#i am NOT writing out their whole name its nearly 2 am

[modelbus]

Hello!! I LOVE your writing, like I’m obsessed! So, I can’t tell if your requests are open, buttt if they are, I would DIE for some fluff turned to angst of a fem!reader who is in a group with cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy nicknamed the chaos squad by the fandom, where she is the least popular in the group and a rumour spread that shes only in it for the popularity, so they slowly stoped inviting her to streams and vlogs and ghosting her.

it could start with like three two sentence stories about the group (or something), how it was formed just fluffy moments, and then be like “but it didn’t stay like that for long..” and explain why she was subtly kicked from the group before a scene where shes streaming and gets asked about why shes not been in any videos anymore.

PHEW that was ALOT, if its to long you can obviously shorten it or just not do it- but if requests are open and you like the idea, I would love to see something like this!! <3

PS. You are super cool, keep up the amazing work!! (When you want to ofc)

-✨🌌🌙 Anon

Thank you so much! I tried my best to include everything :D This literally took me out of my writing slump

Part 2 :)

Pairing(s): cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Cut Chaos

The feeling of belonging was something nearly everyone chased after. After all, being out of place was simply… lonely. And, somehow, you found yourself slotting into the weirdest place in the world.

A handful of stupid friends.

You always found yourself drawn to dumbasses, in the most affectionate way. Like looks for like, you suppose. And shit, did you find some people that could make you cry laughing even on the worst days.

Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, Tommy. Four people that made the sun rise every day, that dragged you out of bed for the stupidest vlogs to ever exist. Fans adored the five of you together so much that you got a group name for the first time in your career: the Chaos Squad.

Truly, it was a fitting name. The things that the five of you got up to, you’re certain no normal sane person would do. But, well, your job as a streamer already set you apart from the category of “normal” a long time ago, so you definitely didn’t mind the messes you got into with them.

From Tommy dragging the group to an abandoned island, saying it’d be fun to try to escape (you fell out of a tree and Wilbur sprained his ankle), to screaming along at Lovejoy concerts, it felt like the five of you were unstoppable.

And God, did you love them. It didn’t matter how many times Ranboo hit his head on things, you’d still laugh. It didn’t matter that you literally passed out from laughing so hard once, you were still happy. Pure, unfiltered love.

The five of you against the world, forever. You could see it, in those sunny days where you grinned so hard your cheeks hurt (they were the first ones to make you do that—the realization only made you grin harder). The perfect idea of happiness.

Was it any wonder things didn’t stay that way, that perfect, for long?

A rumor.

It always seemed to start with one of those, nowadays. A simple murmur among fans that grew and grew, until you were closing out of twitter at 2, 4, 5 AM, debating if you should just delete the app and put your status on “Do Not Disturb.”

You accepted the fact that being a female content creator was going to be a struggle a long time ago. It was a fact, something you knew you couldn’t avoid, especially in gaming. Having rumors about you online wasn’t new. It would never be new, not as long as you were yourself.

But you thought you’d be past caring about them by now. You thought the tight panic that gripped your heart, made it hard to breathe, was a thing of the past. So stupid.

One private account turned into multiple threads, turned into trends on the trending tab.

Everyone thought you were using your friends, the chaos squad as a whole, just to boost your career. To leech off anyone’s subscribers, just for some money in your pocket.

The idea made you sick to your core.

How dare they? How dare they ever think you didn’t genuinely care for the four? That they were anything less than the lightness in your heart, the freedom on your mind?

Rumors.

You ignored them. Even the thought of addressing them made you feel pissed off like you’ve never been before. It was such an absurd idea! At the very least, you knew your friends would see past the hateful people.

Right?

It starts with an unanswered message in the group chat.

Unanswered messages weren’t new. A stray comment tended to get lost in the general mess that the group chat was, so you weren’t concerned. Just laughed to yourself quietly; it wasn’t important anyways, just a photo of a cat you saw.

Until it happened again. And again. Until more of your messages went ignored than responded to, until the group chat had less and less messages each day.

When the first vlog comes out, the process repeats. It’s on Tommy’s channel, of course. Him, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Wilbur. The chaos squad, just without you. It surprised you, because you never even realized they filmed a video, and normally all of you share upcoming videos.

All the warning signs were obvious, and you were too much of a damn fool.

You filmed one vlog with them after that, exploring a supposedly haunted house, before you woke up a month later and realized you hadn’t talked to them in a week.

One week turns into two, two into three, until you’ve realized what’s happened. You were gone, out of the picture. Happiness had slipped through your fingers faster than you could’ve ever comprehended, and now you were in a dark room—literally.

But what could you do? If they didn’t want you, there was nothing you could do to stop the unraveling of your universe.

So you did the same thing you did before them, defaulting back to what was safe: streaming alone.

Today, it’s just a mindless game. Yesterday was the same, and fuck, this isn’t the same anymore. Not when you don’t have Tubbo in the chat sending messages, or Wilbur using Text-To-Speech.

But you’re here, still streaming. Still going, no matter how tempting it is to just shut off your computer and pretend the last months of your life never happened.

There’s always fans though, and if anything cheers you up, it’s them. So your donations are on, allowing them to be read aloud while you play the silly little unpacking game.

“Where am I putting the diploma guys? Where does this go?” You ask, mouse hovering over the virtual object. “Maybe I’ll just put it under the pillow…”

“StarEmojis donated $15! If up is down and yes is no, how many sides does a triangle have?”

“Thank you, but… uh...” You narrow your eyes at the message. “None, it’s a circle?”

Shrugging, you drag the diploma in the game to under the pillow. The riddle sounds familiar, but not one you know the answer to. It sounds like something Wilbur would send in the group chat at 2 in the morning, honestly.

With that thought in mind, your eyes flicker over the user that donated it. StarEmojis. Not Wilbur.

You’re so stupid for hoping. For the jump in your heart, for the frantic searching.

“StarStarMoon donated $20! Why aren’t you in any Chaos Squad videos anymore? Love you!”

Air catches in your lungs, dread swelling in your chest as your hands still on the mouse and keyboard. That shouldn’t have gotten past the moderators, but it did.

And now you have to answer it.

It wasn’t like you could tell the truth: that you weren’t good enough. That even your best friends didn’t believe you over rumors from strangers online.

Any lie would have a chance of getting back to them though. Not that you can imagine them caring, not anymore.

You swallow past the lump in your throat that’s killing you, taking a breath in before answering. One chance to get the fans to move on, one chance to find the impossible balance between the agony inside of you and cool indifference.

“We’re all just busy.” You say, forcing a smile on your face.

It’s true, at least. Everyone is busy. Everyone except you, that’s it.

“Just scheduling problems. Wil- Wilbur has Lovejoy practices and performances.” You stumble over his name. Did you even have the right to call him Wil anymore? “And Tommy is just always busy. He’s the busiest person, I swear.”

Is that true anymore? You don’t know. He used to be, but you used to help force him to take breaks. Was he taking breaks? You’ll never know.

With another forced smile, you give a half-hearted shrug. “So yeah, just busy, don’t worry guys.”

It’s with baited breath that you wait, eyes scanning chat to see if they bought it. From what you’re seeing, they have.

“Now we need to reorganize these clothes, because they’re killing me like this—“

Your discord pings quietly on another monitor, and you scramble to open it. Just your mods apologizing for letting the donation go through. You send a quick message back to them before pushing the donation to the back of your head just like everything relating to the group you’re no longer part of.

What could you do, anyways?

This was out of your control.

[ihavethedreamies]

Rough Love | Easy to Expert (3 v4)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Han Jisung (Han) - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~3.1k

Dom!Han/Switch!Felix/Sub!Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Kinda Fluff

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Lingerie, Multiple Partners, Slight M/M (Kiss), Oral (M! and F! Receiving/Anal), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It)

Author's Note: Um…yeah this spiraled out of control. I am writing these in…descending/devolving order so the further I go the more intense these will get…so its only up (or down depending on how you see it) from here.

Edit (8/25/24): I changed the text/chat pictures to just text.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Changbin <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Your favorite color is red, right?" Felix asked out of nowhere. Jisung looked over at him, then back to the screen. An odd thing to ask while gaming…He was now curious and paused the game, setting the controller down.

"Why?"

"It is right?" Felix asked again and Jisung nodded, suspicious. Felix hummed and typed something into his phone that lay on the couch out of view of the other.

"Why?" He reiterated.

"I needed to tell (Y/N) what color to get." Is all Felix said.

"Why?" Jisung repeated. Felix was asking casually…too casually. When Felix didn't answer, Jisung lunged over him to grab his phone and the other guy yelled in protest, trying to wrestle him away. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, Jisung was stronger and managed to get away with the phone. Felix flopped onto the couch, glaring at the other as he scrolled through the phone.

☀️: They have animals, but I don't think anyone anywhere makes a Quokka set. 🐤: Is there like a chipmunk or a squirrel? ☀️: No...There is a set of mouse ears but they got with a Minnie Mouse set. 🐤: What do they have? ☀️: Fox, Dog, Cat, Rabbit, Horse, Cow... 🐤: Seriously, they have a cow set? 🐤: Okay. Do they have anything normal there or do you have to go to a different store? ☀️: No I can find something here...

Jisung scowled at the conversation and kept reading.

☀️: No I can find something here... ☀️: What's his favorite color? 🐤: Red

Three little dots bounced as you typed, and he waited nervously for what you might be saying.

🐤: Red ☀️: Red is popular. There is silk, lace, fishnet, leather...

What? Jisung was starting to put pieces together but was still confused. It didn't make sense.

"What the fuck is this?" Jisung held Felix's phone up to him and your boyfriend scrambled off the couch to grab the device. He looked at your newest message.

You were looking over the choices, feeling the different materials of the different sets. You glanced back at your phone, the dots popping up to show Felix was typing.

🐤: Pictures?

You huffed and snuck a pic of the display. Luckily the store was sorted by color, so the whole display was just lingerie sets in red.

"What is happening?" Jisung mumbled and opened his mouth to shout, and Felix waved his hand to call him over. He did so hesitantly, and your boyfriend showed him the picture you set. His face blossomed red, and he gaped.

"W-what?"

"Which do you like, on her?" Felix asked and his friend flinched back.

"What, why?"

"She picked you for a threesome." Felix shrugged. He wasn't dumb, he knew his friend would most likely agree. On the off chance he didn't, Felix could pick instead.

"A threesome!?" Jisung nearly screamed and the other man shushed him.

"Yeah. You in?"

"WHAT!?" The other man was trying to wrap his head around what was happening.

"You. In?"

"OF COURSE. Give me the phone!" Jisung shouted and yoinked the device from Felix, looking at the picture.

"Tell her to get the one on the top rack, second to last." He shoved the phone back to his friend who laughed and relayed the message.

🐤: Pictures? ☀️: Attachment Loading 🔄 ☀️: Attachment Sent 🔗 🐤: ✅ 🐤: He's in 🐤: Get the one with the black

You looked at your phone and smiled, feeling giddy. Unfortunately for you though you could not reach the one he picked so you had to signal to an employee. She stood on her tips toes and got it down for you and you held it up to make sure it was the right size.

"You need to try it on?" The worker asked and you shook your head.

"No, I've gotten this brand, so I know it’s right." You hooked the hanger on your arm and went to look at the thigh-highs and garters. You looked at the tag and it gave you the set number and you picked out the matching accessories.

"Your man sure is lucky." The worker cooed as you put the items on the counter to pay. You pulled out the card from your bag, it actually had Felix's name on it.

"Oh, he gave you his card?" She teased and you shook your head.

"Just for this. He's getting his friend to pay him back after." You realized what you let slip but tried to play it off.

"His friend, hm?" She just smirked, not pressing and you were grateful. You left the establishment and started back to your apartment. By the time you got home and had gotten all ready, the boys should be arriving.

True to your estimate, as you were straightening the thigh-highs you had on, the door dinged as Felix keyed in the code.

"You were all ready for this before I agreed?" You heard Jisung as they walked in.

"I knew you would." You could hear Felix too and knew he shrugged with his statement. You adjusted your headband; it was round black ears with red ribbons. Closest you could get to a Quokka. The actual lingerie was a red bra with black frills and the panties were crotchless, also with black frills. The thigh highs were black tight fishnet with red bows hiding the little lines of rubber that held them up. Your nails were painted every other red and black to match. Felix told you to wear the red liquid lipstick he got, but you were worried about getting it off since it was advertised to last 48 hours. A little ridiculous, who would need it on that long? The final touch was the butt plug you had to slide in yourself. There wasn't a matching tail to go with your set to add to the silicone plug, so you just got a simple black tail similar to a cat's. The only piece you already had was the black silk choker Felix got you some time back, a tag hanging off of it with his name on it. They were both giddy to see you all dressed up, Jisung even more so. He was still buzzing with the thrill of learning his friend's girlfriend wanted to fuck him too. For some reason, it made it even better that Felix was involved too. That was something to think about later.

"Love?"

"Ready!" you called back and bounced a bit on your toes, waiting for them both to come in. You were a bit shocked when Jisung came in first, expecting Felix to lead the way.

"Fuck, sweetheart~" He groaned. He still had his coat on even, and he very quickly shed it, throwing it to the ground. He was…eager, to say the least. Every item of clothing he removed he did so aggressively. You were too busy watching him to see Felix come in behind him. He snuck past him against the wall and his fingers brushed over your lower back as he passed, heading to the nightstand. The original plan was for you to start by helping Jisung undress, but he was moving fast. He untied his scarf, nearly choking himself in the process of taking it off. A button popped off his shirt as he nearly ripped it open, and your mouth watered when he got his tank top off as well. His tiny little waist and broad shoulders matched with his muscular arms and defined veins were delicious. He looked so good; you had made a good choice.

