#but the writing is so good that players are able to connect to it

[ittybitsysword]

Baldur’s Gate 3 really proves that you don’t need to have a perfectly working game for it to get fan support, you just have to actually listen to your players and make something with love and care

AND HAVE GOOD WRITING….

[maximumzombiecreator]

While it's far from the worst cultural shift in TTRPGs, it really is a shame how much the mainstream standard for prewritten adventures has shifted from short adventure modules to massive hardcover campaigns.

Short modules are just so much better for the types of adventures that most mainstream TTRPGs are good at: you arrive at a place, it's Weird, you meet some cool people, it turns out there's a fucked up little situation going on, you get involved and blow up the situation in whatever way best suits your characters, and then The Adventure Continues. Depending on what happened in the adventure, the GM might decide to bring elements of it back in the future: NPCs you vibed with (or hated), places that you made a connection with, elements of the situation you left unresolved, whatever. Or not! No pressure, because the next adventure is going to be a new weird place with a new fucked up little situation.

Long campaigns, by contrast, constantly need to constrain the players so that they can keep the campaign relatively coherent. Even the ones that work hard not to railroad the players have to limit their ability to impact things so that the players don't somehow avert chapter 10 by doing something way back in chapter 3. And often, this results in very weak connective tissue throughout the adventure, with the character mainly doing what they are told by NPCs who are the ones with the real stake in things. After all, how can the PCs be the main characters when the adventure must be written with no idea of who they are?

And then this in turn feeds this culture where, actually, the Good GM homebrews their own campaign. That way they can actually center the PCs, and not railroad them, and throw out everything they prepped when the PCs refuse to engage with plot hooks and do completely unrelated stuff, because that is the opposite of running the big boxed adventure.

But actually, incorporating the creativity of other writers into your game is great. You can get so much mileage from taking someone else's fucked up little situation and tweaking one or two things to put it in your campaign. You can center the PCs so much when you don't need to protect future story arcs, you can just throw them in the mix and let them do main character shit. It's great.

Most importantly, though, I think more people should be able to have the brain chemistry-altering experience of not knowing what you're going to run next week, and being in the local game shop browsing shelves of dozens of fucked up little situations with some Brom-ass art on the covers and mostly terrible writing peppered with ideas that will stay in your brain forever.

[hon3y-y]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ “pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin’ me NyQuil…”

Suguru x fem!reader

Suguru used to swear off relationships, he liked to fuck and labels were exhausting. He felt strongly about this, until he had met you. He liked the intimacy, the connection, and the safety he felt with you. At times, he wondered the possibility of soulmates with the way you two seemed to fit into each other so naturally.

Your pussy being able to put him in a coma was just a bonus.

Suguru had sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes shut tight as he felt the warm stickiness of your wet cunt wrapped tightly around his thick cock. The feeling of Suguru's tip hitting your cervix nearly made you stop breathing. His cock leaking into you as he whined into your ear, “so fuckin’ good!” getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in. He had you in missionary, wanting needing to see your reactions every time he pounded into you roughly. Your nails dug into his soft skin, your mouth wide open letting cries of pleasure bounce on the wall.

“Guru’, R-right there!” You let out a silent scream as a strong pressure fills your cunt. He sped up, biting your shoulder to hush his own moans and indulge in yours. “wa-it, suguru!—“ you gasped, trying to push him away. He laughed breathily at your attempts, pinning your hands above you head as your eyes began to water. “Nuh uh, not going anywhere..” moving one hand to your waist to lift you up a little, perfectly battering the most sensitive part of you. You squirmed as your vision started to blur, the intense feeling made your legs shake and release liquid from your swollen and puffy pussy. You laid there lifeless, trying to breathe as suguru pulled away to watch the way you twitched.

“Look at this pussy~” he cooed when you tried to close your legs, his fingers too much for how sensitive you’ve become. He pulled them apart, a sadistic look in his eye as he let a glob of cool spit land on your soaked cunt, using his thumb to spread it. You bit your lip to hold back a whine, your back arching off the bed. “Is it too much?” Your glossy eyes met his and you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your lips, “you still gonna’ help me cum?” You paused before nodding again, a little sniffle coming from you when you felt his dick grind against you.

“Such a good girl, my perfect girl..” he praised, pulling back to watch his tip push into you again. He looked at the way your brows furrow, a small whimper leaving your glossy lips. Suguru smirked before shoving himself into you fully, taking a sharp intake of breath and letting his head roll back, “fu—uck..”

you immediately tried to pull away only for him to grab your soft hips. “Don’t run baby—you can take it.” His voice strained, fucking into you harder than before, finally chasing his own release. His hand wrapped around your throat, your voice squeaking up higher as you begged for him to use you. You reached up to tweak his nipples making a shiver run up his spin, a choked moan escaping him. “That’s it baby, take that fuckin’ dick.”

He curled himself into your neck when he came, continuing his rutting to work the both of you through your orgasms. He came a lot, purring as you whispered affirmations to him. “Love your pussy..” he muttered into your ear, kissing your neck while trying to level his breathing and wrap his arms around you. You smiled and played with his hair, knowing how much he loves the feeling.

After noticing how quiet it got, you got suspicious. “suguru?” Looking down, only to notice he had fallen asleep, still inside of you and on top of you. You groaned and rolled your eyes, “get up! suguru?! You do this every time-“ you were cut off with a whine and silence again. Maybe you should’ve riden him instead…

A/n; saw some fan art of him and now he won’t leave my mind🛌 also, thinking of writing hockey player!suguru, can’t get the image of him skating with his long hair flowing behind him he’s so fucking fine.

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐍 ✮ PEDRI

summary. your boyfriend loves you more than yesterday but less than tomorrow.

warnings. none just pure fluff. i’m so glad my starboy is back.

gabri speaks! listened to iman by maria becerra and it’s so pedri coded. had to write this immediately.

the herd of sweaty players heading through the tunnel to their respective locker rooms was a surreal sight. this was the biggest assignment you had gotten in the three years of you working for a sports journalism column. obviously you knew your boyfriend had a hand in the big step and often received sly remarks from the coworkers you had never gotten along with because of it. luckily for you, you had never been one to undermine yourself or listen to the comments of others.

there was also your boyfriend who would constantly read your pieces out loud and compliment you on your endless knowledge of the sport and plethora of creative words. it was like having your own personal editor. you yearned for the nights before his breaks where the two of you would cozy up in front of the tv revising your works in progress.

“why can’t you ever write about me like this? actually why can’t you write about me period?” he would whine with his flushed cheeks making a special appearance.

“i don’t write about you because they only have me covering the scandinavian leagues.” you said matter-of-factly.

“just tell them you’re dating me.” he would always say.

you never did but with the spanish press it was inevitable that your relationship would see the light of day. your world had flipped instantly and you found yourself on the next flight to germany. it took you a lot of reassuring words to help you understand that you deserved to be there. your boyfriend didn’t write your pieces for you, you did, you were the important figure. so, there you stood with a mic patiently waiting for the player you’d be interviewing to show up.

your co-worker had failed to mention who you’d be interviewing which had you scrambling for various questions to ask. you were fortunate to have an extensive vocabulary for different positions so you were sure that no matter who you’d be talking to your manage to make them comfortable. when you’re met with incredibly pink cheeks you realize why your cameraman was so giddy on the walk towards the tunnel. they were making you interview your own boyfriend.

“live in one!” your cameraman yells loud enough for everyone to hear.

“you’re such a dick!” you quietly scold pedri who’s currently smirking at you.

“you wouldn’t have done it if you knew.” he shrugged and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because it was true.

you notice the cameraman counting down from three and quickly regain your composure. it’s fascinating for your boyfriend seeing how well you hide your affection for him. this is the first time he’s ever seen you in action and it’s quite mesmerizing the way the lights make you glow and how well you speak. somehow with all the chaos surrounding you two and the sweat dripping off his forehead you’re more beautiful than ever. it must be because you’re in your element he thinks.

“croatia has really done a great job of keeping the ball outside their box, do you think you guys will be able to break through?” you move the mic towards him waiting for an answer.

“of course i mean my connection with rodri is just working super for well for us i think we’ll be able to advance through the midfield more in the second half. modric will not make it easy but that’s why we’re here, to stop him.” he pants.

“lamine has been excellent throughout the first half how do you plan on using him to improve the play?” you scramble to say as time is running out.

“well lamine is excellent with the ball i think he’ll able to get us far into their zone. it’s really a team effort. he’s probably ecstatic right now and that’ll definitely help us.” he answers.

“thank you pedri. good luck in the second half.” your words contain honesty and you give him the most sincere smile.

“thank you, hermosa.” he compliments you on live television.

you want nothing more than to slap him but his hands around your hips take you by surprise. his lips are so close to yours and you immediately forget the camera is still rolling. it’s a quick peck but it’s a kiss nothing less. it’s your turn to display your flushed cheeks. in the blink of an eye he’s gone and you’re left alone to deal with the aftermath. you hear your coworkers tease you through your earpiece and the cameraman is currently laughing at you. you’re quick to redirect to the anchors back at headquarters. that night you and pedri make headlines for your performance in the tunnel.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Return

Batter Up Chapter 7

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: After a month of being away from the game and the girl he loves, Joel Miller is back and ready to play. Warnings: smut, making a sex tape, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (reader has an IUD), cream pie, also regular pie, joel miller's dirty mouth, wine. Words: 5,000

A/N: Thank you to my dearest @devineconjuring and her beautiful brain for beta'ing and being my grammar goddess.

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

The crowd chants Joel’s name, lights flicker through the stadium, the ground feels like it’s shaking beneath his feet. He loves this feeling—the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, the loud crowd drowning out every doubt he’s ever felt. After three weeks on the injured list and another week rehabbing in the minors–a month away from the big leagues–Joel Miller is back.

