didn't handle it gracefully, whether it was a fan wanting to take a photo or a reporter wanting to know more than you allowed.

Max and P exchanged another look, this time softer and less guarded - little by little, they began to see what Lando meant by his earlier assurance that you kept him grounded.

As dinner progressed, the conversation turned to shared stories, with Lando guiding the discussion to include moments from your relationship - your mutual love for travel, how you introduced him to the joy of quiet moments, and even shared a humorous tale of your early dates, laughter erupting when he recounted an incident involving mistaking your office with the one next to yours, Lando accidentally entering the lawyer's waiting room with a massive bouquet of flowers and passes to golf.

Max's initial skepticism gradually melted away as he watched you interact. Lando's attentiveness was unmistakable - how he would lean in to catch your words over the din of conversations, or how his eyes crinkled in genuine amusement at your stories. He noticed how effortless and natural your connection seemed, a seamless blend of companionship and partnership.

By the time dessert came around, Pietra seemed convinced, "Alright, alright. I can see what everyone’s been talking about. You both really seem to understand each other in a way that's rare".

"You say that like we don't!", Max complained.

"Shut it, Max, you know what I mean", she mumbled.

Feeling the warmth of acceptance flood the room, Lando laid his hand over yours on the table, grinning with relief and contentment, "Told you she was amazing,” he said, playfully raising his eyebrows.

Max chuckled, raising his glass, "Okay, I admit defeat, I'm not sure we are like this!".

It was in that moment that you realized, the whispers of doubt that had once lingered were no match for the clarity of Lando’s affection. Together, you were creating a narrative all your own, one that defied stereotypes and embraced your unique bond.

.

As the days passed after the gathering, the glow of being surrounded by Lando’s friends began to fade, replaced by the nagging unease that had settled in your mind. You found yourself replaying the conversations from that night, the laughter, the glances, and especially Max's comment, which you still couldn’t quite shake off despite the way the night ended.

One evening, after a long day at work, filled with sessions and schedule arrangements thanks to the flu season, you sat on the sofa, scrolling through social media.

Your heart sank as you stumbled upon a headline featuring Lando. The article speculated about his relationships and how he was often deemed the ultimate bachelor, writing that they believed he wasn't about to change his ways. The more you read, the harder it became to ignore your worries.

Later that night, Lando arrived from his photoshoot, his laughter echoing as he stepped through you door. He instantly brightened the room with his presence, but you struggled to muster so much as a smile.

“Hey! Long day?”, he asked, tilting his head slightly, concern etched across his features as he took a good look at you.

“Just tired", you replied with a half truth. As you settled down, you felt the weight of the unspoken words pressing on your chest, knowing that sooner or later they would find their way out.

“Is everything okay?”, Lando probed, sensing the shift in your mood. Even when you had a bad day, the reception he got wasn't like this.

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling, Do you ever think about what people say… about us?”.

Lando paused, confusion washing over his face, "What do you mean?”.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, looking down, "Like, the way the media talks about you. Or how your friends might see us. What if they don’t accept me? They might think I’m not right for you… for your image".

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, “Why would you think that?”.

“Because it’s true!”, you almost spat, frustration bubbling to the surface, "You’re this young, popular and successful Formula One driver, and I’m just… well, me. What if they think I’m just an older woman trying to latch onto your fame? What if they don’t see how happy we are?”.

“Stop it", he said gently, but firmly, “you’re not ‘just’ anything, or someone. You’re incredible, and I’m with you because I want to be. Age is just a number and it doesn’t define how meaningful our relationship is, not to me and it shouldn't be to anyone".

But your doubts resurfaced, relentless as you continued with your voice rising with each word, “But what if your family doesn’t feel the same? What if they think I’m not good enough for their sweet boy? I just… I can't help but overthink it. I love you, and I’m terrified of losing you".

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his and grounding you with his touch, something you explained to him early on that worked wonders for you, “I can’t control what others think, but my family will see how happy you make me. They care about my happiness, not just some number or date".

“But what if they don’t?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. Over the years, you could remember the times where you told patients exactly that, that their mind was looking for survival so that's where it took them.

“They will!", Lando stated, his grip tightening slightly, “Look, it’s not going to be like this forever. People talk, and yes, media can be ruthless, but what matters is how we feel about each other. And I feel lucky to have you in my life. Please trust that, my love".

You looked for reassurance in his eyes as slowly his words began to soothe the turmoil, but the fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface.

“I just don’t want to complicate things for you", you said softly.

Lando brushed his fingers against your cheek, a gentle smile breaking through your anxiety, "you’re not complicating things. You’re adding to my life in a way I never knew I needed. Can we just take this one step at a time together?”.

Lando pulled you into a warm embrace, and for a moment, the weight on your heart lightened. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself to stay in the moment and be there.

“I’ll try", you finally spoke against his shoulder, feeling comfort in his unwavering support.

“I promise I'm not going anywhere", he whispered back, wrapping you tighter in his arms, "we’re in this together".

"Thank you", you mumbled, pecking his lips softly.

"You don't ever need to thank me, not for stuff like this or anything else, we're in this together, lovie", Lando kissed your forehead, "besides, if you ever dump me, I'll have to find a good psychologist to help me through it and you're the best one, so that's another valid point for us to stay together", he chuckled, wanting to get a giggle out of you.

Smiling when he succeeded, Lando squeezed you tighter against him, "never doubt that we were meant to be, Y/N, never".

[blog-o-meter]

sweetdreams - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: Aching for some release, Nicholas finds himself browsing a cam site and stops dead when he recognizes a familiar bedroom on one of the thumbnails.

warnings: 18+, camgirl, masturbation, exhibitionism

required listening: n/a

word count: 6,195

a/n: eek, I've been sitting on this one for a bit - I'm not even sure why. but I like it, it was fun to write LMAO also rip TikTok. I deleted the app over a year ago bc it destroyed my brain but ik lots of ppl still love that app so rip I guess. anyway lmk if you liked this one! I have a few more fics but idkkkk

reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!

The glow of my laptop screen on the bed illuminated the cozy pale purple walls of my bedroom. The fairy lights hanging along the fabric draping the backside of my bed added a soft warmth to the otherwise dimly lit space with a few tapered candles here and there on my nightstand and dresser to set the mood. I adjusted the camera perched on the tripod next to my desk, angling it toward my bed where the sheets were already perfectly rumpled by design.

I didn't do it because I needed the money. I always paid my bills on time — rent, utilities, student loans, cellphone, gas, insurance, and groceries — but my entire paycheck would go to just that. And no matter how much I tried to break up my checks or stagger payment dates, the same thing always happened: I never had enough money to splurge on myself. I wanted the money. So bad.

There were so many things I wanted to buy for myself, so many trips and concerts and restaurants I wanted to be able to experience, but I never could, not unless I saved up the little leftover money I’d have for myself for months and months at a time just to be able to accompany my friends to a mid-scale restaurant. It was a little embarrassing for me, frankly. I just wanted to be able to be with them during all those moments, not sitting at home bored with incredible FOMO.

That’s why I decided to start camming on the side.

I didn’t do it frequently, just when I anticipated buying something I had been wanting — like a nice pair of boots or some furniture — or wanted to go out with friends, and it wasn’t an easy decision for me to make either. I spent close to a year mulling it over, really weighing my options, and honestly, it was the only one I was comfortable enough to explore, surprisingly.

I mean, I masturbated anyway. It was in the privacy of my room with no audience, sure, but why do something for free when you could be making some money out of it? And all I had to do to hide my identity was get a second bank account, move all of the identifying pictures out of the way, buy myself a nice, sexy mask that obscured a majority of my face, and stream on an out-of-the-way cam site I was sure most of the people in my life would not be privy to.

At first, it was incredibly intimidating. My sex life was borderline nonexistent, and I was basically about to expose myself to strangers on the internet. I could barely speak during my first stream, but over time I became more comfortable with my movements and my voice — almost confident, even. But that didn’t mean I still didn’t get nervous before every stream, like now.

As I laid on my bed and pulled the black lace mask over my face, I let out a slow, steadying breath, fingers hovering over the trackpad of my laptop, the cursor teasing the ‘Go Live’ button. And then I clicked it. 

sweetdream is live.

On the other side of town, Nicholas came home exhausted, but most of all frustrated. Shooting had been absolutely brutal this week, and the constant tension in his body was driving him insane. It didn’t help that he barely had any time to go out with his friends or even entertain the girls in his DMs and maybe hook up with one of them to blow off some steam.

But he didn’t want to deal with any of that right now. He was just so exhausted; how could he possibly have the energy to even pretend to be interested in whatever conversation his friends or those girls had to say? He wanted something here, something now.

Nicholas tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and kicked off his shoes, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the fridge and reached in for a nice, cold beer before retreating to his room. The familiar solitude of his apartment felt suffocating tonight, the silence amplifying the ache in his chest and the tension coiling low in his stomach. He threw himself onto his bed, letting out a quiet groan as he reached for his laptop on the nightstand and set down his beer with a dull thud.

He hadn’t forayed into the world of internet porn in over month, but he did it like clockwork — reaching into his nightstand drawer for his wired headphones and sticking them into his MacBook’s audio jack before carefully placing the laptop over his thighs and waking it to life.

Nicholas’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as his thumb rubbed over the trackpad, opening a private window and typing in all of the familiar site names — PornHub, Xhamster, XVideos, hell, even XNXX. He scrolled for a bit on each, hoping at least one video might catch his attention and fully awaken his half-hard cock, but none of them were hitting the way he wanted — needed — tonight.

They all seemed too polished, now. Way too much makeup and studio lights. Makeup and studio lights was all he worked with on set, and the last thing he wanted was to jerk off to work. Frustrated, he closed the tabs one by one. He needed something different — something raw, something real.

He didn’t visit cam sites often, but when he did, they delivered exactly what he was looking for. Something authentic. So, without any hesitation, he clicked through his bookmarks and clicked the out-of-the-way cam site he had come across months and months ago deep in the pages of Google.

Nicholas leaned back against the headboard, the familiar homepage of the cam site loading in front of him, colorful and bright and borderline blinding, the screen illuminating his face and reflecting off his wooden headboard. A variety of thumbnails greeted him, showing live streams in progress. Women of all shapes and sizes, their expressions ranging from coy to confident, teasing the camera.

He scrolled lazily past the wall of endless thumbnails, picking up his beer and taking a lazy swig as he sifted through, trying to find someone who caught his eye. Most were the same: over-the-top angles, exaggerated expressions. They all felt…off. Too staged. Too fake. They all blurred together, until one made him stop dead in his tracks.

His thumb froze mid-scroll, and he nearly choked on his beer, setting the bottle back down on his nightstand as he stared at the screen, his eyebrows furrowed at the tiny square. His cursor hovered over the thumbnail, magnifying it just a smidge.

The thumbnail was simple — cozy lighting, a tidy bedroom with a familiar-looking duvet cover, and a girl wearing a delicate pink satin lingerie set, her face obscured by a lace mask that looked like it had been plucked right out of a Venetian mask shop during Carnival. The room in the background had pale lavender walls, warm fairy lights adorning the wall where the headboard of the bed would be, and candles flickering in the background. It was all familiar. Way too familiar.

“No fucking way,” he muttered under his breath, the words rumbling at the back of his throat.

He leaned closer to the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers twitched over the trackpad before he clicked, the stream loading painfully slow as the rainbow wheel spun. He held his breath, his entire body tense as he waited for the image to appear.

And when it did, his stomach dropped.

It was her.

It was me.

The shy, sweet, (Y/N) he’d known for years. The girl who blushed when someone so much as mentioned a sex scene in a movie. The same girl who stumbled over her words anytime he called me ‘baby’ in that teasing tone he so loved to use. The girl that hasn’t been on so much as a real date in the time he’s known her.

I was sitting there on his screen, laying on my side and propping myself up by the elbow, dressed in soft pink satin lingerie, my body glowing under the warm light of my bedroom as I read chat. 

Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest that he was certain it would burst. His eyes were glued to the screen, unwilling — or unable — to look away. He leaned in closer, the reality of what he was seeing crashing into him like a freight train.

My fingers lightly traced the satin straps of my bra, my voice soft as I spoke to the camera. The black lace mask obscured the top half of my face, but there was no mistaking it — it was me. My voice, my laugh, my nervous little gestures.

“My day was fine; thank you for asking,” I sheepishly smiled as I read a comment from chat, my finger tracing down to my leg, idly trailing up and down my hip, my voice thrumming through Nicholas’s headphones loud and clear.

“What the fuck,” Nicholas whispered to himself, his hand clenching into a fist against his thigh. He wasn’t half-hard anymore; he was hard as a fucking rock.