"J-Ji-" You tried to slow him down, coming forward to lay your hands on him. When you got close enough, he pulled you to him and you yelped. Your bare stomach pressed to his, and you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. Before you could say another word, his lips sealed over yours, swallowing your squeak. Felix didn't say anything, or move to stop him, so you relaxed. His hands wandered your form, and he groaned as his hand rubbed over your butt, and lightly tugged at the tail of your plug. You squeaked again and stumbled, resting your hands on the waist band of his pants to steady yourself.

"Slow down, Ji." Felix came up behind you and you pulled back, gasping for breath and Jisung stared you down. His eyes were practically on fire, and you jumped, startled when Felix's cold hands came to rest on your waist above where Jisung was fondling the flesh of your butt. Your boyfriend started to kiss along the side of your neck and over your shoulder. You whimpered, trying to tilt your head to allow him better access, but the other man descended to the other side and laid searing kisses there himself. Jisung's were rougher and he nibbled and sucked, Felix was licking your skin more.

"Felix? The rules?" You prompted and he grunted, grinding his own hard on into the cleft of your ass, pressing against the plug. You huffed and Jisung's hands moved from your butt, one going to the back of your head, pulling you back into a kiss. You felt his arm brush your side, and he hooked his finger into the belt loop of Felix's jeans and pulled him to grind into you again. As Jisung wrestled his tongue with yours, Felix's hand buried under your panties and stroked two fingers through your slick folds. The speed and intensity were already making your head swim, you had to steady yourself again with your hand on Jisung's chest. You whined when he pulled away and he let you go, stepping back so he could remove his pants. Your hand went behind you to palm Felix's bulge as he fucked two of his fingers into you, pressing against your back wall to nudge the plug. Your focus went back to the other man as his pants fell and he smirked as you watched intently. His fingers slowly hooked in the waist band of his tight black boxer briefs, pulled it up and over the tip of himself and let the garment fall. You nearly gasped. He was the same length as your boyfriend, but thicker. Your mouth watered and your cunt clenched around Felix's fingers. He smirked against your neck and as he removed his digits, he swirled them around your clit.

"Go." He lightly smacked your butt, and you scurried forward to kneel before Jisung. You marveled at his dick; he was so pretty in so many ways. As you reached to wrap your hand around him, he noticed Felix fiddling with his phone and you yiped when the toy flared to life, buzzing inside you. Felix still had not stated the rules, and you thought he might have mentioned them earlier to Jisung. Though, since the other man immediately shoved his tongue in your mouth, you weren't sure.

"Don't worry, love. I won't let him do anything you don't like." Felix assured and you nodded back at him, looking up at Jisung nervously. You knew the two were close, but there was something else flittering in the air. You were used to cute, soft little Jisung, a sweet smiling Quokka. This was almost a different man, there was a dark blaze in his eyes and an extremely cocky grin spread over his face.

"Open up, sweetheart." His thumb stroked your bottom lip, and you removed your hand from the base of his cock, your fingers couldn't even touch.

"F-Felix?" you called out, still looking up at Jisung.

"I'm okay with it, love." He answered and so you opened your mouth wide, tongue out. The man before you huffed, smug, then his hand dug into your hair and he fucked his fat cock into your hot, wet mouth, and down your throat. You keened as your nose hit his groin. He smirked down at you, your eyes already watering and looking up at him wide.

"Here, 'Lix." He motioned to your boyfriend who sidled up to you both and you felt him kneel behind you. One hand wrapped softly around your throat; it was bulging with his friends length buried in it. He could tell you were needing air and nodded to Jisung who pulled his hips back, and you sucked in air harshly through your nose when you finally could.

"That's her limit." Felix told Jisung who hummed and then he started to fuck your face. You tried not to moan too much, but your jaw ached in the best way. Felix grinded his still covered hard-on into your backside, holding your head in place for Jisung, his other hand rubbing over your stomach.

"Good girl, love." He cooed in your ear and a tear flowed over your cheek, face red. He allowed you to breathe every so often, but your vision still spotted, more from ecstasy than lack of air. You weren't sure why your normally, still soft, dominant boyfriend was letting his friend take control. You were far from complaining, however.

"I'm gonna cum, sweetheart." Jisung grunted and he pulled out further and you sucked in air and Felix nodded for him to go head, so he buried his cock as deep as he could and came. You swallowed over and over, gagging slightly as he pumped the hot and thick substance into you. Your cunt clenched, and Felix smiled to himself that you didn't cum yourself. You always did with him. When the other man pulled out, you fell back into your boyfriend, panting. Jisung's dick was still half-hard, drool and cum dripping from him and down your chin.

"Hm, so good, (Y/N)." He smirked and you flinched a bit when Felix's hand on your throat moved to wipe the fluid from your bottom lip. You were even more shocked when he sucked it off his thumb himself.

"You like Ji's cock, love?" You nodded in response, and you stood up at your boyfriend's prompting. Jisung snapped his fingers and Felix pulled something from his pocket and tossed it to him. It was a green lubrication bottle, melon flavored. He looked over the label and you shuffled nervously before Felix led you to the bed. Instead of having you lay on your back at the end of the bed, Jisung followed and laid on his back in the middle of the bed. Felix had you lean over, and you whined as he pulled the still buzzing plug out.

"Come here, sweetheart." Jisung called. Looking at your boyfriend, he nodded, and went to literally sit on his face. Facing toward Felix still, Jisung smirked and squeezed a glob of gel straight onto your pucker, rubbing it around then into you. It made you mewl, and he tossed the bottle down the bed, then his hands grabbed your hips, arms around your upper thighs.

"Ah!" You squealed when he pulled you down on him, his tongue thrusting into your hole. His tongue was even more dexterous than Felix's and longer too. You whimpered when he moved your hips himself, letting his tongue flick over your clit. He licked through your folds, then his tongue slid into your cunt, before going back to your ass. You finally looked up at your boyfriend. He had finally removed his pants and was standing at the end of the bed, stroking his cock. When your eyes met, he joined you two on the bed, then stood on the mattress so your face was level with his cock. You whined and obediently opened your mouth so Felix could slide in. Your eyes rolled at the familiar taste, and he smirked and started thrusting. With Jisung's tongue in your ass and Felix's cock in your mouth, your poor little pussy was feeling quite empty. When your boyfriend pulled back, you whimpered, and he huffed a laugh.

"Move down, sweetheart." Jisung got you off his face and you shuffled down as Felix sat on the bed himself. He shifted and settled himself between Jisung's legs, their cocks nearly brushing each other so they were in the right spots. You saw where it was heading and were a bit nervous. You were used to Felix inside your ass, and Jisung was thicker by a good bit. It was hard for you to wrap your head around what you saw as a submissive move on Felix's part to Jisung.

"Can you take both at the same time?" Felix asked and you nodded nervously, willing to try though.

"Good girl, sweetheart." Jisung cooed and wrapped his hands around your upper waist, your boyfriend’s on your lower hips. They helped you adjust, Felix kissing over your upper chest and the other man sucking hickeys over your shoulder blades. Your skin was on fire already, so when the heads of their cocks both pressed at both your entrances, it was like falling in lava. You let out a high-pitched moan, nearly squealing as they filled you, inch by inch. They were about the same length, but Jisung's thicker cock spreading you at the same time as your boyfriend's cock filled your cunt. They let you adjust after burying to the hilt, each one had a leg draped over the other's hip to be close enough for the position to work. Because you were shorter than them both, you were all about level and you shivered, trying to get used to being so incredibly full. Jisung shifted and you squeaked, his hand sneaking past your peripheral sight. You thought he was going to wrap his hand around your throat, pull you to him, but it instead went to the back of Felix's head. You blinked and gasped when Felix moved at Jisung's behest. Your boyfriend thrusted into you, and you fell forward onto his chest. You tipped your head to watch as Jisung pulled Felix closer, then sealed his lips to the other man's. Your walls clenched at the sight, kind of in shock. Felix was a bit surprised as well, but he just rolled with it. You wondered if your boyfriend was like this with any of the other boys, or just Jisung. When the one behind you let Felix go, he nipped the other's lower lip. Felix panted, burying his head in your neck, moaning softly. He had never been so submissive before and you both gasped when Jisung jumped his hips up, thrusting into you hard.

"Kay, 'Lix." He nodded and laid back more so he could leverage off the bed with his back pressed into the mattress. Felix's hips were forced up along with Jisung's with each trust, and he more grinded into you than anything, letting his friend do more of the work. Without both of them holding you, you would have fallen, your body shaking and weak as they fucked the sense out of you. Everything burned in the best way, and you felt tears flow down your cheeks as you whimpered over and over.

"J-Jisung!" Felix grunted and you could feel his cock twitch, signifying he was close.

"Hold on, 'Lix." His friend groaned, his hips pumping harder, and you hiccupped, trying to catch your breath.

"Okay, cum." Jisung ordered, and you weren't sure if he was talking to Felix or you, but all three of you fell apart together. Your insides filled with heat, so much that it spurted around the edge of where their cocks met you, making a sticky mess. Both you and Felix fell, boneless, him on the bed and you on top of him. Jisung chuckled, sitting up and you keened as he withdrew from you. He smiled at the sight of you two and Felix stroked your hair as you panted on top of him.

"Didn't know you were so rough, Ji~" You mewled as he got off the bed. He huffed amused and Felix mumbled into your ear, "neither did I.”

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 10

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Panic/Anxiety Attack. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f). Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6k

Series List: Here!

Miss Track 9? Here!

Hi!!!! Once again I want to apologize for taking so long with this. I can't seem to ever stay awake to do anything. That being said, here it is! This is the last main chapter of our little lovebirds. There will be at least one, likely two bonus tracks coming soon though :) Also there's a smidge of Spanish in here from Pedro, but the translation is included in the end of the sentence. I took some Spanish classes back in the day but I don't speak it and had to use Google translate. So if it ISN'T right and you do speak Spanish, please let me know lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these little cuties on their first date. There's a lot, a lot, a lot of kissing in here (sorry...) and overall they're just grossly in love lol. Please let me know what you think, and if you've seriously read this far, I LOVE YOU! This is my first series, and honestly my first fic other than the one I wrote in my diary lmao. Like the reader, I am incredibly inexperienced so writing a relationship has been a bit of a challenge and half the time I don't believe the actual words I'm writing. But I really only started writing it as a way to write down my daydreams :) So to have support means the world to me, and hearing people comment/DM me saying how much they relate has meant so much and makes me feel a lot less alone, because ultimately, it doesn't matter how fictional it is, most of reader's feelings are my own. To anyone else in the same boat, I get you! Hang in there. I think there's a Pedro out there for us all. Someday. Anywho, pardon my ramble. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. ❤

The next morning, you woke up and stretched your limbs, rolling over in your comfortable bed as the sunshine poured in through the window. At the shuffling of your body, Skipper groaned, wiggling a little in bed, nearly shoving you off the edge. You reached for your phone, blinking through your sleep a couple times before seeing a text from Pedro. “Good morning beautiful! I can't wait for our date today. I was thinking maybe we could start around 2:30 and spend the day together, if you'd like. But if that's too much, we can just make it a dinner date. Up to you which you would prefer. I understand either way. Love you ❤️”

He wants to spend the whole day with me!? And he sent me a good morning text and called me beautiful? Then signed it with a heart and love you?!!!! How did I get this man?

Your grin eclipsed your face, making you squint. If Mr. Grumpybutt weren't sharing the bed with you, you'd probably squeal and kick your feet. Tapping your phone screen, you typed out a reply. “Morning handsome ❤️ I would love nothing more than to spend the day with you. I love you too!” You sent the message before crawling out of bed gently, receiving a dirty look from Skip. 

“Alright Grump. Go back to bed. Geez,” you laughed. If looks could kill, you thought. He turned back on his side, letting out a grumble and sigh, resulting in a laugh from you. Acts like he pays rent and works 40 hours a week…

You took a relaxing shower, making sure to be all nice and fresh for your date with the man of your dreams. While brushing your teeth, you noticed he had replied. “Great, I can't wait. I'll be at your place at 2:30. :)”

“Can't wait to see you. What do you have planned? I'm wondering how to dress.”

“Wear whatever you feel good in, baby. I'm sure you'll look amazing. Probably something casual you can walk around comfortably in for the day. Maybe something a little dressier for the evening, but you don't need to carry it around. We will make a stop at your place before and you can change”

Wow he really has this planned out.

“What have you got planned, P? This sounds elaborate. You know you don't need to put in all that effort, I'm already yours ❤️”

“You deserve the world, my love.”

Dressed in a pair of leggings and a light sweater, you felt reasonably cute while still being comfortable for whatever activity Pedro had in mind. Plus, with the crisp November air, you would be nice and warm. You were just finishing tying your sneakers when your doorbell rang. 

You opened the door to find your handsome boyfriend standing on your step, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. “Mi amor,” he handed you the roses, kissing your cheek and hand. “Thank you Pedro,” your cheeks heated. “Come in,” you pulled his hand across the doorway towards the living room. Skipper pushed past you to investigate, causing Pedro to drop your hand.