He walks to the plate, digging his heels into the dirt and tapping his bat against the plate as he soaks in the moment. 

“Miller, good to see you back,” the catcher says.

Joel nods, and grunts an acknowledgment back.

His eyes settle on the pitcher, some young phenom throwing 99-mph with almost every pitch. Don’t worry kid, you’ll get old like me.

The first pitch whooshes past him—ball one. 

Ball two.

Strike one.

The pitcher’s keeping it a little outside, Joel inches closer to the plate, squaring up. The pitcher winds up again, Joel takes a deep breath, feeling the vibration of the bat as it connects with the ball. The crack of the bat reverberates through the stadium as the ball soars past the infield, over the outfield, and disappears beyond the right-field fence.

Home run.

The crowd erupts, the celebratory bell tolls as he rounds the bases. His eyes scan the club box above third base, finding you amidst the cheering fans, your arms raised high, that smile of yours lighting up his heart.

Joel Miller is back, doing what he loves, and now in front of the woman he loves.

__

You’re so proud of him. You wipe the tears from your eyes as Joel’s feet touch home base. His recovery wasn’t easy. Every week away from the game for someone as old as him means double the work versus a young kid just in the game. Forty year olds aren’t known for being pro athletes. 

With the long Labor Day weekend, you were able to take time off from work and travel by train to Philadelphia to witness Joel's celebrated comeback, which had turned into a legend after his grand slam. Suddenly, all of your worries are lifted away. The stress of telling your families that you're a couple, your demanding job as a column writer at Sporting Digest that revolves around the ebb and flow of games, trades, and record breaking moments–none of it matters now.

Your responsibilities at work have been stacking up over the past few weeks. Churning out articles on everything from college football predictions to analyses of NBA draft picks. When you were hired you agreed to not cover baseball, what with the conflict of interest and all. Now, you dream of the headlines you could write about your boyfriend’s triumphant return. 

You’ve barely been able to leave your laptop. Last week, you spent three days shadowing a tennis star at the US Open, scribbling notes on her training and the pressure of being labeled the “next big thing.” You’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone do laundry, go grocery shopping, and, most importantly, be there for Joel. You put in countless hours of work to make this long weekend possible, just so you could witness his big comeback firsthand. 

“Heck of a player that Miller is,” you hear the TV in the corner say. “He sure knows how to show everyone he’s still got it, doesn’t he?” 

You clutch his number dangling from your neck, you’re so proud of him, always proving everybody wrong. Well worth every sacrifice. 

__

The Liberties win, 4-0, all thanks to Joel’s grand slam in the first inning. Sports radio is going to have a field day with this. 

You make your way down to the stadium’s corridors, where staff rush around with more important tasks than yours. 

The Liberties clubhouse sits just ahead of you, the two large blue doors stay closed to onlookers. You rest your back against the cold cinder block wall and send Joel a text, telling him to take his time.

A year ago, you never could’ve imagined this. Joel Miller—rugged, no-nonsense baseball star, the man who occupied your teenage dreams—now your boyfriend. The man who keeps your favorite pasta sauce in his pantry. The man who goes mattress shopping with you. It feels surreal, yet so real at the same time.

Every time that damn blue door opens your heart skips a beat, hoping you’ll find Joel walking out. False alarm after false alarm. 

Until…

Joel emerges, hair slicked back, wearing a gray Liberties shirt, khaki pants, and those cheesy white New Balance sneakers you tease him relentlessly about. Joel, you’re way too rich to be wearing these damn ragged shoes. 

“Hi baby,” he smiles as he wraps his arms around you, pushing you further against the wall. 

“Hi,” you breathlessly respond, smelling the body wash on his skin. Damn, he showered. “Good game.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

You can’t help but smile at how happy he is, back where he belongs, doing what he loves.

“Come on,” he says, pulling you close. “Let’s go celebrate.” His arm stays around your waist as he leads you through the corridors to his car.

It’s so freeing now, being able to cheer for—and love—Joel out in the open, for all eyes to see.

__

“You know you made me cry today, right?” you say, reaching for his hand resting on your thigh.

“I did, huh?” he replies with a smirk on his face.

He always looks so confident as he drives. Philly’s narrow streets, filled with potholes and pedestrians, are nothing like Austin’s, but he navigates them as effortlessly as he does everything else—injuries, tough teammates, media storms. He handles it all like he handles a fastball: with ease.

“Yeah, I’m really proud of you,” you tell him softly, grabbing his hand harder. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m just so happy to be here for you.”

He smiles that quiet Joel smile. “That’s how I feel watching you handle everything too.”

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, noticing you're not on the route to his apartment. “I hope I’m dressed okay,” you say, looking down at your simple red gingham dress. 

"It’s a surprise. You’ll be fine, you look beautiful baby," he says.

The car winds through the city. You glance over, watching the city lights flicker across his face as the car turns off the main road, slipping into a quieter neighborhood.

The car pulls up to a small, unassuming brick building tucked away on a quiet side street. No flashy sign, no valet—just a discreet, vintage lantern hangs above the door. It’s definitely a place Joel prefers. 

He turns off the car and turns to you, his hand still resting on your thigh. “Thought we’d keep it low-key,” his deep voice rumbles in the quiet of the car.

You nod, your smile widening. “Perfect.”

He steps out of the car and, ever the gentleman, comes around to open your door before guiding you toward the entrance. You wrap your arm around his, leaning into his warmth as he leads you inside.

—

“Mr. Miller, welcome to Vetri Cucina. We’re happy to have you here. Let me show you to your table.”

“Silvio," Joel says with a firm handshake. "Good to see you. Thanks."

Your eyes scan the cozy space. Shiny worn floorboards, warm amber walls, a glistening chandelier that hangs from the low ceiling–you’ve never seen a place like this before. Little did you know that behind the unassuming brick row home exterior there would be a whole functional restaurant. It feels like the perfect mix of a place for the two of you, rustic and intimate.

Silvio leads you both up a narrow staircase to a private room on the second floor. A table for two sits in the center of the room. A red glass chandelier hangs above it, candlelights flickering shadows across the golden walls.. 

“So, we’re still hiding our dinners with each other away from prying eyes?” you tease as Joel pulls the chair out for you and you take a seat.  

“Not exactly,” he says, taking your hand in his. “I just wanted to show off that I can get us a private table at one of the best restaurants in Philly.”

You laugh. “I’m sure there’s a Golden Corral around here.”

Joel chuckles. “Very funny. But trust me—you’ll love it here. They’ve got all the fancy dishes with those French words you like.”

“You know me too well.”

“Better than you think,” he says, his eyes gleaming under the golden light.

—

A waiter approaches, a polished smile on his face. “Good evening, and welcome. My name is Royal, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. We have a special tasting menu prepared just for you, personally selected by our chef. It’ll start with an appetizer, followed by a pasta course, a main, and dessert.” 

Your mouth waters as Royal pours you a glass of wine. 

”Each course will be paired with a wine from our grand collection. Your first course will be out shortly. In the meantime, is there anything else I can bring you?”

Joel shakes his head. “We’re all set, thanks.”

“Wow,” you say once the waiter leaves, glancing around the elegantly set table. “I feel a little underdressed for a tasting menu.”

Joel shrugs. “I have a feeling they won’t care what we’re wearing once I pay the bill. Besides,” he says with a smile, “I like you in that red dress.”

“Atta boy, Texas,” you say, smiling as you sip your wine.

—

After a couple courses of delicious appetizers that you happily eat, but Joel barely touches, the water returns, presenting the main course with a flourish. 

"For your entrée, we have our signature dish: salt-crusted tilapia with a bread salad of parsley and tomatoes, alongside grilled artichokes on a bed of smoked squash puree."

You glance at Joel as the waiter expertly cracks the salt crust, revealing the perfectly cooked fish underneath. You know Joel hates fish and artichokes. The waiter sets down two glasses of white wine and disappears, leaving you both alone with the dish.

"Baby, what are you going to do?" you ask, eyes wide as Joel picks up his fork.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m here to impress you,” he says with determination before spearing a piece of the fish. He takes a bite, his nose crinkling ever so slightly as he chews.

“How is it?” you ask, biting back a smile.

Joel grimaces. “I’ve had better.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Please don’t eat it. I know the only fish you like is fried.”

“Always been more of a Filet O Fish man myself.”

“I don’t think they’ve got tartar sauce here, so please, for me, don’t force yourself.”

He sets down his fork with a relieved sigh, his hand finding yours again. “Anything for you.”

When the waiter returns, he doesn’t comment on Joel’s barely touched plate, but you notice a subtle, appreciative smile as he clears away your empty dish.

“Well,” you say, leaning back, happy and full from dinner. “At least there’s dessert.”

“Never said no to dessert,” he chuckles, before looking you in the eyes with adoration. 

"You know," he begins, his voice low and serious, "I couldn't have done this without you. Coming back after my injury—”

Joel's voice trails off as he searches for the right words. His eyes stare into yours. You squeeze his hand encouragingly, needing to hear more. 

“It wasn’t just physical,” he continues. “It was mental. Wondering if I still had it within me, if I was too old, if it was time for me to hang up my cleats. But you—you never doubted me for a second.”

Tears pool in your eyes as his thumb brushes back and forth against your knuckles. 

"I’ve always been your fan, Joel. I’ll always believe in you.”

He nods, a small smile lighting his face. “I know, and that’s what got me through. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile through tears. 

The waiter approaches with dessert, you silently thank the interruption so you’re not left sobbing in the middle of this beautiful restaurant over how much you love your boyfriend. 

A familiar slice of pie is placed in front of you and Joel.

