#i have more ideas for others for fun but ye

[teaboot]

I feel like if you're using a lot of disposable plastic bags in your day to day life, you've gotta do something sustainable to make up for it. Like using bamboo toilet paper or eco friendly cat litter or something, yknow

Honestly I exaggerate for comedic effect, while I DO routinely use ziplock bags to hold spaghetti I cook maybe once a month and the bag itself is usually for freezer storage. I actually throw out maybe one bag a week? I DO hate washing plates and tupperware and junk but that usually just means I eat sandwiches without a plate.

I agree though that needless waste should be avoided, and I do avoid it- biodegradable bags and recyclables, empty butter tubs used to store leftovers, etc.

This said, though, not applicable necessarily for myself but for a lot of others- I feel that it's importat to remember that there are many people who legitimately NEED things like plastic straws, or catheters, or pre-packaged foods

And the idea that that's a moral failing that individuals need to personally make up for when a single billionaire blows out more CO2 in a long weekend than I will in my whole life on a superjet meet-cute in the Bolivian rainforest between humvee drag races funded by the river-polluting textiles plants they planted in a third world country to avoid EPA laws and give an entire village stillbirths and stomach cancer is an idea that those very same bigwigs have spent a LOT of time and money investing in planting in the public psyche.

Like- Glass bottles are infinitely recyclable, so why are so many drinks in plastic now? Loads of drinks manufacturers used to buy them back and clean them for re-use, so why did they stop? If they chose to make something out of a limited and environmentally irresponsible material, why is it my failing to track down a correct process of disposal for them? What if there are none in my area? Do I lobby for more recycling plants in my area? Do I set aside some of my limited time outside the pain factory of my job- which I have more than one of, thanks to rising costs of things just like that drink I just emptied- to properly dispose of this company's waste FOR them?

Say coca-cola just rolled up to your town and started dumping millions of empty plastic bottles in the street, going, "wow, you should really think about building and staffing a recycling depot, it would be really shameful of you to just put these in the trash." When companies purposefully use materials with limited lifespans- because yes, even plastic can only be reused so many times- and tell you it's your own fault if it harms the environment- that's essentially what they're doing, just with more steps.

Yes, its important to be as environmentally concious as we can in our day to day life, but responsible sustainability is not catholicism. We don't get good boy points from our lord and savior Captain Planet every time the average low-income household gathers together to hold hands and repent for a single-use plastic that allows them to access something they need.

Entire families could eat trees and shit dead lithium batteries for years and still not do as much damage to the planet as an average dye plant or braindead celebrity does in a week just for fun, and I'm mad about it

...this went on longer than intended.

TL/DR: DO recycle and minimize waste, but don't beat yourself up over the little waste you can't avoid, and follow the money.

EDIT: Part 2

[catherinnn]

Snowed In

a fluffy Christmas friends to lovers fic between eddie x fem!reader

words: 2.3k

divider by @strangergraphics ♡

The group was going away for the holidays. Steve's family has a cabin in the mountains and it was completely free this year.

So Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Eddie and you decided to have your own holidays.

The cabin was... well, it was huge. It had three separate bedrooms, the distribution was: Nancy and Jonathan in one, Eddie and Steve in the other, and Robin and you in the last one.

The cabin was in the middle of the woods as well, so you had to go groceries shopping on the first day and make sure you're not missing anything. And as you and Nancy were in charge of the shopping, you also got some Christmas decorations for the house. It wouldn't feel festive if there weren't.

Problems started when one morning Steve woke everyone up feeling nervous and frustrated. We had gotten snowed in.

We couldn't open any of the doors and some of the windows. And to top it all, it was even colder inside here than before.

So your plans of going on a walk or hiking together were out the window.

"We have some movies here, I can see if there's anything kinda good" Steve offered.

"We can also bake some cookies!" Robin says—she was secretly thrilled of not being able to go hiking as she had absolutely hated that idea in the first place.

"Or... you know, we can start decorating and make this place look more festive" Nancy proposes.

"Oh yes! We bought the cutest things at the store" You say excited, getting the box with the ornaments.

"Alright, we can decorate, bake cookies, and once we're done, we'll see the movie" Jonathan plans and everybody seems to agree.

"Fuck, I think I left my cassettes in the car" Eddie realizes when he looked for them to play something while we decorated. Steve and you secretly high-five at that, being sick and tired of Eddie's music already.

"Oh well, they weren’t very Christmassy either way" you fake sympathy for him.

"Just turn on the radio, maybe they'll play some holiday songs" Steve says.

And just like that, the afternoon goes by.

Eddie and you are in charge of the living room decorations while Robin and Steve start baking.

"This is the tree?" Eddie asks me disappointed. It was a small tree that could fit perfectly on top of a table.

"Well, we couldn't get the big one! It was too expensive! Plus, what would we do  with it when we leave?" you explain.

"This is just sad" Eddie keeps analyzing it.

"Shut up! Don't say that to the tree," you shove him playfully. "Just help me decorate it!"

"Fine, let's choose the five ornaments we can put on it!" Eddie jokes.

"Look at this one" you pout taking a big sparkly red ball.

"It's bigger than the tree, sweetheart" Eddie laughs.

"You're not being festive, Munson!"

"Sorry, my apologies"

You start hanging the things on the tree until it looks colorful and sparkly enough.

"This is the star we got" you take it out of the box to show it to Eddie.

"It's actually very pretty" he admits.

"I know, right?" you say, very happy with it.

"Here, let's make it feel Christmassy enough" Eddie gets up and grabs the tree, lifting it high up in the air.

"What are you doing? Be careful!" you say.

"You have to stand on your tippies to put the star on the top, just like on a proper tree" he keeps making fun of your tree but that’s actually cute. So you stand up with the star on your hand and stretch as high as you can to reach the top.

Eddie laughs since you still can't reach.

"You're too tall! Lower it a bit!" you demand but he refuses.

"It's like on an actual tree, you'll have to keep trying" he grins.

"Alright, fine" you say and go to stand on the couch so you can reach it.

"Oh, come on!" Eddie rolls his eyes and moves away from the couch.

"No, that's cheating! The tree can't move on its own!" you complain. You grab Eddie by his arm and pull him closer again, finally placing the star at the top. "Aww, it looks beautiful"

"Decent enough," Eddie jokes and places the tiny tree next to the TV. "Is that it here? What else do we have?"

"We have a few more decorations yet. What are the rest doing?" you ask.

"Robin and Steve are in charge of the cookies, Nancy and Jonathan said they had a surprise, I'm not quite sure what it is" he says.

After you finish with the few other decorations, Robin and Steve come out of the kitchen with flour all over their faces and hair. As if they had a food fight (which was probably what happened.)

"Cookies are done!" Robin announces and Steve starts choosing the movie.

Nancy and Jonathan get back too after a few minutes.

"What were you two doing?" you ask but they just shrug and act mysterious.

"Alright, we only have The Goonies and Halloween" Steve announces our options.

"Oh Halloween, please!" Eddie calls.

"No, we're not in the horror mood anymore, I vote Goonies" you say. The girls agree with you and Steve ends up voting for Goonies as well. Eddie thinks it's just because he's too chicken with horror movies.

You take the big couch, sitting next to Eddie and share a big blanket because it's still really cold in here.

The morning of the 25th finally comes around. Robin and you wake up excitedly and run to wake the rest up as well.

You enjoy the comfort of the movie and the freshly baked cookies. And at one point, you end up too cuddled up with Eddie under the blanket, claiming it was only because you two were still cold. But it's really because his hugs have always been the best ones. It's like you two fit like puzzle pieces, perfectly together. And to be honest, it was supposed to be a comfort night, with a comfort movie, comfort food, it was only logical to cuddle with him to get the ultimate comfort experience.

The idea for this year was Secret Santa, since you were already spending on this holiday trip, and to be fair, it adds excitement to guess who it was.

You got Nancy, for whom you bought a new journal with a lot of cool and handy features, and a necklace with her initials.

The idea was that the gifts should have a special meaning between the two of you so it would be easier to guess. The journal was because she had told you she was in need of a new one already and she wanted one of these. Similarly with the necklace, one time when you two were out shopping, she was looking for a new necklace but couldn't find anything that really convinced her.

As she opens up the presents, she gasps when she notices what they were, a big smile forming on her face after.

You're very bad at this game since you're already grinning and swallowing your giggles of excitement.

She takes a few seconds, considering. Then, her eyes land on you, as if she was checking on your reaction to confirm her theory. That is what gives it away.

"It's you!" she says content. You let your laughter free, the last confirmation Nancy needed. "I love this! How did you even remember this?"

She gets up and hugs you. "Thank you, I love it!" she repeats.

The round of gift opening continues, Steve realizes Robin was his Secret Santa. And Eddie follows, realizing Nancy was his, from the brand new leather jacket she got him since she always tells him the one he currently has is looking worn out and the zipper doesn't even work.

You go to open yours next. With the excitement of a little kid.

The first thing you see is a mixtape, named 'Our Songs.’ It would be a more helpful clue if you could see what songs it had on it.

The next thing you grab is a big mug, like the ones you love. It's a white mug with drawings of little flowers all around it. Very delicate and simple, but it's exactly your style.

The last item is in a little box. Opening it, you find two rings, two matching rings. They are designed to fit together perfectly.

The smaller ring is simple, with a finer band and a small bat raised on its surface.

The larger ring is bold and bigger, with the same bat design cut out from the band, leaving an open space. The small ring can fit inside the large one, with the bat designs aligning perfectly.

Your jaw is on the floor, this left you speechless.