“Well there he is! That handsome boy!” Skipper’s tail wagged and his butt wiggled as Pedro crouched to give ear scratches. “Oh, I love you too,” Pedro answered when Skip kissed his face frantically. A fit of giggles erupted from Pedro, making your heart swell with joy. He has the cutest laugh, and the fact that your dog is causing it was surreal. 

“You're just a beautiful boy! Aren't you?! Hermoso, igual que tu mamá,” he held Skipper’s face, kissing his nose. (Beautiful, just like your mama)

Your chest was filled with butterflies. Holy shit, he's charming. “Thank you, Pedro,” you said in a whisper, not even sure if he would hear. Turning his head from your dog, Pedro looked up at you, giving you a gentle smile; but the eye contact was quickly torn away when Skipper pressed a needy paw to Pedro's chest. Both of you now giggling, Pedro continued to pet Skipper, stopping to give him a hug and some more nose kisses.

“Alright. I gotta ask…” you prompted, causing Pedro to turn his head towards you again. “Are you just dating me to hang out with my dog?” You smirked.

Pedro turned back to Skipper, speaking in a low voice. “She's catching on to us buddy. We've been made.” You burst out laughing, Skipper looking over at you as if his plan really had been foiled.

Pedro gave a final pat on Skipper’s head before standing and walking over to you. “Nonsense,” he pecked a kiss to your lips. “I do love that sweet boy of yours,” he replied before turning his face to whisper in your ear. “But I'm absolutely enamored with you, Mamacita.” The hair on your neck stood as a chill rushed down your spine. You bit your lower lip, and he stared back into your eyes, leaning in for a passionate kiss. 

“You look beautiful,” he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You look rather handsome, yourself,” you replied. His hair was brushed back and to the side, his curls neatly swept and threatening to break free around his face. You wondered whether he asked for help to make his hair look extra nice for your date or if he styled it himself.

Running your fingertips over his patched salt and pepper beard, your hands found the small heart shaped patches near his chin. You brushed your thumb over his jaw before leaning in to press a kiss on the bare skin, causing his eyes to close as he let out a sigh. The whiskers tickled your cheeks as you continued kissing up his jawline, back across his cheek, and on his nose before pulling away to look into his eyes.

He opted to not wear glasses today, allowing you a closer look into his deep brown eyes which were softening under your gaze. “You ready to go, baby?” He asked you, his hand on your hip as he rubbed circles with his thumb.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. He wore a pair of dark jeans, tennis shoes, and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearm. He looked absolutely… incredible.

While you were grabbing your bag, he grabbed Skipper's leash. “Is Skipper coming too?” You asked, confused.

Skipper was twirling now, impatient to go somewhere.

“Sure is! Couldn't leave him out. But don't worry, you and I will have the night to ourselves,” he winked.

You looked downward, feeling shy and flushed. “Okay,” you giggled, clipping Skip to his leash and heading for the door.

“Do you want to take my car? You'll get dog hair and slobber in yours,” you offer.

“I don't mind! I love dogs,” Pedro replied, opening the door for Skipper to climb in the back seat. After closing the door, he opened the passenger door for you. Such a gentleman, you thought with a sigh, getting in and thanking him. 

As the car sped along, you looked over at your boyfriend driving the car. Boyfriend! That'll never get old… you thought to yourself. The air conditioning blew the few loose strands of hair on the top of his head, and his left hand gripped the wheel, making the veins on his hand prominent. With his right hand, he reached over, holding your left in his, resting on top of your thigh. 

He really did look beautiful. You couldn't help but stare at him as he expertly drove the car, hand flexing as he turned the wheel. His mouth pursed and he licked his lips, his tongue slowly jutting out to wet them. 

Damn, I want those lips on mine. That tongue in my mouth, you thought, feeling rather warm, despite the air conditioning swirling around the car.

“So where are we spending the day?” You asked, trying to quiet the flames of attraction licking at your pulse.

“It's a surprise! But we're almost there,” he answered, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

Pedro looked in the side mirror and laughed. “Babe, look at Skipper.”

You looked to see him with his head out the window, ears and lips blown back with the wind, his tongue lolled out to the side and blowing with the speed of the vehicle.

You both chuckled before you warned him, “your car is going to be covered in slobbers, Pedro!” He gave another quick look to Skipper before replying. “That's okay. It'll help me remember this day until I wash it again,” he looked over at you and smiled. It felt so natural. So… domestic, the two of you sitting in the car, going on a date, him holding your hand while driving, and the two of you laughing at your dog in the back seat. It was just perfect. Everything you dreamed.

He wasn't joking when he said you were almost there. It was only about five more minutes until the car pulled into the parking lot of the dog-friendly beach. 

Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of salty sea air and hearing the chatter of gulls. The breeze blew your hair gently, but the day was relatively warm for November.

After the three of you exited the car, Pedro opened the trunk, pulling out a large picnic basket and tote bag. “You really came prepared, didn't you? Pedro, this is really special. Thank you.” Your eyes felt teary and the smile you held was genuine. Nobody has ever put this much effort into anything for you. Other than him.

“You don't need to thank me. I want you to be happy and I want the three of us to have a nice day,” he added, pecking your lips.

“Wait.. Pedro,” you frowned. “It looks kind of crowded. Should I be nervous about paparazzi or anything?” Your stomach bubbled with nervous energy.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. Celebs come here all the time. I've come here before. If they do, they might take pictures, but usually it's pretty low-key here. Try not to worry too much. I want you to have a nice time,” he squeezed your hand affectionately.

“Okay. I trust you,” you smiled at him as the three of you walked towards the sand, finding a nice place to picnic. Pedro unpacked, laying down a large blanket before setting up the spread of sandwiches, veggies, and fruit. He offered you a cold drink from the basket and the two of you sat, using a metal stake to secure Skipper’s leash near your blanket. He flopped onto his side, content to be sunbathing with some of his favorite people.

The lunch consisted of peaceful conversations and laughter, learning more about each other despite having talked for several months now. It seemed you could never run out of conversation topics. But even in the quiet moments, it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt relaxing. You were both content being able to sit together in silence and just enjoy each other's company.

After your meal, you packed up the basket and headed for the car again to put the things away, opting for a walk unburdened by carrying items across the sand. Neither of you brought a swimsuit today, but despite the California sun, it was still November, and the Pacific ocean was never really warm, even in the middle of summer. That didn't seem to bother Skipper very much though. As the two of you walked hand in hand near the water, barefoot in the wet sand, he ran laps around Pedro holding him on the leash, occasionally splashing through the shallow water before joining close by his family again.

He would definitely need a bath later, but you didn't mind. He was happy splashing around, having a great day. You were happy walking with the man of your dreams, fingers intertwined together. Everything felt right. You weren't even nervous, despite the way Pedro looked like the most handsome man you've ever seen, or the fact that he was famous, and that you occasionally received stares from other beach goers. Instead of the usual first-date nerves people get, you just felt love.

“So,” he started excitedly, “Obviously I have most of this date planned, but I also wanted to check in with you and see if you had anything particular in mind that you wanted to do together.”

You thought for a second, letting a memory burn into your thoughts. “Well,” you began, "I don't want to sound like a total creepy fan or anything...” you added, cautiously. You kinda were, with all the photos of him you had saved on your phone (prior to deleting them before your first meeting in person). But that's not important right now, and he probably doesn't need to know that. Maybe it can be a funny story later.

Pedro laughed, that cute little wheezy laugh he does with his giant smile that makes your stomach do somersaults. Those same somersaults you've been getting since you first saw that smile on the screen and knew you were absolutely screwed until you got over this crush. Or, unexpectedly, when you walked hand-in-hand with him, like you were now.

“But…?” he pondered, looking down at you sideways, with a playful smirk and those big brown eyes that could make you lose your mind. They absolutely glittered in the sunlight right now, reflecting all the joy and love he felt for you.

“Okay maybe I'm a little creepy…” you nudged him with your side, still gripping his hand in yours as the two of you walked peacefully. The beach was crowded, but you and him, and Skipper, were the only ones here as far as either of you were concerned. There could be a loud scream and it wouldn't compare to the squealing in your mind. A firework show would simply feel like a projection of your sparks. A tornado couldn't sweep you off your feet as well as he could. 

“Is this where you tell me you've been watching me sleep through my window for the past three years or something?” He raised an eyebrow, playful smile still on his face as he licked his lips.

“What?” You squeaked, laughing. “No. I mean… I did have some pictures saved of you, and have maybe read a fictional story or two about you and your characters…” or a few thousand, you thought.

You cringed. Why the fuck did I say that out loud?!

Your cheeks felt hot and you diverted your eyes away from the man beside you, a nervous grimace painted across your mouth. He barked out a laugh, pulling you into his side for a hug. “Baby, you're cute. I don't mind that you used to read those. I don't even mind if you still do. No different than a book, right? Maybe it'll give us some fun date ideas.” He rested his head on top of yours innocently.

Oh, if only he knew the things you read.

“Right. Fun date ideas,” you smirked to yourself. He pulled away to look at you, eyebrow raising playfully.

“Sweetheart,” he interrogated in the same tone you use when Skipper steals a sock from the laundry, “what kind of stories are you reading about me and my characters, huh?” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. You'd feel nervous from his tone if he didn't flash a smug, knowing grin at you.

“Oh, you know…” you shrugged. “Just the typical romance stuff,” you turned, facing him and resting your hand on his chest, tracing a circle over his heart with your finger. You felt his pulse pick up under your touch, and saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“What kind of thoughts are going through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, raising his brow while you continued tracing little hearts into his shirt with your index finger.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” You winked before removing your hand from his chest. Starting to walk away, you continued your earlier statement. “Anyway, as I was saying-”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he interrupted, laughing. “Don't think you're getting out of this conversation that easy,” he gently pulled your forearm, stopping your movement and sending you twirling into his arms once again.

“Maybe someday I'll tell you,” you giggled, booping his nose. 

“Someday? Why not tell me now?” He ran his thumb over your lip, eyes drifting down quickly before returning to your eyes.

“I'll show you the fanfics I read about you when I know you're stuck with me and you aren't going to run for the hills,” you laughed nervously, only partially joking.

His playful demeanor vanished before your eyes, turning into a look of… concern? Oh no. This is it. Where he realizes what a mistake he made. Where he says he doesn't want to be together. Where he breaks my heart.

He gently held your arm, rubbing soft strokes. “Honey. What are you talking about?” His soft brown eyes searched your face. You gulped, not wanting to make eye contact, but he again pulled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “I…” you floundered for the words. “I don't want to scare you away.”

“Why would I be scared away?” he asked in almost a whisper, concern and sadness lacing his features.

“Because I just had this huge, huge crush on you. So, I read fanfics and I saved all your photos and I watched all your movies. I spent more time on social media looking for updates on you. Just so I could see you, or imagine what being with you would feel like. Like a total crazy person. An absolute psycho creeper.”

“Baby…” he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You aren't any of those things. I actually think that’s kind of sweet. Although, it makes me a little sad thinking about the pain you must have felt, having these strong feelings and not having found each other yet.” He brushed your hair out of your face, settling his other hand on your waist before continuing.

“Feelings make us feel a little crazy sometimes, and although I never read fanfiction about you, or had any pictures to save, I would be lying if I said I didn't take a screenshot of us that first night you showed me your face.” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

Fanfic about me? What? If that even exists, I gotta see what people are saying…

“You did?” His admission surprised you, to say the least. He sighed before answering. “Yes. I had - have,” he corrected himself, “a pretty big crush on you too, baby. But I felt like I was betraying you in a way, taking a picture of you during our video chat. I just wanted to remember your face if I never saw it again,” he sighed.

“I fell in love with you the first time I heard your song... I heard you sing about your feelings and daydreams. So… you admitting about fanfiction and pictures isn't all that surprising.” You lowered your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He stroked your cheek. You looked up and he continued. “I took that picture because I had already fallen so head-over-heels for you that the first time I saw your face, I stopped breathing. Although I knew I wouldn't be able to get the image of you out of my mind, I couldn't risk forgetting the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life.”

You dropped your gaze again, cheeks feeling a permanent state of warmth and butterflies dancing from your stomach to your chest. “You don't honestly mean that, Pedro.” You sighed. “I appreciate it, but there's no way. I really don't know what you could ever see in someone like me,” you whispered, barely audible. If you weren't standing so close, he would've missed it.

Instead of responding, he dropped his arms from your body. At the loss of contact, your heart sank. But when you lifted your head to meet his eyes, he was fishing around his pocket for his phone. Calling an Uber to leave? Your self-doubt pestered.

A few taps to his screen later and he held up his phone. There you were, sitting at your table in your favorite dress, with your favorite food and flowers on the table. You had the biggest smile on your face and in the bottom corner, you could see Pedro looking handsome as always, and absolutely smitten with you, the largest grin painted across his features.

At the sight of the image, your heart warmed. “See what you mean to me?” He asked, putting his phone back into his pocket. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you,” you choked out, leaning forward to mold your lips to his. They fit together perfectly. Like they were made for each other. He pressed back before opening his mouth ever so slightly to lick at your lips. Matching his movements, your tongues met, dancing a waltz in exploration as he pulled you forward by your lower back, seeming as if trying to get as close as possible somehow.

As the two of you paused for air, he ran his hand further down your back, just barely grazing the dip of your spine where your torso meets your butt. He gave you a look, almost to determine your reaction, asking permission to let his hand continue. When you didn't back away, going as far as pulling him closer around his neck and leaning in for another kiss, he pressed his lips against yours in return and let his hands wander a little further down. When his hand wrapped around the cheek of your ass, you squeaked. This is new… and I like it, you thought. His whole hand fit across your cheek. His huge hands. You whimpered as he gave a squeeze, like he was claiming you as his own.