“Uppercrust?” you excitedly ask, your eyes widening at the large, glazed pecans laying atop the golden crust. 

Joel gives a shy, satisfied nod, his lips curving into that familiar, gentle smile. "Thought we’d end the night with our favorite. Had Sarah overnight it to the restaurant."

“Jooooel,” you breathe out, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. You stare at the pie, stunned by how deeply he cares for you.

“All for you baby,” he says softly as he lifts his fork and cheers with a playful smile. “Cheers to Austin and that hotel bar.”

You laugh, grabbing your own fork and tapping it against his. “Cheers,” you whisper, trying to steady your voice. 

“Oh my god,” you moan around the fork at the first taste of sweet pie. “I can’t believe you got this. You’re too good to me.”

He barks a laugh. “Baby, this is nothing, I owe you so much.” 

The pie is sweet, but your boyfriend is sweeter. 

The sweet wine served with the pie warms your body, Joel’s smile from across the table warms you even more. You sneakily slip your foot out of its sandal, and run it up his leg, making your way up to his crotch. He jumps in surprise, his eyes leer at you as he takes a sip of wine. Your foot finds its target, against the soft fabric of his pants, thankful for the white tablecloth that hangs from the table. He places a hand on your foot, pushing it closer to his crotch. You giggle as your toes wiggle back and forth, teasing him. 

“So, what’s next?” you ask, with a mischievous grin.

"Well, after we finish dinner, I'll pay the bill, grab some leftover pie for later...and then take you home and fuck you," he responds confidently.

A small hmph escapes your lips at the promise. “Is that so?”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” he replies, a sly grin spreading across his face. He leans in close, his voice lowering to a secretive whisper. “Just think about it—my place, those fancy sheets of mine you love so much…”

His hand wraps around your foot, pressing it harder against him. 

“Now you’re just making me impatient,” you tease. 

—-

The plates are cleared, the leftover pie is boxed up, Joel settles the bill and rises from his seat, extending his hand to help you up. 

Your fingers lace together as you step out into the warm summer night. Joel leads you to his car, unlocking it and opening the door for you. You lean over and seal your mouth over his, relishing in being able to kiss him out in the open. You pull away and give him a smirk before getting in and sliding across the passenger seat, your heart racing with anticipation for the next stop—Joel’s apartment. 

Your time together has been precious and few. Your career keeps you north in New York, Joel’s training and rehabilitation game have kept him busy and all over the states. But now, you finally have three nights together—the most time you've had since his injury a month ago. 

He glances over at you and winks before he adjusts the rearview mirror. You miss his truck back in Austin, the front bench seat allowing you to slide over and cuddle him close. You curse the existence of the center console. 

“Buckle up, baby,” he says with a grin. Your heart races at the double entendre. 

—-

Taking the elevator up to Joel's penthouse brings back memories of that first night together, when you couldn't believe how handsome he looked in that golden elevator at the hotel, not believing you were about to sleep with Joel Miller. Now, his body presses against yours as you lean on him, his head nestled in the crook of your neck as he leaves sweet kisses down your skin to the matching pendant of his number you wear, leaving a kiss against it before his eyes meet yours. 

“I can’t tell you how much I love seeing this on you, baby,” he says before licking his way up to your mouth, sealing his over yours. He grabs your ass, lifting you into his hold, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders. 

The elevator doors open and he carries you into his penthouse, crowding you against the entryway wall. His mouth moves against yours with fervor, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. You gasp against his mouth, the cool wall chilling your overheated skin. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath warm and sweet against your lips. “I’ve missed this—missed you.”

He turns and carries you to the living room. The ambient city lights shining in from the floor-to-ceiling windows light Joel’s way. He gently sets you down on the couch and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer for another kiss.

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, baby,” he whispers against your lips, pausing to look into your eyes.

You nod, breathless and eyes wide. “Please,” you whisper. 

He grins, standing back slightly, taking in the sight of you sprawled on his couch, dress askew. “You look so damn good.” 

His hands rest on the hem of your dress and, with a cocky grin, he slowly lifts it up, exposing the soft skin of your thighs. 

“God, this is all I’ve been thinking about. Drove to the ballpark thinking about you, stepped up to the plate thinking about you, and, baby,when I saw you in the stands… all I could think about was you naked in my arms.” 

“Joel…” you struggle to find the words, already lust-drunk on his words. 

“I need to taste you.” 

He drops down to his knees in front of you, his large fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding them off.

You bite your lip as he grips your thighs and spreads them apart.

He breathes out a deep sigh at the sight of you. A low whistle leaves his lips. “There she is, she’s so fuckin’ pretty.”

He leans closer and places soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasingly slow, making your heart race even faster.

“Joel…” you plead.

He spreads you wider, warm breath teasing against your core. He licks a long, slow line from bottom to top, humming appreciatively at the first taste of you. 

Your back arches, a gasp escaping your lips. "Oh my God," you breathe.

His rough palms grip your thighs, thick fingers digging into the flesh as he holds you steady. His hot breath tickles your skin as he licks you. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against you, his voice vibrating against your cunt. “Missed this taste.” 

His tongue explores you as your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping the soft waves of his dark strands.

Two thick fingers slide inside you, stretching you perfectly. Plush lips close around your clit, sucking and lapping at your sensitive nub.

It's been almost a month since he last touched you like this, and now with his skilled mouth and fingers all over you, your body is ready to let go.

“Joel,” you moan. “C-close.”

He enthusiastically hums against you, deep brown eyes staring into yours from under furrowed brows. His fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit. Your pussy pulses against his thick fingers, squeezing them as you bloom under the pleasure of finally feeling his touch. Goosebumps rise all over your skin, cheeks heating, legs trembling, and your eyes tightly shut… and when he curls his fingers upwards inside you, your orgasm crashes into you, your pussy soaking his hand and your voice screaming his name. He doesn't stop, continuing to lick and tease you through your orgasm until it's all too much and you're pulling at his hair.

He pulls back with a satisfied smile and kisses your inner thigh before standing and placing a kiss on your lips. You taste yourself as he licks into your mouth. His plush lips sucking against yours. 

Before you can catch your breath, Joel scoops you up in his strong arms, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you into his bedroom. You giggle as he smacks your ass and growls. 

He sets you on the edge of his bed, the crisp white sheets cool against your overheated skin. He steps back, his eyes roaming over your body. 

“Stay right there,” he says as he moves to the closet, rummaging around for a moment before returning with a black camera and tripod in hand. 

Your breath catches at the sight as he sets them up, carefully adjusting the angle. 

The tiny red recording light blinks on and the little screen lights up. There you are, all disheveled—dress hiked up, your lips full and swollen from Joel’s mouth. 

His eyes meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, excitement running through your body. “Yes,” you breathe. 

He grins as he removes his shirt, tossing it to the side before he steps out of his pants. He stays behind the camera, standing in the shadows like a director. “Go ahead baby, take it all off.”

You stand slowly, your heart racing at Joel and the camera’s attention. Dark brown eyes watch you intently from behind the camera, his eyes never leaving your every movement. You reach back and unzip your dress, pulling it down, as you slowly slip the straps off, letting the dress fall to the floor, the red gingham fabric pooling at your feet. 

"God, you're gorgeous,” he whispers.

You reach behind to unclasp your bra, staring at Joel as you let it fall away. Your breasts are exposed to his eyes and the camera, your nipples hardening in the cool air. You’re completely bare now except for the necklace with his number. 

"Touch yourself for me, baby," he instructs softly.

You smile, running your hands slowly up your sides, cupping your breasts. Your fingers glide over your nipples, teasing them to stiff peaks before you back up against the bed and lay across it, spreading your legs wide for the camera and Joel. Your hand snakes down your body, across your stomach, down to the apex of your thighs. 

You lock eyes with Joel as you slowly circle your clit, your breath hitching. His gaze is dark from behind the camera, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the outline of his cock straining against his boxer briefs as he watches you pleasure yourself. Your fingers dip lower, sliding into your wet heat.

"That's it, baby," he groans. "Show me how you like to be touched."

Your other hand kneads your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple.

Joel steps out from behind the camera, moving to the edge of the bed. He strips off his boxers, his thick cock springing free. He strokes himself slowly as he watches you.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growls.

You whimper at his words, your fingers moving faster. "Please, baby,” you whine, “I need you."

He grabs your foot and turns you on the cool, slick sheets. Glancing over at the camera’s small display screen to check the angle of your body.  

He climbs on the bed and you instantly welcome the warmth of his presence and his broad body. He positions himself between your legs, gripping his cock and running the head through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Your breath catches as he slowly pushes inside, a smile lighting your face at finally feeling him inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he bottoms out. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me."

You moan as he starts to move, his hips rolling against yours in a steady rhythm. Your hands glide over the expanse of his shoulders and down his muscular back, relishing in feeling the flex of his strong muscles with each thrust.

He leans down, capturing your lips. His tongue tangles with yours as he picks up the pace, fucking you harder. 

"Look at the camera, baby," Joel murmurs against your neck. "Let's show it how good I make you feel."

You tilt your head, looking directly at the camera lens with heavy-lidded eyes. The knowledge that you are being recorded, that Joel will watch this later, that the two of you will get off while watching yourselves… it’s a new thrill for you. You moan louder, arching your back higher as Joel fucks you. 

"Touch yourself for me," he commands.

Your hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. 

"Oh god, baby," you moan, your fingers working furiously at your clit as he pounds into you. "I'm so close."

Joel's rhythm falters slightly as he watches you touch yourself, sweat glistening on his brow. "That's it. Cum for me. Let me feel you."

Your voice echoes through the room as you cry out Joel’s name, your body trembling as your walls clench tightly around him. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips snapping against yours. “So fucking good, you cum so fucking good for me. So fucking tight.”