Recombining the clues is pretty obvious who your secret santa is. Eddie makes mixtapes for everyone and every occasion. You were still curious to see what songs it had on. The mug could be since you always use a different one from Wayne's collection every time you're at Eddie's, saying you want to have a cool collection like that too sometime. And the rings are the most obvious ones, Eddie loves bats and you had told him that his tattoo of them was your favorite one of his. Plus, he's the king of chunky rings.

You look up at him immediately, he's looking at you with a small smile, he's a better actor than you.

"It's you, isn't it?" you ask almost with a hopeful tone. He grins and nods.

You jump to hug him. Squeezing tight. "These are the most beautiful gifts I've ever gotten!" you exclame.

Eddie laughs, holding you back. "They're pretty normal gifts" he says.

"No, they mean so much more!" you quickly tell him. "Eddie, I love these rings!"

"Yeah? They're my favorite too" he smiles.

You take them out of their box and give him the big one, as you put the smaller one on. He takes one of his old rings out and replaces it.

"I love them!" you exclame again, very pleased and excited. You hug him tightly again.

"I'm glad, princess" he laughs.

The weird sensation you feel in your tummy as you see the rings on each finger, and the representation of them completing each other, does not go unnoticed by you. It's like your stomach jumped from happiness too.

After everyone guesses their secret santa and everyone is happy with their new gifts, you go back to your routine in the cabin.

You already loved his hands, and he just added the perfect detail with that ring that matches with the one on your finger. As if it brings you even closer, a confirmation of how much you care for each other.

Eddie and you offer to set the table for lunch.

"Where were the dishes again?" Eddie asks confused from the kitchen.

"On the top shelf!" You indicate from the dining room, setting the gasses on the table.

"Which one? I don't see them" Eddie says.

"The middle one" You say.

"Can't you just come show me which one?" Eddie opens the door from the kitchen, asking you.

You walk over to him, and as you are standing next to him, you signal which door has the dishes.

"Wait! Eddie, don't move!" Nancy says hurriedly.

"What? Why?" he asks, confused.

"Look over your heads" Jonathan smirks.

As you focus your view to the ceiling, you see a mistletoe hanging on the doorframe you are standing under.

"When did you put this here?" You ask them.

"It's the magic of Christmas!" Jonathan teases.

"Must have been one of the elfs" Nancy chimes in.

"Alright, funny" Eddie rolls his eyes, ready to ignore all of this.

"You can't move!" Jonathan stops him. "It's bad luck!"

"They used to believe you would never get married if you didn't kiss" Nancy tells us.

"You're kidding?" you chuckle.

"Nope, those are the rules" Jonathan insists.

Eddie rolls his eyes again, and laughs. He turns his gaze to me. "Do you really want to get married sometime?" he asks me with a smirk.

"Of course! If I don't end up getting married I'll hate you forever, Munson" you threaten.

"If you don't find another husband, I'll marry you" he jokes.

"That's not the proposal I want" you huff.

"Alright, fine, but I better be your man of honor in your wedding," he jokes. "Come here" he smirks, hiding his nerves as he grabs your face softly.

"Fine" you say, ignoring the way your heart is jumping as you close your eyes.

You feel his nose touch yours for a second, giving you time to regret this if you needed to. Then, he locks his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. You have to fight back the smile that wants to form on your face. And you kiss him back, hands on his chest.

Seconds after, you think he'd break apart, but he keeps moving his lips slowly against yours. You don't stop either.

Jonathan and Nancy walk away quietly with surprised and yet pleased faces on, to give you privacy.

Eddie's hands move to your waist as the kiss becomes more than just a peck, tongues meeting softly now. Your hands fly up to his hair, bringing him slightly closer. He brings you closer too as he wraps his arms around your waist.

The kiss is no longer shy. Both getting lost on each other, you make the best of the situation. Letting out some secret feelings into the kiss.

You break out for air finally. Not moving more than necessary. His hands still on your waist and yours still tangled in his curls. Faces still millimeters apart.

"U- um" you let out.

"Yeah" Eddie says uncomfortably as he makes more space between you too, losing the embrace.

"Dishes" you remember.

a/n: these are the rings:

"Yeah, right" he shakes his head out of the trance.

[lazycats-stuff]

Could you write a batfam story where the reader, who's in an established marriage with Bruce Wayne, accidentally triggers Jason? Perhaps the Wayne family has kept Bruce and Jason's past hardships a secret from the reader, thinking it wasn't important to discuss. However, a misunderstanding between the reader and Jason causes Jason to run away after being triggered of his pass. The rest of the family understands that it was a misunderstanding and tells the reader that Jason will come back and not to worry. They explain Jason's troubled pass with Bruce. However, the reader is consumed by so much guilt and sets out to find Jason. Literally the reader goes and searches Gotham top to bottom IN THE MIDDLE OF A HURRICANE! 😭The reader ends up locating Jason in a warehouse, where Jason’s freezing and the rain is pouring right through. More happens but I want the story to like end where the reader and Jason are crying together in the pouring rain and Jason realizes that he now has a loving dad that would do anything to ensure his and his brothers safety. And like the reader brings Jason back to the manor and everyone else is thinking to themselves like damn, (y/n) really is the best thing to happen to this family, literally the damn glue. Or something… like if (y/n) wasn’t there to save Jason he could have been dead… again.

I am sorry this is so long… i just couldn’t stop thinking of this story dynamic 😊

Oh, my jay bird... Of course I can do it... My poor bird. Also, 2k followers? Why thank you. Also, taking some time off to focus on college because I have some shit coming up. To say lightly.

Summary: The family didn't tell (Y/N) about Jason's trauma. And that causes problems and some broken hearts.

Warnings: Mentions of Jason's past, but nothing graphic, (Y/N) is done with emotional constipation from everyone, but he still loves them a lot, also hurricane.

(Y/N) has been in the family for a few years now. Married with the patriarch of the family, Bruce Wayne, was the best decision he has ever made. Bruce, while known to the public as a playboy at the time, abandoned that mindset, all for (Y/N). Boys accepted (Y/N), once they saw that (Y/N) wasn't marrying Bruce for money. (Y/N) will be marrying him for love.

Were there a few hiccups with Bruce being Batman and all the nightly patrols? Yes. However, (Y/N) and Bruce worked through it. And more importantly, (Y/N) essentially adopted all of the boys as his own. He saw them as his own sons rather than looking at them as their stepsons. And besides, saying that they are his sons brings (Y/N) an indescribable amount of happiness. And besides, living with 4 boys is always fun.

(Y/N) knew about their trauma, but what no one told him was the trauma that Jason went through. He had a vague idea, but never knew exactly. He didn't feel qualified to prod around in anyone's head, anyone's mind, but he made sure to let them all know that if they need to talk about something, get something off of their chest, he is the person they can come to talk to.

And it has happened a few times. Sometimes they would come after a nightmare, squeezing between (Y/N) and Bruce, looking for comfort. Now, everyone was unsure as to what to call him. Batdad or mother hen... That one remains to be determined soon enough by the boys.

It was a tough day for everyone in the household and everyone was ready to straight up murder each other. (Y/N) had an awful day at work, Bruce had a bad day as a CEO and as Batman, well, the Batman part was only the night before, but has moved onto the day. The other boys had difficult days at school and at patrol. Jason had a big problem with his nightmares and flashbacks. Not to mention, Gotham was expecting a hurricane to come over and just sweep over it. It shouldn't be bad and there shouldn't be any damage besides any heavy rain.

Gotham natives are used to rains, whether they be small drizzles or storms. However, Bruce worried about it and made sure to get enough supplies, just in case. Safe to say, everyone was on absolute edge. Closed into the same house, despite it being a manor and absolutely huge, tension could be cut with a knife.

And then, Jason and (Y/N) started fighting. It started off as bickering, but then it turned into a fight where hurtful things were said towards each other. Jason, mentally pushed to the limit by the nightmares and flashbacks has had enough and went to his car. He drove off and (Y/N) was fuming still.

But...

When the anger went away, (Y/N) was mortified. Completely and utterly mortified. He essentially crushed whatever relationship he had with Jason. Words hurt more than any punches and any kicks. No matter what Jason went through, (Y/N) was sure that Jason was hurting like hell now.

(Y/N) couldn't stop pacing in the living room, wondering what is happening to Jason at this very moment. A hurricane is going to pass through soon enough, Jason went to God knows where and (Y/N)'s own heart was breaking apart.

" (Y/N), love, you need to calm down. Jason will be fine. He just needs space. "

" Space?! In the middle of a hurricane?! " (Y/N) now yelled, upset beyond belief. He has upset his son and he was telling him to calm down? He might kick Bruce out of their bed.

Bruce then talked about all the trauma that Jason went through, before he adopted him, after he adopted him at the hands of Joker. (Y/N) was now absolutely mortified.

" Father is right. Jason needs some time to cool off. " Damian said in passing, making (Y/N) throw his hands up in the air.

" Is anyone in this damn house emotionally available?! "

Tim shrugged from the sofa and (Y/N) took a deep breath. Bruce watched intently and he could see what (Y/N) was thinking.

" Do not tell me you are going out there. " Bruce said as (Y/N) put his jacket and shoes on.

Dick and Damian paused to watch the entire thing unfold. Tim looked up from his tablet.

" I am. Jason is my son and I'm going to get him back. Tim, track Jason's phone and send me the location. " (Y/N) said, ignoring Bruce. Bruce rubbed his forehead. (Y/N) is a stubborn bastard when he wants to be. And does Bruce love him for it? Yes. Is it annoying sometimes? Yes.

" There is a hurricane! " Tim yelled after (Y/N) as he stormed out.

" (Y/N)! " Bruce yelled after his husband, but it was too late. (Y/N) was already out the door.

" He's nuts, " Damian said underneath his breath.

" And I married him, " Bruce added.

