#i think i was just expecting people to love me as well

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[moonstruckme]

hi maeeee!! can i request a poly! marauders where maybe reader is fighting with only one them and the others are shocked when they find out and try their very best to fix it even though things are quite tense? thanks maeeeee ilyyyy💐💐💐

Thanks for your patience with this one angel! It's not as angsty as I planned when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

It’s James who finds you this time. You’re curled up in a corner of the couch, pretending to read whilst secretly feeling sorry for yourself. Your boyfriend sits next to you, touching your shoulder so that you turn to him for a kiss. 

“Still upset?” he asks after a peck. 

You ignore the complicated, knotty feeling that makes itself known in your chest. “Not at you.” 

“No, I know.” James smiles a little, gifting you another kiss. “I’d be coming in here with my tail between my legs if you were. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of either you or Rem’s wrath.” 

You stay quiet. You wouldn’t go so far as to call what you’re feeling wrath—that seems a tad dramatic to describe the low flame of vexation you’ve been burning for your tallest boyfriend—but you don’t feel like opening yourself up to the subject with James. You’ve already heard it from Sirius this morning. 

“Angel.” James gives your shoulder a cajoling squeeze. “Come on, when are the two of you going to get past this? It’s very awkward sleeping in the same bed with two people who are quarreling, you know.” 

“We sleep exactly the same as every other night.” 

“There’s underlying tension,” he counters lightly. You roll your eyes, and James laughs. “Oi, don’t get cross with me now, too. I’m just telling you about my lived experience.” He leans his head on your shoulder, all sweetness and treachery. “You’re really not gonna forgive him? You know he’s gonna stick you with Sirius in the divorce.” 

You huff a laugh. James grins up at you hopefully. You know there’s some sense to what he’s saying; one of you has to be the bigger person eventually. It had started small, a stupid disagreement, but you and Remus are each stubborn and petty enough to not want to admit where you were wrong. Now you’re more angry with him for being angry with you than for anything else. 

When you think of his coldness to you—never mind the fact that you’ve been cold to him in turn—that flame of vexation burns a little brighter. 

“I don’t know why you’re over here trying to convince me,” you tell James. “I won’t have any problem forgiving him if he actually apologizes.” 

James sighs. You look down at your book to avoid his disappointment. 

“Okay, then. But he does feel really bad, so you know. He’s in the bedroom with one of his headaches, and he asked if you were still upset with him.” You look up. James levels you with a weighted look. “Could probably really use a cuddle, if you two were on good terms.” 

James is at least only somewhat smug when you abandon your book to go to the bedroom. You pass Sirius in the hall, who gives you a smile and a firm peck on the lips, likely having just left Remus himself. You enter the bedroom expecting to see the curtains drawn, lights off, and your poorly boyfriend in bed, but instead Remus is standing, well lit by the daylight streaming in through the windows, book tented on the bed still made from this morning. He appears as though he was just on his way out. 

“Erm, hi,” he says, brows pulled together in the middle. He looks to be studying you. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” you answer, bemused. “Are…are you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The door clicks shut behind you. You startle at the sound, not having closed it yourself. Then, you watch as a resigned sort of irritation comes over Remus’ features at the same time as it settles into you. 

“Pricks.” He moves past you to the door, jiggling the handle. “It only locks from the inside, you twats.” 

“Love you too,” comes Sirius’ voice. “You can come out after you kiss and make up.” 

“And say you’re sorry!” adds James. 

Remus scowls. 

“Open it,” you tell him. 

“What do you think I’m trying to do? One of them is holding it shut.” 

“Let me try.” 

“Be my guest.” Remus steps back, letting you have a go at the handle. By putting everything you have into it you manage to twist it, but you can’t get it open even an inch. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, gorgeous.” Sirius sounds smug enough to make your face feel hot. “James is holding it on the other side here, a few more minutes and you’ll make him break a sweat.” 

You let go of the handle with a huff, turning and stalking towards the bedroom window. You start moving the desk out of your way. 

“Would you really rather climb out the window than be in a room with me?” asks Remus. You look over your shoulder, and he’s sitting on the bed, side-eyeing you with his back propped against the pillows. 