He pulls your body towards him, sitting up on the bed, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You take control and ride him, your legs wrapping around his waist as you grind down on him. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding you.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need from me,” he growls.

Your hands tangle in the short waves of his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues exploring each other’s mouths, bodies glistening with sweat.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his nose bumping against yours. “I love you. God damn baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you moan as he thrusts up into you.  

He captures your lips again. “I’m close,” he groans against your mouth. “Cum with me baby. Give me one more.”

His hand snakes down between your bodies, his thumb finds your clit, rubbing firm circles against it as you bounce on his cock. 

You cry out his name as you orgasm, Joel’s fingers and cock working in tandem to push you over the ledge. You turn your head to the camera, staring into it as you chant Joel’s name while your walls clench around his cock. 

“Oh fuck baby,” Joel groans, his hips stuttering. “I’m gonna cum for you.”

In one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he chases his own release. Your hands run down his back, feeling the flex of his muscles with each thrust.

"Cum for me, Joel, I want to feel you cum inside me."

With a final and deep thrust, Joel stills above you. He groans your name as he empties himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt. He fills you with his release, still gently fucking you with soft thrusts, pushing his seed deeper inside you. 

He leans over and grabs the camera, his cock still plunged deep inside you. With a sly smile, he films your face, capturing the bliss across it.

“Look at you,” he admires, “smiling all sweetly, all drunk on my cock and cum, aren’t you baby?”

You moan a response and nod eagerly. 

He chuckles as he pulls out, shuffling his body down to settle in between your legs. Joel positions the camera between your thighs, spreading them apart and running a finger through your cunt, swollen and slick with his spend pulsating out of you.

“Look at you, leakin’ everywhere,” he groans, collecting himself across his fingers and sticking it inside you. “Can’t have that, now can we?” 

His eyes stay focused on the little screen, watching his fingers pump in and out of your overworked cunt. 

“Fuckin’ filthy baby,” he angles his fingers, your slick squelches loudly across the room. 

Writhing and whining under his touch, your skin is overheated, your pussy radiating heat across your body. 

He pulls his soaked finger out, wiping it across your folds. “Show me how you drip baby, let me see.” 

A gush of his cum leaks out of you, the warm liquid runs down your ass, pooling on the bed. 

“Fucccccccccck,” he growls. “Can’t stop looking at this.” 

He zooms out, capturing your whole body in the frame. 

“Tell me whose pussy this is,” he instructs.

“Yours,” you breathlessly respond.

“That’s it baby,” he growls, before his eyes lift from the camera and into yours. “I love you,” he softly says, his eyes rounding in reverence. 

“I love you too.”

He grins, standing up from the bed and switching off the camera before placing it down on the bedside table.

“That was incredible,” you sigh. “I can’t believe we just did that.” 

A smile spreads across his face as he leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips. "We'll have to watch it later," he says before heading to the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and gently wipes between your legs, before planting a kiss on your forehead and turning to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” you slur, too blissed out of your mind. 

“To get pie. I’m starving.”

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

[livingslime]

Frequently asked questions

When will the full game be released?

The release date for the full version is still to be announced. I work on this visual novel in my free time, so progress may vary. Currently, the project is in its early stages, making it difficult to project a completion date. As development progresses and I get closer to finishing, I hope to have a clearer timeline.

Is MC really in a hospital?

It is intentionally ambiguous whether the MC is truly in a hospital. The absence of nurses and Dr. Anselm being the only one attending to the MC are deliberately meant to provoke player suspicion. This mystery and the setting’s true nature are meant to unravel in later chapters.

Where did the MC's pee go?

The MC has a urinary catheter, a medical device used to drain urine from the bladder into an attached collection bag.

Urine collection bags connected to a catheter are typically changed every 5 to 7 days.

In the later chapters, there will come a time when Anselm has to change the MC's peepee bag.

Does MC actually need a urinary catheter?

In cases of severe traumatic brain injury (TBI), a urinary catheter may be necessary, especially in the early stages of recovery. TBI can lead to a range of symptoms, including impaired mobility, cognitive changes, or decreased control over bodily functions.

Also MC was unconscious for 2 days before waking up, catheters are commonly used for unconscious patients.

Will MC ever take a shower?

Yes I was planning to use this as content for later chapters.

Fun fact : Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) patients in hospitals usually do not take showers independently, especially if they are in a critical or unstable condition. Instead, they are often given sponge baths or bed baths by staff to maintain hygiene without moving them too much, which could be risky. huehue

Will there be an ending where MC and Anselm are together?

Yes, absolutely! There will be an ending where MC and Anselm end up together. These endings will naturally come at the game's conclusion, and as I get closer to writing the finale, I'll have a clearer idea of how many good and bad endings there will be in total.

Was Anselm the one to cause MC's injury?

So this mystery is also to be unfolded in the later chapters. I hope readers understand that this visual novel has mystery/horror elements, there wouldn’t be much of a story if I revealed everything outright (ᗒᗨᗕ)

Does Anselm love the MC or just taking care of them?

Anselm's heart belongs entirely to the MC; they're the only one he truly loves.

Is Anselm a dog or cat person? or any other animal?

Anselm doesn’t usually keep pets, as he’s often away and lacks the time to care for one. But if he and the MC were living together and the MC wanted a pet, he would happily bring one home and enjoy caring for it together with them.

If he could, Anselm would create a beautiful bird terrarium—a place where he could observe them freely within a controlled space. There, they’d be safe, unable to leave but he alone is able to admire their beauty.

[dare-to-dm]

Types of players I really enjoy running games for

Players who write extensive backstories. Provided they're willing to work with me to make sure their story fits into the lore for my setting, I love hearing all about their OC's personal history. I live for the drama and the passion and enjoy finding ways to work it into my campaign.

Players who do voices. I love it when people get into character and try and bring some theatricality to the table. I admire their commitment and the courage it takes to perform.

Players who cleverly use the mechanics for teamwork. It's always satisfying when a player strives for system mastery, but it's particularly pleasing to me to see a player that is able to take advantage of the mechanics to produce strong synergy with the other players. I love rewarding this kind of play.

Players who fail graciously. I love it when a player sees a critical fumble as an opportunity for drama or comedy instead of something to be avoided at all costs. This is what it looks like to be a good sport.

Players who match my vibes. I really appreciate it when a player reads the room and plays their their character accordingly. Who is silly when I want to be silly and serious when I want to be serious and supports me in building and maintaining an engaging atmosphere.

Players who pay attention. I am so grateful when players let me finish my narration and take notes and connect the dots.

Inexperienced but enthusiastic players. It's so much fun running for people who are new to the game. I love being the one to introduce them to this hobby and show them how much fun it can be. Most of the time, their excitement more than makes up any awkwardness that comes with learning the game.

There are probably some things I'm forgetting, but this post is getting long enough as it is. You all are a delight and I love having you at my table.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Top Gun: Maverick Fic Recs

Hey y'all! Here are 21 of my favorite TGM fanfics of all genres and ships, listed in no particular order.

Some of these fics are 18+ so read at your own risk. None of these works are mine and all credit goes to the amazing authors! <3

X READER

Safe Zone by @sunlightmurdock — (Series // Rooster and Hangman x reader)

A team of elite naval aviators holding down the fort at the North Island Air Base while they wait for reinforcements after a virus sweeps the continental U.S. - only, it’s been three months and no one has shown up.

Hold My Hand by @labyrinth-runner — (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

Jag! Reader is assigned to defend a pilot, finding the job to be more complicated than she thought.

Rooster’s Flight or a Manual for the Marooned by DontLetThemTakeYouAlive (Series // Rooster x Reader/OC)

"Rooster's Flight: A Manual for the Marooned" follows Madeline, a pastry chef escaping scandal in Amsterdam, and Bradley, a lost naval aviator stationed in Japan. Fate brings them to sunny San Diego, where their friendship blossoms amid career challenges and a clashing of characters. Madeline's culinary journey intertwines with Bradley's self-discovery, navigating love and loss.

Resilience, self-discovery, and the unpredictable paths of career and matters of the heart shape their narrative in this tale of second chances and unlikely connections.

Fine Piece by @dragon-kazansky (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

You have it bad for Vice Admiral Simpson. But to prove you’re fit for the job; you need to put that aside and focus on the flying.

Someone Special by @fanboygarcia (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

What happens when the Dagger Squad catches on to the fact that known grump turned lovesick fool Admiral Simpson has someone special in his life?

Invisible String by @halfway-happyyy (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

the one where rooster’s about to leave on a mission he doesn’t know if he’ll be back from, and he wants you in every way imaginable. as always, soft feelings ensue! 

Do you wanna make somethin’ of it by @theharddeck (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

@bullet-prooflove's entire TGM masterlist

Everything she writes is outstanding, but the Beau x Ally fics (The First Time Series, The General Series, Deployment!Series, and Syria!Series) are something I think about literally everyday.

i don’t know, blame the air force? by @gretagerwigsmuse (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

There Are Rules by @tongue-like-a-razor (Series // Maverick x Reader)

Your risky flying seriously pisses off your instructor at Top Gun and you're about to find out why.

Through the Hourglass by @bratshaws (Series // Rooster x OC)

Rooster x Plus Size OC!

Happy Birthday, Mr. President by @rhettabbotts (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

after a hard week, the last thing bob wanted to do was attend his birthday party. so instead, he plays out one of his biggest fantasies with you.

Whoever's in Lemoore by @cherrycola27 (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

A fic based on the Reba McEntire song "Whoever's in New England"

Angels Don't Always Have Wings by @bradshawssugarbaby (Series // Rooster x Reader)

a series of oneshots revolving around baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)

Do I? by @bradshawssugarbaby (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

Inspired by Do I? by Luke Bryan. (this fic was so good I had to go take a walk after reading it for the first time)

Road to Perdition by @sailor-aviator (Series // Hangman x Reader)

The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

His Best Friend's Wedding by @ereardon (Series // Rooster x Reader)

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right? 