Jason has started to regret the fact that he has decided to even come out here. Sure, (Y/N) and him got into a fight, nasty things were said, but it would be better if he has just stormed up to his room and slammed his door shut. That would have been a better option than this. This damp warehouse, where there was leaking rain wherever you looked...

Jason was shivering, teeth chattering. Cold probably seeped right to his bones. Hypothermia was also on its way too, Jason had no doubt about it. He leaned back against the wall, curling into himself as much as he could and allowed himself to think about what happened with (Y/N), his dad in a way.

They were all on edge from the hurricane, supplies, wifi and all that stuff was needed just in case. Bruce made sure to make the manor proof of any natural disasters. Gotham wouldn't be hit that badly, so there was no need for evacuation, but there was advice to be cautious about it. Everyone was on edge as it is from being cooped up together too much, since Bruce didn't want them to stray too far, just in case.

And Jason being in a foul mood from his nightmares already, he didn't like this one bit. He wanted to be alone, but no. Common areas are a must according to Bruce. So the fight happened and both of them said really hurtful things to each other. And Jason felt guilty. He knew that emotions took over them both, but still... (Y/N) was always trying to be good to them all.

It was wrong.

Jason looked up at the door when he heard a slam. It could be wind. Or maybe someone trying to find shelter?

What Jason didn't expect was (Y/N), wet to the bone, looking around frantically. When his eyes fell on Jason, he sighed in relief.

" Oh Jay, I've been looking for you everywhere! Are you okay?! " (Y/N) ran up to Jason, quickly kneeling down to check to see if he had any injuries. Jason was touched... To have a genuine parent, a loving parent, alongside Bruce, but Bruce is a bit emotionally constipated so (Y/N) is essentially everything that the boys need.

" Bruce told me what you've been through... And now I know why you ran, what made you so upset. It was a combination of everything plus the hurricane. "

Jason nodded and (Y/N) hugged him tightly. Jason hugged him back just as tightly, if not more.

And the two broke down in tears, holding onto each other tightly.

Bruce was pacing in the living room, worried about (Y/N) and Jason. He should have gone after Jason too. He shouldn't have been so stupid. He should have chased Jason down the moment he left the mansion. But no, he's too emotionally constipated to deal with this. Great. Absolutely great.

He flipped his head around when he heard the front door open and then close and then two sets of footsteps. Jason and (Y/N) stepped into the living room, both soaked to the bone.

" Bruce, " (Y/N) said calmly and Bruce had a feeling he would be kicked out of the bedroom.

" (Y/N)... Are you two okay? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) nodded, smiling at Jason.

" We are B. Jay, go down to the Batcave. Take a warm shower and get changed into warm clothes. I'm sure the others are there too." (Y/N) softly nudged Jason to get going.

Jason took the hint and went to the Batcave. Once he was gone, Bruce turned to (Y/N).

" I'm sorry. I truly am. I should have gone after him, but I was- "

" Stupid? Yeah. Clearly. But I'm willing to forgive. I assume that the cots are ready? "

" Yup. I prepared you warm clothes, some earplugs so that you can't be awaken by the bats. And also a mask so that you won't be awoken by the lights of the cave. You know, reflectors, Batcomputer... Come on. " Bruce gently lead his cold and wet husband to the Batcave. " A warm shower is in order too. "

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, knowing that he will be forced into a warm shower, warm and dry clothes and an intense cuddling session, where Bruce won't let go, out of fear and love... How did he even marry into this crazy family?

[thedouglastrap]

Something about this post is bugging me, but every time I to put my finger on it, I feel like the reason slips away. So I think I'll just try to sort through it here and see where that leads me.

Mechanical changes impacting play style makes sense, but I think I question the cause and effect here. Because the rules mentioned that "encouraged the GM to think of monsters as real living creatures", morale and reaction rolls, are things that seem (to me at least) less about making these monsters seem real and more about adding more angles to introduce randomness to random encounters. If a random aboleth shows up while you're walking from point A to point B, a reaction roll is a quick and dirty way to see how they view the players, but it doesn't account for what an aboleth is. Similarly, a morale roll is giving a method beyond the DM just making an arbitrary ruling sans dice. That's not to say that a good DM can't use the roll to breathe some life into an encounter, of course, but I don't know if I would say those rules being removed/put in the flavor rather than made a general rule was a primary contributor to a greater emphasis on combat, or if that was even an intentional design choice.

(as a side note: looking up what reaction rolls actually were were, I stumbled onto a blog about the whole OSR thing in ttrpgs, and decided to go down the rabbit hole for a bit. It seems like a lot of the conclusions being drawn in this post are close to issues raised over there, but they tend to include AD&D2e as a point where the shift happened, making it less a TSR/WotC difference)

Now, if there IS a greater focus on combat in that shift, I think it's probably due to the game getting crunchier over time during that shift. 2e seemed to start it off with a wide variety of optional rules, and 3.x cemented it. But notably, it did this for non-combat as well, which makes me think that it was less a design choice to make things more combat oriented and more to provide comprehensive rules, with combat being the most fleshed out part in service to the whole heroic adventure aesthetic.

I think one of the biggest issues I'm running into is the following point about how encounters have to be these justified forced combat encounters and the dissonance this can provide. I think part of that is because that conclusion just doesn't match up with the reality I was seeing playing 3.x or seeing other people talking about it. Not to say combat wasn't the focus, but plenty of non-combat encounters happened, enemies ran away, scenarios were derailed by roleplay rather than combat, etc. And sure, that's anecdotal, but I think it's relevant. The game does, after all, provide individual sections for monsters giving a basic rundown of what the creature is. Some are more bare-bones than other, but when Archons are listed as "never attacking first, but being easily provoked", that's a pretty clear indicator that forced combat should not be the default assumption. If players ignore that, sure, but that's no different than ignoring reaction rolls imo.

The real difference, I think, is the afforementioned shift from a focus on an open world where the party has more freedom to explore and do whatever they want while the world happens around them, to a focus on more structured narratives where the players are characters in a story that is unfolding around them. Its a shift away from "well the dice say there's an aggressive dragon swooping in, have fun with that" towards "I planned out the encounter you're gonna run into between startersville and plotlandia". That also kinda follows from the idea of encounter balance. Having a random dragon swoop in on a third level party isn't a balanced encounter unless the DM goes out of their way to make it one, but that takes more time and prep than rolling a few dice and opening to a statblock can account for. And yes, planned encounters like this can, if done poorly, just be a shooting gallery of forced fights with thin justifications. It could also be well crafted encounters where you could talk down the goblins instead of fighting by opening trade negotiations.

The play style that the difference in design encourages isn't so much "fight all the things vs treat your enemies like actual living things" as it is "how structured do you want this game to be", which is ultimately value-neutral. And the moral disconnect about what you're fighting seems like an entirely separate thing from that. Neither style inherently encourages or discourages that, and it feels uncharitable to say that WotC-era d&d is more skewed to be morally uncomplicated than TSR-era.

So there is a pretty clear shift in playstyle between TSR D&D and WotC D&D: for better and for worse, D&D 3e introduced the idea of encounter balance, de-emphasized mechanics that had previously encouraged the GM to think of the monsters as real living creatures (reaction rolls, morale, etc.), and it had the effect of making D&D a much more combat-focused game. D&D has always been a game that's opinionated about combat, it's basically the most expressive and detailed form of play regardless of edition, but combat in the TSR editions was not exactly zoomed in and tactical. The WotC editions purposefully made combat zoomed in, granular, and tactical.

And this has had an effect on playstyle: since combat is now the main form of player expression what players actually want is for their characters to get into combat. Because combat is the most fun part of the game. But the game has also changed from the largely amoral dungeon-crawling game into a game of fantasy heroics (even though a lot of the trappings of the amoral dungeon-crawling still remain, which contributes to the dissonance), so you can't just have the player characters going into combat for the sake of it. That would frame the player characters as kind of Fucked Up, and we can't have that in our supposedly heroic fantasy.

What you end up with is a variety of contrivances like "they're bandits," "they're cultists," or, my all-time favorite, "they attacked first" to make the action seem morally justifiable, even though gameplay is still motivated by a desire to fight. The monsters fight to the death and, importantly, can often not be reasoned and negotiated with, partly because combat is supposed to be the fun, engaging part everyone is here to do, but also because if they actually acted like reasonable people it could cause dissonance with the whole "the player characters are the goodest heroes."

As my friend @tenleaguesbeneath once called it: what is actually going on is that the player characters are hunting people and monsters who have been programmed to fight to the death and never negotiate for sport, while justifying it as self-defence.

It's a simple power fantasy, and I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Sometimes you want to play a morally uncomplicated game about killing guys with cool magic swords. But I think it's also fun to think about what the specific types of monsters players end up fighting reveals about Society the invisible, unexamined ideology lying under the surface that the designers of even modern D&D have failed to examine. And to me it often reads like a frontier justice fantasy. None of that is to detract from anyone's joy of the game, and for me it's just fun to think about and post about this stuff while Still Enjoying the Game, but if someone expressing that opinion makes you feel uncomfortable, why? That's pretty silly imo.

[bunni-v1]

hi! congratulations on 500 followers! could you make the full nsfw alphabet list with Idia please? (sorry for the bad English)

🍓I POSTED!!! I've had this sitting in the drafts for a week and I finally decided to post it (YAY!!!). I've also got Jade's qued up for later today, and I'll be working on Azul and Floyds in my free time (when I get free time that is). Sorry I took so long to post, life has been tough on me and I just didn't have the tools to deal with it. I'll be back and posting irregularly until December when I can actually take time and write again.

Idia NSFW Alphabet!

