#game misconduct tag

[aribaran]

it's crazy to know that game misconduct’s out in the wild today. this book (and series) has been a labor of love over the last few years, although the actual publishing piece of it seems to have happened very fast. this is a story about loving hockey even when it doesn’t necessarily love you back. about the way that hockey culture makes and shapes you. about the way that violence can permeate everything in your life, even when you haven’t intended it to. about the damage that does, physically and psychologically. and most of all, about two broken men who just might hold the keys to fixing each other. thank you so much to everyone who made this day possible. i couldn’t have done it without you. (and as always...please read the content warnings.)

you can buy it on amazon, a few other retailers, or directly from carina.

additionally, the philadelphia constitutions’ lines, in the style of amanda c. stein (full names under the cut).

nathaniel singer - zachary reed - beatrice morin tyler reid - matthew wilson - jakub černý william andersson - antti salonen - andrey kuznetsov sean elliott - taylor adams - austin murphy carey jones - tomáš novotný oskar lindberg - ryan graham liam kelly - dylan parsons/mike sato sakari mäkelä ruslan sokolov (photo background credit: klim musalimov via unsplash)

[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play // Chapter 9 // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV. 

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

As I delicately dab the gauze against Nick's left eyebrow, I can feel it nearly slipping from my trembling hands. The tension is palpable as I firmly grasp his stubbled chin, forcing his gaze to meet mine for just a moment before his eyes dart back to the action unfolding across the ice. 

It all went down so fast.

In a flash, Sanchez slung the puck past the goalie and into the net, eliciting a roar from the crowd. But the celebration was short-lived, as the clash of bodies around the goal quickly turned chaotic. The Bruns defense swarmed Sanchez, shoving him roughly, while another player trips up Ruffilo in a blatant display of aggression. And then, as Nick is getting to his feet, one of the opposing players "accidentally" strikes him across the face with the sharp end of his stick, drawing blood and a collective gasp from the onlookers. It takes the quick action of Dominick leaping over the boards, and the restraint of Sebastian, to keep Karlsson from pummeling the offending player then and there. 

With a few deft motions, I managed to clear away the blood, Ruffilo's injury was not as severe as it had initially appeared. Relieved to see that no stitches would be necessary, I turned my attention to Jack, giving him a reassuring thumbs up. Jack responds with a curt nod, his gaze shifting towards the ice as he silently communicated his readiness to get the game back underway. Taking the cue, I reached out and gave Nick a firm pat on the shoulder, prompting him to swiftly leap back over the boards and rejoin his teammates on the rink. Turning back to my makeshift medical station, I set about the methodical task of cleaning up the scattered gauze pads and securely closing the saline solution. 

Noah has been skating past my post repeatedly today, each time i've tried to ignore his presence, it's been a mere two weeks since our fateful universal date. Since that night, we've been utterly unable to keep our hands off one another, our bodies drawn together by an irresistible magnetic force that threatens to consume us both. 

Although we've managed to keep our situationship secret for now the ever-present anxiety of being discovered hangs over me like a dark cloud. The thrill is intoxicating, yet the guilt gnaws at my conscience. I know deep down that what we share is wrong, taboo, a flagrant flouting of the rules - and yet, in his presence, all rational thought seems to evaporate. 

The way he moves, the way he looks at me, ignites a fire within that I find impossible to extinguish. 

 The words breach of contract. Misconduct. All flash in my brain when I think about it, but they vanish shortly after his hands touch my skin. One misstep, one slip-up, could shatter the fragile web we've woven - and the consequences of that are almost too terrifying to contemplate.

I’m no longer the only nurse on the team. McGuirre joined us last week, he is smart and funny. Recently divorced from his husband he took the job for a fresher start. Since then, each time Noah has needed a look over or some small injury, I have him handle it instead. The exchange of care helps quell the anxiety in my chest.

But it doesn't stop my heart from racing every time he looks my way.

  This game is falling apart and it's putting both the fans and the players on edge. The players have already engaged in a staggering five fights. We are down by three points, and the frustration is etched on each of their faces. Lawrence, has already broken two hockey sticks, cracking them across his knee with roaring yell. Karlsson, has found himself in the penalty box twice, forced to sit out crucial moments due to his overzealous play. In contrast, Noah, though not directly involved in any altercations, has been an aggressive presence, getting in the faces of multiple opposing players, unwilling to back down from the challenge. 

Even my father is visibly on edge, his cheeks flushed not from the chill of the rink but from the sheer tension of the moment. Up in the visitors' box, a group of recruiters from the Olympics, accompanied by the team's public relations manager, have their eyes trained intently on the game, focusing particularly on the standout players, Ruffilo and Sanchez. With each impressive play made, the recruiters can be seen pointing and discussing animatedly. 