OTHER SHIPS

Mistaken Identity by @ladylanera — (TGM x Mission: Impossible crossover)

What should be a joyous homecoming quickly unravels after it's discovered a nefarious, unknown group has put a hit out on Captain Mitchell, mistaking the Navy captain for being a covert IMF operative by the name of Ethan Hunt who has an uncanny likeness to the captain for some reason. Enter a twisty web of lies that threaten the very existence of the family as we know it.

**Fic contains spoilers for Mission: Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One**

Flower Power by ReformedTsundere — (Icemav)

Flowers, Pete reminds himself, slamming the last of the books closed, are the worst.

New Chat Created: North Island Daggers by Comin2U — (gen fic)

Harvard: why Whatsapp and not just a basic text message? Hangman: because one of us has an android and ruins the ability to message with just internet. Coyote: Screw you too hangman. ________________________________ In which 12 daggers, the best of the best of naval aviators, are all a bunch of kids and thrown in a group chat.

come fly with me (let's fly, let's fly away) by GatheringBlue — (TGM x 9-1-1 Crossover)

It's a common misconception that Buck trained to be a Navy SEAL. For as long as he could remember, flying had been his dream. Most little kids wanted to be a firefighter or an astronaut, but Buck had always wanted to be a pilot. He wanted to fly far, far away from home, where his parents’ comments that might as well have been slaps for how badly they stung couldn’t get to him. Flying was his way out. His escape. If he was thousands of feet up in the sky, way up with the clouds, then his parents couldn’t touch him. No one could. When Buck got pulled from the reserves just after the lawsuit, it seemed like perfect timing. There was nothing left for him in LA. Not anymore. So, it looked like Buck was heading back to Top Gun.

[pixiesfz]

part 2 of this

moving on j.r x reader

plot: you are an adult now and move to Manchester

warnings: in this jill never played at Arsenal and also this has some heavy themes of SA and toxic relationships

Years later you had gotten out of your family home, earning enough money to fly out to Manchester and own your apartment, leaving your family behind.

You had healed.

You were openly out and had made many friends in the city. You sometimes went out to watch the soccer, men's or women’s. It gave you the comfort that reminded you of Jill.

You had seen her Instagram, your finger hovering over the follow button for far too long.

Career-wise your life had been doing amazing, all your singing writing as a teenager had paid off as you sold your songs off to famous singers and heard them sing them on stages.

You had recently finally settled into your apartment, just adding in a small detail here and there.

Your favourite part of owning your own home was the control you had, picking which sheets you used, choosing what paint color you would paint your bedroom walls, and finally choosing who you let in.

You never told your parents where exactly you were moving, you just said Europe and left.

You didn’t want them trying to control you in your own home.

It was about your fifth week in Manchester when you met Ellie, you were walking from a local furniture store with a rugged stool in your hand, you thought it wouldn’t be a hassle to walk but when he offered you two for the price of one you took it.

And now you couldn’t see where you were going.

Ellie was walking nearby and noticed your struggle immediately, walking over and offering to help you.

“I’m Ellie” she introduced herself once she placed the stool in front of your door

“Y/N” you smiled before looking at the door and then back to the older girl “Would you like to come in?” you asked, a blush roaming over your cheeks.

Ellie nodded “Yeah I would like that”, you nodded back before opening the door for both of you as you placed the stools down nearby.

You had swapped numbers that night, an obvious connection being created as you saw each other more.

You had created some friends in your workplace, sharing fun ideas with each other and sharing stories.

“You and Ellie are so perfect it’s like a movie” Olivia gushed as you told her how she brought you flowers last night. “I know, she’s amazing” you laughed, placing your papers down.

“It’s good being able to love in person, not behind a door” you told her and she nodded, already knowing about your past life when you lived with your parents.

“I’m happy for you”.

You had been so infatuated with Ellie that you never heard of the news of Jill’s move to Manchester City from Wolfsburg. Personally you were following Manchester United but Ellie was big on City so when she dragged you to a Manchester derby you were a tad bit excited.

You had also invited Olivia and her husband to come with you as you all sat down in the stands. The game was starting soon as you cheered for the girls in red, you knew they would most likely lose from how good you heard City were doing but you still had hope.

Jill had walked out onto the field, shaking her hands to rid of her nerves, she craned her neck round after before shaking her legs, a small ritual she did as she walked onto the ground.

There wasn’t a big crowd today, due to the earlier game time but she didn’t mind, usually, when she played in small games she was more aware of all her options.

You were watching the united girls warm up in front of you, joining into chants here and there, your girlfriend refusing to sing the chants with you.

“Oh C’mon babe just one” you whined, pulling out your finger to represent the number “You sing a city one then” she shot back and you shook your head “Only if you sing united”

“Ok what about Roord, she’s my favourite player” your girlfriend said and your skin went pale.

“Roord?” you question and your girlfriend smiled “yeah Jill, she plays for your international team, I’ll teach you all about soccer babe it’s fine”

You reached your head around to see the City girls and there she was.

She was taller, her hair was blonder and she was still as gorgeous as ever, Jill.

Your Jill.

You choked on your water, throwing a thumbs up when Olivia’s husband asked if you were okay.

When the game started you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her, fortunately, Ellie was too into the game to notice your very obvious stare at the Dutch player.

When the game ended 2-0 City’s way you watched as your girlfriend ran back to the stands to grab a pen.

Jill had started her lap around the oval, deciding to go do it herself instead of with Kerstin because she didn’t want to stand through another lovey-dovey conversation between her and her girlfriend.

You had been talking to someone behind you when she heard a Dutch accent, being intrigued to find a Dutch person at a game but when she looked up to you she was frozen, ignoring the fans calling her name.

“Y/N?”

You turned around from the sound of your name only to be met with the eyes that you fell in love with years ago.

“Y/N?” another voice popped up and you turned your head to your girlfriend who had knocked her head in the direction of Jill.

“Oh, Ellie uhm- “

“Do you want that signed?” Jill asked, directing her hand to the City jersey Ellie held in her hands before she nodded

“How do you know my girlfriend?” Ellie asked before you looked at her weirdly, Jill also looking up with shock

“We went to the same school” Jill smiled dryly before passing back the shirt “Uh it was nice to see you,” Jill said to you before walking straight to the tunnel, skipping the rest of the fans.

You shared weird looks with all of your friends. Ellie’s eyes looking down at you. “Why did you never tell me you knew one of my favourite soccer players?”

You shrugged a fake laugh escaping your lips “I guess it just never came up.”

The car ride home was silent, Olivia and her husband left in an Uber from the game to go to her parents house, which left you and Ellie in the car alone.

Usually, this wouldn’t matter to you. You and Ellie are in the car together all the time.

This felt different. She hadn’t looked at you since you got in and her knuckles were turning white at the steering wheel.

“Ellie-“ “When you told me your parents found you with a girl once was it Jill?”

You were taken back from the question “Why does it matter?” you ask and she rolled her eyes “Was it?”

You scoffed “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but yes, yes it was”

You saw her knuckles turn even whiter as she turned into her apartment. A pit forms in your stomach “Can you drop me home to mine?” you ask and she turns to you “It’s late y/n, you know I don’t like driving at night”

You pursed your lips nodding “alright” you said and got out of the car.

You decided to shed some light on the situation as you went in “Do you want to watch some Netflix, you can pick a show and I’ll make popcorn” You smiled and Ellie nodded, a slight smile on her lips as she kissed your cheek and made her way into her bedroom.

“That’s not the living room!” you joke but you hear no reply.

Once you finally finished the popcorn you walked into the living room to see no Ellie “Ellie c’mon housewives is on!” You yell out to your girlfriend who finally comes back in with black trousers on, she looks a bit blushed but you ignore it.

“hey” she smiled at you before sitting next to you “What were you doing in your room for so long?” you asked softly and she shrugged “Got distracted on my phone I guess” she shrugged and you nodded

Minutes later your fatigue started to take control of you as you rolled to the pillow next to you, Ellie watching with a smirk.

“I have a surprise for you” she whispered and you hummed “What is it?” you asked and she smiled up against your ear before kissing your neck gently “Here”.

You pushed away when she pressed her body against your back and you felt it. She must have put it on whilst she was in her room.

You just wanted to have a rest on the couch “Not tonight El” you told her, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

But Ellie didn’t seem to like that idea because she pressed harder against you “please I just want you so bad”

You shook your head “I’m not that into it tonight” You shrugged and tried to sit up but your girlfriend's arms pushed you back down before she hovered over you.

You panicked “What are you doing?”

“I want you,” she said and started kissing your neck as you tried to push her away but instead, she grabbed your hands and pulled them above you “Stop fighting it you wanted it last week”

“Get off me,” you told her, now using your legs but they were no use as she sat on your lap “Ellie stop-“

You were silenced as her palm hit your face “Shut up”

“I’m going to fuck you and you are going to like it”.