A = Aftercare: Idia Shroud is the WORST at aftercare, and I say this with so much love and kindness to the walking punching bag that calls himself a man. Genuinely though, sex overstimulates him so badly, so he cannot handle anything after the fact. He’s the kind to roll over off you (more like slide you off him) and fall asleep immediately. Of course, he mumbles out something about it feeling good and all that stuff, but 9 times out of 10 he’s out like a light.

B = Body part: He is a thigh man. He doesn’t care if it's thick and meaty, he just wants to rest his head on it. Maybe give it a nibble, if you’d let him of course (consent is key, even for a dirty Otaku like him). For him… he doesn’t like most things about himself, but if you seem to like something about him a lot, he grows to like it too. So if you like his hair, it’s probably his hair, if you like his lips or teeth it’s them. (What can I say, he’s weak for you).

C = Cum: SALTYYYYY! He doesn’t take care of himself what did you expect. It’s unpleasant to taste, and there’s A LOT of it to taste. It’s a pretty thick consistency and really sticky, fun to play with and watch dribble down your stomach and face. 

D = Dirty secret: He wants you to peg him. I wouldn’t say that’s much of a secret, but he thinks it is. 

E = Experience: NONE. Zip, zero, zilch. I make fun of Malleus for being a Virgin, but IDIA IS A VIRGIN. He’ll blush to hold your hand, it’s that bad. However, he does watch a LOT of Porn (Hentai specifically), so he has… an idea of what to do. He’s really nervous first time around, but once he gets comfortable with you he’s pretty good, just a little unrealistic in his expectations sometimes.

F = Favorite position: Doggy! Especially if you’re wearing cute little puppy or kitty ears! He likes watching the way your back arches, and he’s a big fan of pulling your hair or squeezing your hips. Other than that, he loves face-sitting. Surrounded by your thighs, oh that’s a good death for Idia Shroud.

G = Goofy: Initially, he is entirely on accident. He wants to be serious and cool about it, but he’s like a blushing schoolgirl and making a million mistakes. His line delivery is so… cringe and embarrassing you can’t help but laugh. It humiliates him, but eventually, he learns to just embrace it, and he becomes pretty goofy. He loves cracking jokes just to see you smile, cause the one thing he loves more than your thighs has to be your pretty little smile.

H = Hair: I know it’s blue flames too, I just know it. That shit is not tamed either. Like he trims, but honestly it’s hard to control something that's constantly shifting and changing. And, before you ask, yes it does flare up with his emotions like his hair does too. 

I = Intimacy: Depends… Idia isn’t someone I would ever describe as romantic, but he is a sweetie. He likes it hard and rough so it’s hard to say it’s very romantic, but he does like you close and he loves looking at you. You catch him smiling down at you like you’re some kind of goddess sometimes. You won’t catch him saying cheesy lines like how much he loves you or how pretty you are (cause it will actually kill him if he does).

J = Jack off: Mastrubating champ of NRC. He’s alone in his room 90% of the time with unlimited access to the internet and is also an Otaku. Sorry if you disagree, but you’re wrong. I know he gets off at least once a day, more if he has the time. 

K = Kink: Another biter, he just loves marking you up and sending you off with a pretty bruise for everyone to see. He’s a sadomasochist too, depending on whose topping. He wants you to push him around and hit him, make him feel helpless, it’s his favorite thing. Also into pet play, cosplay, roleplaying, and… any kind of play honestly. The weirder the better for him.

L = Location: His room and his room alone. Maybe yours, but he does not trust anyone in your dorm to respect your privacy. Besides, if he’s in his room he knows where everything is, and he can ensure no one will be getting in and seeing you that way.

M = Motivation: Most things, honestly. Be nice to him? He’s hard. Be mean to him? He’s hard. Beat him in his favorite game and act all smug (he let you win)? He’s hard. Lose and pout about it? He’s hard. He’s a sensitive guy, okay, and he thinks everything you do is super hot. Not his fault.

N = No: Share or let someone watch. Absolute nos from him. The idea of sharing you with someone and you like them more? Hah, he’d kill himself. He’s also not a fan of anyone seeing either of you in such a compromising position. He’s too nervous and possessive to let that out of the privacy of his room. Also, this might be controversial, but I can’t see him being into any kind of sibling shit. Too weird for him, he’d never want to think of his precious little brother like that, so why would he want to think of you like that?

O = Oral: He prefers receiving because watching the way you tease him with your sultry gaze as he sinks impossibly further down your throat is… heavenly. Though he isn’t bad at giving either. His tongue is long and boy can that thing move, it can reach places you didn’t even know were possible. Plus his teeth nipping at your most sensitive areas? Praise the seven, that’s good shit.

P = Pace: Fast and rough. He likes to just go at it, and he doesn’t like to stop for anything. Prepare to be pounded into next week with no stops!

Q = Quickie: He likes them, and they’re pretty common, but they’re not his favorite. When he has sex, he likes going for more than one round, and the whole point of quickies is that they’re quick so he doesn’t prefer them.

R = Risk: Yeah, he’s game to try some more risky things, but he’ll back out so fast if he’s uncomfortable for even a second. There are some things he wouldn’t consider, like bringing it out of his room. He’s a big fan of risky texts though. Like, a video of you fucking yourself in the bathroom while he’s in a meeting with the other housewardens? No one’s gonna know if he takes care of himself quickly. 

S = Stamina: He goes for multiple fast and quick rounds. He can usually do about four of them before he’s done for the night, but he’s willing to keep going if he doesn’t satisfy your needs along with his (sometimes).

T = Toys: He has a collection, actually, of really wild shit. Tentacles, ‘alien’ dicks, and even the infamous horse cock. He likes to put a bullet in you and control it from his room, watching you struggle to talk to your friends on the cameras he’s definitely allowed to have access to. 

U = Unfair: He likes to tease, but he forgets to sometimes lol. He gets so caught up in his own pleasure that, occasionally, he’ll just forget he wanted to tease you and make you all sensitive and whiny. He also likes to be teased, so please feel free to torture him when you’re topping <3

V = Volume: He tries very hard to be quiet, but bless his soul he is not. He’s so whiny and whimpery and pathetic, it’s very cute. He wants you to make as much noise as possible so that he can hide his shame, but he’ll still cry into your ear since he can’t contain himself.

W = Wild card: He sometimes prints out the pictures you send to him (with permission) and keeps them in his desk. There’s no real reason why, because he has all of them digitally, but something about having physical pictures is more thrilling to him.

X = X-ray: Hehehe, oh Idia. It is long and it is thick, bless his dad’s genetics. I’m talking like almost seven inches big, like… he’s big. It’s veiny, with one really prominent one on the top that runs from the base to just below his tip. Which, by the way, is blue like his lips. 

Y = Yearning: High, if that wasn’t made obvious before. He craves sex a lot, and it only seems to get worse after he gets with you. You’re just so pretty and perfect he can’t help it <3Z = Zzz: I said it at the start, but it’s near immediate. He gets tired easily after all that physical exertion, he just wants to nap and cuddle, you can clean up in the morning. Let him hold you :(

[pastlivesxpastlie]

There's not enough ii/iii/f!reader for me. I need more. 🥹 Can I get a ii/iii/f!reader fic where she asks to watch them together as a birthday present but they invite her to join when she does? Love the idea that ii/iii have a switch dynamic and reader gets to watch one dominate the other but then gets the other side for herself.

You’ll be getting a bill from a neurologist because this broke my brain🫶 @adenobabe @inv3ga imagine me mushing your boys together like Ken dolls.

Ahem…*mic feedback*

Switch!Brat!iii x Switch!ii x Soft!FemDom!Reader

Your birthday was this weekend and you were feeling restless. You made some lowkey plans but when your besties, ii and iii, (The Boyfriends™️ as you called them) asked what you wanted for your birthday, something snapped in your mind.

You: Ok. I know what I want 👉🏻👈🏻 remember that little offer you two had made?

In your mind you still heard III’s slurred words one night as you both eyed II across the pub: “If you think he looks good now, imagine him on top of me. Bet you’d like that…watching your two friends fuck, hm? Little freak.” At the time you laughed it off. III was such a kidder and knew not what he did when he was drunk, so what does it hurt to play along?

“Oh, can’t even imagine what you two get up to,” you purr, but the sarcasm saturates your words.

“What shit are you two talking now?” II appeared behind you silently, thus sandwiching you between him and III. The bassist loomed over both of you yet II’s piercing blue eyes was what kept both of you in place. Lifting your chin, II appraised your cheeks. “III, babes, what were you saying to her?”

“That she should watch sometime,” III responded, sounding stone-cold sober. Maybe he was lucid when he whispered those filthy things. II nodded and shrugged as if to say, ‘she should. Why shouldn’t she?’ The only thing you could do was burst into a nervous laugh which caused the boys to laugh, too; the proposition long forgotten. Or unspoken at least. But you didn’t forget. That was three months ago, allowing you 90 some odd days of the fantasy evolving in your head from something simple such as watching II go down on III to being made to touch yourself while one fucked the other. You could never decide who you liked getting fucked more in your fantasy. There was something obvious about III taking II but that didn’t make it less exciting. The thought of II fucking III made you giggle at first, thinking of iii’s legs all lanky around ii’s little waist, but soon it intrigued you…imagining II claiming III. You felt ashamed for thinking about it even though it wasn’t your original idea…the two of them literally offered themselves to you…you were allowed to enjoy the thought. And more than that…you were allowed to ask for it.

ii: are you sure that’s what you want?

iii: that doesn’t mean “no,” btw, dove.

iii: just means we want to know if we should book a room or not 😈

ii: stop double texting and give her second

iii:🖕

You: I’m sure. Saturday night.

ii: one more thing. If you’re up to it, we want you to join. No pressure, honestly. Even if you change your mind day of, yeah?