The chat on my screen lit up with messages, dozens of anonymous names firing off compliments, tips, and lewd suggestions. Nicholas’s stomach churned, a mix of guilt, confusion, and something darker coiling low in his gut. 

He should have closed the tab — hell, he should’ve slammed the laptop shut and never spoken of this to anyone — but he didn’t. Instead, he turned up the volume and watched.

Nicholas’s mind raced as he stared at the screen, unable to tear his eyes away. He should’ve stopped. Should’ve closed the tab. Should’ve shoved the laptop away. Hell, throw it across the room if that’s what it took to stop watching. But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand drifted lower, instinct overriding logic as his cock strained painfully against the fabric of his sweatpants.

I shifted on the bed, sitting back on my heels, the delicate pink satin stretching over my body as I leaned closer to the camera. My fingers brushed the lace of my mask before trailing down to the straps of my bra, teasing the edge.

“Let’s see,” I murmured, scanning the chat, my voice carrying a nervous lilt. “You want me to take my time tonight, huh?”

The chat box on my screen lit up with requests and donations, the little dings echoing faintly in the background. I leaned forward, my cleavage filling the frame as I adjusted the camera slightly.

“Thank you for the tip, Anonymous,” I said shyly, a smile tugging at my lips.

Nicholas’s chest tightened as his cock stirred in his jeans. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The idea of me, his quiet, unassuming friend, doing something like this was utterly surreal, utterly impossible. It was impossibly hot.

Johnny88 donated $100: take off ur bra

The moment the donation notification lit up the chat, Nicholas’s jaw clenched. His hand froze mid-motion, hovering over the waistband of his sweatpants.

$100.

The chat was eating it up, emojis flooding the stream, accompanied by crude, explicit comments urging me to follow through. I hesitated for a moment, looking at the message on my laptop screen, my expression shy but playful.

“Wow… Thank you, Johnny88,” I murmured, my voice soft but steady, betraying a nervous edge. “Guess I don’t want to disappoint, huh?”

Nicholas’s breathing deepened, his cock aching as he watched me slowly slide the straps of my bra off my shoulders, my fingers trembling slightly as they trailed over my skin. I glanced at the chat again, clearly gauging my audience’s reaction.

His stomach churned with something primal, a mix of possessiveness and desire that made his head spin. He wanted to hate himself for watching, for indulging in this, but the truth was, he was riveted. Every little movement, every shy smile, every flicker of hesitation only made it worse. And then my hands reached around my back to undo the clasp and the bra came off.

Nicholas groaned under his breath as the satin slid down my arms, revealing my bare chest to the camera. My hands instinctively moved to cover myself at first, but then, slowly, I let them drop, exposing myself completely.

I bit my lip, my hand beginning to knead at my breast, a little whimper escaping my lips as I pinched my hard nipple. “Is this what you wanted?” I asked, almost teasingly.

Nicholas’s breathing hitched, his hand clenching into a fist against the mattress as his other slowly moved to hook itself around his waistband. The sound of my voice, soft and teasing, sent a jolt straight through him. He felt like the biggest fucking pervert alive, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to.

My fingers teased the hem of my panties, my hand brushing over the top of my center as I sat on my knees in front of the camera, waiting for a little more donations to roll in before deciding to pull them off. 

Nicholas’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted his hips up slightly to pull down his sweatpants along with his Nike briefs to free himself, his throbbing erection springing out. He hated himself for how hard he was, for the way his body reacted to every soft, breathy sound I made, but god, he was transfixed, his eyes locked on the screen as I teased the camera, my fingers toying with the waistband of my panties.

The sound of a new donation chimed through the speakers. Another request. My eyes flicked to the laptop screen, and a shy smile curled on my lips as I read the message aloud.

“Anonymous tipped $100. Hmm…” I hesitated, my voice dropping to a near whisper. “Panties off, huh?”

Nicholas’s jaw clenched as I kneeled in front of the camera, my chest moving out of the top of the frame as the image of my panties filled the screen. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and tugged them down just enough to tease. My movements were deliberate, slow, and sensual, and Nicholas’s hand moved instinctively to wrap his pulsing length.

I slipped the panties lower, finally revealing myself completely to the camera. I maneuvered myself on the bed to pull my underwear out from under my feet before dangling it in front of the camera to show my viewers the large damp spot, quietly giggling. “God, look how wet I am already,” I whispered, more to myself than to my audience.

The chat exploded with comments. Compliments, pleas, and donations rolled in, but Nicholas barely registered them. He groaned, his hand tightening around his cock as he watched me. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with arousal as he started to stroke himself, his eyes fluttering shut before opening again. The sight of me, naked and confident, teasing the camera with that shy giggle, had him utterly captivated.

I reached for something out of frame, my trustee delicate pale pink rabbit vibrator, and settled back on the bed, glancing at the camera with a shy, almost apologetic smile. “I thought I’d… try something new tonight,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to make his cock ache.

Nicholas couldn’t help the groan that rumbled low in his throat as he watched me turn the vibrator over in my hands, inspecting it like it was new to me, even though I knew exactly what I was doing. Every movement was calculated to tease, to entice, and fuck, it was working.

His strokes quickened as I brought the toy closer to my mouth, running my tongue over the tip before sucking it gently. His eyes darkened, his breathing heavy as he imagined those soft lips of mine wrapped around him instead.

Love69 donated $50: wish that was me

“Fuck off,” Nicholas gritted his teeth at the donation, his jaw tightening as his hand worked his cock faster, the sight of me teasing the camera sending a wave of heat straight through him. The jealousy coiled low in his gut as the chat lit up with messages, strangers clamoring for my attention, showering me with tips and crude remarks.

The donation pulled a soft, breathy laugh from my lips, and I tilted my head, looking directly at the camera. “Oh, do you?” I murmured, my voice dripping with a mix of innocence and teasing. I ran my tongue along the length of the vibrator again, swirling it slowly before pulling it away, letting it hover just above my lips. “Sorry, Love. I’m imagining someone else.”

Nicholas froze, his hand gripping his cock mid-stroke as the words left my lips. The soft, teasing tone in my voice sent a shiver through his entire body, but it was the words themselves that hit him like a truck. The idea of me thinking about someone else while putting on this show, teasing, and playing for the camera — it was both maddening and painfully arousing.

His jaw clenched, and a low, guttural sound rumbled from his throat as he stroked himself harder, his frustration and desire tangling into something almost primal.

Who the fuck was I imagining?

The thought shouldn’t have mattered. This was a fantasy, an act. I was catering to an audience of strangers, faceless men who threw money at me for a show. But the way I said it — the soft lilt in my voice, the way I bit my lip, my eyes flicking to the camera with a hint of mischief — felt too real. It felt personal.

With his free hand, Nicholas reached into the front pocket of his sweatpants, fumbling to pull out his wallet. “Let’s make you talk, baby,” he whispered to himself as he pulled out his debit card with one hand, placing it between his teeth as he tossed his wallet aside.

Nicholas’s fingers trembled as he typed in his card information, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He’d never done this before — never donated, never left any comments in chats, never tried to interact with anyone on these sites — but tonight was different. I was different. He needed to know. He needed to push.

His cursor hovered over the donation button for a moment before he clicked it, his heart pounding in his chest as he typed out his message. It wasn’t flashy or crude like the others; it was pointed, deliberate. He hit send.

NC17 donated $50: Who are you imagining, baby?

The donation notification popped up on my screen, and I froze, my eyes widening slightly behind the lace mask. I could feel the flush on my neck creep to my cheeks. Nicholas smirked, his hand wrapping around his cock again as he watched me squirm. He could tell I was thrown off, that the question had hit a little too close to home. The way I hesitated, the slight nervous laugh — it only made him harder.

I shifted on the bed, the rabbit vibrator still in my hand as I trailed it over my nipple, glancing at the chat hesitantly. “NC17, thank you,” I smiled nervously, a tiny moan escaping my lips as the vibrator worked the tip of my nipple on a low setting before dragging it down my stomach, then between my legs. “That’s a secret,” I replied breathily before smiling softly, “Funny username, though,” my voice had softened, carrying a teasing edge, but Nicholas caught the crack in it.

Nicholas’s smirk deepened, his hand moving faster along his length as he watched me squirm on screen. That crack in my voice wasn’t just from the teasing act — I  was flustered, genuinely caught off guard, and that knowledge sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

Funny username, huh? Of course, I wouldn’t recognize it. But he’d made me pause.

Nicholas’s free hand hovered over the keyboard again. His initial hesitation was gone now, replaced with something more daring, more possessive. He wanted to push further, wanted to see just how much I would let slip under the guise of anonymity.

NC17 donated $100: Spread those legs wider, baby. Does he know you think about him?

I bit my lip at the donation, my cheeks boiling hot as I obliged the viewer’s request. I spread my legs at the knees, giving the camera a perfect view of my my self. Nicholas’s breath hitched as he watched her glistening folds on full display. I let out a soft, shaky moan as I spread myself open with one hand and led the vibrator to my clit with the other. “No, he doesn’t,” I moaned as my eyes fluttered shut, my back arching against the pillows.

Nicholas groaned audibly at the sound of my voice vibrating in his ears, his hand gripping his cock with a newfound intensity as the words left my mouth. The admission echoed in his head, feeding the dark coil of desire and jealousy tightening in his chest. His strokes quickened as he watched me writhe on the screen, the vibrator pressed against my swollen clit as I let out a series of soft, breathy moans.

The possessiveness inside him surged. He couldn’t stop himself now, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way my body moved, from the way I responded to the toy teasing me mercilessly. His free hand hovered over the keyboard, his need to push me further overriding any guilt or hesitation he might have felt.

NC17 donated $100: do you know him?

I read the donation but threw my head back in pleasure before I could answer, audibly moaning at the sensation of the vibrator circling my entrance while my free hand kneaded at my breast. “Uh-huh,” I whimpered.

ilike2fuck: stretch yourself out

cheekybasstard: god ur so perfect

m1lfluvr: fuuuck

Nicholas’s breath caught as he saw me falter, my body arching on the bed as I moaned in response to the chat’s demands. His grip tightened on himself, his strokes growing more erratic as he watched the screen. The way I answered his question, breathless and soft, set his mind ablaze. The way I whimpered, the way I let the vibrator tease me, was driving him insane. He wasn’t just watching now — he was consuming me, feeding on every sound, every movement.

My hands stilled for a moment, and I reached off-screen, grabbing a small bottle of lube from my nightstand. The slick sound of it being poured into my hand sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through Nicholas’s body, his cock twitching in his hand as he watched me stroke the vibrator with the jelly. “Not that I need it, but it never hurts,” I spoke quietly as I watched my hand spread the jelly over my cute toy.

“Shit,” Nicholas groaned through gritted teeth, his thumb brushing over the swollen head of his cock with every slick stroke.

His mind was racing, trying to piece my answer together. His stomach twisted with a mix of jealousy, desire, and something dangerously close to satisfaction. I knew him, whoever he was. Was it someone I worked with? Someone in our mutual circle? Or — god forbid — someone I was secretly seeing? The idea made his grip tighten, his strokes becoming rougher as his possessiveness took over.

His fingers flew over the keyboard, barely giving himself a moment to think.

NC17 donated $100: Tell me about him.

I leaned back against the pillows as I silently read his donation, the vibrator gliding slowly over my folds before dipping inside, my moan trembling and raw. “Fuck,” I whimpered, throwing my head back as my mouth fell open. “He’s… so fucking hot,” I breathed through my moans, inserting the entire vibrator into myself slowly before taking it out again and repeating the process. “God, so hot.”

The chat erupted in a flurry of commands and compliments, the dings of donations coming in a constant rhythm.

Nicholas’s jaw clenched as I moaned those words, his strokes faltering for a second before he tightened his grip and picked up his pace.

So fucking hot.

The way I said it, the way my voice cracked and my body arched on the screen, sent a surge of heat through him. But the thought of who I was talking about — the mystery man in my head — had his chest tightening with jealousy.

“Not good enough,” Nicholas muttered to himself, his eyes darkening as he watched me keep my answers vague.

His hand paused on his cock as he stared at the screen, his breathing heavy. His free hand hovered over the keyboard, typing furiously before sending another donation.

NC17 donated $150: What does he do to make you so wet?

Johnny88 donated $100: fuck yourself from behind

Nicholas’s jaw was tight as his donation slid to the top of the chat in bold. He watched my lips curl into a small smile, my cheeks flushing as I rolled myself over on my knees, lifting my hips in the air while I rested my face on the pillows, back arched to the max. I angled my head to look back over my shoulder to keep reading chat while I guided my vibrator under me, giving the camera the most salacious angle as I continued working myself.