[omegalomania]

the full apple music interview with zane lowe is out! we got snippets of it when love from the other side dropped, but they finally rolled out the full thing. here are some highlights that stood out to me :)

patrick describes pete's lyrics as what gets him out of bed in the morning. if pete doesn't send him lyrics, he doesn't write a song.

andy and pete used to draw fake snake tattoos on each other using magic markers as kids omg?

so evidently patrick was the one who got covid during hella mega tour. and he hated it and he was miserable and that's when he called neal avron about the new record lmao

patrick says that joe was hesitant at first and he was the one who said that for this record he wanted to make something that they could all savor and spend time on and patrick was immediately on board with that

pete says patrick's job is to interpret him because pete calls his mentality a "little bit off" but patrick is capable of understanding him and translating it

patrick describes his and pete's creative relationship as "twin speak." it's not linear and it's like living in his brain a little bit. he calls it the "weirdest thing i've ever seen" when pete can just Tell that some words that patrick adjusted weren't ones he wrote despite not remembering writing them. patrick says he's gotten better at connective tissue and knowing how pete would say things

pete: back in the day patrick was like, "what's the difference between cry and weep i will KILL YOU. THEY'RE THE SAME THING. I'M GONNA KILL YOU RIGHT NOW."

zane says patrick's vocals are next level for this album. pete agrees that he kills it on this album and said he never would've expected that voice coming from him when they first met. zane says patrick could sing a recipe and it would be good. he then passes patrick a recipe and patrick. sings it???

patrick: i'm not gonna belt it. (starts belting) NINE INCH PIE PLATE ROLLING PIN

patrick says that pete doesn't mean to have rhythm to his words but there's a rhythm to them all the same and patrick can find this syncopation in his words and thinks it's amazing

more talking about patrick and pete's Magical Mystical Transcendent Soul Bond. patrick says "if we were one guy, we'd be an INCREDIBLE DUDE"

patrick and pete say that interviews with all four of them are hard because it's chaos and everyone's talking at once but it all makes perfect sense to them and no one else. zane says that sounds like fun flkjdfd [i agree please do this more it's a joy]

pete says joe really stepped up and wrote a lot for this record!

patrick: "joe is kind of a conundrum because he's this really talented...he's a brilliant writer, a brilliant player, but pete and i became the "team" and it wasn't really a plan, but that's just kind of how it happened. [brief tangent about the hiatus] we come back from the thing and joe is this fully-formed writer with a very distinct - he has one of the most distinctive writing voices. when i hear his parts, when i hear his ideas, i could pick them out of a crowd. like i know the way joe writes, and it's VERY joe." part of the process with post-hiatus was integrating him into the writing process more.

discussing the hiatus and fame and pete says his life kind of "blew up" and took it pretty hard. apparently during production for folie paparazzi actually broke down the gate to neal avron's house

patrick goes on a big tangent about how bad things got during the height of pete's fame. "part of my role is to tell his story. i'm a composer. that's what i like to do. i work on movies, i work on shows, and i work on pete. pete has a story that needs music, and if he's removed from himself, if he's not even able to access himself because he's behind all of this stuff, i don't have a story! so not only did i not have my buddy, which was heartbreaking in its own way, but then i also don't have a purpose as an artist."

patrick says that andy is always ready to play but when you get him happy to play, it's another level

"and trohman, there were these moments where he...he got so excited."

patrick describes writing what a time to be alive as wanting to write the saddest, most desperate song you could hear at a wedding. pete bursts into laughter and calls it "so twisted"

talking about other endeavors outside the band - patrick talks about composing and said joe's been super busy with his book and writing for tv and because there are so many deadlines for stuff like that, it's what hammered home to him that fall out boy needs to not be that. "there's something special about this that can't be...this has to be passionate and art."

discussing how scared patrick was of his own voice while the band took off. patrick was really scared of the song saturday at first because there are some really exposed vocal moments. he describes saturday as a song where everyone in the band lets each other go for it.

zane calls fall out boy the "emo blueprint" and says they were unapologetic in being emotional. patrick immediately says, "that was pete. i don't think we could've done that without him." he and joe were basically kids and patrick was too anxious to talk on stage.

zane says, "i remember interviewing you in the early days and i felt like every time i asked you a question i was bullying you." pete IMMEDIATELY loses his shit.

"in another life where i didn't have a pete...cause saturday, i did write most of that by myself...so there's a world where that song exists without the band. there's no world where i sing it in front of people without pete."

pete says every night before they put out a new song he calls patrick up and gets really scared and wants to back out and patrick talks him down every time

they talk about how scary it was when arm's race released and performing it at the amas. patrick starts laughing rly hard as they get into how there were giant crickets on stage and the crowd was just stone-faced and utterly nonresponsive and their stage manager was utterly panicked

towards the end patrick really loosens up and starts swearing more dlkfjdfd

[zegrasdrysdale]

nh13 headcanons

fluff and smut

warning(s) : smut !

author’s note : day one of working w infants and toddlers at work and i am exhausted. i’m too tired to work on any of the full length fics rn but i wanted to give y’all something tonight so here y’all go :))

༺═──────────────═༻

fluff !!

Nico loves to call you nicknames in german. schatz and liebling are used frequently by Nico as they are both your favorite terms of endearment

obviously Nico favors them too

you pick up on little phrases in german when you’re around Nico when he goes back to Switzerland, when he talks with Timo, Jonas and Akira or when he’s on the phone with his family back home

you surprise Nico though by learning how to say “I love you” when you decided to tell him for the first time

you got help from Timo though because you wanted to make sure you got it right (and Nico has no idea)

Nico loves when you come to games

he thinks the ‘C’ looks better on your chest than his when you wear one of his jerseys at a game

you’re very close friends with Timo, Jonas and Akria since Nico is always with them (they call themselves the “Swiss Connection”)

Nico loves to hold your hand and touch you in public as soon as he can. stealing a kiss or two at a Devils event is one of his favorite things to do

his teammates like to call you “Mrs. Cap” for fun

he buys you gifts for no reason. sometimes when he goes on longer roadies, he’ll have flowers delivered to the apartment so you’ll know he’s thinking of you

you spend the summers with him in Switzerland and every season in New Jersey

you’re there for him every time he struggles with his captaincy. Nico will always come to you when he feels like he’s not enough / doesn’t deserve the C on his chest

he will always come to you when he’s in a slump, and you always listen

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

smut / nsfw !!

captain kink !! you (not so) accidentally called him “cap” one time while you were having sex and it made him short circuit. that’s how you both found out that Nico has a captain kink

he very much enjoys fucking you doggy style when you’re in his jersey

opposite of that, he does not like buying you a new jersey when he inevitably comes on the one you’re wearing bc you refuse to wear a jersey he came on

the two of you will absolutely sneak off at a Devils event when Nico isn’t needed to hook up in a closet or room farrrr away from the activities that are going on …

especially since Nico is very vocal during sex. he is not afraid to get loud and you often find yourself either covering his mouth with your hands or lips

kisses kisses and more kisses. Nico is a kisser when having sex. his lips will always find a way to yours

he’s more of a giver than receiver. his girl’s pleasure is more important than his own, but he’s not against a blowjob when the two of you are in a rush or you want to reward him for a good game or a goal

Nico will never be rough with you after a bad game. he is always so gentle with you …

unless you tell him that he can use your body to get off. then he doesn’t hold back

you aren’t able to walk the next day

he keeps his hair long because he knows you like to hold onto his locks

Nico defaults to german during sex. he sometimes can’t speak english when in bed with you (another way you pick up german phrases. those phrases are mostly curses though so you know how to curse in swiss german)

morning sex after he gets back in the middle of the night from a roadie … and before he leaves for a long roadie

phone sex is always a necessity when he’s gone, especially when he’s gone for long periods of time

༺═──────────────═༻

HC MASTERLIST

want me to write a hc ? check out the guidelines for the list of players i write for !

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taglist: @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @stony1386 @mangoluver @prettyinsatiable @ivy-34 @bunbunbl0gs @marie7366 @naughty-box @memandi

[robobarbie]

I'm sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if you have any advice on bringing a character concept into a consistent, compelling character. I have so many character concepts, but I always struggle with giving them unique, consistent identities and voices, and you're so great at that. Thank you so much for creating such wonderful stories!

u r too kind to me. i am no expert, but this is generally my strategy when i'm writing/creating characters:

Remember that characters are more than stereotypes. If I'm making an FFXIV player who loves to shill, I'm not going to make shilling all that he is. That's how you get one-note characters that get a little boring. I try to picture a three dimensional personality that fits around that, even if all parts of it aren't used in text. Like, if I picture all the people who have shilled FFXIV to me over the years, what do they have in common? Quieter IRL, a bit tired of bullies, bad eating habits, etc etc.

Find a way to connect it to something you're familiar with. You write what you know best. If your character is an architecture student, but you know nothing about it, do some research about the field while also connecting that love of architecture he has with a love you might have for something else. You'll be able to write about his love for it more believably if you're tying it to something else you yourself adore.

Life hack: base the character on a person you know in real life. When you base characters off of characters that already exist, I think you run the risk of it not feeling authentic (but that's not always the case). The entire cast of BP was based on a server I was in ages ago -- the characters weren't carbon copies of the people I knew, but those people were good reference points for typing style and initial personality quirks for them all.

Find the fine line between similar characters and emphasize that. Felix already gets a lot of comparisons to Onionthief (deservedly so) but we're making them distinct in the following ways: Felix is colder, Onionthief is less mature, Onionthief is bullied more often in chat than Felix is, Felix is quieter, Felix is less judgmental of mistakes, etc. You find those deeper details that really separate characters and create... well, back to point #1. You create three-dimensional people that could exist in real life.

Edit to add: talk a lot to strangers. You will learn a lot about the variety of people in the world, and the way they interact realistically, if you brave the world and meet new people.

ramble over

[httpswritings]

The Great War — Katie McCabe x Reader

Additional info: Story inspired Taylor Swift’s The Great War. I’m in my Katie era, but I’m also planning on writing about other players, especially Alexia, which I have like four ideas to write about. We’ll see. I also have a draft of Ruesha x Katie inspired in Moth to a flame by The Weeknd, but I’m doubting about posting it or not. Maybe in the future I’ll write a Caitlin x Katie fic, but I don't have a clear vision of them yet to properly write about them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, throwing up and therapy, sensitive topics overall, avoid reading if you find them triggering. Angsty Katie.