All week your mind was on its own little hellish rollercoaster. One minute was “yes! I WILL fuck my best friends!” The next was “no. I will watch respectfully.” And sometimes, but not too often, it was “I should call it off. I should be in horny jail.” But when Saturday night came and you instinctively pulled out your little red dress, you knew your mind was made up. And the boys knew it, too.

When you met up with them in the hotel bar, the energy crackled. There was a giddiness about the three of you, and you found yourself being more openly affectionate with them. It started out innocent enough. Pushing iii’s hair behind his ear mindlessly, resting your hand on ii’s arm when you asked him something—all innocent fun. Until of course they asked if you could tie a cherry stem with your tongue.

“Obviously I can. Watch and learn,” you teased. II leaned forward on the table letting his chin rest in his hand, watching intently, while iii crossed his arms.

“What are you even doing?” III laughed, asking what everyone was thinking. This was so much harder than you remembered. “Such a liar.”

“I dunno…it’s kind of hot. Persistent little thing,” II said not taking his eyes off you. You spit out the cherry stem, not even bent much less tied. A rosy blush covers your face as you giggle at yourself. “Look at her,” ii teases as he scoots near you, “she’s a mess. Aren’t you?” You lean into him as you laugh a little too loud. Suddenly iii looks serious.

“Doll. Before you get too faded…”

You instantly straighten up but shudder because II runs his fingertips across your shoulder blades. “What’s up?”

“Are you joining us tonight…or just spectating?”

This sobered you up instantly. You nearly forgot about the end goal here, watching them together or actually joining them. You took a deep breath and looked at them both for a second as you considered your options for the last time. Finally, you nodded slowly.

“Alright,” a wide smile broke across iii’s face, “shall we?”

Moments later, you were being pushed into the empty elevator with them. II made sure no one else was approaching as iii pressed you into the wall opposite the doors. His wide palm thumped beside your head on the wall, trapping you. You didn’t want to be completely passive tonight. You could just stand there and let him toy as he pleases, but it’s your birthday, and he’s a part of your gift. You lean up and gently tease his lips with your tongue. As he lets out an amused huff, he pulls your face forward in a rough kiss. II hums contentedly as he leans against the wall, just watching. III nibbles and pulls your bottom lip just a bit as he breaks the kiss. “That’s a good girl,” he laughs softly. Suddenly he flings you into ii, who captures your lips with a patient intensity. III’s kiss excited you, but ii’s seduced you. When the lift got to your floor, ii’s pulled away, wiping his mouth and looking you up and down.

“You’re trouble.”

You look back at III as he gently guides you to the room. “Is that a good thing for you two…trouble?”

III rolls his eyes and laughs dryly. “I’m always trouble with him, love,” he says as you enter the room. Seeing the soft lighting and comfy king sized bed helps you get in the mood but it also serves as a reality check. You are here! With your besties! And it becomes even more real when…oh shit.

“You’ve got such a mouth on you,” ii growls as he pulls iii to the bed. “Definition of trouble.” II climbs on top of iii to kiss and suck at his neck. III moans softly as ii marks him, but he reaches out his hand to you. He wants to lay beside him. That’s when you realize you’re staring. Gawping. You slip out of your shoes and slot beside iii with his arm wrapped around you. His hazy eyes wander to yours.

“Come here, good girl.” He whispers. III pulls you to him and your lips meet again. You don’t know what to do with your hands but you remind yourself that this is your gift. Make the most of it. Your hand drifts from iii’s chest to ii’s hair. The urge to stir the pot is too strong. You pull at ii’s hair and wrench him from the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. III breaths out a little “fuck” as you and II make out right above his face. II licks your bottom lip playfully and nudges your noses together.

“Let me take care of him and then I’m all yours, love.”

Loud and clear. III let’s go of you to sit up and take off his shirt; ii follows suit, still in iii’s lap. Their kisses are rough, needy, as if they don’t do this whenever they want. II grinds into iii’s lap and moans. “Fuck yeah…fuck…bite me,” ii murmurs as iii licks a long stripe up his neck. This is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and they’re not even naked yet. “Lay back and take your pants off, handsome,” ii whispers. You bite your lip as iii lays back to shuffle out his pants and boxers, his cock springing free. You’re desperate to touch it, to have it in your mouth, but ii beats you to it. He drags his fingertips up the underside of iii’s cock teasingly, relishing in the way he squirms beneath him. “What’s wrong? Squirming away from me?”

“Fuck just stroke it…”

“That’s an idea.”

“You want to…come on just…” iii swipes a hand down his face and grabs for ii’s hand, but it’s slapped aside.

“Hands behind your back. Now.”

III huffs and groans. “Yeah…yeah alright. Fine.” He lifts his core and folds his forearms under his back.

“Looks you have a good boy, ii,” you murmur, finally finding your confidence. II’s smirk makes you want to kiss it right off of him. Finally he starts jerking iii’s cock while staring through you. You’re under his spell, basically eye-fucking him. III is whimpering and moaning pathetically; the only attention he’s getting is ii jerking him off and he keeps looking at you…begging for anything with his blue puppy eyes.

“Babe…babe…take that pretty dres-“

“Don’t tell her what to do,” ii snaps, “it’s her birthday…have some respect.”

III chuckles breathlessly through his moans as ii slows his strokes. “Sorry. Sorry, pretty.” But there’s no love lost, you’re entertained by their dynamic. You roll closer and pepper little kisses on cheek.

“Didn’t take you for a sub, iii,” you whisper. He shrugs as ii takes a little break to fetch something from his overnight bag.

III moves his face to kiss you softly, his cock twitching when you run your hands down his stomach. “I can be…but so can he,” he whispers back, referencing ii. “Switchy, like me.”

Your jaw drops, and a shocked laugh fills the room. “II? Really, hun? You like being thrown around a little…told what to do?”

“He so does. Honestly, one time…with IVy of all peop-“ but iii doesn’t get to finish. II puts his hand over iii’s mouth, muffling his mischievous snicker.

“Runs his mouth too much. Love, show me how you’d shut him up,” ii says with a cocked eyebrow.

You take your cue to slip off the bed and undress. They both watch you in reverence. If iii didn’t have his brat mouth covered, it would have been agape. “II,” you purr, “take your hand off my seat.” II moves his hand, and iii exclaims ‘oh fuck yes,’ as you straddle his face. Since his arms are still tucked behind him, you press your desperate pussy to his mouth. Your palms press into his tummy as he laps at your clit. You can’t help the slutty noises he’s pulling from you. II has slipped out of his clothes and positions himself between iii’s legs. He’s brought a small bottle of lube with him. “Are…are you gonna fuck him,” you ask…or at least try. It’s hard when you’ve got a tongue prying at your slit and two hard throbbing cocks before you.

II squirts the liquid in his palm and pumps iii with a renewed lust. “Hah…no, no. This cock is yours first.” Poor iii doesn’t last long with your pussy gushing against his lips and ii’s deft touches. Your eyes roll back as iii moans into your pussy. “Alright, love, hop off.” You roll off and watch as the two of team meet in a hot, passionate kiss. III undoubtedly stiff arms wrap around ii and hold him like he’s the most precious thing.

“Taste her on me, babe?” iii whispers against ii’s mouth. II nods with a dumb little smile and playfully licks at iii’s mustache. “Alright…hopping in the shower.”

“Aw…but…” you pout.

“I’ll be back, doll. Don’t worry.” III chuckles as he saunters into the bathroom, leaving you and ii on the bed. As if it has to be a secret, you both sit silently until you hear the shower run. II is immediately on you, groping your tummy and breasts as he kisses at your neck. Your eyes roll back as breathy pants leave your lips. Your chest heaves as his mouth greedily works down to your breasts.

“Be a good boy for me…hm?” Your finger gently tilts his chin up. “C’mere…” He’s a goner as your lips rub up against his. They’re so puffy from kissing iii. “You’ve been good haven’t you…waiting your turn…haven’t even touched yourself.”

“Heh, stop,” he saying looking away with the sweetest blush. “Where’d this Mommy act come from, hm?” He peppers your cheek with kisses as he whispers.

“It’s not an act,” you whisper as you adjust his cock to slide in. III got you beyond wet enough for ii, so only a gentle nudge was needed for him to go in fully. II’s head falls forward with a low groan. “Let me see you…” your hand now rests firmly under his jaw, wrapped around his neck. He grins like any subby good boy would when your fingers flex. “There he is…eyes on me…” His eyes are dreamy and hazy as they flutter shut or roll back as his cock twitches inside of you. You squirm a little just to get comfy and enjoy teasing him as your bodies writhe against one another.

“Please,” he whimpers. He’s getting impatient.

“You want to cum so soon?” You question mocking pout.

“I…fuck…I can cum again later. Just please….”

His sweet puppy eyes glisten as he bites his lip, practically whining. His adam’s apple bobs against your palm but he doesn’t break. “Show me how happy this makes you…” He shudders and slowly thrusts. His body wants to slump forward but your grip holds him steady. “You want to cum before he gets back in here? Hm?” II nods quickly and squeezes his eyes shut, the overall excitement from the night and your tight softness overstimulating him. “Heh yeah…just for me and my good boy…I’m going to let go of you now—“

“No please…please keep it there…feels so good…so good for you…” he begs. “Just a little harder…” When you squeeze a little harder, a fire lights in II. He fucks you fast and rough trying to play this little game where you have to finish before iii comes out. His lips form a little pout, dying for a kiss. You can’t resist that. Instead of letting him move, you lean up and capture his lips. He moans against your mouth as the first kiss makes him lose it. You move your hand to let him breathe as he cries out against your chest.

II is still nestled against your chest, and in your pussy, when iii comes out of the steamy bathroom…already rock hard again. “Alright, loves…who’s next?”