“It’s not about you.” You shove your hip into the desk, budging it enough for you to get at the window latch. “They lied and made me feel all guilty just so they could lock us in here.” 

“What’d they tell you?”

You try to get your fingernail behind the latch. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Sirius had me thinking you were quite upset.” 

“Yeah, and probably that I was asking after you, right? James told me you had a bad headache.” 

A chuckle. “That was enough to make you come in here looking so flustered?” 

“My mistake,” you huff, but it turns to a short whimper when your nail breaks. “Christ, you’d think they’d make these easier to open. What if there was a fire?” 

“Don’t go out the window,” Remus says calmly. “You’ll ruin your tights.” 

You work another nail behind the latch. “I can’t just let them win.” 

“Mm. That’s a bit of a problem for you, is it?” 

A bitter coolness settles over you. You turn, crossing your arms. “Something to say?” 

Remus picks up his book, cornering a page. “Just making an observation, is all.” 

“Remus,” you say sternly. “Don’t act like you’re any better. You could’ve apologized at any time.” 

Your boyfriend levels you with a look. “Would that really have made a difference?”

“Yes!” 

“Honestly?” He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All I have to do is say I’m sorry, and you’ll forget about all of this and be completely happy with me?” 

You shake your head, bewildered. “…Yeah. I mean, I would want to know that you understood how you hurt my feelings, but yeah. Really, it’s not that complicated.” 

Remus’ expression softens. “I do understand that, dove. Do you understand how you hurt mine?” 

“I…” You find you can’t quite look at him. “I imagine it’s sort of similar. Because I’ve been cold to you.” 

“And because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says. It doesn’t sound like I told you so, not smug so much as gentle. “But it was a small thing to begin with, wasn’t it? I’m ready to be past it.” 

You frown at him. “It’s not about the argument for me. I’m already past that, it’s just everything else.” 

Remus considers you. “Would you come here, please?” 

You swear you wouldn’t go if he didn’t sound so kind. But you find yourself with your legs curled underneath you on the bed in front of him, Remus coaxing your hands into his. 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes. “It was a silly argument, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, sizing up whether he means it. “I…also could have been less stubborn,” you admit begrudgingly. Your tone softens. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, too. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” Remus’ touch coasts from your hands up your arms as he pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. “Are we okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, mollified. 

He smiles at you. “Hear that?” he says towards the door. “You can let us out now.” 

There’s no response. 

Remus frowns as you get out of bed, going to try the handle. The door comes open, revealing and empty hallway. 

“Pricks,” Remus mutters. 

You find your boyfriends in the living room, James flicking through channels on the telly while Sirius reads the back cover of your book. James notices you first. 

“Oh, hello.” He grins at you as Sirius looks over. “All sorted, then?” 

You’re half tempted to pretend you didn’t make up just to spite them. When you look over at Remus, you suspect he’s thinking the same thing. 

“That was sort of mean, lying to me like that,” you say to James instead. 

He looks a bit contrite, but Sirius says insouciantly, “You were never gonna do it by yourselves, babe. We weren’t ready to start divvying up the furniture because you wanted to have a row.” 

You kiss your teeth. “I think I might be having a row with you now.” 

“What, us?” James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “What for?” 

“You lied to us both to make us feel bad,” Remus reminds him, “and then locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius isn’t impressed. “Well, it wasn’t really locked, was it. If you’d gotten desperate, you could’ve taken it off the hinges. Or just checked again after a couple minutes.” 

“She broke her nail trying to get the window open.” 

You hold up your torn fingernail as proof. Sirius coos, reaching for your finger and bringing it to his lips while you scowl at him. 

“Sorry, lovie. We had a plan to bring you food in a couple hours,” says James. “We were even going to let you out for bathroom breaks if you needed to go.” 

“Really, you wrapped it up much quicker than we were expecting,” Sirius praises. He’s still holding your finger, drawing his thumb up and down the side in easy, consoling strokes. “We thought you’d ice each other out until supper at least. I’m quite proud of you.” 

Remus scoffs. 

“Oh, come now.” Sirius grins. “Give us a kiss.” 