As the final buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, the dejected players trudge off the ice, their shoulders hunched and their faces etched with frustration. The heavy footfalls echo through the empty halls, punctuated by the occasional angry muttering or the slamming of a door. Once inside the cramped, dimly lit locker room, the pent-up emotions finally erupt, with players hurling their sweat-soaked jerseys and slamming their fists against the metal lockers. The cacophony of crashing gear and furious shouts creates a chaotic symphony. It doesn’t take me long to put away the supplies and gather my keys and phone from my locker. Heading out quick.

As I aimlessly scrolled through my phone, the bright glow from the screen casting an eerie blue light across my face, I was completely oblivious to the looming presence approaching from the side. I’m tired and just want some late night dinner and trashy TV. Utterly absorbed in the mindless distraction of social media, I failed to notice the large, imposing figure drawing nearer until a sudden, vice-like grip seized my arm, yanking me forward with surprising force. Startled, I glanced up to find myself staring at a towering, sulking, Noah. His fingers, still damp and wrinkled from what was presumably a recent shower, dug painfully into the soft flesh of my bicep as he roughly dragged me along, his broad shoulders and thick neck tight with frustration. The pungent, earthy scent of his body wash, a musky, woodsy fragrance, assaulted my nostrils, his shoulders red frome the heart of his shower. 

We approach the storage closet, my head instinctively swivels around, scanning the empty hallway for any prying eyes that might catch. The coast is clear, and with a gentle nudge, he guides me through the doorway, clicking the door shut behind us. The small, enclosed space is dimly lit, barely holding all the storage let alone two human bodies.

“You’ve been ignoring me, little fox.” The dark, brooding intensity in his eyes is intense as he stalks towards me, his lithe, predatory movements leaving no doubt about his purpose. Droplets cling to the silky strands of his bangs, which sweep alluringly across his sharp cheekbones. I feel my back press against the sturdy wooden shelves behind me, the practice cones and sports gear rattling slightly from the contact.

Trapped, I try to stammer out a weak explanation, insisting that this is "nothing personal, just professional." But the tremor in my voice betrays the growing arousal I feel pooling between my thighs. As his hungry gaze rakes over my body.

 As he inhales sharply, a low, rumbling growl escapes his lips, further stoking the fire within me. “Turn around.”

My heart is hammering in my ears and I can barely register to move. “Wh-what?”

"Turn. Around." he commanded, his voice low and gruff. Slowly, I pushed off from the shelf, my eyes fixed on him as my body turned. He was impatient, taking my hips in his strong, calloused hands and spinning me the rest of the way around, pulling my backside firmly against his hips. I could feel his throbbing cock pressing against my ass, and a needy whine escaped my lips at the thought of him filling me up once more.

With one swift, powerful thrust, he pushed me into the shelf, I braced, pushing some of the gear aside as my body jolted forward. It still wasn't enough - I wanted more, craving the delicious, almost painful sensation of being stretched and dominated by this man. 

His breath hits the shell of my ear as his long fingers grasp my hair and pull my head back to meet his lips. “Say it,” he growls, “Say you want me to fuck you.” I whimper, it's all my brain can do, my ability to form words is short circuiting. “Speak words, little fox.” He says tugging my hair, causing just a quick nip of pain at my scalp.

“Please, Noah,” I beg, it's enough. Noah's free hand swiftly tugs down my pants and underwear, exposing me. Kicking my legs apart, he decisively slides his hand up the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, zeroing in on the throbbing center of my arousal. Without hesitation, he presses a long, skilled finger directly onto my sensitive clit, gently massaging the slick, swollen nub in firm, circular motions. The sensation is electric, and I can't help but gasp as he suddenly plunges that same finger deep inside me, filling me to the knuckle. I can feel the cool metal of his ring as it grazes my most sensitive walls, and he pulls back only to push forward again with more force. My body responds eagerly, clenching and fluttering around his intrusion as white-hot pleasure radiates through me. The combination of his confident touch, the fullness within me, and the intense stimulation on my most sensitive spots has me teetering on the edge of ecstasy, my breath coming in short, needy pants.

As his hand slowly withdraws, he carefully cups a portion of my glistening wetness between his fingertips, savoring the delicate texture and warmth. Releasing his grip on my hair, I turn my head just in time to witness him hastily shoving down his sweats, his throbbing cock springing back to meet the taut skin of his abdomen. With a deliberate motion, he coats the swollen tip and rigid shaft with my own arousal. My eyes roll back and I bite down hard on my lower lip, enthralled by the erotically charged sight. Bracing myself against his hip, I can feel him guiding his pulsing length to my entrance, sinking in the moment he finds the perfect spot. There is no hesitation, no gentle buildup - he simply begins driving his hips forward, the slapping of skin against skin echoing through the charged atmosphere as he grips me tightly by the hips.