[twig-gy]

it’s not inherently mischaracterization to write hms gore what matters is the way you do it. gore is a tool that can be amazing or horrible just like any other depending on the execution. pun. gore is not necessarily more shallow than anything else. no one is going around saying ‘stop writing fluff that’s shallow and only meant to make you feel good’, so why does this apply to gore? if this sounds either biased or targeted, that’s because it is :)

less briefly:

yes, gore can stem from Nothing, or mischaracterization. it can also stem from traits that the character has.

sure maybe ‘soul STABS MIND 3000 TIMES IN THE CHEST because ???? uh why not’ is a bad usage of gore, but consider ‘soul stabs mind to punish him for doing something minor (because he is desperate for heart and mind to stop their fights at all costs, and feels as if he has no power, and feels as if the only way to gain power is by making them afraid of him)’.

maybe this doesn’t fit with your specific idea of soul, but there is still character depth there.

<SIDE TANGENT>

what mischaracterization even MEANS is dependent on person to person, because, you know, PEOPLE GET DIFFERENT THINGS FROM THIS ALBUM, and they INTERPRET THE CHARACTERS DIFFERENTLY. additionally, what seems like ‘mischaracterization’ can just be what the author thinks they would react like when placed into a situation, which can be incredibly different from how they usually act! for example, both of my aus are based on how i think the characters would react whenever placed into situation x

(with maybe their characters tweaked a little, which is fine sometimes as long as you aren’t going to claim it’s canon. it’s fine to have headcanons. it’s fine to have different versions of hms(w) that aren’t specifically au. and people who are mad about it - which is a group that may include me, sometimes, i am aware - can be mad! and that doesn’t mean you’re wrong and that doesn’t mean you have to get out the ukelele and be like i’m sorry for having fun with the characters (when you Should be having fun with the characters and if you aren’t then maybe. stop?))

and in my aus they are incredibly different from canon hms! which isn’t a bad thing, it is the point!

anyway you aren’t morally bad for talking about the characters without cited sources. (the annoying part is whenever you act like you /are/ being objectively correct, and right about everything, whenever you’re clearly Doing Shit To Them (also sometimes maybe consider making an oc and whether that would be more fun than saying it’s hms. however you aren’t. morally corrupt. for not making an oc. it’s fine))

(again please don’t say people are morally corrupt for being wrong about the characters. they aren’t. it’s annoying but it’s not bad morally, and they don’t need to get hosed down for it. It’s Fine)

</SIDE TANGENT> (yes i can reclaim the html angle brackets because i know html /joke)

again, compare ‘heart and mind snuggle and don’t argue ever because ???? why not’ and ‘heart and mind snuggle and don’t argue ever because they’ve resolved their conflict, and don’t feel like they need to anymore’ (an attempt to keep the level of fluff while adding a reason- though i admit i’m not good at writing pure fluff), or ‘heart and mind snuggle and don’t argue ever because they’re tired of the pain and want just one moment of peace’ (something more similar to what i write that keeps bittersweetness/tension there).

if reasonless gore is bad, why isn’t reasonless fluff bad? if reasonless gore is ‘immature’, then isn’t is reasonless fluff also ‘immature’?

sure, maybe one is less shocking or more to your tastes than the other: it’s fine to have preferences. what i don’t agree with is saying one is horrible and the other isn’t.

my opinion is that we should stop saying anything that one writes is morally bad: and if you want to anyway, just keep the complaining (because that’s what this is) to friends you complain with, or discord servers meant for complaining, or complain on your own blog without maintagging it, rather than trying to set these rules of what one should and should not write upon the entire fanbase.

thank you (i bow and leave the stage) (ALSO STOP ACTING LIKE IT’S NOVEL TO THINK THAT HEART ISN’T AN UWU BABY OR MIND ISN’T A DEMON IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE FANBASE WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS. WE WERE GOING OVER THIS LAST YEAR. I AM SO TIRED OF PEOPLE MAKING THESE POSTS AND EVERYONE CONGRATULATING THEM OVER IT AS IF IT’S DESERVING OF THE NOBEL PRIZE)

[sunnydust2003]

Vent:

It's official

I'm scared of her rn because since i deleted my DA account, she won't leave me alone.

She's still stalk and harassing me despissd facts, i left this god awful website.

She's calls me like a pedo, zoophilia, child murder and etc with no proof and took out of context.

Like explame this as possible i am:

1. Pedo stuff:

The reason why she's call me a pedo because i favourite parody of Cuties which was make funny of pedo which i favourite because i like people make fun of this type people who deserve that from piece of shit but i regrett favourite this art.

And one thing, i hate Cuties because you know why.

I'm glad it's got remove from good.

2. Zoophilia:

She's calls me a Zoophilia just because i comment of one my friends art of "Oh No, He's so Hot" gif of Squidward from picture of Donald being muscular (it's not fetish art btw) and she's believe i have crush on Donald which i don't have actually crush on Donald Duck.

Do i like Donald Duck, yes but do you have crush on Donald.

The answer is fuck no.

Donald isn't my fictional crush.

3. Shipping Ren and Stimpy.

She's believe i ship Ren and Stimpy just because of i comment one of person which i ask person where she's start ship Ren and Stimpy because i like heard when they start liles ship or anything.

Beside i don't ship Ren and Stimpy because i see them as friends and nothing else more.

4. She's hates when someone favorite artwork just because they don't like.

She's blame me of i favourite Spongebob x Vocaloid: Lust because she doesn't like song which okay fine but why you blame me from this.

Oh yeah because he's was prevent to female or some shit which btw i never actually listen to Lust or anything because i'm not interest on song.

Only i favourite because artwork was amazing and that's why favourite art in first place.

5. She's blame me over i ship something.

She's blame me over i made status about i cringe myself when i used ship Elsa and Selena Gomez just because i thought it's was adorable.

Keep mind, i was minor back the day, i didn't have brain development until i get olded and realized:

What the fuck is wrong with me.

Idk what's wrong with my younger self when ship this two.

I'm glad i stop ship this two because it's was weird af.

6. She's calls me a child murder.

Yup she's calls me a child murder because of i was hyper about FNAF movie and says i'm only watch movie because i want see kids get killed which wtf are you talk about?!

I'm not watch movie because kids get killed, i'm watch this movie because of how adoption of game it's was.

And i'm glad they didn't show kids get killed in movie because last time i have experince with kids get killed is was hard to watch.

7. She's rant about how i so called treat my friends shit.

Now yes, this was true i was asshole about my friends about whole of "Freddy hates his friends" but i was only mad at this because my friends is remind me of toxic cartoon community and i don't want my friends become one of them but since i watch AOSTH and Scratch, Grounxed and Coconuts are become my new favorite characters, i realized i was asshole towards my friends and i apologie to him from real this time and he's accept this apologie.

This now, we talks about Freddy fight Peck or other his interest, hell i even give him a idea and drawing based of i comment on this because i want make him a happy and i love make friends a happy.

But what really pissed me off is she's lying about me so called sent my whiteknight to my friends which it's was bullshit because i don't even have whiteknight and don't want harassing my friends over this.

I may was asshole but at least i apologie about my action and i want improve myself.

She's just lying herself with no proof of this.

8. Finally she's get trigged over i made one meme of Lincoln get kick out which was meant be make fun of toxic TLH fanbase of how overprotective Lincoln when Lincoln is no better.

Now if you see Such No Luck, i made meme this because i want pissed TLH fans off because how over sentisive about this when Lincoln is no better because he's was lying about he's got bad luck just want have free time when he's could tells his family honest.

Before you say, no i'm not defense Lynn Jr and facts, both of them are unlikable.

So yeah.

9. She's blame me over the facts, voice actor of Abby (Back at the Barnyard) is anti vaxxer and she's say i should proud of her because she's so called cares her children which i have question:

If she's so called cares her child, she shouldn't realized maybe i should protect my kids from infection but nope, she doesn't give a fuck about her children and forced on people who tells to wear mask is canceled culture which prove me a point, she doesn't care from children.

And i want talks about her double stands ass because i like how she's called me a pedo when she's also defense Rev Says Desu who is lolicon and she's defense him by saying:

"Oh he's not going after a real kids, they are just fictional characters" which is gross af.

And thing is she favourite of My Melody and Kuromi from Sanrio x Yu-Gi-Oh pillow sexual which remind me of:

"My Melody and Kuromi are underage" which is red flags because how she support this type shit.

So remember i tell you about she's thinks calling me a child murder just because i was hyper about FNAF movie.

About that, she's also double stands because she's calling me a child murder over FNAF movie but yet, she's have favourite FNAF on her DA.

Hey are you same person telling me about i'm so called support child murder just because of one movie but yet, you favourite FNAF despised facts, you just said to me i support child murder but i guess, she's become stupid af and acting like she's a innocent person.

Yeah fuck this bullshit.

So yeah, i'm done with this shit.

It's time to move on from good.

So yeah, if you reading this:

Please leave me the fuck alone, i don't want have deal with you or anything.

I just want get free from stalker and harassing i got from you.

So please leave the internet and get some seriously help.

[just-your-average-author]

TIT RECAP/THOUGHTS

SPOILERS OBV

Okay so firstly the open PSA that Dan wrote about "no photos or videos if you do, I will sue your ass to the ground" and "no flash photography do you want Phil to fall off the stage...again?!?!?" killed me. it was so cute

preshow playlist, stunning, beautiful all around bops.

the sudden cut off of the music and lights to signal the show started, genuinely shocked and I was SAT let me tell you.