“I love you too.” He finally responded, pulling out of the kiss to search your eyes. “So tell me… what was this activity you wanted to add to our date? The one you fear makes you sound like a creepy fan?” He let out a small laugh, brushing your nose with his.

“This,” you replied, pressing another kiss.

“Kissing?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your waist and resting his forehead to yours. “I think we've already been doing that, if I'm not mistaken.” He pecked your lips with his.

“Yes,” you kissed. “Well,” kiss. “Actually,” you pulled away enough to explain. “I read this interview you gave a few years ago about your ideal first date?”

“Yeah?”

“You said something about ‘a date that doesn't feel like a date. And

hopefully by the end, or throughout, very

good kissing.” You said, slightly cautious at your memorization, a bit nervous at the implication of what you're saying.

“Oh, is that what you want?” He flashed his eyes up to look at you, giving a devilish smirk. 

“Well, as someone who hadn't been kissed yet when I read it, I sorta lost my mind over it,” you laughed. “Obviously we've kissed before, but if it were up to me your lips would never leave mine,” you pressed your lips to his again.

“I think we should be able to make that happen,” he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before pulling you in for another kiss. “Mmmm” you sighed, pulling away from his lips. “Never gets old.” You held his hand in yours, the two of you walking again down the beach.

“So I was thinking,” he began, “since you said you deleted all your photos, and I only have the one, maybe we could make some new photos… together,” the corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile. You grinned and nodded excitedly. “Please!”

Pulling out his phone, the two of you took several photos together. Some just smiling, some with Skipper, and your personal favorites, the ones with him kissing you. This will make for a perfect lockscreen, you imagined.

As you approached the edge of a rocky cliffside at the end of the beach, a sea lion barked in the distance. Skipper perked up, tilting his head and letting his ears twitch before returning a “boof.” The two of you laughed, ushering your dog away from making any wild ocean friends, and headed towards the boardwalk.

After grabbing an ice cream at a candy shop, you were so deep in conversation and laughter that you didn't notice the girl off to the side looking nervous. Slowly she walked over. Skipper put up his guard, but as she approached, she gave a kind wave. “Hi… I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a big fan of you both.”

“Us… both?!” You responded, surprised. Pedro shook his head with a laugh before thanking the fan.

“Of course! Your music is amazing! I listen to it on my way home from work everyday. I relate to so many of your songs.”

“Wow, thank you so much. I never expected to be recognized. You're so kind,” you replied honestly.

She asked for a photo with you both, and after obliging, she mentioned before leaving, “by the way, I was following all the news that went down. I just want to say I think it's cute how you guys got together and you make a really cute couple. Okay bye! Thank you again!!” And with that, she scurried away, leaving you to look at Pedro in surprise. “Wow” you replied with a laugh. “I can't believe I'm getting recognized,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you feel about it?” Pedro asked cautiously.

“I feel… okay, so far. This was a nice interaction, and even though people keep looking at us… being able to be out in public with you, to show my face, kiss you, hug you, hold your hand,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “it makes it all worth it.”

“I couldn't agree more,” he looked into your eyes, giving a soft smile. You matched his expression before his face slowly faded into concern. “Do you think work will go okay for you? Now that it's out there?”

You took a deep breath, walking a few more steps with him down the boardwalk before replying. “I don't know. I guess so. Or… I hope so at least. I've had a few of my friends and coworkers message me kind words of encouragement. So at least I'll have some people on my side, even if anyone else has something to say. But really, they shouldn't. They already know me. They knew I liked you,” you leaned into him. “So they should be happy for me if anything. And if not, then… well, they didn't deserve to be my friend anyway,” you shrugged. “But I think I might take some time off to figure out everything, career wise,” you added. Still leaning into his side, Pedro unlatched his fingers from yours, opting to reach his arm around you, giving your shoulder a squeeze and rubbing soft circles into your upper arm.

“Baby,” Pedro began, his voice vibrating through your body as he leaned his head on yours, “I’m so proud of you. Have I told you how strong I think you are?” Your cheeks warmed and you grinned. “Thank you Pedro,” you wrapped your arms around his waist to hug him. “But I don't think I'm that strong. I struggle to open pickle jars just like the rest of us,” you joked.

Pedro gave a quiet snort. “You know what I mean, honey,” he laughed. “I don't mean physical strength. Though I'm sure you could hold your own in an arm wrestle, I mean your ability to handle all of this thrown at you so quickly. Your ability to adapt and stay cheerful about everything. You just keep continuing to amaze me,” he pulled his head away from yours to meet your gaze. He smiled softly and you thanked him.

“I don't feel very strong,” you mumbled, breaking away from his stare. “You are, though. You're strong, smart, beautiful. Talented. Passionate,” he kissed your lips.

“Pedro, I love you, but you always seem to use all these words I don't feel. You see me as someone completely different than the way I've always seen myself. I want to believe you, but-” you sighed. “No one else has ever shown any indication that those are true,” you pouted, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, whoa. Stop,” he halted your movements, pulling your chin up to his face. “Maybe they didn't see you, but I do. I feel all those things about you, and I'll spend every single day trying to prove it. I told myself I wouldn't get involved in romance a long time ago. But you changed all that.”

His chocolate brown eyes felt like they looked directly into your soul as he attempted to unravel your self-doubt. With a deep breath, you calmed enough to reply. “I love you, and I feel all those things for you as well. I'm glad you opened yourself up to love again.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I'm glad I met you” you sucked his lip. “I'm glad you're mine.” You kissed him again, deepening it, letting your tongue press gently to his and tangling together in passion before pulling away. 

Skipper had completely rolled into his side in wait for you both, between the conversation and the kissing. When the two of you broke away with matching grins, you looked over to see the sun had sunk down to the border between sky and ocean. In its wake was a bright orange sky, with pink, purple, and yellow streaks mixed in, as if a painter had gotten a bit too carried away with the paints. It was blindingly beautiful. 

Drawn to it like moths, the three of you walked towards the shoreline once again. You started to sit, but Pedro pulled you into his chest and fished for his phone. 

You gave him a confused look before he kissed you deeply and held out his arm. Unlatching his lips from yours with a pop, he held up his phone to you with a smile. In front of the vibrant ocean sunset, the silhouette of a couple shared a loving kiss. For once, it was you in this couple photo. You and the man you love.

You walked a little farther down the sand before sitting down just above the line of wet sand to admire the sunset. Pedro sat behind you, his legs on either side of you while you lay back into his chest. As you leaned into him, he hugged around your body, molding himself to you and tracing light circles into the skin on your arms, making the hairs stand on end and a shiver to run down your spine. 

Skipper flopped down nearby, clearly sleepy after a long walk and plenty of new smells. You ran a gentle hand down his back until you heard soft snores, then let him sleep, leaning your head on Pedro’s arm around your shoulder. “This sunset is beautiful,” you sighed, watching as the sun descended further below the ocean. It looked as if it was sinking deep below the surface, offering its light to the deep sea anglerfish miles below.

“It is amazing,” Pedro agreed, staring at you. “But my view is even better,” he added, and you could feel his eyes on the side of your face as he kissed your shoulder. You looked over at him, meeting his eyes, now sparkling with the orange of the sky. “Mine too,” you whispered, tilting your head to press another kiss to his lips.

When the sun went down completely, you headed to the car and Pedro drove back to your place so you could get ready for dinner. 

Pedro sat on the couch patiently, stroking the fur on Skip’s back while he snoozed, his head in Pedro's lap. In your bedroom, you searched for the perfect outfit to wear, finally deciding on a nice dress and sweater.

Hopefully the restaurant isn't too cold, you thought.

Walking out of the bedroom, you joined your boys in the living room, only to be greeted by Pedro’s jaw hitting the floor. “Te ves tan hermosa mi amor,” he stuttered in Spanish, flipping languages so easily when he was overcome with emotion. (You look so gorgeous my love.)

He gently stood, sliding out from below your dog, before walking over to you. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe and back up again, making you feel nervous. “You… you look… wow.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, his thumb grazing his lip. His pupils grew, making his eyes ever-so-slightly darker. You shivered under his gaze.

At your shiver, his demeanor shifted. “Shit, are you cold? Baby, you look incredible, but if you're cold -” 

“I'm not cold, Pedro,” you interrupted.

“Are you sure? I saw you shiver.” He stepped towards you, touching your arm. A buzz crept under your skin like a live wire. “It wasn't from the cold…” you replied.

“It wasn't from-?” He paused, the realization hitting him as he understood your shiver wasn't from cold but frankly.. the opposite. “Oh,” he hummed, settling his hand on your hip and stepping closer.

Another chill.

“Feeling excited for our date, huh?” His voice caressed into your ear as he kissed his way down your neck, pausing to take gentle nibbles on the skin of your collarbone, neck, and chin, before pulling you in by your waist to press a deep kiss to your mouth, his tongue finding yours. 

This was starting to feel natural, kissing. And you two were getting good at it together. Knowing just the way his tongue moved, finding just the spot to make you whine. You even managed to find a spot of him that made a groan slip from his lips nearly every time. Kissing him was addicting, and you had no intention of kicking the habit.

He pulled away, pulling your lip with his teeth as you let out a slight hiss. “I'd love to do this all night, but I promised you dinner, my love,” he kissed your cheek, his beard scratching your face just right. You sighed, agreeing to dinner and taking a minute step back. It felt much warmer in the room than before, and you could tell he felt the same. As your eyes drifted across his body, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Slowly sweeping his eyes down his body, it was evident you both wanted something beyond dinner.

But the gentleman he is, Pedro stepped forward again, taking your hand and leading you toward the door. 

Pulling up to the curb, Pedro opened your door for you before handing his keys to the valet. Linking his arm with yours, the two of you walked into an elegant Italian restaurant. He gave the waitress his name, and she led you back to a secluded room where a single booth sat.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated by candles and twinkling fairy lights. They lined the ceiling, mimicking the starry sky, were it not for the smog of the city. You two walked toward the only booth, settled against the nook of a window, draped with a soft, thin white curtain covering the view from outside. Only the reflection of street lights peered through the thin drapery.

Sliding into the booth, Pedro sat next to you, close enough to touch, yet due to the curve of the corner booth, you were able to converse without craning your neck awkwardly. At the center of the table was a single red rose in a vase, sat next to the glow of a candle. The table itself was rounded and draped with an elegant dark red tablecloth.

Grabbing the triangular folded napkin off your plate, you folded it across your lap, Pedro doing the same. He reached over to you, taking your hand in his. He rolled his hand over the top of yours, linking his fingers between your own and giving a gentle squeeze while offering a soft smile. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for the words he might be thinking. In his eyes you only found love and appreciation, pure happiness oozing from his features. When the waitress came back, she set a basket of bread with butter on the table and took your orders. 

The night went smoothly, chatter filling the empty spaces while you enjoyed your meals. “Pedro, I know this is technically our first date, but I gotta say, I think I consider our video chat for my album as the first date. It was the first time I felt like I might actually have a shot with you. You put so much effort into that night and it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. I didn't know I could fall for you any harder than I was, but you proved me wrong. And even though we didn't say it was a date, and I didn't have much experience before you, it felt more like a date than anything I had ever felt before. You're a real romantic, P.” 

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “That felt like the first date to me too. I knew for sure that I loved you that night.” Your cheeks heated, and you leaned your head on his shoulder. 

It was only when the bill arrived that you broke apart. Though you offered to pay, at least for your meal, Pedro wouldn't stand for that. After all, he told you, this date was his idea. So instead, you thanked him and left the restaurant the same way you entered, arms linked.

As Pedro pulled up outside of your home, you let out a sigh. It was already after 9 PM. You had spent nearly eight hours together and yet you dreaded the moment you'd be saying goodbye. It was almost that time already, yet it felt like only five minutes had passed.

Though the walk from Pedro’s car to your front door was rather short, you both managed to prolong it, walking as slow as possible. Clearly he wasn't ready for it to end either. Two love sick fools, just wanting to spend every moment together.

Teetering on the edge of goodbyes, you awkwardly stood by your door. There were no nerves at a first kiss, fortunately. There had been plenty of kisses shared today, and yesterday, and the day prior. In fact, if it weren't for breathing, eating, and other bodily functions, you'd be fine having your lips glued to his indefinitely.

So with that in mind, and the burning desire to spend more time together, as he said goodbye, placing a kiss to your lips and beginning to walk away, you grabbed his arm. “Wait,” you plead.

Pedro turned, looking at you as if you had something to say, or you had forgotten a sweater in the car. But instead, with your heart pounding in your ears, you quietly asked, “would you like to come in? I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.”

The question could be taken with so many potential implications, or none at all. All you knew for sure was that you wanted to spend more time with him. What happened next could be decided in the moment.

His eyes flashed surprise for a moment. He looked at you, trying to read your face for any details in your question, then stared at your front door before turning back to you and finally answering.

“I would love to,” he smiled.

And so the two of you walked through the threshold of your front door, buzzing with new possibilities just inside. But no matter how the rest of the evening takes place, you were in love, and for once, you were loved back.