“He’s so fucking cocky,” I whimpered, the words spilling from my lips as the toy disappeared inside me. “And he always calls me ‘baby.’”

Nicholas’s head fell back against the headboard at my confession, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him as he watched me. It was him. I was talking about him. And the realization sent a jolt of primal desire coursing through his body.

His strokes grew faster, more desperate, as I buried the vibrator inside me, my body trembling slightly with the sensation. My moans started to grow louder, more uninhibited. I whimpered, my free hand gripping the sheets as I teetered on the edge. “Shit,” I gasped, my body arching as I pushed the vibrator even deeper, the pleasure overwhelming. “Yes, yes—oh, fuck. Right there.”

Nicholas clenched his jaw, his strokes matching the rhythm of my movements on screen. His chest heaved, his mind consumed by the image of me — his sweet, shy friend — coming apart in front of him. Every moan, every gasp, every broken cry of pleasure drove him closer to the edge.

“God— sh—,” he groaned under his breath, his hand tightening around his dick. He muttered endless curses under his breath as I thrusted the vibrator in and out, my glistening slickness catching the light from my laptop and candles just perfectly. He couldn’t stop. Not now.

On screen, my body tensed, my back arching as the vibrator brought me closer and closer to release. “God, yes,” I whimpered, my voice trembling. “He’s so—fuck—so perfect.”

Nicholas’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening as he leaned closer to the screen, his other hand trembling as he typed another message, desperate to push me further.

NC17 donated $200: Tell me how you want him, baby.

The donation notification flashed on the screen, bold and demanding. My breath hitched audibly, my gaze flicking to the chat. My cheeks flushed behind the mask, my lips parting as if to speak, but the words caught in my throat.

The chat exploded with messages, urging me to answer, but Nicholas only cared about one thing — my reaction. He could see the hesitation, the nervous flicker in my expression as I glanced at the camera. And then, finally, I spoke.

“I want him everywhere,” I whispered, my voice breathy and raw. My free hand trembled as it gripped the sheets tighter. “I want him to kiss me, touch me, take control… I want him to fuck me so hard I forget my own name.”

Nicholas let out a low, guttural groan, his hips bucking into his hand as my words pushed him to the brink. I whimpered on screen, my body trembling as the vibrator worked me relentlessly. “Yes,” I gasped, my voice breaking as I teetered on the edge. “Fuck—I’m all his. Only his. S-so close,” I muffled into the pillows.

Nicholas’s strokes grew frantic, his breathing ragged as he felt himself losing control. He couldn’t stop now, not when I was so close, not when the thought of being the one to make me fall apart consumed him.

NC17 donated $500: say his name when you finish and I’ll double it

My moans hitched at the sight of the donation flashing across the screen. My chest heaved as I pressed the vibrator even harder against myself, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body. The chat went wild, messages flooding in, but all I could focus on was that one donation — that one command.

Say his name.

My fingers trembled, my grip on the toy faltering for a moment as I let out a shaky breath. My body burned with pleasure, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts, and yet, all of them led back to him. My lips parted, but no sound came out at first. The knot in my stomach tightened, my thighs quivering as I teetered on the edge of release.

Nicholas’s hand froze mid-stroke, his entire body tense and his cock pulsing — begging for friction — as he waited. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. He leaned closer to the screen, his grip on himself almost painful as he hung on to my every movement, every sound.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered under his breath, continuing to stroke himself slowly as he leaned back against the pillows. “Say it. Say my fucking name. I know you can do it.”

My entire body trembled, the heat building inside me threatening to consume every last thought in my mind. The chat blurred in my peripheral vision as my head fell back, a low, guttural moan escaping my lips. The vibrator pulsed against my clit, my hips moving in time with its rhythm as I teetered dangerously close to the edge.

Nicholas’s name burned on the tip of my tongue, the demand in the donation rattling around in my head. The promise of doubling the already insane amount made my breath hitch, but it wasn’t just about the money — it was him. His name. The thought of saying it out loud while I came, letting it slip for somebody’s entertainment when I have only ever yelled it for myself, made my pulse race.

I gasped sharply, my hips bucking as the vibrator hit just the right spot. “Yes,” I moaned, my voice high and breathy, trembling with need. My free hand gripped the sheets tighter, my body writhing on the bed as I edged closer and closer. “Oh, fuck. I’m—”

Nicholas clenched his jaw, his strokes quickening. His cock throbbed in his hand, pre-cum slicking his length as he watched me come undone. The chat was exploding with comments, but he didn’t care about any of them. All he cared about was me — and that donation.

I buried my face in the pillow for a moment, muffling a desperate, trembling moan as the vibrations coursed through me, pushing me closer to the edge. My entire body was taut, teetering between pleasure and release, the tension unbearable. Lifting my head slightly, I turned toward the camera, my cheeks flushed deep red beneath the lace mask.

And then it happened.

The knot in my stomach snapped, and a loud, raw cry tore from my lips. My body arched, every muscle trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over me. “Nicholas!” I cried out, my voice breaking as I came, his name spilling from my lips like it was the most natural thing in the world, because it was. My entire body convulsed and dropped onto the bed, violently trembling from pure pleasure.

Nicholas froze, his entire body locking up as the sound of his name filled his headphones. “I—Fuck!” Nicholas’s eyes fluttered shut as he growled, his hand gripping himself tightly as my orgasm unraveled in front of him. My moans, my trembling thighs, the way I arched my back and collapsed onto the bed in the aftershocks — it was too much, and he let go.

A guttural groan tore from his throat, his cock twitching in his hand as he came, his release spilling over his fist and shirt in hot, sticky spurts. His head fell back against the headboard, his breathing ragged and heart pounding against his ribs as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, utterly spent. “Good girl,” he quietly panted.

When he opened his eyes, I was still trembling and avoiding the camera’s gaze, my body slowly relaxing as I came down from the high. My cheeks were flushed, my breathing heavy, my hair a little mussed from the mask’s elastic band slipping off just so, and there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at my lips. “Fuck, that was amazing,” I whispered.

Nicholas reached for a box of tissues on his nightstand and wiped his hand and tried to clean as much of his shirt as he could, then reached for the beer bottle on his nightstand and took a swig to quench his thirst, a small smirk on the corner of his lips.

I reached for a tissue from the nightstand, cleaning up the toy and myself before glancing back at the camera. The chat lit up with more comments and donations, all of them praising my performance but I only had one thing on my mind.

“Where’s that donation you promised, NC17?” I asked with a coy smile, rolling over on my stomach and tossing my vibrator aside.

Nicholas chuckled under his breath, his chest still rising and falling heavily. He shook his head, leaning forward to type on the keyboard. He typed in the payment details again, adding the promised donation with a smirk tugging at his lips. His cursor hovered over the “send” button for a beat longer than necessary before he clicked it.

NC17 donated $1,000: You earned it, baby. Don’t spend it all at once.

The notification flashed on my screen, bold and unmistakable. My eyes widened slightly and I froze, my breath hitching audibly as I stared at the amount. The most I had ever made in a single stream — in a single donation. The chat immediately erupted with reactions, some congratulatory, others envious that it hadn’t been them to make the donation, but I barely noticed them.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, sitting up slightly and brushing my hair back, my fingers trembling as I adjusted the mask that had slipped slightly during the stream. “NC17, you are the best. Oh, my god! Thank you, thank you, thank you. That’s… wow. You’re amazing.”

Nicholas leaned back against the headboard, his smirk deepening as he watched my reaction. The way my voice trembled with gratitude, the way I bit my lip nervously — it was all too much, too intoxicating. It sent a thrill through him, knowing he was the one making me react like that.

“Damn straight,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his damp hair as he reached for his beer again. He took a long swig, his eyes never leaving the screen as I began to wind down the stream. His chest still heaved slightly, his body thrumming with the aftershocks of everything that had just happened.

“I think that’s it for tonight,” I said softly, my voice carrying that familiar mix of shyness and playfulness. “Thank you all for being here. And thank you again, NC17. You’ve been… incredible.” My eyes flicked to the chat one last time, lingering on his username before I smiled and waved. “Goodnight, everybody. Sweet dreams,” I blew a kiss to the camera.

sweetdream has ended the stream.

With that, I leaned forward and ended the stream, the screen fading to black. I sat back against my headboard, letting out a shaky breath as I pulled off the lace mask. My cheeks were still flushed, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at the laptop, the donation total lingering in the corner of the screen.

Across town, Nicholas shut his own laptop with a quiet click and pulled off his earphones, tossing both aside and running a hand down his face once reality started to creep back in. He’d just crossed a line — one he couldn’t uncross. He’d watched me, his friend, in a way that was impossible to forget. And worse, I’d said his name. Called out for him while I fell apart on camera, in front of God knows how many strangers. Even worse, he’d dropped over two thousand dollars just to see it happen.

He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. He knew he’d have to face me eventually. Knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this secret forever. But for now, he let the smirk linger, his mind already spinning with how to handle the situation.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and teasing as he reached for his beer.

[fuk3d]

A Moment In Time

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Warning(s): Mentions of neglect, verbal abuse, and self-doubt.

Word Count: 1,074

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time getting back into writing fanfic since 2016 LMAOOO. Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is pure shit so pls feel free to give me constructive criticism. AND PLEASE TELL ME IF THERE'S MISTAKES CUZ THATS EMBARRASSING HAHA. Also writings cringe as hell so soz.

The Wayne resident felt empty, soulless, cold, and you couldn't bare the stillness of it all. So you step out onto the balcony, coffee in hand with the chilling air biting at your fingers harshly. You absentmindedly sipped on your coffee, the warm sensation from your cup steadily combating the freezing cold. The garden's atmosphere was filled with tranquility, the sun's rays slowly touching everything in its path. 

If only it could be like this forever.

You breathe in a shaky sigh and flutter your eyes to a gentle close, small puffs of air exit your mouth as you exhale out slowly. This would be the last time you’ll be gazing down at the alluring range of flowers scattered across the garden, its colours radiating brightly from the warm sunrise as it gently caressed the horizon. You can’t help but think back to all of your greatest achievements, your not so finest moments, and the bitter reminder of lonely memories that are left dormant inside your mind.

What more could I have done? Why didn’t I try harder? Why? Why, why, why, wh-

“Young (Name)? Are you alright? It’s cold out there, you should come back inside, where it’s warm.” Your eyes snap back open and you turn your body to face your family butler, Alfred. You blink, then you blink again, until you sputter out your reply with a wobbly smile. “Alfred! I’m- I’m fine, I just wanted to have my coffee out on the balcony.” ‘one last time’.

You turn to breathe in the fresh air for the final time before leaving the balcony area in silence. Today is your 18th birthday, and yet it doesn’t feel like it. A birthday is supposed to be a milestone, something to be celebrated with friends and family, with loved ones.

You shake yourself out of your stupor, a shudder leaves your lips, the icy temperature sending chills throughout your body. You find yourself sitting down near the kitchen table, your lukewarm coffee still in hand. And Alfred all but quietly makes your favourite breakfast, just how you’ve liked it for the last 18 years of your life. It’s been hard, you think to yourself. The unwarranted isolation from Bruce, the hurtful, cut-throat words thrown towards you from Damian as if you were a burden, the excuses from Dick, claiming he already had plans made so “Maybe next time! Yeah?”. And you remember so vividly of Jason pushing you away, as if the bond you two shared didn’t matter anymore. The fond memories, the time spent together, gone, just like that after he had died.

And how could you forget about Tim? Or about Cass, Barbara, Stephanie, and Duke? None of them rarely ever put in the effort to spend even a fraction of their time with you. But it doesn’t matter to you, right? No, not even a single bit, you don’t care anymore; of course you don’t care! Because you’re done, you’re done being in the shadows, done being stuck within those four tiny walls that had been called ‘your room’, and done with not being anyone's choice, especially not even your fathers. 

Even so, that's not true is it? You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to yourself. You do care, and it stings because you’ve been caring up until you forced yourself not to anymore.

With your heart held heavy in your chest, an indescribable ache creeps up your throat as you recount the gut-wrenching memories that you struggle to desperately shake from your head, your now empty cup sits cold on the table in front of you. 

“Breakfast served.” Alfred slides a plate of your favourite in front of you. Your lips are stretched into a light smile, yet it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you Alfred..” You say before the both of you are engulfed in comfortable silence. You eat your breakfast at a comfortable pace, savouring the delectable taste that fills your mouth before inevitably finishing your breakfast. Your family's butler busies himself by cleaning the kitchen counter, wiping it down with careful precision before moving down to wipe down the very kitchen table you sit at. “Hey, uhm Alfred?” You speak up before you can even stop yourself, the words stumbling out in a fervent storm. 