Rising up on the balls of my feet in a desperate bid to feel him buried within me to the absolute hilt. The overwhelming, all-encompassing need to be ripped apart, to be used and claimed with utter abandon, pulses through my veins like molten desire. He answers my frantic, wanton movements with grunts and pants, his grip tightening around my waist until I can feel the sharp crests of my hips pinching under the sheer force of his grasp. 

I arch my back, grinding myself against him with wanton abandon, lost in the ecstasy of being utterly possessed. 

The intense sensations are almost overwhelming, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me as he continues his relentless pounding. I can barely catch my breath, whimpering and gasping in a desperate attempt to hold back the screams that threaten to escape. My fingers claw at nothing, grasping for something, anything, to anchor myself as my body is wracked with one earth-shattering orgasm after another. The backs of my thighs burn from holding myself up on my toes, but I refuse to give in, needing to feel every inch of him filling me, stretching me to my limits. 

His large hands grip my backside, kneading the flesh as he pulls me forward to meet each of his powerful thrusts. I can imagine the lewd sight of his glistening cock disappearing inside me, leaving me raw and thoroughly claimed. The only sounds that fill the air are his grunts, growls, and heavy panting as he takes what he needs, completely consumed. 

Deep within, I feel a stirring of something more profound - a dawning realization that he is claiming me, body and soul, in a way no other man ever could. With each punishing stroke, he is staking his indelible mark, making me his and his alone.

In what feels like an eternity but is mere moments, he lets out one last guttural groan, his hips surging forward in a final, forceful thrust. I can feel the tension in his body as it quivers and strains, every muscle going taut before finally releasing in a shuddering wave of relief. Collapsing over me, he pants heavily, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. We stay locked together, suspended, my legs trembling as I slowly lower them to the floor. The warmth of his release coats my insides, the sensation both foreign and familiar as it seeps into every sensitive crevice. Time seems to stand still in that hazy, blissful moment, the world narrowing down to just the two of us. Finally, reluctantly, we begin to part.

He helps bring my pants back up as I fix the hem of my shirt. His arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me in head tucking over my shoulder. He doesn't say anything. Just lets out a shaky breath before kissing the side of my neck and turning around to leave.

As I reluctantly bid farewell to Noah, a profound sense of melancholy washes over me, shaking my entire being more intensely than the passionate encounter we had just shared. The tender goodbye lingers, its emotional weight far exceeding the physical intimacy we had experienced. Glancing down, I notice my phone and keys strewn haphazardly on the floor. I can't even recall the moment I dropped them. 

Steeling myself, I step out of the closet, turning to my left only to witness Noah vanish back towards the locker rooms. In that instant, I'm painfully aware that I'm not alone - Ruffilo and Karlsson stand in the hallway, their eyebrows raised in a silent expression of surprise and judgment as our eyes meet. My cheeks flush with a deep, burning crimson as I spin on my heel, heart pounding, and quickly make my way down the hall towards the parking lot, desperate to escape the prying eyes and the weight of the moment.

[infinitystoner]

Compliance

A continuation of Misconduct / MASTERLIST

Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader

Summary: You disobeyed a direct order during a mission, and, now that you’re back in the safety of your motel room, Conrad reminds you that actions have consequences.

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags/Content: Established Relationship, Soft Dom!Conrad, Bratty Sub Behavior, Bondage, Orgasm Denial, Smut! Smut! Smut!, Plot? What Plot?

Rating: Explicit; 18+

“...you’re going to talk me through it.”

Conrad’s tongue darts across his bottom lip, drinking in the vision of you, bound and on your knees before him. He leans back, propping himself up on one elbow and spreading his legs with measured grace. His right hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he’s halted his motions.  

In this moment, you grasp the gravity of your current situation and his need for control. You commit to doing whatever he asks of you. 

“Go on, love. I’m waiting.” 

“Stroke yourself… slowly,” you say, saliva pooling in your mouth as you watch Conrad unhurriedly move his hand along his hardening length. His piercing gaze remains focused on yours. 

Yes, you’ll give him exactly what he wants tonight. 

He should be careful what he asks for. 

“Now imagine my warm tongue against your balls, licking my way up your cock until—” you pause, watching Conrad’s hand tighten around his cock as he pumps faster, groaning out a string of curses. Your pussy shamelessly throbs in response and you press your thighs together in an effort to relieve the burning ache, groaning when the seam of your jeans provides the tiniest bit of friction. “—until my lips wrap around the tip. Touch yourself there.” 