The end! Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the bonus tracks, and once again I'd love to hear what you think! Reblogs are appreciated as well :)

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibleywrites @faithfullyyours2000 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @leiadjarin @hmneighbors @emmalostinwonderland

[s-che]

simplicity in design is a virtue, you cretins

i'm rereading Avery Alder & Ben Rosenbaum's Dream Askew / Dream Apart in preparation to finally do some serious editing of my game of intimacy, liberation, and faggots at sea Beneath Pirate Flags. among the billion other small things i'm reconsidering as i go over the bob/ndnm fundamentals, i'm really struck by how simple both these games are — elegant in a way i think i really failed to capture in the first public versions of bpf.

i have a theory about this, and it has to do with why i think the sprawling "always another sourcebook" approach taken by a lot of dungeons & drasprawling, commercially successful ttrpgs is fundamentally weak design — but first, here's one of them fancy 'keep reading' buttons you can click on to keep this post from being six and a half miles long.

hey, welcome back. lets get into the details:

bpf makes a critical break from the original ndnm games in the way its environmental playbooks work. mine are things like "the fort" and "the map" (see images) — individual iterations of broader concepts, much like the character playbooks ("legend", "dandy", "monkey" etc) are iterations of common pirate types. there are, almost certainly, multiple "monkeys" in one world — much as there are almost certainly multiple forts.

this contrasts with Askew / Apart's setting books — things like "varied scarcities," "society intact," and "goyishe world." these are intentionally broad environmental pressures. although "society intact" may be encountered different times in different places — with different names and different faces — it is, fundamentally, the same force.

2. this isn't necessarily a thing i want to change (although there are tweaks i'll be making to just about all the playbooks) but it is real interesting to think about how bpf got here, from a design perspective. the story is simple: bpf didn't start from playing either dream. it started with me reading wanderhome, and this design is borrowed (nearly) directly from there.

wanderhome, like bpf, has players create new environmental elements again and again over the course of a campaign — from the smallest kith to the largest citadel, you might be doing generation multiple times in a single session. wanderhome handles this by simplifying, simplifying, simplifying — a trait has one picklist, a nature two, and so the process of generation is quick and nondisruptive, and you're quickly able to create a populated world without losing yourself in any particular moment of generation.

(che, i hear you shouting, you baited us in with an inflammatory claim about d&d's bad design. get to the point already. ok. i will)

one of the things i like most about possum creek games as a whole (ha, got you again) is the way they can become sprawling without ever overwhelming players. this has been talked about a lot in advance of the yazeba's release — but it's true for wanderhome, too.

where both dream askew and dream apart have just six setting elements, wanderhome has (even if you disregard the seasons and holidays) a whopping forty-eight traits and thirty-six natures. it is — despite seeming small in the shadow of yazeba's — a sprawling game, and it's only through a tremendous efficiency and elegance in design that the whole thing doesn't come bursting apart at the seams. some of that is thanks to the ndnm token economy as a whole and some of it is good writing specific to wanderhome, but none of it is possible without an ethic that prioritizes simplicity — cutting the building blocks into their smallest fundamentals, so they can fit into something huge and, more importantly, comprehensible.

this all stands in sharp contrast to what seems to be the tendency in dice- and percentage- based games (told you i'd get there eventually), who — out of a need for a bespoke, simulationist tool for every situation, maybe — have a tendency towards appendices, supplemental books, and a proliferation of minutiae. i am talking about d&d here, although i don't think it's the worst offender — i still have nightmares about the hand-to-hand system from top secret, a game my dad only recently admitted he was "basically only pretending to understand the rules of" when he ran it for my friends and i when we were kids. i'm not saying all crunchy game design is like this — honestly, i think crunchiness is a totally different spectrum from rules-complexity — but i do think that, sometimes, in an effort to feel sprawling and more importantly substantial, games become inefficient and more or less illegible. it is hard to play d&d. it is hard to hold all those rules in your head. by comparison, dream askew, dream apart, and wanderhome can held pretty easily in your head. you could probably even reconstruct some of the playbooks from the design fundamentals (act weak = gain token, act strong = spend token, evocative picklist). the most important thing about these games is that the rules are evocative and they let you stay in the fun part of play for as long as possible, interrupted as little as possible.

let me make this totally clear: the fun part of a game can absolutely be tallying numbers and consulting armor ratings, but i don't think that's the reason some of these games get so big. the real answer is: cutting shit is hard! eliminating systems is hard! saying "this is not helpful, let it go" is really tough, especially when you're left with a design document that was shorter (and by extension, whispers the awful voice in the back of your head, worth less) than you were expecting. still, it's important to remember: 'good system design' is not the same thing as 'filling as many pages as possible.', even if that's hard to accept in an industry that feels like it has to be prices and paid by the page.

how does all this affect beneath pirate flags? well, that's simple — pretty quickly in my recent playtesting, i realized that pausing mid-session to create new maps, forts, ships, and so on sucks ass. it's fun to brainstorm with friends, but the environmental generation throws off the pacing of sessions in a way the wanderhome kith stuff just doesn't. why? there's too much shit in my environmental playbooks! wanderhome has two picklists per nature and one per trait. askew & apart have just one per setting element — and you only have to do it once per campaign. beneath pirate flags has five. five! it sucks! and cutting out that unecessary shit — even if i do want to straddle the middleground between dream askew & dream apart's simplicity and wanderhome's sprawling growth — is going to be the hard first step on the long road to getting this game where it ought to be.

[thesupernaturalhouse]

My favorite games lore is so good, and this cat named Colin- damn did the cretaors do a good job at making us dislike him- CAUSE I DO!!! He irritates me so much

So, basically the guild saved the world and now their being inspected by this prick, and he's just taking eveything so literal-

Oh also this isn't the first time they've saved the world liek dude, these cats are the ONLY thing keeping your sorry asses from being destroyed like calm your ass down please😭

Like, this cat has no fucking chill, a guild member is baking? 'waste of resources' someone is tagging along on a mission for moral support? 'questionable hero chocies' HE ACTIVELY GOT ONE SENT TO JAIL, the one who took one for the team and could've died from doing so to defeat the big bads this eyar and is judging them for romantic relationships

They were being so nice/tolerable to him and he's just taking every little detail and twisting it to what he thinks is going on, he's not even doing his job he's just doing it to be petty at this point, subconsciously I think but still, take a chill pill-

They are friends with Santa Claus, his not so evil brother, his duaghter- their friends with the games version of the God of love herself- I'm pretty sure their on good terms with the king and one of his kids

He's nitpicking and writing notes that will help judge their guild/families fate, and its not even on anything important it about their mood, how they make potions, how they make food- their making potions in advance so they don't gotta rush if they need them and he's judging them for it

They've timetravled which consequently made adult love children of 2 cats- I am telling you, I don't even knwo all the lore but what I do know- its amazing and I love this game so much

There is so much rep to btw, like there eis a whole convo between one cat and the God of love about aromanticism and how "you can feel love, you just feel it in diffrent ways" Their also asexual and nonbinary, but go by any pronouns

an openly lesbian cat just decked out in rainbow, there's an agender cat, bisexuals, lesbians, gays, it's awesome; and there neurodivergent rep to I believe

And these cats got so much personality to them

Anyways i just really want to see the guild liek. Turn on him because now he got one of their members arrested, and i swear these guys are like family

Is he just doing his job? Yeah, but he's also taking it way to far, liek dude....nobody cares if somebody has a mini bakery in the guild, you're just doing it cause you're mad you didn't get a bigger job and are taking it out on innocent poeple

And I'd say that it's just my found family talking but they relly are like a family- oh also said cat is named "purrcis" and he ONE of the adult timetravel love child, he's amazing, bro nearly died for this kingdom and your taking him to jail to have his magic tested or whatever, leave my poor introverted boy alone

I just want the guild to like, take Colin down a few pegs cause he's like a 19 year old who just got out of lawyer school and thinks he knows everything

Long story short, I don't care. This man needs to be taken down, like, 20 pegs because these cats could save his life and he'd nitpick how they fought

Even the kids hate him- they named a melon after him and blew it up and I love it so much

He might look cute but he is so irritatingly frustrating and such a PRICK

So when he does get taken down a few pegs, it's gonna be all the more satisfying

[running-tweezers]

After a lot of encouraging from my bestie @phantasmechanical, and some interest from a few folks here, I’ve decided to post the first part of an AU fic I’m writing (and have been hyperfixated on) with my favorite ocs. There are currently 6 parts written, over 13k words, and I’m still working on it. If you enjoy, I live and breathe off comments and reblogs and asks and such. And I’ll continue posting more here on occasion. SO, without further ado.

~ Pictures Of You - Part 1 ~

The year is 1989. Nate, with his sunshiney smile, his love of plants, and his mostly “normal” tastes, has fallen head over heels. There’s only one issue. He’s fallen for a gorgeous goth named Zephyr he only sees on public access TV once a week.

Rated: T

2255 words

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~ April 28, 1989 ~

Nate’s eyelids drooped a bit as the clock made its way closer to 1 AM. He would regret this in the morning. He always did. But it was worth it.

This Thursday night routine was all a secret for a while, until his sister started calling him out for nearly nodding off during their Friday lunch catch up sessions. He couldn’t hide it from her, he had to fess up. She had just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that figures,” she’d said. “You’ve always had a thing for the freaks.” She scolded him gently for not getting enough sleep and that was that, aside from the odd comment occasionally about his “hot TV goth.”

Nate poured a cup of the coffee he brewed just for this, hoping the caffeine would pull him through the next half hour without making him jittery all night. It was either that, or risk falling asleep on his uncomfortable couch again. Then he’d really regret it.

He settled in and flicked on the TV, switching it to the public access station before the screen could even fully light up. What played before varied from week to week. Sometimes it was this phony TV psychic, sometimes reruns of some televangelist, sometimes just infomercials selling Ginsu knives and love song compilations. He figured they couldn’t find someone willing to stick to such a late time slot. This week it was some New Wave guy with questionable talent and even more questionable haircut, banging on a Cassio keyboard and singing off key. He hit the mute button and sipped from his mug, waiting for the last few minutes to pass.

Soon the irritating Duran Duran wannabe cut out, and the screen filled with familiar color bars. He unmuted, just in time to hear the last bit of ringing dead air cut suddenly to the sound of guitars and deep droning vocals.

And there they were.

Behind a dimly lit desk in a brick walled basement, with thick black eye makeup and wild, ratted up hair, sat the whole reason Nate was still awake at this time every Thursday night.

“Welcome, night owls and creatures of the darkness.” The figure on the screen spoke to the camera, in a cold, deadpan voice, never letting their face show anything more than a wry smirk. “My name’s Zephyr and you’ve stumbled into my world for the next half hour. Aren’t you lucky.”

A phone number hung at the bottom of the screen as they continued their introduction. “If you have something worthwhile to say, call in. If not, don’t bother.”

They launched immediately into a long and rambling explanation of the song playing in the background that kicked off the show. Nate recognized the name of the band, ‘Sisters of Mercy,” from their music recommendations in the past. He barely knew anything about the goth scene they talked about. What he did know, however, was that they were gorgeous. There was something so entrancing about them. Something dark and mysterious that he couldn’t look away from.

Maybe Mick was right. Maybe he was just into freaks.

“Speaking of music, I got my hands on the single The Cure put out last week, the one from the new album coming out soon. I’m gonna get the album as soon as it hits the shelves, but whatever, I couldn’t resist.” Their face remained apathetic, but there was an undeniable light behind their eyes. It was obvious they were excited behind the thin mask of indifference. It was endlessly endearing.

“Fascination Street is the single, and it’s incredible, even the B-side is great—“ They paused looking down at their switchboard. “Looks like there’s someone on the line,” they muttered, fiddling with the buttons on the desk in front of them. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, me and my friend have a question,” the distorted phone voice slurred with the distinct cadence of a drunk college kid, with said friend laughing in the background. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

Zephyr breathed a weary sigh, and leaned back in their chair. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna fuck you either way.”

“Who the hell said I wanted to fuck you, you ugly fucking frea-“

“Bite me,” they flatly interrupted, disconnecting the line. “Anyway, Facination Street…”

Calls like that were too common. More people called in to be rude than to actually talk. It just seemed to come with the territory, but they handled them pretty well. It took a person with a ton of courage to come on TV and deal with people like that, just so they could talk about things they loved. That only made them that much more intriguing.

“I got the cassette version, the 12-inch vinyl has an extended intro, plus an extra B-side. I heard that extended intro for the first time at the club the other night. I swear it was a fucking spiritual experience. Being on the floor at The Underground, listening to The Cure, with all those other people? That's church to me. That’s my religion.” He continued with that same intensity, as if nothing happened. That was their favorite band, they talked about them all the time. He’d never listened to any of their music, but every time he saw one of their albums on the shelf at the store, his mind lit up with recognition.

He daydreamed occasionally of bumping into them at Sam Goody, just by pure coincidence. Striking up a conversation. Asking them about what music they’d recommend. Hearing their passionate rambling in person. It was dumb. They probably went to much cooler, underground record stores than some mall chain. But it was nice to think about.

“We have another caller.” Once again they paused their stream of consciousness and pressed buttons on the switchboard. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“The Cure sucks shit.” The voice on the other side of the phone managed to sound even more bored and detached, almost like it was a competition. “They’re nothing but mainstream garbage now.”

“Have you heard the new single?”

“No, but their whole last album was poppy bullshit.”

“It had a little bit of a pop sound, yeah, but the meat of what makes them good was still there,” they argued. “You’re acting like they became fuckin, Tiffany and started doing mall shows or something.”

“They might as well be.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Well I think you’re a poser.”