THEY CAME OUT AND THEY WERE REAL?!? NOT A SIMULATION?? listen I still can't get over that, I can't believe they were real people who look and sound exactly like they do on my tv at home!! I was so focused on them and soaking every moment in, I couldn't handle it

have I mentioned how attractive they are?!?!?

okay also literally Phil straight up STOPPED THE SHOW BECAUSE HE HAD TO SNEEZE AND DAN JUST STARED AND WAS LIKE PHIL WTF and I loved every second I was like yes this is straight up what they do in videos, let's have our little squirrel moment babes.

plus it made it feel even more silly and improv, overall I know obv they scripted a lot but it was sooo interactive and they ad libbed so much and I adored it

the dollhouse recap i swear wtf. first off, it was such a creative and fun idea and the different sets, and dressed up dolls that the clothes matched!! also okay I'm so sorry I had no idea the random sex positions would be a theme of the show so I was gobsmacked, but the 69ing during pinof??? "so we did what 2 closeted twinks did upon meeting each other for the first time.... put sharpie's cat whiskers on!!!" shut up for the love.

I genuinely loved the role model or no-el model segment. my show was in NC so they first option for Dan as the Mr. Lawyer was he bans ___ and someone said south carolina and they both just were rendered speechless and were like damn oh dear but laughing too.

The boxing match was so hot dear heavens, Dan's expression when Phil came out in the fake- *cough* I mean very real abs. He was acting for his LIFE.

the confessions were so good, just wish it lasted a little longer. the yapping was good and also idk if this was standardized but the whole thing where Phil said "I have a cute but also sociopathic thing going on and I think it's working for me 😌" like shut up you're so adorable

omg the quick change where they kept their mics on and narrated so many innuendos I was dying omg so silly and so funny I loved it. I was really impressed with how fast they changed, but also talked the whole time.

I loved every single solitary part of this show and I loved how they joked about how they were sorry we all went to school with whiskers then got out in the trash (cause yeah basically) and how they literally did raise us and should be blamed for us being feral not our actual legal guardians.

okay so. this show 9/10. here's where the last 1 point went.

please don't kill me, but I wasn't a fan of the song. I'm not entirely sure what it was, but the whole show was so raw and perfect and then the song was just really synthetic and overly autotuned where I personally didn't even hear their voices. like I couldn't tell who was singing which part. the ukulele part was cute, and I really hoped that would've been all of it, I guess the internet is here and interactive introverts and everything's fine just was so good you couldn't raise the bar again, but that was just my personal opinion, I know a lot of people loved the song and it was catchy and cute, I'm just not personally a fan of kpop/synthesized music so I was a little disappointed in the song but the dancing slapped so hard.

Dan flawlessly executing every move and strut and making eye contact with us while Phil very intentionally was focused on not tripping or walking off the stage and looking at Dan a few times to check if he was doing it right MY HEART.

cuties, gay, both of them, love them

overall I spent last night frantically calculating if I could afford to spontaneously go see the Nashville show as well and spend another 10 hours in the car today but regretfully thought against it.

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[ike-garden2024]

So Kenshin 🙃

Mai has the most interesting references and random thoughts I’ve seen from all the MCs, makes me laugh all the time 😂 like I laugh with the others too but I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much with other MCs 😂

Kenshin… what is your thought process??? 😂

That’s one way to word it 😂

… and I don’t care that you’re a “Lord”- oh wait, Mai actually thinks the rest for me hehe

That’s right Mai! Now-

… yes this works too 😅 be thankful Kenshin! Your handler is making sure we don’t add to your collection

… sure … have fun 🙃

Welp meeting Kenshin for more than 1 minute was… something 😂 I’ll admit he does somewhat acknowledge that her idea of getting to know Shingen is a smart move 🤷🏻‍♀️

[universalzones]

"Since you're so obsessed with freedom how about you give me the freedom to do what I want with my life. If it involved turning myself over to GUN then I'm going to do it." Surge had data that Sonic had always pushed for freedom, though seeing it in actions made it came of as some sort of obsession, at least to her. "Besides, I gotta clear Kit. I get arrested, tell them Kit had nothing to do with the town attacks or anything, and you back that up. Hard to deny two people saying the same thing."

"I personally don't know much about GUN, though if this is how they normally act then I agree with Sonic," Belle said, which earned her a death glare from Surge making her take a step back. "Though I completely respect your choice and have nothing else to say." The tinkerer doubt she could even say anything to convince the tenrec anyway. Though her attention went to the speakers along with the other speedsters. Why did she get the feeling this wouldn't stop Surge?

"I ain't going, so you can have fun. I'm going to dash my happy ass over to the check point and stand right in front of it. Dare them to attack and see what happens. They want to be all big and threatening let's see if they can handle someone like me staring at them right in the face." Surge then dashed off, kicking up a fair amount of dust as she did so.

Belle was quick to stand in front of Sonic. "Please, don't chase after her. It sounds like she isn't going to attack them first, and it's not the worse idea. If they're only on standby until Lanolin gives the word we're standing down then they shouldn't attack Surge. Having her just standing at the check point and looking scary isn't that bad." The tinkerer was clearly used to the hedgehogs impulsiveness to be so quick to stand in front of him.

"We'll see what Lanolin wants first, and hope there's a plan to at least leave peacefully. Besides, it'll give you a chance to talk things over with Tails and see if he has a good idea, right?" Belle wasn't sure how much Sonic was willing to listen to her, though was sure he'd listen to Tails much better. "And yes, I could use a ride. Even if I might feel a bit sick afterwards," she said, holding out her hand. Moving at the speed of sound wasn't a fun experience, though it was only a short run and they were short on time.

===========================================================

"Not an option to add that upgrade right now. My hydrokinesis is more of a chaos skill, and while I can control water outside of my pack its not as good because when I suck water into my back the chaos drive inside pumps it with chaos energy. This allows me to control it a lot better. Though to slowly add at a time would require more power to be used, and that'd deplete the chaos driver faster. That's why I always add the water to my pack first before using it." Kitsunami didn't expect Miles to know that, though didn't want his input.

"Not to mention we just want to look tough, not like we're gearing from battle. If the numbers suddenly double it might make GUN more hostile. The turrets are stationary so if they see more it'll just make them nervous at best." Kitsunami didn't want to put too much pressure on GUN as they could easily backfire on them. The fennec then looked hearing Lanolin request quite a few people to the command center.

"Just get the holograms set up and then head to the command center. It shouldn't take that long as I doubt you'll set up that much." Kitsunami was just guessing with that one, though wouldn't be surprised if Miles didn't have that many on his person. "I'll go on ahead." The fennec's not so subtle way to get away from the vulpine. He was dealing with it so far, though really didn't like being around him. With all that said he left and began making his way to the command center.

Honestly? Listening to Surge's plan it wasn't as awful as she made it out to be. her intent was to give herself up no matter what right? So if that was the plan, one last hurrah wasn't awful if he was being pragmatic. Did he like it? No, of course not! He hated the idea of her giving up her freedom to anyone! But she was pretty set on it and if it allowed them plausible deniability then it was a way forward. Even if he was sure it was also an excuse for her to have one last shot at him. She was as eager to throw hands with him as he was to throw hands with her... weird how that worked wasnt it? As for the soldiers they weren't sure what to think. Most of them didn't look ready for a real fight with GUN.

" You are right i don't like it, but... If we had no choice i guess it's a good plan. I just don't know if GUN will buy it or worse try and take us both out... "

He sighed and gripped his wrist rubbing it as if it was sore

" I still think this is a whacked out idea, you giving yourself up and all... Belle will agree with me i'm sure! Giving yourself up to GUN no matter the good intentions is bound to be bad for you... i know you are dead set on this--- but i wanna say it one last time! there has to be a better way..."

Surge wouldn't even get a chance to respond before Lanolin came over the intercom. Calling Sonic, and the others back to the Command center. Which had sonic looking up at a nearby speaker. This was either Lanolin having a killer idea, or bad news for everyone. Sonic was leaning toward bad news... he just felt it in his gut.

" Looks like we might not get a say either way... you need a lift Belle? i bet she'd want you there to..."

He'd hold his hand out to Belle offering to take her to the command center with him. Either way it seemed like this was the end game, either they pulled out victory or GUN Won and restoration came crashing down.

===============================================

Miles tried to ignore how displeased Kit was with calling him his friend. That said he didn't intend to stop calling him that, he wanted to be Kit's friend. But seemed like no matter what he did they'd always be enemies. Chaos was he pulling a Sonic on this one? He didn't want to think about it. But Kit was right about seeing through the holograms but the idea was just to buy them time to form a counter offensive.

" You aren't wrong a sharp eye can see through them, but its meant more to just make the enemy pause. This is a deterrent after all not a means of attack. "

He tapped his chin and slowly looked up to the roof

" As for water... if things do get dicey we can set off the sprinklers. That should flood the room with water and give you enough offense to push back any attack. Heh you ever thought about hydroscopic water filtration for your pack? is always water in the air, you could probably pull water in that way, slowly refilling your pack over time. "

The head Nurse only smiled at the two seeing the tension and fidgeting with her Wispeon. She let the two speak before placing a hand on her hip and speaking up with a cheerful tone!

" Why holograms? I can alwaos duplicate more of myself! i can do around 200 at max... though that's stressing myself a bit. The more i create the less intelligent the copies become. but if you just need me to stand around and look intimidating... we can do that! Though i'd prefer not getting myself killed as it were--- i kind of remember when that happens... its not pleasant. "

She squeaked as if remembering several moments her copies died, and she had to deal with the consequences. Miles figured anything the copy experienced she also experienced. So they were probably a sort of hive mind, the more copies there were, the more connections she made the more of her was spread out among the copies. So this was how Altiss kept his base safe--- his nurse was a real power house when you thought about it from a numbers game. Though clearly she was acting brave, and probably not a good fighter.