At your words, he runs the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock, whimpering as his hips jerk.

“Come closer,” Conrad growls. 

The intoxicating scent of him envelopes you, and you suppress the urge to take him in your mouth as you settle into your new position between his thighs. You’re determined to prove you can be obedient, but you wonder how long this little game will last. Because for the past six months, you and Conrad have followed the same routine: complete an assignment, come back to the motel, and release your collective adrenaline. 

His stamina post-mission is always impressive. You can’t wait for him to rail you within an inch of your life. 

“Imagine your cock hitting the back of my throat as I gag around you.”

You wet your lips as Conrad continues to thrust into his hand, tossing his head back as his hips shift off the edge of the bed. He’s quick to catch himself, but his cock grazes your mouth before he does so, and you give in – licking the tip as he groans above you. 

“Naughty girl,” he rasps, cupping your chin as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. The rough timbre of his voice reverberates through you, settling in your core as your traitorous hips buck against the edge of the mattress. 

“Stand up.” 

He knows exactly what he’s doing, giving you these brusque commands. The heat swirling through your cunt pulses in time with your frantic heartbeat. You don’t stand a chance. 

Conrad steadies you when you struggle to rise to your feet. So much for being seductive. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s honed in – hastily unfastening your pants and tugging them over the curve of your ass with ease as he positions you between his knees. His cock, resting heavy against his thigh, twitches as he runs a finger through your folds. The way he parts his lips and slants his brows lets you know he’s recalculating his next move. 

“You’re soaked.” 

“Let me come,” you say as he strokes your swollen clit with calloused, practiced fingertips. 

“Not yet,” he replies, pulling away. “Bend over.”

His firm chest presses against yours as he stands. Tilting your head up to meet his gaze, you note your own lust is reflected in his eyes. 

Any other man would likely fuck you into the mattress, but Conrad is not just any man. He’s methodical, precise in his actions. There are never any hasty decisions with him. No sudden deviations from the plan.  

It’s what you love most about him; yet, earlier tonight, you’d commandeered his mission and subsequently betrayed his trust.  

Conrad meticulously positions you in front of him. You don’t say a word, instead imagining the intense focus on his face: the furrow of his brow, the way his lips press together in concentration, a hint of his tongue peeking out. He guides your upper body to rest against the bed before seizing the belt around your wrists as if it’s a rein. The thought of him riding you to the edge of oblivion sends a tingling thrill up your spine. 

“Is this alright?” he asks. 

Craning your neck, you finally take in the sight of him behind you as he bends his knees to line himself up. He’s a terrible tease, and the well-worn denim of his jeans tickles the back of your thighs as he drags his cock along your pussy, applying just enough pressure to drive you mad. 

“Just fuck me already,” you whine, and Conrad chuckles as you writhe beneath him. There are several reasons why you shouldn’t goad him, but that requires a presence of mind you don’t currently possess.   

“Such a filthy mouth. But, if you insist.” 

Conrad snatches the belt as he buries himself in your cunt, bottoming out in one swift snap of his hips. Your back arches and you cry out at the sensation of being so perfectly full. His fingertips once again find your clit, delicious pressure building in your hips as he mimics the wave of pleasure that crashes over you each time his hips roll against your ass. 

“Need to come, James. Please.”

“Do you think you deserve it?”

“I- I …” you stutter, every last brain cell focused on the feel of his cock dragging along your g-spot.

“Answer. Me.” Each word is punctuated with an agonizingly slow thrust. Both his hands are now firmly holding your hips down, but you attempt to squirm anyway, your throbbing clit searching for pressure or friction — anything to aid you in toppling you over the edge. But Conrad’s grip keeps you still and at his mercy. 

“Oh, you wicked thing,” he drawls, leaning over, his solid form pressing you further into the mattress. 

“So wicked,” you agree as he leans back and smacks your ass, the sweet sting making you clench around his cock. 

“God,” he breathes out between gritted teeth, his large hand kneading your cheek before giving it another swift smack. “You must want- want me to fuck the brat out of you.” 

Conrad wraps an arm around your midriff, pulling your body back against him. 

“You can try.” You rise to your tip-toes as he continues to rock into you, your bound hands clutching at the hem of his t-shirt. A deep laugh rumbles in his chest as he leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear. 

“Oh? Is that what you really want? Will a proper fuck set you straight?” 

“Yes, Daddy.”