They noticeably bristled at the accusation. “I’m already halfway through my slot, I don’t have time for this shit.” They disconnected the call, looking a bit more shaken than usual.

Why did people call in just to be assholes? Maybe the anonymity combined with an audience was too sweet a deal to people like that. Nate genuinely couldn’t understand that way of thinking. Where was the joy in being mean to a stranger?

He glanced at the phone sitting on the end table by the couch. Calling in had crossed his mind before. He had even had the number dialed, ready to press the call button a few times, but he always chickened out in the end. What would he even say? He didn’t know anything about any of this. So he remained a silent observer, content to just watch this beautiful goth waxing poetic about the things they cared about.

They didn’t have to wait much longer for another call. They answered with a touch of exasperation. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, remember me, bitch?”

Without wasting a second, what was obviously the drunk caller from earlier, dove in with some of the most brutal nastiness Nate had ever heard anyone spew, much less a caller on their show. The onslaught of insults and hate speech seemed to be unending, attacking every aspect that he could think of. Nothing was off limits to this guy. It turned Nate’s stomach to be reminded so vividly how awful some people could be.

Zephyr didn’t look like they were faring well either. They scrambled to disconnect the call, blurting out a single shaky “fuck you,” before silencing him. They let out a heavy breath, their silence only accentuated by their faint music still playing in the background.

Something broke. The nonchalant, confident Zephyr he’d come to know through the screen was completely gone for a few brief seconds. Like they’d never been there.

They cleared their throat and sat back up straight in their chair, trying to regain composure. “Sorry about that,” they said, as solidly as they could muster. “Maybe we should just move on to something else…”

Nate made up his mind in an instant.

He grabbed the phone next to him and carefully dialed the on screen number, not hesitating to press the call button this time.

He twisted the cord around his finger as he waited to connect. The shift in Zephyr’s demeanor on screen let him know he’d gotten through. They looked defeated, like they were debating even picking this one up. He prayed that they did.

He saw the press of the button and heard the click from the phone a split second later.

“Hello?” They had dropped their regular script, too exhausted and annoyed to even finish it.

“Hi!” The first word out of their mouth was entirely too much energy, but once he heard that call connect, he was acting on pure instinct.

They relaxed, if only a little, obviously relieved to hear any voice other than the previous caller. “Hi?” they repeated, puzzled.

It hit him all at once, and he could only sit in silence for a split second. He was actually talking to them. Live on the air. He acted on such impulse, the only thought in his head was to block that asshole from calling back. He hadn’t thought past this moment.

“I uh… I didn’t really think through what I was gonna say.” Nate laughed nervously as he floundered for the right words. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I really like your show? I’ve been watching every week for the last couple of months. I don’t know much about all this, but I like hearing you talk about it.”

Zephyr looked skeptical. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No! No, I mean it!” Nate summoned every ounce of sincerity he could, to try and make Zephyr believe him. “You’re obviously really passionate about it, and I like watching you because of that.”

Yes. Because of their passion for their interests. No other reason. Especially not because he found them unbelievably sexy.

“Oh.” Zephyr’s drawn on eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, uh. Thanks, I guess.” They struggled to accept the compliment and still maintain that mysterious facade. Nate thought for a second he caught the beginnings of a smile, but it may have been a trick of the cameras.

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at the clock. Just over 10 minutes of airtime left. If that guy wanted to call in again, he would have plenty of time to do it. He had to stay on the line and get them talking about something else.

“So, I do have a question,” he began, thinking back to his stupid record store daydream. “If I just walk into any regular mall record store, what would you recommend looking for if I want to ease my way into listening to stuff like this? Or do I need to look somewhere else for the good stuff?”

“Oh, that’s a good question, actually.” Their eyes lit up again, and they were off. “You can find good stuff there, it’s just gonna be the more mainstream artists. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m always gonna recommend The Cure, obviously. And no matter what that prick earlier said, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their last album, and I feel like it’s pretty accessible. A good gateway, I think.”

He stayed on the phone, asking questions, and they were more than happy to answer them all. The next 10 minutes flew by, and soon he had a list of artists and albums scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Eventually, Zephyr cut themself off from the tangent they had been going on. “Oh shit, I’m almost out of time.”

“That’s ok, thanks for all the suggestions!” He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice, and it threatened to draw a smile out of the stone faced goth on the TV.

“Of course.” They answered, having turned that creeping smile quickly into a smug smirk, to maintain the illusion. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He hung up the phone and watched as Zephyr went through their regular show wrap up. Only now did he realize how hot his face was. He made his dumb little fantasy come true, if not in the exact way he’d imagined it. And they came out of the horrible first half of their show unscathed. That’s all he could ask for.

“I suppose that about does it then,” they said, fully back in the swing of things. “Thanks for spending some time with me tonight. And remember, there’s beauty in the darkness, if you’re willing to let it in. Goodnight, and I’ll see you next week.”

The screen went black yet again, and Nate switched off the TV. He had to try to sleep. But between the coffee and what just happened, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get there.

At least he’d have a hell of a story to tell his sister tomorrow.

[czigonas]

20 Questions for 20 Writers

Tagged by @sudsandspectre. Thank you! I finally remembered to fill one of these out haha.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 50 on my main and three on a side account.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 169,923 on my main and 13,908 on the side, for a total of 183,831, which I think is a neat number.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Star Wars, Deus Ex, Mass Effect, Pathologic, and Assassin’s Creed are the big ones. I have a few other fandoms, but usually only one or two per.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? They’re all Star Wars ones, funnily enough. And If (Well); There Are Frontiers, They Are Endless; It’s Coming Home; Made Whole Through Broken Jaws; and Time is a Thief (Gladness and Grief).

5. Do you respond to comments? Sometimes. I have been trying, but when I get busy in my offline life, I tend to forget to come back to them.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t really write angst, so they all have pretty hopeful endings at worst. I guess it’s probably Pandora’s Box (Mass Effect), though.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Haha well… since most of them are happy, I guess maybe Not With Haste (Deus Ex) since it’s pure fluff. Angel’s Chorus (Mass Effect) and And If (Well) are both fix-its, but the ramifications aren’t really explored beyond the end of the fics, so…

8. Do you get hate on fics? I don’t recall any. If I have, I’ve put it out of my mind immediately.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes. When I do, it’s very explicit and a one-shot. I write mostly m/m these days, but I have written m/f in the past. I will continue to attempt to write f/f smut that I am not embarrassed to post (so far, no luck).

10. Do you write crossovers? Only a few. Outside of Pinky Swear (Iunyasha/HP), I only have Mass Effect crossovers published, but I have a few others hiding in the depths of my WIP folders. I have a hard time with them usually, as I want the crossover to be plausible (which is easy with an entire galaxy+ to play with from ME).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Maybe? Someone asked to translate one of my Patho fics into Russian. I asked for a link when they had finished and never received one so I don’t know if they ever did it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes. Before I was comfortable writing my own smut, I had a friend help with a handjob scene. It's very funny to look back on. Also, all of my side account fics are technically collabs, where I fleshed out someone else’s outline, even though they’re posted under only one name.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? I simply cannot pick just one. I usually only have one otp per fandom though; I am nearly incapable of multi-shipping. Some of my favourites (in no particular order) are Fem!Shep/Zaeed, SoapGhost, Jensard, Burakovsky, Fem!Revan/Canderous, JangObi and Kagome/Sesshoumaru.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? As much as I want to say I will finish everything I’ve started, probably Pinky Swear. It’s half an HP fic, and I just can’t bring myself to write on it, really.

16. What are your writing strengths? Timelines, I think. Even for oneshots I will usually have a whole sidebar of notes on travel speeds or when something happened in relation to other things. It helps me keep things organised enough to slide little asides into gaps in the canon (or, as in There Are Frontiers, They Are Endless, co-opt canon for my own means).

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Keeping going on the longer ones. I want to write long fic, but I have a hard time keeping the momentum. Even with outlines, I need to be in the right mood and it’s hard to get there once the initial drive has faded. Also, endings.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I admit to doing it more than is probably necessary (pretty much exclusively for mando’a in my Star Wars fics) but my view is that if you are not going to have translations, the phrase must be inconsequential (one-off endearments or swears that are understandable through context clues, and are only added spice to the fic).

If you have translations, they should be screen-reader friendly. I use a CSS script that translates on hover (long-press on mobile) only when the creator’s style is shown. If the creator’s style is turned off, the translation is shown in square brackets behind the phrase. I find it easier than footnotes, but so long as the translation is easily accessible, I think that’s what matters.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Inuyasha? I think? Or a comic series I can’t even fully remember the name of (Skate Girl? Maybe?). Either way, any digital copies are lost on a very old FFN account, and the physical ones are even further gone.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? This is a hard question! Maybe Quinine (Deus Ex). It’s very dreamy, imo. Same with The Bends (Deus Ex). I think There Are Frontiers, They Are Endless will be very satisfying for everyone in the end, though.

Thanks for the tag! I certainly don’t have 20 people to tag, so I’ll just pass it on to @rigil-kentauris if they want.

[scover-va]

I need to know more about Michael's mom... Is she a cool mom?

SHE IS A VERY COOL MOM janet afton you will always be famous. to me

Im taking this as a chance to finally ramble abt her anyways so Janet's core inspo when designing her was to avoid 2 key things. Don't make her like Immortal & Th Restless's Clara (due to clara representing michael, not mrs afton, so i wanted to avoid that), and don't base her too heavily off of Ballora. I still have ties to Ballora's character (a music-based theme, blue-centric colour palette, im sure there were more basic ideas but everything else is more hc than themes to keep up) due to my hc thingy of each Funtime having ties to William's wife + kids, but yknow.

But yeah. Funky lady who played bass guitar + did backup vocals in a band during her high school and college years. Literally her and William dating can be summed up by "Seriously, what do you see in that guy?!" "He makes me laugh." bc she was and is WAY out of his goddamn league. Not just bc of the whole serial killer thing he was just an even bigger loser in college. Normal people dont develop a crush on a woman after she nearly breaks your nose and makes you bleed, William /j

But yeah uhh. I also dont like the idea of her being absent or neglectful purely because I got way too attached to her (i was originally gonna do that just to make things easy for myself but. Pretty lady,,, I am a very simple lesbian what can i say) so like. She obviously wasnt the greatest, most fantastic mom to ever exist given she was kinda maybe sorta well aware William was making some weird fucking clowns, but like. Hey. She tried. Also side note my reasoning for her being absent during the whole. Yknow. '83 event (and just evan's bday in general) is bc Evan + Elizabeth are twins and Elizabeth demanded a girls-only trip for her bday, and Janet promised Evan she'd do something just as special for him when she got back. That never happened bc he died lmao loser /j

But yeah uhh. Shes got a lot of regrets. Wishes she coulda done a lot of things better. Kinda dies with those regrets. Ive seen people say that one of fnaf's charms is that no character is 100% good and i LOVE that, and wanted to keep it up with Janet. Good mom and overall a good person, however made some bad decisions along the way and whatnot.

Im still working out specifics (ive been slowly working on a lil private fic abt her and william meeting + their early relationship) but uhhh. Minor notes that dont get their own paragraphs is that William sampled her voice for Ballora so yay easy voice claim, she had an on and off relationship with her band's lead singer (her name's Bev), her birth name is actually Janice Schmidt but if you call her Janice she'll knock at least 2 of ur teeth out, she's a runaway teen and got adopted by this older couple bc her home life kinda sucked (idk specifics yet), and also girlie has an extensive criminal record of minor angsty teen type charges. Also teen Mike dying his hair and then 2020's Michael's hairstyle are both kinda references to Janet's hair because he wnated to look less like his father. Thats all ty. No read more bc you WILL look at my mrs afton post, boy /j

Actually no theres more that im remembering as i write the tags and edit a few details. Back to her and William because god im insane about them. So for starters it. Well i was gonna say Janet was def the first to flirt but i think William definitely developed a crush first and they only kept talking bc of said crush so its kinda up for debate. Anyways yeah at first it was a HUGE sorta like "Well he's funny especially when I fluster him so this can be just a fun lil thing" but because they chatted more they def kinda like. Clicked more. William was a huge fan of listening to her music (from. a distance. he looked kinda like a creep but at least janet only misinterpreted it once) but like *specifically* janet he didnt give a fucking shit abt the rest of the band. Uhh. They had their first run-in and janet kinda. Well. Punched him in the nose before he cleared up that he is NOT a pervert or anything weird like that (bc a guy that looks older than he is staring from a distance when there is a clear crowd he could join kinda gave janet the Wrong idea), then they later bumped into each other in the hall and chatted for a bit, then they kinda just kept "accidentally" running into one another. Uhhh. Some cigaerette-themed flirting and a house party later, yay dating :] can you tell where the current cut-off of the fic is /j Also idk how to put this down properly but they are both runaways and can kinda. Get that vibe from one another. Literally Michael is like some fucked up abomination of the both of them between the troubled past + weird situationship thing + runaway stuff + a lot of minor details that arent important rn. I just. Yeah Janet means the world to me go thru her tag on my blog for some art. Not all of my janet art is posted but the non-posted stuff is all concept work/doodles or just. Shit im too embarrassed to post lmao. Anyways NOW im done ty for reading

[thelov3lybookworm]

When Shadows Ward Off Darkness (Part 3)

Chapter 3

Prologue Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Making up and New revelations are in order

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: this part is again, a lil boring, if i say so myself, but its picking up, so im happy

next part will be fun to write 😏

@acotargiftexchange

•○🌑○•

During the whole time Gwyn and Draven had been friends, they had explored hidden and secret places in the kingdom and turned them into their secret haunts, some of them being a dilapidated building, a forest rumoured to be haunted, though Gwyn could not find a single troubled soul other than herself and Draven in that forest.