“Will you miss me when I move out?” Alfred can only stop and look at you, really look at you. And from the looks of it, you appear collected, indifferent even, but to your butler he notices nearly everything about you. The way you play with your hair when you’re nervous, or how you fiddle with your fingers when you’re uncomfortable and the slight furrow of your eyebrows as you concentrate. So you can’t help but shrink just a little at his expression, his features showing no emotion for you to understand what he’s feeling. 

“I know you’re busy assisting the families business with… their nightly duties and... and I realise I’ve been such a burden to you and the family, but I know I’ll miss you the most out of everyone so-” 

you’re abruptly cut off by the shuffling of Alfred’s feet walking towards you, his arms enveloping you into a hug. A hug that was desperately needed and long overdue. You reciprocate Afred’s action’s and tightly wrap your arms around him, your hands scrunching up Alfred’s uniform because of how hard your hands are balled up into fists. You’re stunned, too puzzled to speak as Afred’s begins to speak. 

“You will be missed dearly Young [Name]. You’re smile, you’re creativity, you’re ideas, our time together; I’ll miss all of these things, those moments that we have.” a pleasant warmth settles within you, Alfred’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, bringing you to his chest as he pats gently. It’s barely audible but it's there, a small sniffle once, twice, then a series of them start to fill the empty rooms' quietness. Tears start to well up within your tear ducts except you refuse to let them fall despite a few already running down your face. You cry, you just feel so scattered and a bit of a mess right now as your tears and snot stain Alfred's clothes.

You let yourself be in the moment, you let down your walls and stripped away the hard exterior around your heart. You’re vulnerable and…  it feels great. 

For once you feel relieved. Happy.

Credit to @adornedwithlight!

End Note: Just to rephrase, this is my first time getting back into writing fan-fiction so I'm rusty asf lol. And any writers that have been doing this for way longer than me, please give me some tips or advice on how I can improve my own writing LMAOO.

[shanblackrx]

ADDING TO THIS:

I've talked briefly about this when analyzing the marriage pillow talk scene, but quote on quote, "those (forehead to forehead scenes) were not that lowkey confessions in my book" is right. And I think these forehead touch scenes basically show the development of Jack's feelings. So to expand the logic about these scenes a bit:

this one - Jack has just realized and accepted his own feelings, and gave hints. Even if he was uncertain about Joke's (or if Joke realized his own feelings, bc by now it'd kind of be pretty clear lol but he still didn't want to pressure him), and didn't outwardly say he's in love, he still made Joke promise to be by his side in the most important moment of his life - when he achieves his dream. It's the easiest way to be by someone's side, when they're at their best, but he did want to share that moment with Joke. Confession 1.

the one at the hospital - it was when everything went to shit, he didn't have a choice but to pause any further development of their potential romantic relationship, or it'd put everyone's life on the line, especially grandma's. He asked, almost pleading, if Joke would still be by his side if the worst would happen, because he wanted him to. He wanted Joke to be by his side even when he'd be at his worst. It's not easy at all to be by someone's side when they hit the bottom of the barrel, and especially Jack who never wants to bring people down with him, he still wanted Joke there with, FOR him. Confession 2.

the kiss - Kind of self-explanatory since he literally confessed, but something important to note: not only did he get free of what was holding him back, I think the whole deal with Rosé made him reach his limit. After staying so long with someone he didn't love and having a bad falling out with Joke because of it, he could no longer starve off his feelings and that's why he told Boss he couldn't do it anymore. He left Rosé and her house with the goal of coming clean. And even then he didn't do anything on impulse - he still 'baited' Joke into asking who he liked. There was literally no other reason for the truth or dare game after saying he turned Rosé down because he liked someone else. He pulled more or less the same move of the first scene, creating a chance for himself to confess, but this time he wasn't just testing the waters. I'm pretty sure he'd confess either way. He did it because he wanted to be with Joke that very moment and no later than that. So, Confession 3.

We don't see Jack's POV too often, and even when we do, the feelings are so subtle, so under so many layers of self-protection, self-sacrifice and self-control it's hard to see them clearly. So that's why I think these scenes say a whole lot about Jack and how his mind works, even if it's hard to see.

Most of you probably already know this but I guess it doesn’t hurt to say it.

We all know how Jack is.

He is methodical. He thinks things through. He doesn’t do things by impulse.

So this? Why would he pick those words, particularly? Love, Confess, Promise??

WELL

I think Jack was already thinking of confessing, cause he already knew his feelings here

and this

was a test run.

So, when all Joke gave him was that cute little “huh?”

it became too much, too real, suddenly

so he of course chickened out, which is understandable.

and backs away from it

I think about this all the time and I haven’t seen anyone mention it so I thought I should, cause like I mentioned, Jack isn’t one to act on impulse.

No, he gave himself a chance to confess his feelings by creating the perfect setting for him to throw a smoke bomb if it didn’t go well so he wouldn’t have to do any damage control.

Jack you’re very smart, but I see right through your thirsty ass, my babes.

[frakts1ya]

let you break my heart again ft. xu minghao

💔 -> or, minghao realizes what he did wrong and wants to try again || wc : 1k.

☆ song recs! : let you break my heart again - laufey ; cold love - the8 ; darl + ing - seventeen ; real man - beabadoobee ; try again - jaehyun, d.ear

You and your ex both remember the break-up day like it was yesterday. A year together, 365 plus days filled with laughter and tears, which were all gone. Your ex, Minghao didn't know why he really did it, why he broke up with you. He just woke up one day and lost feelings.

You spent a week crying in the arms of your friends. You loved Minghao, and even if you tell yourself you had gotten over him, a little piece of you still wants him.

"...after that I literally- y/n? you good?" Danielle asks, noticing your shift in demeanor. There, out of the corner of your eye, you see Minghao, your one and only ex, the love of your life, hanging out with his friends. “That bitch.”

“Dani, it's… it's fine,” You say, still staring at him. His gaze meets yours, and your eyes widen. 

You sheepishly wave to him, which he hesitates before raising his hand back at you. 

Your phone then buzzes. Minghao is on the phone, so you're guessing it was from him.

 come over here.

“He's telling me to come over, I'll be back.” You run over to Minghao, and the friends he's with take this as a sign to leave.

“Hello, y/n.” Words you haven't heard in so long. It warms your heart, even if he doesn't like you anymore.

“Hi, Hao. How are you?” The conversations you've had all those years ago, forgotten about. From the early getting-to-know-each-other icebreaker talks to the late night deep conversations, you miss all of it.

“I'm good. You?” Minghao's heart skipped a beat. It's been so long since you've called him Hao.

“I've been good. Why do you still want to talk to me?” Such a mood killer, y/n. You know, but something inside you needed a conclusion.

“I need you.” Even Minghao wasn't expecting those words to exit his mouth.

“Huh? Hao, what do you mean?”

He exhales, already unsure if he wants to say what he has in mind. “I regret everything. It's been 6 months since we broke up, yet I can't stop thinking about you. I thought I lost feelings, but seeing you again today made me realize how much of an asshole I was to you. So please, y/n, give me another chance.” 

After he finishes, he watches your expression shift, eyes softening and darting away from his figure. “I don't know. You already broke my heart once. I was sad for weeks, Hao. I don't know if I could do this again.”

“I'll do better. I won't hurt you like I did last time.”

You stop for a second to think. Minghao was looking at you with the same expression he had when he first confessed to you. 

“Let's go get some coffee together, okay? We'll see what happens.”

“That drink looks disgustingly sweet. You're going to have a heart attack.” Minghao comments on the caramel frappuccino you ordered.

“You’re the one who ordered plain tea! Let me taste,” You took his cup and sipped the tea, scrunching your face up at the bitter taste.

In response to your reaction, Minghao took your drink and tried it, also making a disgusted face after swallowing. The two of you both laugh like you were still together. 

“I missed you,” You mutter ashamedly. 

“Yeah, I did too. I'm really sorry for breaking up with you. I-” Minghao stops mid sentence.

“You..?”

“I tried dating someone else for a bit. It didn't last. She said I was too hung up on my ex. I told her she was wrong, but I don't think she was.” Minghao holds your hand, his thumb tracing circles in the space behind your pointer.

“Oh, Minghao…” You pout, using your free hand to brush stray strands of hair out of his face. “Then, why did you do it?”

“I didn't think I was good enough,” He admits, barely audible for you to hear, “You deserved better than me, and I don't think I was ready then. It's different now. I've improved. Started meditating, taking better care of myself, you know.”

“You were always good for me, baby.” The whole café disappears as your lips approach his, bringing him in a soft kiss. 

“Shit, I didn't mean to-” You apologize, running off before Minghao could say anything. 

“Yeah, I fucked up bad!” You rant to Danielle, who's intently listening the entire time you recap your encounter.

“Did you see his face?” Danielle inquires, “Maybe he liked it?”

“I don't think so. He's going to hate me now. I thought we could restart, but, fuck!” You exclaim exactly as thunder hits the ground, making you jump. “This world hates me.”

The doorbell of yours and Danielle’s shared apartment rings, and Danielle glances over at you. “Want to go get it?” You shake your head, and Danielle goes to open the door. You hear incomprehensible chatter before Danielle goes back to your room to tell you: “Y/n, someone's waiting for you.”

You go to the door, where a very wet Minghao stands.

“Um-”

You can't get any words out before his hands are harshly gripping your cheeks and he's kissing you.

“Payback for leaving me in the café after you kissed me,” Minghao pants.

“Why? You're soaking wet, did you not bring an umbrella?” You fret, hands grabbing onto his damp button-up.

“Didn't have one. I needed to see you as soon as possible, my love. Let's start over.”

His forehead is pressed against yours, you could feel your heart beating out of its chest. “No, let's pick up from where we left off. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll love you in the future.”

“Okay…” The two of you are quiet for a hot second, before Minghao asks, “Can I come in and dry myself?”

“Of course. You know where the bathroom is.” You let him in and close the door behind you. As he makes his way over to the bathroom, you watch with the same eyes you watched him with when he first came over, or when you had your first kiss with him.

Though you knew (or, at least hoped) he wouldn't repeat his mistake, you would let Xu Minghao break your heart again.

[leighlew3]

So...

I know a lot of people out there are feeling lost, helpless, hopeless, and especially perhaps the younger crowd wonders: what now? As someone who has taken hit after hit after hit of trauma, abuse, homelessness, suffering, struggle, loss, illness, etc in my life that at times seems never ending... dealing with perpetual trauma and finding hope in the face of devastation is uhhh sorta my specialty.

*dorky wink and finger guns*

So, first of all on my end let me explain my plans, and then get into the 'why' and what else I plan to do and how I think we all need to tackle these coming days, weeks, months and sadly -- years.

For mental health reasons on the heels of still struggling with my grief and what sadly has become chronic health issues, I'm probably going to spend the foreseeable future hyper-focused on writing, fictional ships, planning my next tattoo, the WNBA free agency, the end of the current NFL season, and doing everything humanly possible to boost my immune system for what will inevitably be the next pandemic/plague that this administration will laugh at as Americans drop dead again because "sCiEncE iSnT rEaL".

And I advise others to find what will help them survive as well.

Here's the thing though: "give up" is not in my DNA. Nor is burying my head and hiding out away from "anything negative", because that's a hella privileged position to take, and I'm not about that life.

So, I will be signing all the petitions possible, making calls to reps who actually have proven they care, protesting when possible, sharing important info on social media, volunteering, etc as well.

Which brings me to the point here: don't give up. Do what you can. But also... recognize your humanity and limitations whether they be financial, physical, psychological or otherwise. Because sacrificing your own sanity and health isn't going to help anybody. And then we're down one less soldier in this battle for the greater good.

IF there's another election in four years (never in my lifetime did I think that would even be a question), we will have a lot of rebuilding to do regarding lost progress. We need to be ready.

In the meantime, dive into something productive and/or comforting for your own life that keeps you fulfilled but also be ready and willing to do what you can help those around you, at key moments. It's that whole "put on your oxygen mask first when the plane is going down" thing. You can't help a damn soul if you can't even breathe.

Be kind to the people you love. Tell them you love them daily. Connect with like-minded individuals. Protect and defend our most vulnerable wherever possible (the disabled, marginalized communities, fellow women/girls, etc). Hug your pets and if you don't have any, consider adopting a rescue.

Vote in the 2026 midterms. Volunteer at or donate to your local women's shelters, homeless shelters, racial justice organizations, LGBTQ+ organizations, animal rescues, environmental organizations, nursing homes for the elderly, etc.

We have to find the balance between self-care for ourselves and making our own lives tolerable amidst this bs, especially any of us who belong to one or more of the above groups -- while also plugging in to help others and the community as a whole, as needed.

And trust me, it will be needed. More than ever.