" Neat... i gotta say that's a killer gift... but let's not put you in more danger then your in. Plus, you have patients to care for to... let's just stick to holograms... unless we need the extra firepower. "

Miles stopped as the intercom went live, and Lanolins message went out calling all of them to the command center. He gave Kit a glance wondering what changed but, guessed they should grab the belle bot and head to the command center. though he hoped Dawn and the others would be ok till they returned.

" Guess Lanolin is up to something... might as well put our plans on hold for now... "

[mouthpoisons]

another addition to All This and a small elaboration on the idea that ''viktor came close to winning the game/escaping the narrative when he tried to transmutate after the running scene'' to clear up what i actually mean by that, since according to my theory, isnt him using the hexcore at any point just playing into its hands regardless of when he does it? no, i dont think so!

hold my hand and walk with me a bit. i barely have the words in my vocabulary to explain the concept im trying to get across here but you have to view these scenes in the context of their sudden, almost out of nowhere emotional impacts and how it all makes the characters, and us, feel. the massive change in trajectory/personality/goals that these moments present for the characters, not just whats physically happening. keep in mind my overall theory that magic is sentient and wants both of these characters to fail, to experience tragedy and guilt, to push everyone to the end goal of viktor apocalpse wizard. arcane is a butterfly effect in reverse and there is a Fixed Ending we are hurtling towards that everyone needs to excape in s2 act3.

yes my tinfoil hat gained like 50 layers the past few days idgaf!!!!! its fun and it makes sense!!!!!

simply put i view these two scenes as being like, the same. powder and viktor have these big beautiful moments of Finally Figuring It Out, which are suddenly violently cut short by the worst possible outcome happening. if nothing inexplicably horrific happened to either of them after their big moments of Figuring It Out, the narrative literally wouldve... lost their grip on them. they wouldve tricked the arcane and used it against itself, to Win The Game. powder, vander, vi, mylo, and claggor wouldve gone home happily. viktor wouldve transmutated and completely healed himself, with no strings attached, and wouldve been like lalalalala with jayce in the lab making toys forever.

my idea is that these and other complete heel turn, sudden, catastrophic The Tower moments that barge in like ''fuck you, im changing your entire life trajectory now'' arent accidental, arent viktor or powders fault, but are calculated moves by the arcane to further the story *it* wants to happen. to turn these characters into who *it* wants them to be.

powder ''accidentally'' kills her family and is firmly set back on the road to becoming jinx - someone who will continue to use arcane weaponry to devastating effect and cause more necessary death and tragedy

viktor ''accidentally'' kills sky and is firmly set back on the path of becoming the apocalypse wizard (someone who will also use the arcane to devastating effect)

they both even acquire voices/presences in their heads that remind them to Stay Feelin Guilty after these moments

basically

[blueberri-blu]

Learning You...

Mikey ♡

[Bayverse] Slowly getting to know Mikey ♡

Leo ♡⁠˖ Donnie ♡⁠˖ Raph♡⁠˖

Meeting Him:

You met through April, her thinking you two would hit it off

(and knows Mikey wants more friends)

He immediately starts flirting with you

You just start giggling, realizing it's just his personality

You both have been joined at the hip since then

I'm sorry this is so short but I feel like with Mikey you wouldn't take long to become friends!

Befriending him

You and Mikey have competitions to see who can eat the most pizza

Or beat the other in a video game

But you just giggle it off as Mikey being mikey

Or skate better

AKA, Competitions all around

Very friendly, giggly, joking Competitions

You'll have long movie marathons, with Mikey and you making fun of the movies (we all know he can't sit still for long)

He is constantly flirting with you "Angel cakes, baby, sweetcheeks, Babycakes" you name it

But you just giggle it off as Mikey being Mikey

Eventually you both are trying out pick up lines on each other

This always ends in huge laughing fits that are so loud even Even can hear them

Honestly? Y'all are just like those elementary school best friends on the playground

"I'd die for you, you're my bff"

"omg so would I!! You're MY bff"

You'll start inviting Mikey over so you two can get some time off, show him around your apartment/house

If you have any, and I mean ANY pets, he is in love immediately

You two will watch TV shows for hours

If y'all end up watching Euphoria, he'll say "wow your highschool must've had drama novela style"

You'll have to explain to him that no, most high schoolers aren't doing hard drugs in the bathroom, and that yes, maybe a few hook up in the school bathrooms

All in all, you and Mikey hit it off right away and have a friendship even the mane six from my little pony would be jealous of

First Date

Your first date takes... awhile to be honest

With Mikey always flirting with you, you can't tell the difference between joking, and Mikey trying to ask you out

Mikey goes to April for advice

She tells him that, it's not really special when he talks like that to everyone

So, Mikey thinks of a plan

Influenced a little bit by Leo

He brings you a box of pizza to your place

And when you open it, it's a heart pizza, and in the box in sharpie is written "will you be my only love?" With Classic by MKTO playing in the background

You two stay the night at your place, playing video games, watching TV shows (you show him reality TV and he is hooked.)

At the end of the night, Mikey is confident and leans in for a kiss

If you kiss him back, after he'll be breakdancing a "victory dance" in your living room

If you pull away and say you don't kiss on the first date

Hell immediately start planning your second, third, fourth date and, if you let him, your wedding

Dating

Mikey is very touchy

He loves PDA and physical affection in general

If you do too, you can't keep your hands off of eachother

His brothers, don't appreciate it

If you don't like PDA or physical affection as much (in public) he will have a pillow to hold and cuddle with while he holds your hand

He doesn't care if he has to wait for you to be comfy for physical affection

In his words "my sexy Angel cakes, no need to rush, imma have you forever, right?"

Omg he is so sweet

His brothers are kind of happy he has you now tho, you entertain almost all of his ideas, and Mikey never feels stupid or dumb around you

You even encourage him to try some of his (non dangerous) ideas, just so you two can see what happens

I can totally see Mikey teaching you to ride on a skateboard

Thankfully his "powerful lou jitsu ninja skills" as he puts it, give him the reflexes to always catch you

If you don't get the hang of it, that's ok!

Mikey loves it when you and him share his skateboard,

His two favorite things, you and skateboarding (all that's missing is pizza)

You'll go to skateparks that are either closed down

Or just closed at night with no one there at night

You bring a calming presence to his chaos

Always encouraging him to try things, but within safe limits

Mikey brings out an adventurous side of you tho

He loves cuddling you, big spoon or little spoon, you on top, him on top, he doesn't care!

Dating Mikey means pizza, skating, adventure, movies and gaming

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

[thatnonameuser]

Ooh hearing about the events in your Yandere au, I can only imagine how fed up MC is by the time of Playful Land that, when they’re all locked in, I can just imagine her immediately joining Jade and Lilia in trying to destroy the locks. If only to have something to vent all her anger and frustrations on which promptly bites her in the butt via puppetification.

Especially after a day of running from one group to another and having forced, sort of date moments with the various boys. Vil and Floyd instantly locking in on the “order the losers around” during the pool game that MC’s like “I’m in danger we HAVE to win”. There will nearly be a brawl on who gets to sit next to MC and multiple folks glaring at Grim for smugly sitting in her lap. At least Rave Up is far less annoying song than Neige’s when she’s forced up on stage with the gang.

Wonder if Fellow would be more of a platonic yandere towards MC, and possibly one to Gidel too, taking extreme lengths to make sure Gidel’s cared for and protected.

I imagine she saw straight through Fellow’s free ticket scam  and didn’t want to go like the other rational people, but Grim wanted to and she got dragged into it. 

And the ‘date’ moments. At this point the MC is fed up with all the drama and chaos of being the darling to so, SO many yanderes, so she’s just completely numb to their shenanigans.

So she goes on the ‘dates’ begrudgingly. 

The rollercoaster, there’s fighting on who gets to sit next to her. She argues that if they don’t calm down and figure out where everyone sits like rational people, she won’t ride at all. So they play rock-paper-scissors for it. And yes, Grim sits on her lap. (She regrets that, because Grim had a bright idea to try and eat the tuna, but Grim is better than any of the others.)

The game area, she gets roped into that bet and while she’s terrified of losing, she can’t deny the wonderful possibility of ordering the losers to leave her the hell alone. So obviously she’s on Ortho’s team, after seeing him play so perfectly. Victory is sweet when it saves her mental health.

The most fun she’ll probably have is with the last group in the Seabed Stroll, mostly because it’s with two of the more chill yanderes (and Leona’s there too) and the attraction was cool. Also she’ll laugh her butt off watching Jack and Leona riding the merry-go-round. 

While the MC avoids being on stage like the plague after the VDC, she does have a little fun with that, Maybe that’s what relaxes her fears about Playful Land.

(But first imagine if Playful Land had a Tunnel of Love, the fight that would have broken out definitely would have destroyed the park)

Only to be proved completely right after they get locked in. And then after they get locked in, she immediately tries to break the locks to escape, and only to realize she can’t move and becoming very, very panicked at the realization that she’s at the mercy of either the kidnappers or her very, very obsessed yanderes. (she picks the kidnappers BTW, it's the lesser of two evils).

Obviously, she gets her own cage as a puppet. After all, you’re the best out of all of them in the eyes of the Fellow and Gidel, and you would fetch a high price if the boss sold you.

But to amend the yandere types, I orginally wrote a romantic yandere for Fellow/Ernesto, (check the masterlist) but platonic also works too. Maybe he lets her out because ‘she’s not one of the other NRC students so his boss doesn’t want her’ but actually because he’s more interested with keeping her out of being a puppet slave for the rest of her life, and that the boys deserve it for what they put her through. But since she tried to run for it, she gets to be a puppet for now until the trade off is over with.

Think that’s all I’m gonna say for now till I get around to doing that event. Thanks for asking, anyways!