You know it drives him wild when you call him that, and, as predicted, his movements become more frenzied. The sounds of Conrad’s groans as his cock slides into your pussy over and over again are hypnotic. He’s quickly losing himself – and so are you. The noises of bliss he’s pulling from you meld with his own as they reverberate around the room, and soon you’re ready to scream out his name. It’s only when his hips judder and he rests his forehead against your back as rides out his climax that you realize he’s not going to let you come. 

“You did so good,” Conrad praises as he unfastens the belt from your forearms and pulls you into his embrace. He brings your wrist up to his lips, tenderly kissing all the places the leather dug into your flesh. You whine as your orgasm ebbs. 

“Do you know why I didn’t grant you release?” 

You’re frustrated, and he knows it. You open your mouth to reply with some bratty retort, but Conrad simply tuts, pressing a finger to your lips. 

“Because you were impatient. Disobedient. And for this,” he motions between you, “to work, I can’t have you taking unnecessary risks out there. Is that understood?” 

Your heart plummets at the realization that you’ve truly disappointed him. Your mind whirs as remorse floods your senses – there’s got to be some way to make him realize how much you regret your earlier misconduct. 

“I understand,” is all you manage to say. 

“Good. Now,” Conrad says, nodding towards the bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

The shower soothes you and rinses away some of your worries, but then Conrad joins you. As you silently begin to wash the dirt and sweat off each other’s bodies, something more than water slickens the space between your thighs. You guide his hand to the crease of your hip, praying those talented fingers will finally grant you release. 

He leans back to observe your face. “Feeling quite bold tonight, are we?”

“I need you, James.” 

“I know, darling. But I need you to take this seriously.” 

A whine rumbles at the back of your throat as he steps out of the tub, his glorious ass on full display as he reaches for the towels. In quiet defeat, you turn the faucet off, watching the water circle the drain. What a fool you’ve been. 

Conrad gently wraps a towel around your shoulders and helps you out of the shower, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of vulnerability. 

“What if your plan had backfired? You could have been captured — or worse…” his voice trails off, like he can’t bring himself to say it.  

Because the mission’s success and your safe return home had been pure dumb luck. You replay the moment it all went to hell: Your target, a bureaucrat being held captive by a small crew of outlying militants, was left unguarded. You took advantage of the opportunity and succeeded in securing the abducted party. But you had compromised not only your own safety, but everyone else’s, in the process. 

His voice drops as he nudges his nose against yours. “There is only one thing that matters to me in this life, and that is you, my precious girl.” 

Conrad runs his thumb over your cheek, and your heart drops into your stomach as those crystal blue eyes look down at you with unwavering devotion. You don’t deserve him, and yet he is yours – completely.  

“And I- I cannot bear the thought of something happening to you.” 

“It won’t happen again. I promise,” you reply quietly, wanting to say more, yet realizing that your words aren’t enough. Not when you were so reckless. 

“I want to believe you,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you. It’s brief – much too brief – and you do your best to ignore the twinge of pain that jabs your heart as he walks away. 

You’ll do whatever it takes to earn back his sacred trust. Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you search the small armoire tucked in the corner of the motel bathroom for an item Conrad gifted you months ago as a peace offering. Finally, you find it: an embroidered beige negligee. The thin silk highlights the contours of your curves, and you delight in the way it skims over your damp skin as you walk into the bedroom. 

Something akin to hope bubbles inside you because Conrad is waiting for you there, leaning against the pillows, long legs stretching across the bed and his bath towel slung low around his hips. The tense pinch between his brows softens as he notes what you’re wearing. He beckons you to him.

“Surely you’re not ready for sleep yet?” he teases as you lie down next to him, the scent of lavender soap intertwining with the heady, lingering smell of sex.

“I’m much too stimulated to sleep,” you admit with sigh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh?” He rolls on top of you, pushing the hem of your nightgown above your hips before caging you between his arms. “We’ll have to do something about that then.”

“Are you sure I deserve it?” you ask, although you widen your hips in anticipation. Conrad settles between them, quickly discarding his towel. The soft amber light of the sconces above your bed highlights the expanse of muscles rippling beneath his taut, tanned skin. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes and you think you might break under the weight of his gaze.

“My love. This life we lead… it’s dangerous. Imperfect. That is what you don’t deserve.”

At times, it feels like you’re standing on the precipice of your own destruction. The love you possess for this gorgeous man consumes you like a raging wildfire, and you know it will inevitably leave a trail of ashes in its wake. You inhale, gliding your fingers across the sharp line of his cheekbone before curling your hand around the back of his neck. 

“It’s the life I want – the life I choose. Every day,” you assure him. “Just as I choose you, James. Every day.” 

Whatever he sees in your expression must convince him you’re telling the truth because, as he slowly guides himself inside you, he says, 

“I believe you.”