Word count: 1691

Right after Katie ended her relationship with Caitlin Foord, she met Y/N. After some time, they got into a relationship together. They enjoyed every single second of the magical connection they seemed to have. With the passing of time, Katie became more and more anxious about her relationship with Y/N. She doubted she could be what Y/N deserved, even though her girlfriend took her time every day to remind Katie that she's never been as happy in a relationship as she was with her.

«My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked»

Two heartbreaks in such a little time, with both her Ireland National Team's member Ruesha and girlfriend of seven years, and her Arsenal's teammate Caitlin Foord, who was her girlfriend during half a year, made the Irishwoman insecure about her ability to love, to trust, to have a happy fairytale ending. Katie knew these thoughts would damage her relationship with Y/N, but she couldn't help but to spend most of her day tracking every single detail that built her relationship to the obsessive point where she felt absolutely sick of herself.

«Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground»

When she reached her limit, she told Y/N about what was going on. Y/N responded well and helped Katie, and it started well. Really well. But after some time, Katie fell back into a cycle of doubt and anxiety, and those sensations kept growing when she noticed any change in Y/N's mood, as she took it too personally. This made her re-experience in her mind those moments of stress while she was with Ruesha or Caitlin.

«And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur»

Y/N tried to understand her, she tried and tried but eventually, she reached her limit.

“I want to help you. I really do. But I can't continue like this. I'm not Ruesha, nor I am Caitlin. I am aware that being in a new relationship it's difficult for you, so maybe we should take things a bit slower. I don't mean to take a break, but maybe I should go back to my flat. We will move on slower than we did before, but I do think it's the only way to work it out.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Sweet dream was over»

“Yeah, maybe you're right´”, that was Katie's only response. Y/N limited herself to sigh. That night, Katie slept alone in her bed. Her body reacting to the cold sheets and crying herself to sleep.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War»

Sweet morning messages from Y/N, “Good morning, baby. Do good at training today! Love you ;)”

Surprise visits from Y/N, lovely gifts, usually handmade ones, brought Katie to tears as she felt endlessly loved.

«Always remember

Tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie prayed for things to get back as they were during the first months of the relationship. The feeling of her not being a good girlfriend to Y/N haunted her even in her sleep.

«You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone»

Y/N suggested going to a therapist together, but Katie was unsure about that. She thought that if she couldn't quite open to her girlfriend about her feelings and thoughts, she wouldn't be able to talk about what was bothering her to a therapist. Such a huge contrast between the two parts of the relationship that drew them even more apart.

«You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it»

“No, I'm sorry, but I'm not doing this. I feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger about our issues.”

“I know, baby, I was just suggesting it. Let me explain you why. We are aware of having some problems in our relationship, but we don't really know how to get through it. We've tried and things keep getting worse. Maybe talking to someone who's out of our relationship can make this whole situation clearer for the both of us.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

The bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

The burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie took some weeks to meditate Y/N´s idea. She was terrified of being judged by the therapist they would talk to. Even more scared of Y/N realizing she didn't do any good to her. Eventually, she agreed.

“Maybe she's right. People attend therapy sessions. It's normal, Katie. It's normal”, she said to herself.

«It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed»

Katie was not new to getting help from a therapist. She was very open about her mental health in different areas of her life, whether that included football or not. The first time she attended a therapy session was when she was a teenager. It went well, so did the first sessions with Anna, Katie's and Y/N´s psychologist.

Making progress is not a linear process, and making mistakes is a part of the success. Mistakes are a victory in themselves, it means that you're still trying. One day, Katie had an individual session with Anna. Anna felt it was Katie's time to open about her two past relationships; a young adult romance that lasted for more than half a decade and a short but intense romance of one year after a breakup.

It was a slow conversation filled with many pauses from Katie.

“Are you gonna tell Y/N what I'm telling you?”

“No, Katie. This stays between me and you”, said Anna.

As Katie told her her experiences in love, she broke down.

The wall she had built, in order to avoid being hurt and judged, collapsed in that therapy room.

“Don't be afraid to cry. You have nothing to prove to me nor to Y/N. This is about you and your healing process. Y/N will help you and accompany you, but it's crucial for you to work on yourself, especially being a public figure.”

«Your finger on my hair pin triggers»

As Katie arrived home, she unlocked her phone and asked Y/N to come over.

“I've asked Anna, and she told me it was a good initiative and a great way of gaining some independence in our relationship, leaving her out of it for a while. Don't feel obliged to!”

“I am exhausted, baby. Work was something else today, and I’m a little bit irritated because of it, lol. Maybe another time? Love you.”

As Katie was about to spiral, she remembered Anna's advice. She breathed deeply. Y/N was setting her boundaries. She trusted Katie enough to tell her the truth and not to make any excuses. She felt tired from work. Y/N is not mad at her. She didn't do anything wrong. Everything’s okay.

«Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops»

The next day Katie woke up to a text from Y/N.

“Good morning, princess. I had a great sleep, what about you? How did you sleep? I’m up to seeing you today if you feel like it. Love you.”

Still slightly asleep, she smiled.

“I can't wait to see you today, beautiful girl. I had a good sleep, too. Good to have the bed all to myself ;))”

She frowned after sending the text with that joke at the end.

“Breath, Katie, let these useless thoughts pass. Both you and Y/N feel comfortable teasing each other”, said Katie to herself.

“Ha, ha, really funny. We both know you missed having me snoring next to you.”

“How do you know?!?!”

«That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you»

As Katie was preparing herself to go out with Y/N to have lunch, she remembered the night where Y/N left her house.

She doesn't freak out to the thought of it, but instead she does an exercise of introspection. She sees herself in her mind, almost throwing up, completely emotionally depending on her girlfriend while pushing her away and bottling up her feelings.

«We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

The worst was over»

Now she looks at herself in the mirror. She sees herself, Katie, as the woman who knows that she's loved, and she's deserving of being it. The woman who respects her girlfriend’s boundaries and doesn't freak out at the tiniest change that she perceives. The woman who's going to take her girlfriend out to have a good time having lunch, not worrying about anything but what order she's going to have.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

We're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours»

As they arrived home back from the restaurant, Y/N walked towards Katie.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did this. You are doing it every day. I’m so excited to see where our relationship leads us to.”

As Katie sobbed, she softly laughed, “It’s nice to cry sometimes. God, I feel so relieved. I’m so proud of myself, too, of us! Thank you for being there for me, Y/N, thank you. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life as your girlfriend.”

“Even when you'll wake up to my snoring?”

“Especially when I'll wake up to your snoring.”

[homeofatlas]

French Connection

Authors note: I project so much in these fics I genuinely couldn't look at a picture of Elisa for two weeks when i heard she was with someone. I love to write though so hopefully i'm back. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to keep writing. No grammar checks.

Summary: You interview Elisa and Gay panic. Hard.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tw: Lots of gay panic and some swearing

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Honestly? You know nothing about soccer. But the journalist who was supposed to be covering this event had come down with a nasty flu and hadn’t been able to come. Being the only journalist in the office without a family you got stuck at a women's soccer game on a cold sunday afternoon. Don't get yourself wrong, you loved to watch athletic women running around but typically if you watched any sports at all it was at home on your comfy couch. Not only did you have to sit through, take notes, and try to decipher what was going on in the game but you had little to no time to research the players you were supposed to interview directly afterwards. You were a culture columnist not a sports commentator for christ's sake! 

Your boss had emailed you last night asking, practically begging, you to go in the other journalists place. You’d accepted but only because you were getting paid overtime. You’d like it on the record that this wasn’t your cup of tea.

After what feels like forever the team you're supposed to be interviewing, psg feminine or something, wins. You say thank you to whoever's listening that the part you know nothing about is over. Making your way to the team and flashing your journalist badge which gets you into the team headquarters you find the coach congratulating the players. You wait for him to finish before introducing yourself and explaining that you're here to interview some of the players. He calls over a couple players named Karaouchi, Geyoro, and De Almeida while you grab your phone to record and a pen to take notes. The women walk over to you while joking around with each other, clearly in a good mood about their win. 

When you look up from grabbing your things out of your bag, your eyes pass over them lingering on the one standing in the middle. You aren’t sure how you didn’t notice her before. Her strong features and full laugh leave you slightly breathless as you look at her. You need to avoid eye contact with her at all costs because you’re already short of breath and the gay panic is making all your thoughts leave so you need to get this done quickly. Composing yourself you take a deep breath and smile at the woman closest to you. 

“Hi I'm Y/n and I'm interviewing you guys today! So we’ll start by saying your names and then I'll ask you a few questions about your match today, sounds good?”

The women all nod and agree. 

You press record on your phone and hold it up to the first woman. 

“Grace Geyoro.”

You move down the line to stand in front of the middle one. Flickering your eyes up to her you can see the gleam of seat on her forehead and her twinkling eyes as she leans in to speak. 

“Elisa De Almeida.”

You swallow and curse yourself for ever thinking you might be able to avoid those eyes. It should be illegal to be this good looking, especially when she’s sweating, you think. These aren’t workable conditions really, your gayness prohibits you from being normal around attractive masc women. Forcing yourself to move on you hold the phone up to the next woman. 

“Sakina Karaouchi.”

“Great, thank you. I’ll ask a question and whichever one of you wants to answer can.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time skip to after the interview

After the interview you let the women leave to go do whatever they do after games while you finish up your notes. Your body feels hot all over from every time you met Elisas eyes. The plan of trying not to look her directly in the eye was immediately scrapped the first time you’d truly looked into them. Her brown eyes had made your stomach swoop yet, you found yourself unable to look away. Her entire presence had trapped you. The entire interview you’d been trying to come up with a way to keep it going and speak with her more. Your limited sports knowledge has never come back to bite you in the ass so much. 