You roll your eyes but turn to Remus, extricating your finger from Sirius’ grasp to meet him in a chaste kiss. 

The other boys cheer. “There we are!” James tilts his face up expectantly. “Now one for me.” 

You and Remus exchange a look. 

“No,” you say coolly, “I don’t think so.” The two of you go to sit on the far side of the couch, away from both Sirius and James with you curled against Remus’ side. He looks a tad smug as he puts his arm around you. 

“Oi!” says Sirius. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made James pull his sad puppy face. What do you have to say for yourselves?” 

“You lied to us,” you say again, slowly, with emphasis, “and locked us in the bedroom.” 

Sirius scoffs. “So dramatic.” 

“Oh, that’s rich.” 

“Will it help if we say sorry?” James asks meekly. 

Remus looks at you. You shrug. 

“Maybe,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to try and find out.”

[beautifullilacsky]

Babygirl. We have come so far.

Today, your thoughts turned around to the past. They shook hands with the way we used to treat ourselves. It started off on a note I'd never expect it to start off of, though; look at that picture of me, the one in the natural pool in Madeira. The first time I looked at it, I was truly surprised and shooketh. "Damn, I look thin", as to which niklas said that that's how I always look, I am, in fact, thin. I didn't count, but I think I asked him at least 3 times. "Do I truly look like this?" He did say that the angle might be making me look extra thin, but yes. Suddenly, it all clicked. How to him, I can seem so fragile. So fragile that he'd always let me walk first on hikes to make sure the pace is okay, always carrying the backpack himself. The way he is scared of hurting me, like, physically. The picture looks like a tiny, thin, and fragile girl. Yeah tbh, she also doesn't look particularly strong. You can see her collarbones. Her ribs. Her shoulders. Tbh, she also looks a bit like a petshop. I do think the gopro did something with the angle there, u can't tell me my head is out of proportion to my tiny body, lol. My point is. Today, I was doubting whether or not I should eat those cookies. After thinking if it'd make me thick, I remembered. I am v thin, more weight wouldn't be so bad.

I never expected to truly feel skinny. Or well, 'too skinny', at least. To think I could gain some weight; it wouldn't be a problem. That is very new to me. After 25 years. Some of those years being spend hating my body and my belly and feeling overweight, even if my teacher even told me that being underweight is dangerous, her eyes seemingly insinuating the obvious.

Yet here I am. This one picture. And tbh, the other pics or videos of this vacation, don't have the same vibe. So I do think it's the angle. And maybe a bit of a fishbowl effect. Either way. It got me thinking. And suddenly I was thinking of it again: boobs. I am also reading 'the 7 husband's of Evelyn Hugo', who seduced men with her big boobs. Somehow, booby enlargement came to my mind again. Why? It's been so long. I have learned to love my boobs, yet this blast of the past came into my head. Actually,.. it is just a thought. It is actually nice. A reminder of where we came from.

How I hated my body in the past. And here I am. Loving every single part of it. Frankly, I love my boobs the way they are. Sure, they might not be super big, but I don't need to hold them when I run or sprint down the stairs. Sure, they are soft in the middle instead of pointy, but I think it's fascinating how certain temperatures, moods and touches can change that. Sure, they don't touch, but at least it also won't create a hot brew in there or trap my clothes inbetween or underneath my boobs. Honestly, they are truly perfect. (Even the little pimple on there right now. Even though I am a bit scared; is it truly a pimple? It should be, it behaves like one for sure.) I can cup one into my hand; it is a perfect fit. As if they were made to be held so gently and smoothly. So filled with love. So, ... true. My hand can touch all of its beautiful creases. They don't overflow my hands, nor do I need to search to find them. Sure, some might have bigger boobs, but not everyone likes that. Some people get attention just because of it. I am truly happy to be able to say that a lot of people just like me for my personality. The looks are for sure also there, but at least my boobs don't get eye-fucked or objectified. I am myself. Perfect the way I am. And I am grateful to be this exact way. I think my boobs are adorable, they are cute, and truly. Truly beautiful. Thanks boobs, for being w me always. And I'm sorry that I didn't see the beauty of you guys for a part of my life. I am happy that I do now, since a while. Love u, boobies. Lol.