You're not alone. Even if IRL you feel like you're the only person in your family or circle who hasn't 'drank the Kool Aid' and lost all sense of reason or basic human empathy.

If you're reading this right now -- please take a second to take some deep breaths, step away, and start setting both short-term and long-term goals for yourself and your life that will help you moving forward so you can continue to fight for yourself, and for us all.

Please remember, we're in this together.

I'm with you. 💜

[canmom]

assorted TTRPG things

nugget from the tab bonfire: at some point I was reading about RPGs. some things that are old, some are new(ish). here are some links, since I think they are interesting, and some additional comments.

first-up: my own RPG posts are now archived here. that section of my site is looking a whole lot more fleshed out now.

1. ritual

in 2021, Meguey Baker wrote this one about 'ritual in game design', fitting TTRPGs into her frame of faciliating rituals for essentially therapeutic purposes, aimed at parents. since I like talking in a vaguely (vaguely) anthropological way about the analogies between TTRPGs and other activities (improv comedy, kink, wrestling), this is very relevant.

by Meguey's definition, a ritual is defined through this series of words: intentional contained conscious creative action. of course, she gives these words fairly specialised definitions. she's mostly interested in addressing TTRPGs that go into tough, bleedy places, described in books like Alice Is Missing, BFF, and Bluebeard’s Bride - of these I'm only familiar with the third but I'm kind of aware of the genre of game she's talking about. she suggests that these principles don't really apply if you're just playing to hang out and have a good time, but to my mind, just because you're less formal about it doesn't mean that's not an aspect of ritual, and the analysis is similarly applicable there, just lower-stakes.

in fact I think a whole lot of human activities are rituals (classic bryn move to grab a conceptual hammer and start seeing nails everywhere). the analogy goes the other way too, rituals are kind of like games.

I'm not entirely convinced the breakdown into jargon words really does a lot for me, but the crucial thing here is the sort of entering and exiting into a constrained social space which has its special set of rules. meguey writes these cool little coloured lists which depict the various stages of getting you into a game/ritual headspace and exiting it afterwards...

...and specialises it to the case of roleplaying games as you see. it's pretty BDSM-like isn't it? sure, that's something I'm currently interested in, I recently read The New [Topping/Bottoming] Books, but it certainly does suggest that analogy strongly for me; I think a general recognition that RPGs should have aftercare would do a lot more for the scene than a lot of the other 'safety tools' like X-cards and so on. (a weaker analogy is the principles of animation: anticipation, action, follow-through.)

this idea of ritual also strongly parallels the definition of 'play' of roger callilois:

1. it is free, or not obligatory 2. it is separate from the routine of life, occupying its own time and space 3. it is uncertain, so that the results of play cannot be pre-determined and the player's initiative is involved 4. it is unproductive in that it creates no wealth, and ends as it begins economically speaking 5. it is governed by rules that suspend ordinary laws and behaviours and that must be followed by players 6. it involves make-believe that may be set against 'real life'.[6]: 100–101 

as a set of traits which describe a somewhat fuzzy sphere of activity. meguey's account of 'ritual' focuses more on the set of steps you follow to enter and leave the ritual space, but it is describing, I think, a heavily overlapping 'thing'.

why so explicitly break down a process that most people seem to come by naturally? well, probably for the same reason that kink people do it: the more you play with [emotional] fire, the more care you must exercise to keep it contained. but it is also pretty important, I think, to pursue some degree of ritual for the middle part to actually work. you need to switch mental gears first to get yourself operating in 'game space'. same goes for a number of other 'spaces' for that matter. in RPGs we already have plenty of rituals: getting set up around the table (for offline games), general chitchat beforehand to get us feeling social with the other players, the brief summary of the previous session to mark the transition into RPG mode...

one non-obvious extension that Meguey makes, in the third excerpt above is to the actual text of RPG books, in terms of how they are presented to the reader. I think this is genuinely quite an insight - when you read a book you get into RPG space a bit and imagine playing the game, building up the fantasy of what playing it will entail (c.f. what's the book for, part 3).

though, that said - it is tricky to pursue a strict ritual structure in presentation, I think, because I think RPG books tend to be read very non-linearly. only quite short games tend to get read cover-to-cover in one sitting. otherwise you tend to skip to the part that you need. still: the manner of presentation is very important to an RPG book serving its purposes. and this is a fascinating frame for it.

I'm not sure this essay necessarily gives a new direction (as a designer or a player), but it does give an interesting angle to understand things I was already doing previously, and do them a little more deliberately.

for example, when I make a point of mentioning moments that I enjoyed in the time after an RPG session before we all part ways, that is the 'return/celebration' part of the ritual, and crucially it reassures everyone that even if they were playing an unpleasant character or there was inter-character conflict in the session, it was something I was looking for and appreciated. I do this because there have been times when I've felt a bad kind of bleed, fearing that my character was 'too much' and was detracting from the session, or that a conflict in-character reflected an OOC conflict. having an explicit affirmation helps drive away those fears.

2. rule zero in D&D

this history of 'rule zero' in D&D editions dates all the way back to 2012 (although it seems to have been updated since), but it's still very relevant to my current efforts to understand RPGs, books, and all the weird practices around them, the role of 'rulings' in OSR, etc etc.

right off the bat, I appreciate the nuances that this early paragraph expresses:

The attitude towards rulings vs. rules in the game shows up  - directly and explicitly in the rules text - implicitly in the text and detectable via textual analysis  - in the surrounding publications considered semi-canonical (Dragon magazine, nowadays forums and designer blogs), and  - the culture of gamers surrounding it.

while the rest of the post is still focused on what books say rather than what people did with those books, it's a relief when people note that there is a difference.

so, the essay traces a general evolution of ideas about what role the rules in the book are supposed to follow as D&D moved away from wargaming and passed through the hands of different publishers. how much interpolation and discretion the DM is supposed to apply to the text, how authoritative they're supposed to be at their own table compared to the non-DM players...

it's fascinating to observe how the culture of the game evolved. it's also tricky to distil the different currents down into a brief summary - I tried and realised I was just recapping the article in less detail. luckily the author wrote a summary so I can just quote that:

0e – the referee is an aribiter and fills in the gaps 1e – the DM is large and in charge, the rules are pretty good, your players are at both’s behest B/X and 2e – the DM and players are both important, the rules are super mutable 3e/early 3.5e – the rules and players and DM are leveled out in importance, meaning rulings are minimized and a negotiation with players BECMI/late 3.5e/4e – the rules are pretty fixed and players and DM are equal and subject to the rules as law; RAW is an option OSR and Pathfinder – splitting off in their own directions in reaction to 4e, OSR back to a mix of 0e and B/X flavored attitudes and Pathfinder to a hybrid of 1e/2e/3e attitudes 5e – The DM is clearly in charge and can ignore/change rules and rolls as they deem wise, with the goal of everyone having fun (as opposed to the sometimes-stated 1e goal of “keeping the players in their place”.) It reincorporated a lot of the 1e and 2e thinking into the game to an even greater degree than Pathfinder. PF2e – Effectively back to 3e positioning fairly exactly. It stepped back away from where PF1e and 5e were going and got a little less enthusiastic about GM authority, carefully scoping it to interpretation and, sometimes, changes to make things fun. Maybe a *little* more towards 5e than 3e was, but only by a hair.

anyway, there are a couple of interesting points I want to pull out of the discussion. first is this insightful comment on the broader implications of rules that grant abilities - something to discuss further in a later post...

The problem with [D&D 3.5e's claim that you can try anything and the rules only govern chances of success] from a textual interpretation standpoint is that it’s hard to not interpret the raft of “possibility” options in the 3e branch of D&D as being restriction of options. I can try to throw my opponent in a grapple – until a feat comes out that says “In a grapple, you can now throw your opponent.” Thus despite mitigating statements by the designers, their design itself passively promulgates an approach to the rules as written.

there's also an interesting line about how 'old school' the OSR actually is, answer being that it's complicated.

Some, however, consider this to be a bit of a retcon of how old school gaming actually worked. As you can see from this research, it is and it isn’t – the “rulings vs. rules” concept was very strong especially in B/X and 2e, somewhat less so in 0e/1e, and actively militated against in BECMI. Hackmaster and the Knights of the Dinner Table comic prominently parody the not uncommon rules-adherence mode of play in AD&D. As all nostalgia does, the Quick Primer picks certain elements out of the past to bring back and leaves aside some other elements.

finally, we have this comment about the (then very new) 5th edition approach to framing its rules:

It also appears to take a hint from the OSR’s formulation of “rulings, not rules” as well as the prominent fiction-first modern indie games like Apocalypse World when it describes the basic pattern of play – 1. The DM describes the environment 2. The players describe what they want to do (and the DM decides how to resolve those actions – importantly, the PCs don’t decide what rules they use) 3. The DM narrates the results

...which is somewhat true to my experience of 5e, although I think there is still a fairly significant component of 'I use this ability on my character sheet' in the game (I use this weapon, I cast this spell, I use this special ability). So the players do often decide what rules they want to invoke. Although, that is also true of Apocalypse World - something to go into another day.

mostly I think it's really helpful to have a proper sense of the space of practices represented by D&D, since popular discourse (including the game's rulebooks) way too often seems to assume there is only one way that D&D is played. this is a good stab at exploring some of the dimensions, and will definitely inform whatever is the next investigation I make into the structure of RPGs.

for another angle on D&D history, I came across this old (2016) ENWorld post tracing how Gygax got increasingly proprietary and litigious with D&D, and hostile to people putting their own spins on it.

it seems like for more on this topic of early RPG history I should be taking a look at The Elusive Shift by John Peterson, so posssibly more to come on this subject when I get round to reading that one.

3. blorb

I came across Sandra Snan's website, idiomdrottning.org, which is another one of those classic static-site treasure troves of someone's thoughts on everything for like the last decade.

like me, she came back to playing trad games like D&D after spending a while exploring the storygames milieu. She landed on a set of practices relating to the concreteness of the setting, in explicit opposition to 'no myth'-style games where anything not stated out loud is fair game to be modified for the sake of narrative.

she calls this 'blorb', and as these things tend to, it gets something like a manifesto. many other articles on this site talk about various facets of roleplaying games are written about on the site in relation to this.

'blorb' focuses on the relationship between preparation and improvisation: making a big show of referring to things on paper, and making decisions in the open, to reinforce the sort of metanarrative that there is an underlying reality even if it hasn't fully been discovered yet. it emphasises more granular simulation over abstraction.

since it's a little hard to navigate Sandra's archives, I've gathered the posts that are relevant to the subject here:

the chasm width problem (motivating, raising the issue that few games explicitly address the how of DMing)

blorb principles

realism and blorb (which discusses the other name 'klokkverk' used elsewhere in the milieu, and compares it to 'no myth') + the fictioneers talk about blorb again

radically transparent DM-ing

say the DC

antiblorb

GM-less roleplaying games

a blorb thought

the quest queue

there's probably others but these are the main ones I read

for contrast, no myth, a somewhat overlapping and somewhat very different paradigm of games that broadly sums up the norms of the Forge/'story games' tradition.

to sandra, 'blorb' is a statement of the type of roleplaying she finds vastly more satisfying to operate, and the crucial elements to make that happen.

what I find interesting about blorb is that, since its main interlocutor is the Forge/story-games tradition, it puts a fair bit of discussion into how this affects the fiction in practice. e.g. what you should prepare and what you can still improvise, and how the existence of the 'gloracle' (the combination of prepped materials and dice/rules, and rigour in consulting them) shapes our notion of 'the fiction'.

via this post, vincent baker back in 2012 defined RPGs thus:

To me, the crucial feature that makes a game an RPG is that it works by the (so-called) lumpley primple: in order to play, we have to create fictional stuff and agree that, for gameplay purposes, it's true. This is a pretty technical and inclusive definition. It includes Once Upon a Time and that game where you sit in a circle and pretend that some of you are werewolves, for instance.

something I find very interesting RPGs is the process of 'synchronisation' of the shared fiction. the idea of 'shared fiction' is something of an elaborate illusion. every player has a different version of it, with different emphases, different things that are fresh in memory, different interpretations of the images...

consider verbal descriptions of locations. my sense of what is in a scene will constantly be adjusted based on the stream of description I'm receiving from other players - the 'shared fiction' is at best something we approach asymptotically.

in an extreme example, a DM could lead with an elaborate description of the architecture, decorations, and layout of the room, before wrapping up with 'and curled around the central pillar is a mighty red dragon'. dun dun dun! suddenly, I have to recontextualise everything in the scene I was building in my head to accomodate the presence of the dragon.

the unreliability of this communications channel was a source for a vein of classic D&D humour, such as the Dread Gazebo of yore, where the communication channel breaks down leading to an inconsistency in the 'shared' fiction.