Seaking briefly to the head coach and get a quote or two from him regarding the days match, you pack everything into your purse before making your way through the tunnels and out into the parking lot where most people have cleared out from this afternoon's game. You see the cars of what must be mostly staff and players left. Walking through the parking lot you find yourself thinking of those brown eyes again. You can always find her instagram and reach out in hopes of another interview you tell yourself. You have to see her again, you don’t know if you can fathom living in France knowing there's a woman that beautiful out there and you never tried to make a move. Pulling your keys out of your purse you unlock your car before you hear your name being called from behind you. Slowing your stride you glance behind you to see Elisa crossing the parking lot quickly checking both ways to make sure it’s okay to go. You stop and wait for her to jog closer to you before turning to face her. Her cheeks are red from the wind blowing roughly against your faces. It makes it harder for you to see the sunspots and freckles which lie over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. You pray you’ll get a chance to one day count how many of them there are littered on her face. 

Chest heaving from how quickly she crossed the parking lot she huffs out your name again. She looks lost almost, her eyes roaming around your face as if looking for something. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone whose face was so expressive. It’s so incredibly endearing you can feel your body warming again with her proximity despite the cold which is seeping into your coat by the moment. You breathe her name back to her with a small smile. 

She swallows looking around the parking lot. You can see her hand playing with and adjusting the straps on her bag before looking back at you again. 

“I was wondering if you’d let me interview you. Except over dinner or coffee and it’d be mutual and less of an interview and more of a date?” She squeezes her eyes shut and winces. 

A smile overtakes your face. 

“Yeah I’d love to go for dinner or coffee on a mutual interview but more date.” 

“That sounded way better in my head by the way.”

“It always does, doesn’t it.”

You two smile at each other before you remember that’s your cue to give her your number. You could just give her your instagram but she’s like if i woke next to you everyday for the rest of my life i could face something new about you to admire level cute so your number it is. 

After more staring and smiles she walks you to your car before turning around and walking to her own. Sitting in your car for a moment letting your heart beat settle you can’t help but thank god your coworker is fighting for her life with the flu.

[cj-schlatt]

Rewind

Pairing: Schlatt x gn!reader (no pronouns, no use of y/n)

Word Count: ~780

Summary: What do you get as a gift for someone who has it all?

Content: Fluff, pet names (angel). Schlatt and reader are childhood best friends who recently reconnected :)

A/N: Hi! This is my first attempt at writing for Schlatt. Let me know how I did! :)

You’ve been stressing ever since you flipped the calendar page over this morning. Your first anniversary with Schlatt is this month, the date marked with a heart, and you have no idea what you’re going to get him.

What do you get as a gift for someone who has it all?

You’re in your parents’ attic, helping them to clean it up a bit, when you find the answer to your dilemma.

You come across an unmarked cardboard box, which by itself isn’t unusual; you’ve already sorted through a dozen just like it. What makes it special is what you find inside—it’s filled with VHS-C tapes from your family’s old camcorder. You’ve just stumbled upon a treasure trove of memories.

You know for a fact that there is footage of Schlatt within these tapes, from birthday celebrations to stupid “movies” the two of you made together. As you pick up a tape, labeled with both of your names and the date it was captured, you start to form a plan.

Your childhood bedroom is exactly as you left it when you moved out, down to the old CRT TV and combination VHS and DVD player. After some quick Googling, you’re turning on the TV and popping the first tape, along with a blank DVD, into the player.

Static. Then, a picture comes into view: a grainy scene of a much younger version of you in front of a birthday cake, Schlatt right at your side as he and the rest of the party-goers sing “Happy Birthday” and you blow out the candles. You can’t help but smile at the display.

The video continues, showing you tearing into your birthday presents (with Schlatt right there to help you, of course). You’re transported back to that day, long forgotten until now, where you almost had more fun playing with the wrapping paper and tissue paper than the actual presents you received.

Soon, the first tape ends. If all went well, it should be copied onto the DVD now. You stay up well into the night converting tapes, too excited revisiting old memories to want to continue later.

The next day, phase two of your plan begins, with you uploading the new DVDs to your computer and putting your video editing skills to the test. You’re grinning like an idiot when it’s finally done.

You just hope Schlatt will like it.

You’re pretty sure he will.

It’s a few weeks later when the big day finally arrives. You can’t even count how many times you’ve had to hold yourself back from giving him his gift early, so excited to see his reaction.

You’re practically vibrating when you lead him to the living room and turn the TV on.

“What’s all this about?” he asks, plopping down on the couch.

“You’ll see,” you say, smiling as you connect your laptop to the TV.

You watch with him as little you and Schlatt are projected onto the big screen. You join him on the couch, listening to your younger self introduce your imagined audience to what the two of you creatively titled “The Dumb Idiots Show.”

You glance over at Schlatt, who is completely glued to the TV. You think you see that his eyes are glistening a little, reflecting the light of the screen, but you don’t say anything, just let the video continue.

The video came out pretty damn good, if you do say so yourself. It had been so much fun reliving these memories, and it’s even better now that you get to share them with your best friend, the one who was with you for all of it.

Eventually, the screen fades to black, and the room falls silent.

“Wow,” is the first thing Schlatt says. He leans back into the couch, running a hand through his hair.

“Did you like it?” you ask, not quite able to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

“Are you kidding?” he asks, voice tinged with disbelief. “I loved it.”

“Really?”

“Really, angel,” he says, pulling you in for a hug.

You sink into the embrace, relief flooding through you.

“I’m impressed,” he says when you part.

“Hmm?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with video-making skills around here.”

You grin at him. “I mean, did you see my camera work on episode two of ‘The Dumb Idiots Show?’ I’ve always had a knack for it.”

He laughs. “You oughta start your own channel.”

“Maybe I will,” you say with a little smirk. After a moment, your face softens. “Happy anniversary, J.”

“Happy anniversary,” he echoes, a lovesick smile on his own face as he leans in to kiss you.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :)

[cupidseok]

things that evoke memories of riize

💒 — SHOTARO AS

the bittersweet tug of homesickness, the aromatic smell of freshly ground coffee beans that first hits you upon stepping into a cafe, unexpectedly meeting a high school friend you really missed on the streets, the solace found in being able to comfort you, the warmth of sunlight kissing your skin, ties with cute little patterns on them, the click of film cameras while taking photos of you, the lingering feeling after a hug, getting bungeoppang in the winter and chatting with the street vendor while waiting for his order, carrot cakes, a large collection of bucket hats, love countdown by nayeon, wonstein

🩰 — EUNSEOK AS

soft ballad music playing in the background, the gentle warmth of intertwined hands, early morning strolls, the adrenaline rush coursing through you while riding roller coasters, holding hands in haunted houses, long facetime calls spent in silence, brushing his lips over your forehead, trembling lips as he lets himself be vulnerable to you for the first time, exploring a place he has never been before, the feeling that you’re going to know each other for a long time, a handsome stranger you saw on an overseas trip once and never again, watching studio ghibli films together, carbonara pasta, breathe by lauv

💭 — SUNGCHAN AS

texts to check if you’ve eaten, greeting dogs that pass by, wandering aimlessly in an art museum, purposely stepping in a puddle of water just to splash someone, playfully fighting you for the tv remote but letting you win in the end, opening jars for you even though you can do it yourself, letting him play with your hair until it’s all tangled, the chime of school bells signalling the day’s end, taking photos with friends on the last day of school, the soft brush of elbows while writing side by side, keeping your hair tie on his wrist, eating vanilla ice cream on sunny days, 爱你 by kimberley chen

✨ — WONBIN AS

late night walks under the moonlit sky, someone’s hand slipping in yours, dark chocolate, dazzle of fireworks illuminating the night, reflecting on his eyes, learning how to play a new instrument, a faceless photo of you and him on his lockscreen, watching a drama together and rooting for different male leads, putting on a facade of toughness to impress you, gently reassuring him that perfection isn’t always necessary, clothes that fit you just right, love at first sight, matching earrings, only letting you touch his guitar, the reluctance to bite into cute chinese piggy steamed buns, wish you were sober by conan gray

💌 — SEUNGHAN AS

sweet goodnight texts, good luck charms handmade with endearing clumsiness, trying new food, finding something you thought you lost, autum leaves rustling in the wind, holding the door open for you, exchanging affectionate words endlessly, winning a soft toy at an amusement park on the first try, patiently teaching you how to play games, looking through his photoalbum when he misses you, doodling shinchan on the corners of your worksheet, taking a bite of your spicy bibimmyeon, then complaining that it was too spicy for him, die for you by the weeknd, ariana grande

👒 — SOHEE AS

shopping for caps together, a tranquil morning greeted by a gentle breeze, buying a new fuzzy blanket, curtains billowing in the wind, waiting for you to come home to him, the comfort of oversized plain white shirts and grey joggers, playing rock paper scissors to divide household chores, needing to pause and go outside for a breather every time he realises how down bad he is for you, trying to order a kids meal at a restaurant and getting embarrassed after the waiter doesn’t allow it, getting tteokbokki together after school, candy by baekhyun

🎧 — ANTON AS

wired earphones connected to an mp3 player, warm beach towels, trying to make an asmr video, eating cake off the floor so you wouldn’t feel bad for dropping it, constantly sending you tiktoks that remind him of you, water parks on hot summer days, classical music, old books with yellowed pages and worn covers, putting on sheet masks together, reading children’s storybooks for you to help you fall asleep, making eye contact across the room, the moment where you realise that he feels the exact same way that you feel at the same moment, snow on the beach by taylor swift, lana del rey

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