Anyhow. I wish to send myself love letters. See this is a loveletter to one of the bodyparts which I was insecure about in the past. Let me show them some true love, which is exactly what they deserve.

[literally-loco]

Lend a Hand? (18+)

Pairings : Johnny “Soap” Mactavish / Fem!Reader / Simon “Ghost” Riley Content Warnings : PIV Sex, Oral (Fem receiving) Voyeurism, She/Her pronouns used, [slut] used, praise Word Count: 3K A/N: This is my first time actually posting my writing-thank you SO much for reading xoxo

————————————————————————-

“You want me…to fuck your best friend?”

————————————————————————-

You almost dropped the dish you were scrubbing and looked over at your boyfriend in disbelief. Did he seriously just ask that, like it was nothing?

“What?” By the look on his face, you wondered if you’d misheard him. That was the face of someone asking what you wanted for dinner, or if you’d taken the bins out.

“What’d you say Johnny?” You asked, letting the plate fall softly back into the soap(hah funny) filled water.

“Simon. Think you’d ever fuck him?” He barely looked up from his phone, letting his arm drape lazily over the back of your well-loved sofa. It wasn’t your hearing messing up-he’d actually said that. You faltered slightly, turning around to look at your boyfriend.

“I mean-Johnny where’s this coming from?” You asked hesitantly. Johnny had never been an insecure boyfriend-he’d proudly show you off to his friends at any given chance. You’d be the one to choose the less revealing outfits, he was just so desperate to show his friends how lucky he got.

“He’s been in a bad mood lately. ‘Think he needs a good fuck.” Johnny finally met your gaze, placing his phone down on the console table to give you his full attention. “I haven’t said anything yet-not to him.” He clarified, clearing his throat as he spoke. ”I trust him to not be a stupid bastard-most of the time-and, you know, he’s not a bad looker-“

“You want me…to fuck your best friend?” You cut him off, a shocked look on your face. You hadn’t thought about it before, hell, Johnny hadn’t brought it up before. You’d never really thought of Simon in that way, the man that managed to darken any doorway with his sheer presence. The man with eyes so deep you could spend days exploring them. The man who never gave away so much as a hint of who he really was-the man who you could spend hours interrogating and all you’d get was a migraine.

“I mean, yeah? Only if you want to hen, completely up to you.” His words were gentle, not pushy or pressuring, but a question. “I’d be in the room with you, right next to you if you wanted. And it’s Simon-not just anyone, Si-“

“I’ll do it.” You answered-suddenly quite sure of yourself. You’d had sex with people other than Johnny, sure, but never whilst you were dating anyone. It was new, that’s for sure, but was new necessarily bad? Johnny would be right there-he said so, and it was Simon. You’d met him countless times. And he was Johnny’s best friend-his brother in arms.

“Grand, I’ll shoot him a message.”

————————————————————————-

Three days has passed since Johnny had sent the message, and all you’d got in response was “Ok.”.

You opened the door, expecting your shopping, and was instead met with the wall that was Simon. You felt warmth creep up your neck to your face as it dawned on you. Today was the day. What felt like minutes passed, and you were still stood in the doorway.

“Am I coming in?” His gruff voice asked, placing a gloved hand on the doorframe. You quickly moved to the side, and he walked his way in. “So we’re doin’ this?”

“Ah-yeah! You can still back ou-“

“No.” He cut you off, turning back to meet your gaze with those explorer worthy eyes. “I want to.” You just nodded, glancing back to wonder how a man could spend so long in the bathroom.

Johnny welcomed Simon soon after, pulling him into a hug, before leading him to the sofa. Unsure of how exactly this was going to go, you stood beside your boyfriend, letting a hand rest on his shoulder for comfort.

“Come sit down lass.” Johnny murmured, pulling you onto his lap as he continued talking to Simon about when they were next needed on base, the gentle rhythm of his finger gently stroking your thigh easing the building anxiety of what was to come.

“We doin’ this?” You glanced over at Simon’s sudden words, and caught sight of the small grin that had appeared on your boyfriend’s face. “Hope it’s not too..err..rushed-I assume Johnny already made out that I was some sex starved bastard.” Johnny snorted at that, his light strokes on your thigh soon turned into him gripping it tight, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.