'no myth' and similar ideas come from the recognition that, until something is said out loud and enters part of the shared fiction, it can be changed freely between any possibility consistent with the 'established' facts. sort of like the wave function collapse algorithm. they take the attitude that you should do this deliberately to maximise drama and add complications, taking on more of a writer/director role. this character enters a bar, what should they encounter there? it would be fucked up if they encountered their ex, right? ergo their ex is there.

there is a degree of this in every RPG, not just your high-improv post-Forge story games. in order for some sort of consensus to be reached, parts of it must be black-boxed and unpredictable. for example, if I am inhabiting a character, I have my idea of how they will act and what they're feeling and thinking about, and that's authoritative. but that means for everyone else's characters, I have my impressions and predictions, but they're subject to being updated as soon as that player speaks.

for Sandra, this recognition that everything is getting moved around for drama undermines the substance of the world - an inescapable awareness even if the players take pains to make the established, spoken-out-loud fiction consistent.

so, additional 'authority' is central to the 'blorb' playstyle. that is, in addition to each player's authority to make up stuff within their domain (e.g. what their character does), you make a big point of deferring to some additional authorities such as pre-prepped material and dice (which Sandra calls the 'gloracle'), and making it explicit to the players that you're doing so. for example, you might talk about the random encounter tables you're using and what would change their contents, or declare the DC before every roll.

it's kind of a defensive style of DMing, in that it's entirely designed to forestall any suspicion of 'fudging' behind the scenes. the tradeoff is: more explicit discussion of game mechanics which might detract from the sort of 'atmosphere', but equally a stronger sense of inhabiting an external world where things are 'really' happening 'offscreen'.

to me, the idea of 'fudging' doesn't bother me nearly as much as it seems to bother Sandra, but I think there is some truth to the thought that if everything is subject to random tables or pure off-the-dome improv, the game can start to feel a very homogeneous. as Sandra puts it in one of her articles:

I don’t want to expand randomly as we go either, because if everything is randomly rolled as you go along, where’s the agency? South becomes the same as north becomes the same as west because wherever you go, the dice are furnishing for you, so the choice about where to go matters less.

it's probably got something to do with information theory, right? once you become familiar with the table, and you know when the table will be invoked, you've broadly found out what there is to know about that thing. there are only so many bits of information.

I was saying the other day, games are interesting because they are something to explore through interacting with them to discover all their weird nuances. players are pretty good at sniffing out how complex and varied the underlying system is. a wide set of interesting, spicy locations - and logical relations between them - has more nuances to discover than a random table with, say, 10 entries.

the problem is of course that such a prep-focused playstyle can lead to huge amounts of 'wasted' effort fleshing out elements of the gloracle which may never be activated, especially if players don't spend their time rubbing against your creation in various ways to discover its nuances. Sandra's approach is to work out what's easy to improvise on the fly (the 'wallpaper') and what is crucial to pin down in advance, and largely prepare the latter - the difference, I guess, coming down to experience. we can think of it in programming terms: a small authoritative state and things that can be derived from that.

in my experience, at least some players have become a lot more considerate of the workload of GMing. far from trying to resist 'railroading', they will often generally deliberately try to steer themselves towards whatever location a DM has prepared as a courtesy; meanwhile the GM will be able to get a sense of where the players are planning to go so they can prep between sessions. however, that is contrary to the more 'sandboxy' approach where the core appeal is 'you can do pretty much anything', which is what Sandra is trying to generate I think.

I'm too much of an improv-focused GM to really become a partisan of 'blorb' - for me, discovering improv-oriented story games after D&D was as revelatory as discovering D&D after storygames was for Sandra lol. I trust somewhat in my ability to come up with weird interesting stuff on the fly and flesh it out later, and I tend to find the moment of being in the hotseat of an RPG gets the creative juices flowing like nothing else, so it's actually quite difficult to come up with anything good during prep.

however, I think there is a lot to be said for the value of making at least certain things concrete, and communicating that to the players, and Sandra makes a good case for showing your hand. it's a way to make the shared fantasy take on certain qualities it won't have if it remains purely arbitrary improv, even if the only real functional difference is when you make something up. both because it's hard to keep track of everything in your head without some kind of aid, and because the first idea you come up with will rarely be the richest, most interesting.

so next time i run a game, I'm not going to take such a zero-prep, all-improv approach, but try and work a bit harder on 'overall consistency'.

definitely a provocative blog to encounter...

[alexdswfan]

Omg, thanks for the tag @darkskywishes and @starshower1215!

Three ships you like: Levihan from Attack on Titan forever my OTP, then Jayvik from Arcane and Asouryuu from Dai Gyakuten Saiban (I am a sucker for best friends calling each other partner I guess haha)

First ship ever: I think the first ship I really got obsessed with is San and Ashitaka from Princess Mononoke. (My first fic ever was a San/Ashitaka fic where I made them live together in the forest after the events of the movie. So what were the odds that years later, my next OTP gets a scene in canon where they also want to live together in the forest 😭😭?? I guess I have a thing for forest escapades in my ships lmaoo).

Last song you heard: "Outro Tear" by BTS (can't wait for their comeback!! 💜💜)

Favourite childhood book: I was such a huge fan of the Bone comics when I was younger (and still am). Must've read these books so many times by now.

Currently reading: I'm mostly reading fics these days (I have so many on my list and I want to get through all of them!)

Currently watching: Finished watching Squid Game Season 2, I'm so pumped for Season 3, but now I'm back to my Barbie marathon. I'm at Barbie Dreamhouse Adventures (which isn't as good as Life in the Dreamhouse - that show is amaze!)

Currently consuming: Lots of tea ☕️ (Levi gets it ahaha)

Currently craving: More free time lolol (school break wasn’t near long enough 😢)

Open tags for whoever wants to join!

Thank you for the tag @thistlecatfics :D

3 ships you like: Sirius/Severs is a very loved favourite. Fenrir/Alphard is a personal headcanon, and for some non-Harry Potter: Niki/Joe from The Old Guard will always have my heart

First ship ever: Niki/Joe brought me to writing fanfic, before them I mostly did OCs.

Last song you heard: I'm all shook up from Elvis. We are in our "teach the kids some good music fundamentals"phase.

Favourite childhood book: Astrid Lindgren's Ronia, the Robber's Daughter - such a beautiful book to teach kids about tolerance, acceptance and about making their own decisions

Currently reading: Terry Pratchett - the collected books :)

Currently watching: I am a bit in between because I just finished "The law according to Lidia Poet" a beautiful Italian series - obscure but absolutely worth it (give it a try if you can)

Currently consuming: lemon white chocolate cookie, super unhealthy but good for the soul

Currently craving: the next ball room dance. I will have to wait a whole year and it was so perfect yesterday

I tag @squintclover , @soloorganaas, @tracingpatternswrites, @metalomagnetic AND @meteoralinart

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Guys, I'm so, so, SO excited! I really did it. I just bought my first testosterone prescription! This is so amazing. Thank you all for filling my feed with so many amazing detrans stories, showing me no matter how fem I am, no matter how fat my ass gets or big my boobs get, or how much I sorta look like a girl if you squint your eyes I can still totally just detrans and embrace being a guy! I am so fucking pumped to finally grow facial hair, for my voice to deepen, for me to get super hairy! Oooo, my mind is racing! I'm not gonna come out to my family or coworkers right away. I'm gonna keep it a secret until I don't even remotely look like a girl anymore. I already scheduled my top surgery in a few weeks, so bye bye big bouncy boobs! You were fun while you lasted, but like all of you keep telling me, I need to stop living my silly girly fantasy and embrace reality. I'm totally a boy!

I mean, I perv on girls and half the accounts I follow even on my main are thirst content with big tits, huge asses, girls that love to get thick and flaunt their fattening bodies! Mmmmm. I'm getting so hard just thinking about it. My doctor even said once I detrans I'll never get results like mine back! I'll never regrow boobs like these, fully lose the hair, have a girly voice, or a tiny cock I can hide. I'll be a guy forever! I bit my lip and told him I masturbate every night picturing myself as a boy, that my parents shouldn't have encouraged a delusional fakegirl like me! All I did as a girl was fuck guys, give out blowjobs like free candy, and jerk off constantly anyway, sometimes in public.....

Being a hot girl is just a kinky fantasy of mine, and I get that now. I'm not really trans, I'm just a perverted boy who's obsessed with girls. It's time I become a stud and show the world who I really am! I bought a bunch of weight gain and protein shakes at the pharmacy, too! I think I'm gonna try to bulk up, and become a really husky guy with a beard and a big gut. Wouldn't that suit me so perfectly? Just imagine me balding, losing my pretty hair, a nice full beard, my removed breasts getting flabby, a giant round belly in front of me from drinking loads of beer and eating whatever I want! I really want to get big! Wish me luck!

Two years on and damn, my moobs are almost the size of my old fakegirl tits! God, detransing was the best choice of my life! I'm working my way up to 400lbs. I love not being hyper desirable, especially to guys anymore. It's weird walking around and not getting groped or having my skirt pulled up so a guy can fill my ass with his cum on the bus ride home. But now I'm having way more fun perving on unsuspecting girls. Rubbing up on them, groping them, apologizing that I'm so fat and probably smell..... it makes me hard that they can smell me and get weirded out. I love fucking pretty college girls, they're so easy and desperate, even if they're disgusted by me they'll roll their eyes and tell me, 'Just get it over with, you fat slob!' And godddd it makes me so hard!

My cock is almost a foot long and I adore the gasps of surprise when they see it and the moans of pain and discomfort when I ram the whole thing in their curvy, often pregnant bodies, whimpering that they hope my cock doesn't break their water. Then I give their belly a super hard slap and tell them it seems like their womb is in good working order! I love being a pervy fat dude, I was soooo right when I decided to detrans. I even get to fuck my share of big-titted, fat-assed fakegirl, who I whisper to in their ears, telling them I used to look just like them, and they need to embrace being a guy, too, and wind up just like me. They get so hard when I tell them how amazing it feels to become a really fat man, the sexual freedom of embracing everything they're meant to be. No matter how pretty and perfectly passing they are they melt like butter and cum effortlessly when I tell them about how they need to go on T and gain a ton of weight..... With any luck these bratty fakegirls will learn their lesson and obey. Here's to another year of fucking every girl I want, and eating as much as possible! Living the true destiny of every dumb little fakegirl reading this!"

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 8

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

It's been two weeks since the Halloween party.

And now you may be wondering, oh my God, what has happened between Inés and Pedri since then? Have they talked about what happened while they were dancing? About what he said? Did she speak with Carla the next morning? Did she get too angry? Are they still friends?

Well, yes, we still are friends. And yes, she got a bit angry. 

Once we got home from the party we didn't say much. I was still a bit shaken by what had happened, so she just helped me get out of my dress and we went to bed. But in the morning, while we were having breakfast, I told her everything. From Pedri not telling me who he was, to me finding out, getting a bit tipsy because of Nacho's fault, and all the touching and kissing neck and cleavage that came after plus what he confessed while my hand was there, and then when he told me about breaking up with Nerea and the swimming pool accident. And her reactions were different intonations of the same “oh my God, Inés!” than went from “what the fuck is wrong with you”, to “what the fuck I can't believe it”, and everything in between. 

But in the end, everything was and is good between us. She still can't believe the hand part, loves reminding me about the tits kissing like she calls it and making my face turn bright red, keeps telling me to be careful because things could still get messy and she doesn't want him to break my heart, but at the same she doesn't forget about what Nacho said. About everyone knowing that I like Pedri and that he feels the same for me. That he likes me back.

“They say kids and drunks always tell the truth, Inés” Carla had said. 

But we are talking about Nacho. He isn't the most trustworthy person. Though he and Pedri are really close, so could he have confessed something to him? 

Then there is what Vic told me before the party, all that thing about the connection we have and Nerea being jealous of it, me maybe being in love with him… 

And oh, yes. Since all that wasn't confusing enough already, we need to add football to the mix.

We've been playing back to back games and barely having any free time since the Champions League is back. It's been all about training, playing, resting, traveling…  There hasn't been time for much else, not even to see Pedri and have that very much needed chat.

But today may be the day that changes.

It is my last game with Barça before the international break, which means that those of us who haven't been called up will have some time to breathe and relax for a bit. He is coming to watch us play, and then we are going to my place and making dinner together.

So maybe… Since we have this joke about only asking personal questions while cooking or cleaning for the other… I'll be brave enough and ask him about the party. About what happened between us. About what it meant.

Or maybe I will chicken out and stay confused as hell for two more weeks. Make your bets.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You know, if life as a journalist doesn't work, you can always open a restaurant, Pedri. This is the best thing I've ever eaten.”