[winchesterszvonecek]

Prosecutorial Misconduct 18+

// Rafael Barba x Original Character \\

Summary: Rafael Barba never intended to fall for Melanie Dodds, but now that he had... He was slowly beginning to uncover that there may be far more to the rough and tumble Detective than meets the eye.

Series Masterlist

Like this story? Apply to its tag list here so you don’t miss out on updates!

Full Masterlist | A03 Link

Chapter 1: An Evening at Forlini’s

Chapter 2: A Regular Friday Morning

Chapter 3: Deputy Chief William Dodds

Chapter 4: Certified Scuba Diver, Melanie Dodds

Chapter 5: A Pretzel, A Pigeon and A Patrol Officer

Chapter 6: A Game of Subway Surfers

Chapter 7: A Long Awaited Reunion

Chapter 8: A Whirlwind of Emotions

Chapter 9: A Little Brotherly Advice

Chapter 10: Targeted Misfortune

Chapters: 9/? (ongoing - on a small hiatus)

Want to see my rambles about this story? #melrambles

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

[lucytsukii]

Extroyd / Part 2

I will continue the story!

For those who want more context on the story, here is Part 1

By the way, I put the names of Jerry (Jeremy) and Mack to differentiate them in the shadows, to make it easier for you!

To start this part, you have to understand more about Tatsu.

Tatsu is the symbol of wishes/shooting star, he is one of the strongest entities in the universe, he is the one who turns "impossible" desires into "reality", being sought after by everyone.

As a child he willingly complied and helped everyone, avoiding very cruel desires.

The more time passed, the more he realized that many consequences happened due to people's selfish desires, and this weighed on his mind.

But his brothers were around him and calmed and protected him.

However, with the arrival of Luciel, everything changed. Tatsu was already much older at the time, and had more insight into the "issues".

He trusted his older brother Mack a lot, so he decided to remain neutral in the decision, when he learned that Mack was in favor of Luciel taking control of Extroyd's "protection".

Unfortunately, not everyone respected this opinion, his nephew Jerry went after him to convince him to help the rebellion, since with the wishes that Tatsu fulfills, everything would end in an instant.

Tatsu was apprehensive that such a request could generate conflict and even harm the universe, so he firmly denied it, stating his trust in Mack's judgment.

This angered Jerry, who started fighting with Tatsu, calling him crazy for allowing him to grant power to a dangerous stranger.

The argument ended up catching the attention of Leonard, Jerry's father, who was passing by.

Leo, who knew about Tatsu's concerns, joined the conversation, fighting with his own son for his naivety and misconduct, for wanting to use Tatsu's wishes recklessly and for the terrible idea of ​​making a “revolution”.

The discussion became very serious to the point that the two stopped talking to each other.

Months passed and suddenly Jerry took a “hit” against Luciel! His Uncle Mack interfered, fighting with Jerry, who wouldn't listen.

However, it was too late, Luciel became interested in Jerry's actions, and proposed a "game", a duel against him, whoever wanted could request it, and if they won, Luciel's children and wife would leave.

Jerry, proud and naive, accepted the conditions, so bets were placed.

However, Luciel makes one thing clear, if people lost the duel, he would kill everyone who was on their side, as a warning never to happen again.

Mack was at an impasse with the situation, the number of “children” who were in this revolution was not small, this would be a massacre…

I finally managed to post this! It's been sitting in my drafts for months, and I didn't know how to write it XD

It may take a while to post the rest, but I hope you are enjoying my story, please, if you find a writing error or anything like that, I apologize, English is not my native language, and I use the help of a translator to write.

Feel free to comment on, reblog and leave a like, to know that you're enjoying it at least a little!

I'll continue the story next time.

See you later.

Tag: @amy-2amelly

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

9 Lines, 9 People Tag Game

Thank you @k-v-briarwood for tagging me. These are some lines from yet another magical boy transformation sequence, because I can't get enough of writing them and I think I finally figured out how I wanna go about them.

Whatever invisible entity forced him to 'transform' last time nudges at his chin gently, almost as if apologising for its previous misconduct. Beau scoffs, "It doesn't matter how gentle you are, you're going to do it anyway, right?" Intense heat envelops him, like an internal furnace has been set ablaze inside his body. The flames burn through him, faster than last time, but the embers smoulder for longer. He trembles under the feather-light, hot touch. They're like swift brush-strokes —made by a steady, yet tender hand— there where his veins carry blood to different parts of his body. It's over before the fire could truly settle under Beau's skin, but the pace has left him panting for breath. His heart hammering in his chest. "You did not want to go slow," A deep voice explains in his ears, stern but not callous, "so you got your wish."