Unless they were the ghosts people were talking about, then the forest definitely was haunted.

The small strip of land walled off from the rest of the beach was one of their favorite places to spend time at.

The sun nearly singed Gwyn's skin, but she pushed on, determined to get to the beach and take a dip in the cool, calming waters.

All she could do was hope that she didn't encounter him there.

The beach was one of the places where Gwyn found peace, something about the waters calming her soul, and Draven simply followed her around as if he had nothing else to do.

Which, considering he was a prince, checked out.

But her luck had begun being cruel to her lately, and she found him pacing along the cliffside, kicking up sand in his wake, his obnoxious cloak fluttering behind him, and just watching him wear such heavy clothes, Gwyn felt the urge to rip off her own skin, the heat and sweat drowning her more than the sea ever did.

She decided to step forward, and then instantly cursed whatever part of her brain had decided that.

He whipped towards her, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Gwyn."

She ignored him, beelining straight for the water glittering under the harsh sunlight.

"Gwyn! It was not that big of a deal, okay? You are mad as if I killed your cats with a stick." He yelled in frustration, following behind her.

She turned back to him, gaping. "I would stab you to death with the same stick if you killed them. And it was that big of a deal, because now I don't know what was real and what wasn't, Draven." Then something occurred to her. "Is Draven even your name? Or is that another lie?"

He sighed, massaging his forehead. "It is my name. In a way." Before Gwyn could ask the question, he answered. "It's my middle name."

"And what is your actual name?"

"Azriel. Azriel Draven Black."

Gwyn rolled that name around in her head, admitting to herself that it was a beautiful name.

"Will you listen to me now?"

Gwyn lifted her chin, huffing. "You have exactly two minutes."

Draven's- Azriel's- jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Fine. You wanted to know why I didn't tell you I was a prince. It was because I knew you hated royals."

"I still had the right to know who I was becoming friends with."

He gave her a look. "You really want me to believe that you would not have kneed me in the balls the moment I let it slip that I was even distantly related to the King and Queen?"

Fair enough.

"Look Gwyn, I did not ask for this life, and everyday I try my best to be worthy of it."

Gwyn nodded, not knowing what to say.

"Also, I am not a real prince. I was not born in the royal family."

Gwyn's jaw slid to the ground. "You really were picked from the garbage then?"

He blinked, his lips twitching. "Yes, Me and Cassian were, technically, picked from the garbage."

Her cheeks reddened. "Sorry. I did not mean to say that."

He grinned slightly. "Come, I'll tell you more."

•○🌑○•

It had been a few days since Gwyn forgave Azriel, and everything was going a little too well.

Something was bound to happen.

That morning, Gwyn found out that she was a half breed.

Half human, half merfolk.

She had been shocked, but not as much as she would expect to be.

She guessed it had something to do with the blood in her veins, how the way her body knew how to move before she did in water, how she knew how to swim before she even knew how to speak properly.

Currently sitting on the dining table opposite her uncle and next to her sister, Gwyn wondered how she had not figured it out earlier.

Catrin squeezed her hand, offering a small smile, and Gwyn knew she was pretending to not be affected by this information so she could be strong for Gwyn. But the disbelief in her eyes and her shaking hands stated otherwise.

"Why are you telling us this now?" Catrin questioned her uncle, who leaned back in his chair, sighing.

"Because according to the laws of the mer people, you and your sister have now come of age, and that means you must visit the queen, your mother, and stay in the kingdom for atleast a year. The queen will then decide if you get to leave."

Gwyn took in that information, her head reeling. "Why have we been living with you then?"

"The merfolk are a people who prefer to have the females in power, the goddess they follow dictating that females are pure and fertile, giving them the gift of life and having them rule justly and in a way good for the people. The males are either brought up by the blessing of the queen, or outcasted. Bearing a male child is a disgrace to the goddess, and despite it being rare that a mal is born, not many mer females like to raise the male child. The children who are removed from the mer society either die, or they are taken in by the mer people that worship the devil and live on the outskirts of the underwater kingdom."

"And how do you know about all this?"

Their uncle gave them a look. "I was one of the few half breeds, since humans are hated by the mer people, despite the half breeds proving to be more useful than a normal mer." He grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously a lot like fucking mer standards. "Your mother, my distant cousin, sent you two to me to take care of until you were of age."

Until you were of age.

That did not sound like a blessing.

"And now what?" Catrin mumbled, her hand tightening on Gwyn's. Apparently she had come to the same conclusion as Gwyn had.

Their uncle smiled ruefully, standing and turning away to walk into his room. "You will be meeting your mother soon."

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @bibliophiliaxvignette

[sysinfodump]

Recently our system has gone from Host, 2 younger versions of host, An introject of an irl but as an alien, an Angel, and another younger version of host (6 headmates) to: Host (who has not fronted for a good week???), the introject alien guy (who is now dormant and was co-host), 1 little, 2 different Sans-related fictives, A regretevator fictive, 2 different creepypasta related fictives, two different number-named headmates (One is a princess and one is a 'destroyer of worlds') , One (or two) Class of 09 fictives, at LEAST 3 Fnaf fictives, a Minecraft fictive, A danganronpa fictive, and then some random guy who just sits on his bum all day. (around 18) And the worse part is, for one, it;s only been about a year since we found out we are most likely a system, and everyone is just deciding to like, hop out of the closet or something. It's like you have 5 different baby showers and 7 of your kids all come out as gay within 24 hours. And the funniest part is about 4-5 people will randomly come into front, arguing or something, and they always come into front t the worst times. Mid-algebra test? Perfect, let's havveeee...Ohh, yeah! 6 people, fronting, right now! And uhh, should any of them actually KNOW the material..? Nahhh, that's not necessary. (We failed the test, btw) And nearly everyone in the system is super argumentative, so a lot of them time irls will just be like, "Why do you enjoy arguing so much?" and its like, idk, ask them"?? The only reason I am able to even remember this all is because we have a notebook where most headmates go in and just write as much info about them, what's going on, etc etc, as possible because it makes it 100x easier for the next person to look at and be like, "Ohhh, that's why *blank* is mad at us..'' Anyways uhm ranted a lot whoops. !

When your first accepting you're a system and this whole alters thing is normal to feel super overwhelmed when you start to discover a lot of alters at once, when denial is less more alters tend to show up so yeah I can totally understand how confusing and mind blowing can be seeing like 18 not known alters at once

But you're kind right that it's fun and kinda annoying when random alters come to front in the worse moments

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

It’s not about diversity, equity, or inclusion. It is about arrogating power to a movement that threatens not just Jews—but America itself.

By: Bari Weiss

Published: Nov 8, 2023

Twenty years ago, when I was a college student, I started writing about a then-nameless, niche ideology that seemed to contradict everything I had been taught since I was a child.

It is possible I would not have perceived the nature of this ideology—or rather, I would have been able to avoid seeing its true nature—had I not been a Jew. But I was. I am. And in noticing the way I had been written out of the equation, I started to notice that it wasn’t just me, but that the whole system rested on an illusion.

What I saw was a worldview that replaced basic ideas of good and evil with a new rubric: the powerless (good) and the powerful (bad). It replaced lots of things. Colorblindness with race-obsession. Ideas with identity. Debate with denunciation. Persuasion with public shaming. The rule of law with the fury of the mob.

People were to be given authority in this new order not in recognition of their gifts, hard work, accomplishments, or contributions to society, but in inverse proportion to the disadvantages their group had suffered, as defined by radical ideologues. According to them, as Jamie Kirchick concisely put it in these pages: “Muslim > gay, Black > female, and everybody > the Jews.”

I was an undergraduate back then, but you didn’t need a Ph.D. to see where this could go. And so I watched, in horror, sounding alarms as loudly as I could. I was told by most Jewish leaders that, yes, it wasn’t great, but not to be so hysterical. Campuses were always hotbeds of radicalism, they said. This ideology, they promised, would surely dissipate as young people made their way in the world.

It did not.

Over the past two decades, I saw this inverting worldview swallow all of the crucial sense-making institutions of American life. It started with the universities. Then it moved on to cultural institutions—including some I knew well, like The New York Times—as well as every major museum, philanthropy, and media company. Then on to our medical schools and our law schools. It’s taken root at nearly every major corporation. It’s inside our high schools and even our elementary schools. The takeover is so comprehensive that it’s now almost hard to notice it—because it is everywhere.

Including in the Jewish community.

Some of the most important Jewish communal organizations transformed themselves in order to prop up this ideology. Or at the very least, they contorted themselves to signal that they could be good allies in the fight for equal rights—even as those rights are no longer presumed inalienable or equal, and are handed out rather than protected.

For Jews, there are obvious and glaring dangers in a worldview that measures fairness by equality of outcome rather than opportunity. If underrepresentation is the inevitable outcome of systemic bias, then overrepresentation—and Jews are 2% of the American population—suggests not talent or hard work, but unearned privilege. This conspiratorial conclusion is not that far removed from the hateful portrait of a small group of Jews divvying up the ill-gotten spoils of an exploited world.

It isn’t only Jews who suffer from the suggestion that merit and excellence are dirty words. It is strivers of every race, ethnicity, and class. That is why Asian American success, for example, is suspicious. The percentages are off. The scores are too high. From whom did you steal all that success?

Of course this new ideology doesn’t come right out and say all that. It doesn’t even like to be named. Some call it wokeness or anti-racism or progressivism or safetyism or critical social justice or identity-Marxism. But whatever term you use, what’s clear is that it has gained power in a conceptual instrument called “diversity, equity and inclusion,” or DEI.

In theory, all three of these words represent noble causes. They are in fact all causes to which American Jews in particular have long been devoted, both individually and collectively. But in reality, these words are now metaphors for an ideological movement bent on recategorizing every American not as an individual, but as an avatar of an identity group, his or her behavior prejudged accordingly, setting all of us up in a kind of zero-sum game.

We have been seeing for several years now the damage this ideology has done: DEI, and its cadres of enforcers, undermine the central missions of the institutions that adopt it. But nothing has made the dangers of DEI more clear than what’s happening these days on our college campuses—the places where our future leaders are nurtured.

It is there that professors are compelled to pledge fidelity to DEI in order to get hired, promoted, or tenured. (For more on this, please read John Sailer’s Free Press piece: "How DEI Is Supplanting Truth as the Mission of American Universities.”) And it is there that the hideousness of this worldview has been on full display over the past few weeks: We see students and professors, immersed not in facts, knowledge, and history, but in a dehumanizing ideology that has led them to celebrate or justify terrorism.

Jews, who understand that being made in the image of God bestows inviolate sanctity on every human life, must not stand by as that principle, so central to the promise of this country and its hard won freedoms, is erased.

What we must do is reverse this.

The answer is not for the Jewish community to plead its cause before the intersectional coalition, or beg for a higher ranking in the new ladder of victimhood. That is a losing strategy—not just for Jewish dignity, but for the values we hold as Jews and as Americans.

The Jewish commitment to justice—and the American Jewish community’s powerful and historic opposition to racism—is a source of tremendous pride. That should never waver. Nor should our commitment to stand by our friends, especially when they need our support as we now need theirs.

But “DEI” is not about the words it uses as camouflage. DEI is about arrogating power.

And the movement that is gathering all this power does not like America or liberalism. It does not believe that America is a good country—at least no better than China or Iran. It calls itself progressive, but it does not believe in progress; it is explicitly anti-growth. It claims to promote “equity,” but its answer to the challenge of teaching math or reading to disadvantaged children is to eliminate math and reading tests. It demonizes hard work, merit, family, and the dignity of the individual.

An ideology that pathologizes these fundamental human virtues is one that seeks to undermine what makes America exceptional.

It is time to end DEI for good. No more standing by as people are encouraged to segregate themselves. No more forced declarations that you will prioritize identity over excellence. No more compelled speech. No more going along with little lies for the sake of being polite.

The Jewish people have outlived every single regime and ideology that has sought our elimination. We will persist, one way or another. But DEI is undermining America, and that for which it stands—including the principles that have made it a place of unparalleled opportunity, safety, and freedom for so many. Fighting it is the least we owe this country.

[enneamage]

Leading off that anon and your response (I'll be honest I wasn't aware you have pro-Dream anons lurking, that ask definitely tasted of bad faith but I digress), the most likely answer is, as much as people treat NDAs as these rare and scary things, is that it was their contracts ending. Likely built frustration or new sense of freedom with what they can say that's spurring on this sort of new wave of harshness and crit toward the dteam coming from multiple former members.

Nearly all large scale servers where content is produced have legal contracts in place, more than likely NDAs. For the DSMP, where there were multiple monetary events, i.e. MrBeast's challenge, which sits funnily at the average NDA length of being roughly 2.5 years ago, plus it's general scale and popularity, there are simply no feesable circumstances where there were no legal contracts in place for at minimum a portion of its players. The idea that there wasn't is a little naive but it's fair with the representation of NDAs in media.

I could also go into Aimsey mentioning directly there was legal reasonings preventing him from speaking out on Dream's allegations (Dream's arguable legal actions against Amanda do not inherently prevent a member of his server showing support to the potential victim unless, again, there's NDAs in place) - but that's a whole box of frogs.