“Thank you” he smiles. “Though maybe you should try eating it a bit slower?”

“I can't. This is fucking delicious” I say, filling my mouth with more food.

“Do it for me, Inés. I don't want our first kiss to be me performing CPR on you because you are choking.”

“What?” 

“See?” Pedri chuckles when half of what I had in my mouth falls to the plate, the other threatening to go the wrong way. Such a lady, Inés…

But did you hear what he just said? Like, did you? Our first… Holy shit. 

“So… Umm…” I say when I manage to properly swallow. “I have something for you. Like an early birthday present.”

“Inés, you didn't have to get me anything.”

“It's nothing. Wait here while I go get it, ok?” I say, getting up from my seat.

“I'm not going anywhere, I promise” he smiles. 

“Like I said, it's nothing” I say when I'm back, my hand shaking a bit when I give him the envelope with his present.

“A Spider-Man birthday card?” he laughs.

“It fits you. You wore the suit the other day, saved someone's life, Pedro in English is Peter…” I shrug. My other option was one that said “happy birthday, hot stuff”, but we aren't there yet. “The present is inside.”

“Ok…” he says, opening it while I bite my lip. Why is he doing it so slowly? “Inés!” Pedri gasps. “This… you… I… I can't accept this.”

“Of course you can! It's a present!”

“Inés, it is a plane ticket to Tenerife. No, it actually is two since there is one to go there and one to come back to Barcelona.”

“I know.”

“This isn't cheap. I know it better than anyone.”

“But I can afford it, Pedri. I already told you this is nothing. And this isn't me bragging about having money or shaming you because you don't have enough or…” Focus, Inés. Focus. “It's just that you sounded so gutted the other day when you told me that you couldn't spend your birthday with your parents and celebrate their anniversary, that I… I… I didn't like seeing you like that. I don't like seeing you like that, Pedri. So if I can do something to make you smile again, to make you happy, I will” I say, my eyes focused on my hands. Did I just say all that to him? Aloud? Oh… my God.

“Inés…” he says, getting up from his seat. “Inés, look at me” he says again, holding my chin and making me look at him. Have I ever mentioned that he has the most beautiful brown eyes ever? “You don't know how much this means to me. I… Thank you. Thank you very much” Pedri says, his voice cracking a bit before hugging me.

“You're welcome” I whisper as I hug him back, daring to move one of my hands and caress the back of his head, something that makes him hug me tighter as he buries his face on my neck. And he… He is… Oh my God. He is crying. I've made him cry, I… “Sorry.”

“What?” he says, looking up.

“I've made you cry, Pedri. I wanted to make you happy and I've made you cry. I am so stupid…”

“These aren't sad tears, Inés” he smiles, wiping them away. “They are the happiest I've shared in a long time.”

“They… what?”

“This is one of the best birthday gifts I've ever received. I would say the best, but that probably is Iniesta’s Barça shirt when I was a kid” he chuckles. 

“I mean, he won us the World Cup. I can't compete with that.”

“You actually could, you know? Even beat it. You just have to come to Tenerife with me” he smiles.

“What?” I laugh. “Wait, you are serious.”

“Deadly serious. Come with me, Inés.”

“Pedri, I…”

“You are going to have some free days because of the international break, aren't you?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then come with me” he says, putting a lock of hair behind my ear, the feeling of his fingers touching me not helping with the way my head is spinning. 

“I can't, Pedri. Like, you just broke up with Nerea. You can't show up a few days later in front of your parents with a new girl.”

“I never told them about her.”

“You… what?” I say, my eyes definitely looking as if they are about to pop from their sockets.

“Yeah” he shrugs. “They knew that I was seeing someone, but I didn't tell them anything else, if it was serious or not. Only Fer and some of my cousins who follow me on Instagram knew that we were actually dating.”

“And didn't she ask you to meet them?”

“No” he shrugs again. 

“But you were together for almost three years, Pedri. Did you at least meet her parents?”

“I did.”

“And judging by your face, it didn't go well.”

“It didn't, no” he sighs. “We met a couple of times, and I always got the feeling that they thought I wasn't enough for their daughter. Like, her grandfather on her mum's side was a duke or something like that, and the one on her dad's owned a bank in Switzerland. Meanwhile, my parents run a small bar and need to save for months in advance to be able to visit their son.”

“Money doesn't make you a better person, Pedri.”

“I know but… nevermind” he says, shaking his head. “That's in the past now.”

“And it is their loss. Because you are so worth it…” I say, caressing his cheek. “And just judging by what you've told me about your parents, so are they. Nerea's parents wish they had a family like yours and a relationship and love like your parents do.”

“Thank you” he smiles. “But does this mean that you will come meet them?” he asks, his smile turning into a teasing one. “If they are so worth it…”

“I…” Damn it. He's got me there. “But what will you tell them? That I am just a friend?”

“Yeah” he shrugs. Ouch. “Come with me, Inés” Pedri says, closing the space between us a bit more, my heart starting to beat even faster than it already was. “Let me show you my home, the city where I grew up and my favourite places, introduce you to the people I love, to my childhood friends… Let me show you a side of me you haven't seen yet. The canary boy like Carla calls me.”

“Wait, you know about that?”

“Mario told me” he laughs. “C'mon, Inés. Say yes.”

“Pedri…”

“Say yes, please” he says, moving even closer. “Don't make me cheat and do my pouty face. I know you can resist it.”

I mean, who can? Like… those lips? Urgh. 

“Inés…”

“Ok, fine. Fine, I'll go.”

“Really?” he says, his smile growing by the second.

“Yes. I will go to Tenerife with you.”

“Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Pedri!” I laugh when he lifts me in the air and starts spinning around. “You are gonna make me dizzy!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry” he says, putting me down. “I'm sorry. But thank you, Inés. This is gonna be the best trip ever. Thank you.”

“You're welcome” I reply, finding myself smiling as big as he is and even getting excited about it. Though at the same time, there is a part of me that is freaking out because I'm about to meet his family, all while another can't let go of the fact that he said he is going to introduce me as just a friend. Which it is what we are but… What about everything that happened at the party? About what we did and what he said? Did it mean nothing? Did I dream it all? 

“Should we finish our dinner?” he says, letting go of me.

“Yes, of course” I nod before sitting down.

“You are going to love Tenerife, Inés. I promise you” Pedri says, still smiling.

“Yeah” I say before starting to eat again.

Let's just hope I don't regret it all.

[skarloeyspa]

hey everyone

apologies for the radio silence, being a full-time student and also life in general (plus the canada post strike not too long ago) meant i had either no time or energy to focus on getting these charms up for sale. I figured I'd post what little product photos I managed to take before things went a little awry for me (courtesy of my windowsill lol)

Main update is i promise these are coming, again sorry for just the absolute 0 updates as this is my first time committing to something of this scale! some more update rambles under the cut if you're interested. As always thanks for the continued interest!

I'm hoping I'll figure out packaging by end of February (reading week for me) but don't depend on anything. I'm also just a bit nervous shipping to the States in general as I've had multiple failed deliveries to a friend living there in the past (along with some very recent events as I'm sure everyone is aware)

As for shipping outside of North America I'm also a bit worried because well. I can't really just use an envelope because it's not just an acrylic charm, but it's also pretty light so I'm hoping it won't be too expensive? If anyone has any advice for shipping internationally feel free to send a DM or just reply under this post😖😖

I also want to take product photos that are more than just my hand or my very textured, very small windowsill. Thing is I live in Canada, and it's winter right now, so the amount of days where I get lighting that isn't just office white or depression gray are like. Once a week if I'm lucky, and being a full-time third year student I don't exactly have the freedom (or even budget) to go wherever I want or book a studio. Also it's been snowing quite a bit so taking product photos outdoors without me holding the charm just isn't an option anymore

It also doesn't help that the glitters I picked seem to love clinging to skarloey and his giant cookie (as seen in the first photo, when I first got the charms). I had to let mine sit on my desk for a couple days for the static(?) to die down. The clinging also came back when I took the charm outside, so maybe I'll be careful choosing a glitter for the subsequent SR characters lol.

anyway i think that's all from me. again sorry for the radio silence. Let's all hope I eventually figure out a way to get these charms into your hands :]

[brittle-doughie]

So I was in the middle of my daydream about the full history/lore of crk world in general, there's lots of things to unpack but I think I just forgot em already😭 anyways, here's some ideas for the pre-corruption and early off the oven beasts

The beasts' names: Since they're from the first batch of cookies to be made, I think the witches named them based on their ingredients or so, so I pick the already existing cookie-related names for them here.

Whole Wheat cookie

Chai​ Spice cookie

Light Milk cookie

Soft Sugar cookie

Sea Salt cookie

-Headcanon​ that they're the one to defeat the witches, save the other living cookies, somehow split reality to another realm which then becomes earthbread, and uses the knowledge that they had learned from the witches to build civilization there. Hence the cookies in ancient time worshipped them and call them their god.

-They're​ obviously more powerful than normal cookies but I don't think as much as they currently are, the size difference still wasn't much to be noticable at least.

-Light Milk cookie is the smart one, the first one to learn how to use magic and discover how to create/extract life powder, maybe even procreation too. (he ain't blue, just really light cyan)

Um​ spoilers​ ​for newcomers​ -​Time​ travel is a thing in crk appearantly? Ykno,​ with White lily and Dark enchantress thingy. So it's possible for Gingerbrave and the gang to be from the first batches who didn't escaped with the beasts but instead stumbles into the already developed earthbread, somehow.

-fancy colors of the cookies are the side effects of magic maybe? Like, the cookies made by witches (older release cookies like Gingerbrave, Moonlight etc. ) are very average-normal-edible-cookies looking while the ones born on later eons look a bit different.. I swear I'm not trying to—*gets shot*

Spoilers for witch's castle -Since the​ first cookies are witches turned(possessed) cookies, the beasts WILL have beef. Even though in my opinion, they're not the same group of witches that made them, them vengeful asses just don't care. But also, they probably won't going to appear until some time later when the mess of ancient heroess vs no longer heroes starts, if DEVSIS ever going to import them in crk in case witch's castle flops(they fr flops)

Aight​ Reader​ might be coming in as one for the surviving cookies from the early age, seduced all em five great beings, died of old age, revived by one of them gods when they got corrupted and are no longer gods(I bet 20bucks it's SM), beasts got trapped a d they went out to find a way to get them out; just to died again by accident while the beasts still in the tree- no not really change that to sleeping, so then they can wake up again when the tree fucking snaps in half and the beasts break free, with the power of magic or love, a booty call or something like that, now we're back again with a newfound harem trailing behind us. Sweet.

Pinky promise I tried to make this as bearable as possible please don't find and strangle me😔🙏 .💋 anon

Some neat stuff.

[mad-hatter-memes]

Shirts That Go Hard

A collection of dialogue prompts from sentences printed on shirts as seen on the blog shirtsthatgohard. Feel free to adjust quotes as necessary.

TW: Swearing, suggestive references, death references, drug references, just a whole lot of mature references.

"You say...Lesbians eat WHAT!!?"

"I do not serve cunt, I am cunt's servant."

"Contrary to popular belief, I have a dad."

"When I die I might not go to heaven. I don't know if they let cowboys in."

"Do you guys ever think about dying?"

"Sorry I missed church, I was busy practicing witchcraft and becoming a lesbian."

"I went to the Garfield Fan-Con In Cleveland, Ohio and all I got was pregnant."

"I have a lot of thoughts about the 2006 Adam Sandler film "Click"."

"I make my mom sad with my choices every day."

"I gotta see the candy first, then I get in the van. I'm not stupid."

"Your shirt says "Cocaine and Caviar" but your face says "Fish Sticks and Fentanyl"."

"Sorry I shoved a Rice Krispie Treat in your DVD player..."

"My parents said I could be anything, so I became an asshole."

"After all that surgery you are still ugly, and that is what gets me."

"Calling me fat is not an insult. I'm sorry my mom bought groceries and not crack.

"Denny's is just Waffle House for people who don't know how to fight."

"The only thing I like more than reading books is fucking."

"I am going to punch you in the mouth! With my mouth...softly...because I like you."

"You constantly amaze me, but not in a good way."

"If she is your girlfriend, why is she playing with my mullet?"

"What have you done to deserve your legs?"

""What's Updog?" how about you shut the fuck "Updog"?"

"I feel like 2007 Britney..."

"Jesus loves you, but I don't. Go fuck yourself."

"I don't know what's wrong with me but I can name several prescription medications that haven't helped."

"Sorry for having great tits and correct opinions."

"Everything I want to do is illegal!"

"I haven't lost my virginity, because I never lose."

"I ain't afraid to love a man. I ain't afraid to shoot one either."