Tagging: @sarandipitywrites, @lordfenric-writes, @artbyeloquent, @wildswrites, @authoralexharvey, @memento-morri-writes, @teriwrites, @cwritesfiction, @maxinegillespie and open tag for anyone who wants to share their stuff~

[starscelly]

tagged by @stillfertile and @oetter mwah <3 <3

List 3 ships you like: 424 (and its branches), 2129, 1053

First ship ever: who up writing gaming youtuber rpf on wattpad in 2015. zeroyalchaos. anyone .

Last song you heard: once in a lifetime by the talking heads . a jrob playlist staple 2 me...

Favorite childhood book: probably the whole sisters grimm series!!!!

Currently reading: nothing rn tbh but hopefully starting "game misconduct: hockey's toxic culture and how to fix it" soon

Currently watching: fantasy high: junior year ! sooooo good

Currently consuming: just an arizona iced tea. a free blueberry muffin moments ago. dropped it though. will never recover.

Currently craving: that fucking blueberry muffin.

Low Pressure Tagging: @saltandpepperbox @icecoldversace @pupuhintz @veryconfusedunlabeledguy @simmyfrobby @stickypucky

no pressure if u don't like doing tag games and apologies if u have already done it/been tagged <3 <3

[curlygrant44]

I have a plan.

It may not be a good one, but after some consideration I think it would address boredom and Jimmy's need to feel his blood pumping.

A game of tag. It might seem a bit juvenile, and Swansea will definitely be a hard sell, but I can virtually guarantee that Jim will agree with a bit of heckling as long as I go for the usual tactic.

Of course, it is technically misconduct and an abuse of power, but it won't be the first time I've slapped his ass and it won't be the last. It's always been the best way to get him to give chase, after all...I can't say I understand him sometimes, but I'm grateful that some things don't ever seem to change between us.

As long as everyone understands that it's just a game, I don't think they'll make a fuss -- especially when he finally runs me down and tackles me. He may not be the fastest, but he's tenacious and knows all my weak spots better than anyone.

[mswhich]

First Lines Game

@whimsicalmeerkat tagged me in this. The idea is to post the first line from the last ten fics you posted and see if there’s a trend. Personally, I don't think there's a trend, but maybe that's me. I had a lot of fun looking at these, though.

Into the Infinite "Dave Bowman is calm."

Jade Gallery Redux "I mopped sweat from my brow with my linen handkerchief as I entered Jade Gallery."

Full Send "'So, Oscar, will you be celebrating your first win in style?'"

The Real Thing "Lando hated media day."

Call and Response "Jareth awoke from slumber to the sound of a voice--a young voice--clumsily invoking the Old Magic."

All These Maneuverings "The first moment Walter saw her, his Sabeth, red ponytail swinging above her shoulders, black jeans hugging the curve of her hips, he thought she was Hanna."

Whatever You Say, Sebastian "At spring testing, Sebastian almost didn't recognize Mick."

Workplace Misconduct "George. Do you have a moment?" [ok technically this is two sentences]

Crybaby "The thing is."

Storm Front Coming "It was inevitable that Zack would find the video."

[f0point5]

I think at this point everyone has collectively lost the plot. The things going on in the f1 tag are insane.

I’d like to ask the people who demand statements from drivers: what do we actually know? what kind of official information do we have?

There was an investigation because of a misconduct.

Do we know for sure of what nature this misconduct was? No.

Do we know if the leaked evidence is real? No.

The Red Bull statement about the situation left way too much room for speculation, causing new rumors and accusations to spread like a wildfire.

At this point journalists ask drivers (who are just as clueless as the rest of us) vague questions to write new baseless articles about the situation. Let’s be honest here, not even half of the talk is about that poor woman. It’s all about power dynamics, drama and how said drama might influence the paddock and driver line ups.

I’m 100% standing behind every person who’s brave enough to take a step forward and address wrongdoings of any kind. We should all take it seriously, no matter if we know what exactly happened or not.

But wanting drivers to issue a clear statement against sexual misconduct based on rumors is actually insane. Could they have handled the situations better? Absolutely. Should their pr teams make them sit down and learn better neutral answers? Without doubt.

But right now everybody should take a step back and a good look at the actual facts we have, and think twice about random quotes that can be out of context or linked as an answer to completely different questions/ topics. I do understand the anger and frustration, but the only one that we could actually call out for handling the situation poorly is Red Bull.

The plot is so gone it went missing during the Jacobite uprising and I ain’t seen it since.

Almost nothing has been confirmed publicly.

And the journalists are taking liberties with their questioning imo. They shouldn’t be allowed to ask anything not racing related to anyone except Max, and maybe checo. I feel bad for Max but he’s kind of fair game because he brought Jos into the picture.