So yeah, the DSMP contract or NDA would likely have involved some aspect protecting the image of Dream and or his company as the legal owner of the server, so some sort of discouragement against what would be deemed slander - maybe at a push required engagement but there's nothing definitive on that bar from his plans for DSMP 2. Tommy's skit is damaging to Dream's image and explicitly negative that's no question, and he would't have been able to do it under the legal contract that must've existed, so the idea that the catalyst for it all is this contract ending seems increasingly likely.

(It's 1 AM as I write this I hope it makes some sense)

I've been sitting on this one for a little bit, since I know that NDA theory is a thing that floats around and I don't know enough about the law to comment, but I generally think of what's been happening as more organic than that. I genuinely believe that the wave of negativity towards Dream is a result of people reaching the end of their rope and snapping/giving up rather than a legal thing. (Inversely I think it took people this long to fully make up their minds and be public about it, which NDA theory seems to be trying to preserve-- the Idea that everyone stepped back immediately and just couldn't say it.)

I think a lot of people feel frustrated and disappointed with the direction that Dream went (If the fandom feels it I imagine their coworkers aren't pleased about it either) let alone the allegations. Now that it's been about a year, it's safe to say that Dream never recovered from that moment in a lot of ways, especially socially. People have distanced, opinions have gone down and Dream's name isn't clickbait-able in the positive way it once was, which I do think people were holding out for as a valuable social connection. I think a lot of ex-DSMP creators may feel stood up and screwed over with what happened to the server, and Dream is the face of the problem. Between this, the problems he already had and his slowed content production it got easier to think of him as a net negative that people felt better off without, especially since the social cost for associating with him is so high.

Back at the start, there were legal issues with the idea of a defamation case. Defamation cases get stronger when public opinion turns visibly against someone because of an accusation, so Aimsey was probably talking about dynamics like that.

[kohakhearts]

2 weeks ago i started writing a valentines fic, then got busy with school and stopped. i am now even busier with school than i was 2 weeks ago but suddenly i am feeling inspired. as long as we stay sub 10k im sure this will be Fine. but since its wednesday, heres a wip in case i dont finish it until next month (highly probable):

“Those are for you, you know.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. When he whirls around to face her, Chloe raises an eyebrow at him.

“I brought them in this morning. There’s a card. Didn’t you look?”

“Why would I have?” he asks defensively. “It’s not like I was expecting anyone to send me flowers. You’re sure they’re for me?”

With a sigh, she steps around the counter and approaches the table. Deftly, she plucks a cream-coloured stock card from between the bulbs and passes it to him. On one side, his name is written in large cursive letters—fairly unmistakable, all things considered.

On the other side, cramped handwriting reads, Dinner at 6:00? Beneath that, there is an address Goh vaguely recognizes as being near the port.

Peering over his shoulder, Chloe remarks, “I always thought Ash was the straightforward type, but maybe I was wrong.”

“This…isn’t Ash’s handwriting,” Goh says slowly. “Also, he’s got plans this evening.”

“Really? What’s he doing?”

“Didn’t say. I assumed he was meeting up with someone for some extra training. He’s got that exhibition match soon, so he’s been a little tunnel-visioned…”

“Maybe this is his way of making it up to you,” she suggests. “It must be a surprise! And he probably ordered them online, so the florist must have written the message. It’s pretty thoughtful, isn’t it?”

It is, which is kind of the whole problem. Ash is compassionate, sure. Painfully genuine at times. But thoughtful isn’t really in his repertoire.

considering this is me, you get one guess who those flowers are REALLY from

[blondiest]

Questions for fic writers, number 41!

HELLO FRIEND!! <3 i love this question ty :3

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

okay so i am going to blatantly openly cheat and link 2 fics that have really, really stuck with me for similar reasons despite being quite different (the reasons being "great atmospheric descriptions" "environmental storytelling" "characterization" and "dialogue")

FIC 1: alignment by @lightyaoigami. fucking god-tier characterization imqho (this can be said for everything monica has posted frankly). incredible level of attention to detail imo but done in a way that makes it look almost effortless. specifically the way monica goes about conveying little bits of info about the characters... idk, she has a way of doing it in such a superbly natural way that it makes the characters feel quite vivid & real. the characters feel like they have a life outside of the story (<- paraphrased but stolen from @quicktimeeventfull bc xie articulated it better than i can). also, her dialogue makes me certifiably bonkers.

because i am insane i will be including textual examples. i would apologize for my long-windedness but in truth i am not sorry at all <3

example 1: dialogue [context: Light at the end of a relatively terrible date with a woman named Naomi]

“Just look at yourself,” she said, gesturing to his whole body with her vape. “People who eat pussy don't stand like that.”  “Like what?”  “I can't describe it,” she replied matter-of-factly. “You just don't carry yourself in a pussy-eating fashion.” She blew another plume downwind, the mango scent floating towards the harbor.  “Okay,” Light said, making a mental note to stop standing the way that he was standing. “Well. I understand. Sorry. I hope you liked the food at least. Can I call you a car?”

^ I WILL LITERALLY NEVER BE THIS FUNNY IN MY LIFE.

example 2: environmental storytelling / characterization [context: Light looking around L's apartment. obsessed w/ the amount of atmospheric storytelling here.]

A desk with a tiny chair buttressed the window, through which shone rays of post-storm sun. Piles of Criterion Collection Blu-Rays and dog-eared thrillers likely sourced from Little Free Libraries nearly obscured the sunflower-printed desk mat below. Light fingered the spines of the books, split between fiction and instructional; among them, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, 1Q84, A People's History of the United States, and, hidden under several broken-spined Gillian Flynn novels, a brand new copy of Playing Well With Others: Your Field Guide to the BDSM Community with a crisp receipt from Greenlight Books still sticking out of the closed cover.

i just. i'm on my knees.

FIC 2: puppy dog by @quicktimeeventfull . BIG into the atmospheric descriptions in kyo's writing as well frankly & this is i think my favorite of xirs, though i am very enamored w/ xir writing in general as well <3 i'll mention that it's probably a smart idea to read the warnings for this one in the notes if you're squeamish!

example: environmental storytelling [this feels so vivid to me and i am deeply obsessed with the phrasing and word choices here]

There is an eeriness to hotels at night. The hallways are always so bright and the doors seem to extend farther than they do in the day. Here, the walls are beige and are carpets criss-crossed with a pattern of diamonds. L rubs his eyes beneath the fluorescent lights, then shakes his head and pads to the end of the hall, through and down the stairwell. He gives a little nod to the concierge, then walks outside into the black night. Outside there is a parking lot which looks vast in the dark, and stars above, spilling a dull grey across the sky. Past the parking lot he can see only the highway which bleeds into the overpass, but he knows the city is there, further on, its lights leaking into the sky. It doesn’t matter which city, really. After a while they all become the same. His mind gets so fuzzy with the miasma of them.

AUGH!!!

since this is a oneshot i am actually going to avoid including another excerpt as i don't want to just like. wholesale post spoilers of the whole damn thing hgdsfsdf but i really love the dialogue in this one too <3

ANYHOW thank you for this ask, and for bearing with my lengthy answer gdhsfsdhfjs <3

fic writer asks

[briarborealisocs]

hey! this is chance & here’s week 2's prompt. when you write or create an oc, do you like to reference elements from your life? if yes, name a few. if no, why not?

it took me AGES to find the time to answer this but here i finally am!!!

yes. i LOVE referencing elements from my life when it comes to ocs. it makes it so much easier to write compelling characters when youre pulling events and emotions from reality rather than from thin air. i've had characters with similar family dynamics to me, similar strengths or weaknesses, similar thought processes; ive drawn directly from my own experiences when writing things like anxiety attacks or dissociation... i think the biggest example though is the first time i donated blood i almost passed out, and when i had (mostly) recovered, i walked back to my dorm, opened my laptop, and proceeded to write fanfiction about a character nearly passing out from blood loss. LMFAOOO I HAD TO GET THE FEELINGS DOWN

here's a snippet

“What’s going on?” The gruff voice registered only distantly through the sudden ringing in Ranboo’s ears, and oh, shoot. Oh, Prime. The dim room grew dimmer, Ranboo’s vision tunneling, and he realized belatedly that, hey, maybe he shouldn’t have teleported so soon after being healed. His head felt stuffed with wool.  “Shit, shit, shit, Blackout, c’mere.” Ranboo thought he might’ve felt an arm or two lower him gently to the ground through the thick haze around his senses. “It’s fine,” he said, voice seeming to float away from him. “I’ll be fine.” “No, no, Blackout— Come on, stay with me, man.”  “Is he passing out?” asked a different voice, and Ranboo waved his hand flippantly from where he was reclining. 

funniest thing ive ever done tbh. the whole time i was almost passing out i was like "oh no sorry i wouldnt want to bother you its ok you can go back to doing your job haha" GIRLLLLL YOURE BASICALLY PASSING OUT FROM BLOOD LOSS PLEEEEEEEEASE!!!! so obviously i projected onto cranboo notable people pleaser (in a superhero au but still)

so yeah i love projecting onto my blorbos, be they ocs or otherwise. actually a large amount of my currently active ocs are self inserts anyway so. LMAO. yeah im a projector

[spamton-addison]

okay all the questions I can think of before I have to leave

1 general backstory overview?

2 pronouns?

3 favorite food, movie, snack, book, and person?

4 an object they really like

5 sexual/romantic orientation(s)?

6 how many friends do they have?

7 cursed by the visions or doomed by the narrative

8 are you interested in maybe them hanging out with my characters sometime maybe…….

9 does their name have a meaning?

10 are they yours or did you revamp them? (Or are they just a blorbo?)

11 do they like rain?

12 favorite tv show

13 old television colorbars? Yes or no?

14 touch tone telephone or rotary dial phone?

15 why do they stand out to you so much?

16 I am out of ideas. I will send more if I think of them and pls keep writing if you’d like/can

OKAY RAPIDFIRE LETS GO

1. sale is the oldest sibling of the addison family (hes 28 usually, but around 24 in some aus . hes always the oldest sibling though) he was happy once and then his best friend got cucked by a capitalist bastard which caused him to completely shut down emotionally in some fucked up misguided attempt to protect himself and his siblings from further harm its a whole thing . he is constantly overworking himself in order to avoid thinking about what happens and refuses to let himself cry ever

2. pronouns are he/him this man is CIS

3. favourite food: nothing i can think of specifically but he used to really like sour things and meat . he hates beef specifically though

favourite movie: he doesnt give himself time to watch anything recreationally. he probably wouldve liked deadpool/deadpool 2 if hed ever watched them though (sorry. my movie knowledge is limited and im projecting)

favourite snack: coffee is not a snack but it is to him . he probably ate coffee beans before the horrors as a joke

favourite book: he doesnt give himself time to read but he probably would like fantasy books . think like the dragon stones trilogy or eragon . also maybe the hunger games

favourite person: thatd either be his (missing) best friend Loveluck, his sibling Reverb (in aus where reverb exists) or his sibling Radio (in aus where radio exists)

4. he has this one specific pen that hes used for years and never throws away . he would rather spend a fuck ton of money getting ink specifically for this one pen than just buy a ton of new ones cheap . it is his favourite pen . otherwise he has a photo of him and his siblings he keeps in his room, but hes kept it facedown since the horrors (it hurts to look at)

5. hes aroace :D

6. anywhere between zero and maybe three . depends on the au

7. doomed by the narrative but also the narrative wants to save him . he is dead set on dooming himself . but also he suffers in nearly every au so i think that counts as doomed by the narrative

8. he doesnt get out much anymore and is kind of mean to most people but ABSOLUTELY . young sale (pre shutdown) is tolerable and a fun guy to be around probably

9. take a wild guess what the name Sale could possibly mean/silly

10. sale is my oc but he was Supposed to just be a generic yellow addison to act as the scapegoat . it got a little out of hand and now hes my everything

11. ya he likes the rain its grounding . when it rains is like the only time he lets himself take a break from work because he can just focus on the white noise of the rain . its nice to him . rain is actually one of the few things he likes now that he Didnt like before

12. he hates like everything to do with tv shows . probably the pokemon anime

13. possibly

14. touch tone . he has a personal vendetta against rotary dial phones

15. CLAPS HANDS TOGETHER. HE IS MY FAVOURITE COLOUR, HE HAS SPIKY TEETH, I PROJECT ONTO HIM AN ALARMING AMOUNT, IVE HAD HIM AROUND A YEAR AND A HALF AT LEAST BY NOW I THINK? HE STANDS OUT BECAUSE HES JUST SO FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN IN A WAY UNIQUE TO HIM (and trust me there are a Lot of characters that are so fucked up around him) HE IS SO FULL OF CONFLICT AND FEAR AND HES PATHETIC AND ID LET HIM BE MY DAD BUT ALSO IM A LITTLE GAY FORHIM .

16. sale has like. two main character arcs to me, regardless of au . notably being his first arc, in which he digs himself into a terribly awfully deep hole, and his second arc being then realising he wants to get Out of it again . although in the aus where he Does get to heal he is never the same as he was before it all, he still heals and gets to move on with his life . even if it takes him literal years to get to a point where he can even start .

despite how poor his circumstances are (largely by his own fault but caused by the disappearance of loveluck) and despite how hard it is for him to keep going every day he never wants to die . he wants this hell to end but he doesnt want that end to be by dying . he wants to live . he wishes he still could . but he is so scared and he lets that fear control him and that is why he so routinely makes the shittiest decisions . he is trying his best but his best right now is terrible because of how centred he is on avoiding the past .

he means so much to me