"I believe in you! I also believe in Bigfoot so don't get too excited."

"Jesus loves you. It's just the rest of us who think you're an asshole."

"I just took 12 gas station dick pills and now I'm on my way to Applebee's."

"You can go to hell, I'm going to Toyotathon."

"I wish Italians were real..."

"Not now, sweetie. Mommy's cyberbullying the mayor."

"Baby girl you're so damn fine. Though, I'm trying to know if I can hit you with a pinecone.

"In this group is a Fox News viewer. Can't find them? That's because they live among us, be afraid..."

"You're not a "Bad Bitch", you're a bad person."

"If there's no Bingo in heaven, I'm NOT going."

"Toes are just thicker fingers."

"I'm gonna identify as a fucking problem."

"At least get me some coffee before you start in with your horseshit."

"You're twisted, perverted, and sick...I like that in a person!"

"I don't need life, I'm high on drugs!"

"Hating popular things doesn't make you an interesting person."

"Sorry princess, I only date women who might stab me."

"Kindly keep your bullshit to your fucking self."

"We're all trying to kill time, while time kills us."

"What the fuck is really going on?"

"If you heard anything bad about me, believe all that shit and leave me the fuck alone."

"Bigfoot is real and he tried to eat my ass."

"If you think I'm a bitch, you should meet my sister."

"Sweating sucks, I'd rather be embraced by the cold chill of autumn."

"Oh I don't drink, just drugs for me thanks!"

[bitbybitwrites]

First one of the year!

Thanks for tagging me for WIP Wednesday and Six/Seven/Several Sentence Sunday ( i hope i didn't forget anyone!):

@alasse9, @porcelainmortal, @sophie1973, @onthewaytosomewhere

I'm plugging away at 3 WIP simultaneously at the moment. ( 2 Klaine and 1 FirstPrince) So here's a wee bit from each below the cut . . .

1.) If I Can Make Your Heart My Home (Klaine fic) (cc @datshitrandom)

Blaine reached for Kurt’s  pants, blindly fumbling with the fastening as  he kissed Kurt harder.  “Too many clothes,” he grumbled impatiently as he maneuvered Kurt off his lap and onto his back so Blaine could tug his jeans downward. “Now that sounds familiar, “ Kurt piped up with a sly grin as he gave his hips a little shimmy to help Blaine a bit with his tight fitting pant removal. With a cry of triumph, Blaine peeled Kurt free from both his jeans and underwear in one go.  He paused for a moment to admire Kurt, illuminated from the moonlight streaming though the windows as he splayed out on the bed.  Kurt was beautiful, a vision . . .slightly flushed and staring at him with not only a heated gaze, that made Blaine’s cock stir in his own pants.  But there was more in those blue eyes: a warmth, a playfulness flickered in them as well as affection, acceptance . . .it took Blaine’s breath away. “Now,” Kurt murmured with a smile as he leaned back on his elbows, watching Blaine.  “I believe one of us is still a bit too dressed for the occasion.”  He tossed a pointed look at Blaine’s still clothed bottom half. Grinning, Blaine quickly shucked off the rest of his clothing so fast, he fell over as he lost his balance.  Kurt laughed out loud as Blaine righted himself and crawled back up the bed. “You ok?” Kurt asked with a glint in his eye.  “Didn’t hurt anything important there, did you?” “Wanna check everything is in working order?” Blaine quipped back with a raised eyebrow as he hovered over Kurt.  His arms held him over the other man, leaning with both hands on either side of Kurt’s chest.

2.) Puppy Love (FirstPrince fic)(cc @omgbarbiegurl)

“Henry.” Liam and June said together. Spencer smirked and he stared at Alex.  “Ooooooh . . . Henry.  Total cutie. Will never forget that time you brought him by and . . .” “Stop!” June said, temporarily halting in her typing to grimace at all three men.  "I DO NOT want to hear about any of my brother’s sexual exploits.  Keep it out of the shelter, boys, please.” Liam cackled as he winked at Alex. “She had you deep clean the entire exam room afterward, right?” “Been there," Spencer quipped, waggling his eyes at Liam.  “Done that.” Alex snorted. “Yup. Totally worth it.” June groaned as she dove back into her work.  “ANYWAY . .  what about Henry?” Alex's fingers flew again, tapping another staccato beat against the side of his coffee mug. “Is it too soon to . . um. . .you know," Alex cleared his throat loudly. "Uh, do you think its too soon to introduce him to everyone . . Raf in particular . . . and maybe even Mom and Dad?” Liam whistled.  “You’re going to throw Henry into that whirlwind?  Wait.  Does he even know about Raf?” “Uh . . . um. . .well, you see, . .” “Alejandro Gabriel Claremont-Diaz!” Alex winced as his sister stood up, leaned over the desk and smacked him upside his head.  “Ow . . Bug . . !” he whined, rubbing the sore throbbing temple. “Why haven’t you told him?!” “I . . just . . it hasn’t . . .um. . .come up?” Liam and Spencer both groaned in tandem.  “Seriously?” Liam said. “You can’t wait too long.  It's going to look suspicious, like there was a reason you were deliberately hiding the kid from him.” Alex sighed put down his coffee mug and pulled out his phone and began fiddling with it. A recent picture of him and Raf lit up the home screen, both of them smiling with the a snowy backdrop behind them. “Look, " Alex sighed. "I just want to be careful about introducing a new guy into Raf’s life . . .  the kid’s had a lot of change already with the move to New York and starting of a new school and all . . ." Alex began worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, a small furrow appearing on his forehead. "It's big . . I mean I tested the waters with him about me dating and he's cool with that . . but. . .what if Raf gets all attached and . . . like, say it doesn’t work out and . . then both my kid and I are miserable. I just don't want to let him down, you know?”

3.) missed connections (Klaine) ( cc @cryscendo)

Blaine’s brow furrowed as the horse drawn streetcar rumbled down the busy Manhattan streets.  He continued to quickly scribble into the open sketchbook on his lap, pausing only momentarily to scratch his nose and glance upward at the other passengers near him. A small giggle drew his attention right away.  The little girl sitting across from him was staring.  Her eyes sparkled with merrily as she hid her mouth behind her hands and tittered once more.  Next to her, the child’s mother also appeared amused, smiling at Blaine as she slowly tapped her finger on her nose. Blaine blushed as he quickly fished a well worn handkerchief from his pocket, folding it deliberately as to  protect the delicately embroidered monogram.  He carefully brushed it across his face, and inspected it to find a small smudge of his charcoal pencil upon it. “Many thanks, little miss, “ Blaine said with a sheepish grin as he carefully tucked the handkerchief away in his inner jacket pocket.  “And to think I would have gone into my first day at work with a smudge on my nose if you hadn’t let me know!” “Where are you going?  What do you do?” the little girl asked curiously as she tugged on her pinafore, her legs swinging lightly as she sat on the seat opposite him Blaine beamed. “Nothing special.  I’m heading to one of the magazines here in the city.  They’ve asked me to come draw for them.”  Blaine looked down at the rough sketches in his notebook.  He quickly ripped out a couple of pages and gave them to the little girl and her mother. “Oh my,” the young mother said, as she gazed at the sketches.  “These are lovely.” “It’s you, momma!” the little girl said excitedly as she stared at the drawings.  “And you as well, my dear,” the young woman said as she reached into her small reticule and pulled out a gold half eagle to pass on to Blaine. “Oh no, ma’am,” Blaine said waving the offered money away.  “Thank you but . . well I appreciate it, but I just enjoy making art.”  Blaine quickly bent down to retrieve a small worn rag doll that had fallen at the child’s feet.  He dusted it off and presented it other with a flourish.  “No exchange of money necessary.” The little girl’s forehead furrowed as she clutched her dolly closer.  “But won’t they give you money when you draw for the magazine?” The young woman’s eye’s twinkled as she playfully tugged at her daughter's  hair.  “Well, she’s got you there.” “Well that’s just a sheer coincidence that I get to be paid for doing something I love.” Blaine said, winking at the little girl, enjoying her giggles again.

Tagging to play ( only if you want to - no pressure! )

And of course this applies to the lovely folks who tagged me at the top of this post.

AND BIG open tag if anyone wants to jump in and share:

@getmehighonmagic , @annepi-blog, @iboatedhere, @myheartalivewrites , @14carrotghoul

@blueeyedgrlwrites, @wowbright, @forabeatofadrum, @coffeegleek, @theprinceandagcd

@gleefulpoppet , @special-bc-ur-part-of-it , @daisyishedwig @sarkyblueeyes , @hkvoyage

@tinyarmedtrex, @1908jmd , @sparklepocalypse @spaceorphan18, @firstprincehornyramblings

@kirakiwiwrites , @cha-melodius @yadivagirl, @lady-divine-writes, @cryscendo @emeryhall

@rockitmans, @madas-ahatters-world , @little-escapist @thesleepyskipper @caterpills

@nocoastposts, @theprinceandagcd , @thinkof-england , @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

@blurglesmurfklaine @blueeyedgrlwrites

[snippydippy]

So, Tiktok's back. After only about ten hours.

When it went down (several hours ahead of schedule, as if plans had to be moved forward), we got a notice praising trump for trying to help the app, and a video from Tiktok's CEO expressing the same sentiment.

This was already a massive red flag to me. Trump was the one who started the TikTok ban idea in the first place. It was literally a part of his campaign after TikTok was used to prove he was lying about his rally attendance numbers.

Despite this, Tiktok has been given a 90-day extension by the Trump administration. This 90-day extension is contingent on a deal already being in motion to sell Tiktok (in full or in majority shares), to an American company.

The CEOs for both TikTok and Meta are expected to be at Trump's inauguration tomorrow. Facebook also started pushing a "link your meta to Tiktok" option the day before the ban took place, and they now have an official Tiktok page after keeping the two companies as strictly separate competitors for years. It is my belief that this all points to Mark Zuckerberg having bought/merged with TikTok. Something that had likely been planned for a while, with last night's brief and early shut-down being a stunt to upset all of us who've come to rely on TikTok for a variety of reasons.

Whether you're one of the 7 million content creators or small business owners who legitimately earned your living off the app, or simply a part of the 170 million Americans (half the fuckin' country) who became attached to it from healthy community interaction, news dependency, or even a toxic addiction to it's quick and easy dopamine (I am a mix of all of these, personally), the ban going into affect last night likely caused you an amount of stress. Anguish, even, depending on your situation.

But now, as of this morning, Trump is suddenly our savior. After about two years of him pushing his opinion that Tiktok should be banned, now one of the richest men in the country and his company stands to benefit from Tiktok sticking around. And so will Trump, with Zuckerberg's money in his pocket.

I'm glad it's back, truly. I love Tiktok and the people I've met there, the communities fostered and the hard-working Americans who've found success on the platform. However, selling to Meta is NOT good.

Zuckerberg is nothing but an elite POS. He does not care about you, his company and all of his apps have ALWAYS been more predatory with your data than Tiktok EVER was. Meta has collected more of it, sold it to more advertisers and private investors with an interest in the public's free-time habits, and has done nothing if not try to monopolize your presence online.

Tiktok's algorithm may end up changing. It may end up having to bend to Meta's whims. Less personalization, more of your data being sold to advertisment that we might see an increase in. Shadow-bans, community muffling, news censorship and political biases being promoted, etc.

I don't know what I suggest doing about this. Even though it would be the best move, I would be a hypocrite to say "remove all meta associated apps from your phone." I can't delete my Facebook/meta account. Not without dedicating a flashdrive or several to saving pictures, videos and posts as pieces of my life from the past 15 years I have been on this website. I know many others feel the same, there isn't really anywhere else we can go. That is by design.

I know RedNote is where a lot of folks went, and I genuinely think the cultural exchange on that app between American and Chinese citizens is a wonderful thing, but I do not feel right about signing up for an app that is explicitly owned by the Chinese government anymore than I would on an app explicitly owned by our own (which, Meta practically is. They just get to hide behind a thin veil of a "private company". One that can pay to control political decisions. Our government is its own private company, but I digress). Bluesky might be the best alternative, but its Twitter-like format is annoying to me, personally.

TL;DR

I guess all of this is just to say; Don't fall for this shit. It's all extremely fishy and smells like Trump raising his approval rating with young voters, and Zuckerberg extending his reach over the way we all connect with each other and raising his net worth. Please stay as aware as you can.

More than just a "haha funny app", TikTok grew to be the most important way that hundred of millions of Americans connected with each other.

It is how WE THE PEOPLE connect. Potentially losing it to yet another leading company in the oligarchy our country truly is, its a blow to all of us, regardless of what political party you identify with.

[lunarharp]

played dragon age 2...just simple scribbles