But wtf is Kevin Magnussen, who’s probably seen Christian Horner from 20 three times in the last year, meant to say? Is he meant to confirm he’s read the rumours? Say he’s read the messages on a bootleg Google drive link? Give his personal interpretation of Christian’s selfies?

Can we all just be so real right now.

People call drivers out of touch but they grip on reality really is tenuous for some of these Twitter warriors

[firewoodwander]

Last line challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

Very sorry I forgot @valkeakuulas you tagged me a week ago!! I am here and I have a non-secret line to share <3

“Just shut up and get inside me,” he whispers, “before the Captain really does get involved—for shipboard misconduct.”

Lol

Somebody feel free to keep the game going, I see a lot of people on my dash getting this regularly keep up the great work 🫡

[aribaran]

jeff and will were kind enough to have me on the big gay fiction podcast to talk about game misconduct. if you'd like to hear more about my writing process, niche interests, and influences (as well as my inability to speak concisely, rip) check it out. 😊

[inlap]

thanks @estiebestieban for the tag!! i love any excuse to shill my fics ehehe 😚

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have.

dropping the gloves Oscar leaned down, bracing his stick against his knees. He tried to block out the sound of in-arena rock music and the roar of the tens of thousands of fans that made up the away crowd.

buck wild Of all the bars in all of Austin, George just had to walk into the one where Carlos Sainz was riding a mechanical bull. 

not quite twilight When Pierre walked into Esteban’s motorhome to find him hastily stowing away something in his mini-fridge and his mouth suspiciously dripping with a mysterious, viscous red liquid, he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

fool for you Esteban woke up with a layer of dread already seeped deep into his bones. 

everyone else in the room can see it Pato didn’t know who the guy was, but he must have been someone important.

have you ever thought just maybe "'Sup."

power play “The suit looks good,” Esteban smoothed his hand over the lapel of Pierre’s suit jacket. 

pennies and dimes (for a kiss) It was an embarrassing story, one better left forgotten. But that was the thing: it was an impossible task to forget your first kiss.

game misconduct The news dropped early in the morning. 

frequently secretly fond It was part of Alpine’s promotional shooting for the Austin race. ���Esteban and Pierre spend an afternoon at a real Texan ranch wearing stetsons, learning the ropes, and riding horses!” That was the idea, anyways. 

idk who to tag so if you see this and you want to play along, feel free to use me as your tagger! <33

[baybelletrist]

#everything about this is absolutely fucking sending me#[oprah voice]: A GAME MISCONDUCT FOR YOU! AND A GAME MISCONDUCT FOR YOU! GAME MISCONDUCTS FOR EVERYBODY!#wAIT no actually:#[mike leggo voice]: YOU CAN'T DO THAT#anyway i don't go here but this aspect of the tkachuk nonsense is........ Compelling#rat family values#knife shoe chase the oreo sport#occasionally a sports blog Tag source @redbelles

the beautiful game

also matthew, brady and grammy tkachuk

[ao3feed-hockey]

Do I Wanna Know?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/uSowtTX

by rabbiteatswolf

Taking a game misconduct after losing it on your best friend? It wasn't intentional, but it still ate him alive. Punch your best friend during a hockey game? What a way to ruin your relationship. Or build it.

or

Matthew Tkachuk is an idiot and refuses to let anyone love him.

Words: 1323, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of A Coyote and a Panther

Fandoms: Men's Hockey RPF

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Clayton Keller, Matthew Tkachuk, Jack Hughes (b. 2001), Florida Panthers NHL Team Ensemble, Arizona Coyotes NHL Team Ensemble, Alex Lyon

Relationships: Clayton Keller/Matthew Tkachuk

Additional Tags: Angst, Alcohol, but not a lot, and Clayton is oblivious, Hockey Fights, Light Angst, but mostly just soft hockey boys, Dumb Hockey Boys, Idiots in Love, but they dont know that yet, fell first fell harder trope, matthew is in denial, Or Is he?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/uSowtTX

[dutchwinter]

re: your tags on the domino miku post, i hope it's okay to answer through an ask, i don't like bringing up serious (and largely irrelevant to vocaloid) stuff on any of my vocaloid fact posts. nick robinson was one of the main people who helped find the app, he was exposed a while ago for sexual misconduct toward various young women (i think specifically those in the game dev industry). i don't want to provide any misleading info cuz admittedly i'm not that knowledgeable about what happened (i never followed him or any of his associates on social media) but you should be able to learn more just by searching the web. hope this helps

oh my god yeah asking is okay. i used to be a huge fan of this guy but ive stopped watching his videos in recent years and i didnt know abt any of this. thanks for letting me know! ill look more into it