“Bit eager to fuck my girl, aren’t you Simon?” His grip stayed firm, almost holding you in place on his lap.

“Never said I wasn’t, Johnny.” Simon retaliated, his gaze staying fixed on you, those blue eyes meeting your gaze beneath his ever so familiar mask.

“Ready hen?” You barely had time to choke out a small “Yes” before Johnny was lifting you up, and carrying you into your shared bedroom.

————————————————————————-

You were used to the familiar sense of Johnny tossing you onto the bed with the greed of a starved man entering a banquet, but this time he ever so gently placed you down.

His gaze turned to face the shadow darkening your door frame, and spoke firmly. “Traffic lights rule apply-Green for go, amber for slow down, red for stop.” He shifted his body so he was facing you, his perfectly blue eyes meeting your gaze. “You still wanna do this? You can back out anytime lovie-mean it. He won’t be mad-neither will I.” His tone was gentle, but firm in a way that evidenced he meant what he said. You met his lips with yours, planting a soft kiss on his.

“I know. I want to.” And you did. Three days had passed-but it had been on your mind. How Simon would be the one to fuck you. How the hands you’d ever only seen gloved would be all over you. You’d wondered how he’d fuck you-would he be gentle? All soft words and soft hands. Would he be rough? Moving you around as if you weighed nothing, whispering harsh words into your ear as he ravaged you. It was enough to get you flushed in bed, lying next to Johnny.

“Don’t just stand there then Simon-not when she’s already on the bed, looking this pretty for you.” Johnny sat down in the corner chair, his gaze never leaving Simon-as he watched him slowly walk up to the bed.

You’d never considered the size difference before this. Johnny was tall, yes, but Simon was big. He easily towered over you, even when he crawled onto the bed, right by your legs.

His hands slowly met your legs, and a shiver ran down your spine. Even with those gloves on, you could still feel the heat radiating from his body, a stark contrast to how cold you felt. Gently pushing your legs to the side-his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any hint of discomfort-he settled in between them, blocking out the brightness from the ceiling light.

His hands continued their wander, up your lower legs, over your knees, and settled on your thighs. “This okay?” His rough voice asked, and you nodded. “Need an answer, I asked you a question, didn’t I?” You hadn’t expected him to sound so assertive, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah-Yeah that’s okay.” You murmured, keeping your gaze on his masked face.

“Good.” His hands continued their journey, ending up on your waist, just under your shirt. “Want to lose this?” He gently teased the seam of your shirt, and you nodded once more. “Gotta speak up for me lovie.”

Once you’d consented, he carefully supported your back up, and lifted your shirt over your head.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He murmured-quiet enough that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear. His gloved hands ran up your torso,

thumbs gentry stroking the skin just under your bra-wire. You sat up, gently moving him off you to reach behind your back. Simon scooted back, confused at first and searching for the uncertainty in your eyes. But when your bra fell forward, and you tossed it off the bed, his eye lit up. “So eager for me..” He murmured, lunging forward with his mouth stopping just over your nipple.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You murmured, taking a deep breath when you realised what he was about to do.

Barely waiting a second after you answered, he reached up to lift the mask onto his nose, revealing his scarred mouth. In an instant, his mouth was on your nipple, licking and sucking on it as if he would never be able to again. One of his hands moved to tease your other nipple-drawing a soft, desperate sound out of you. He captures it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching slightly to harden it between his fingers.

Desperate to pull that beautiful sound out of you again, he swapped over, palming your now damn breast with the gloved palm of his hand. “Such pretty fucking tits.”

“Aren’t they just?” Johnny’s voice chimed in, and your gaze turned to him. He got up out of his chair, and strode over to the bed. Crouching beside you, he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Keep looking at him hen-keep those pretty eyes on him.” You nodded, turning your gaze back to Simon, and found his eyes staring up into yours. You’d never seen him so blissed before, suckling on your tit like he’d never see one again.

“You like that, eh? Having my best friends hands on you, teasing you, touching you?” Johnny murmured in your ear, and turned your face back when you went to look at him. “What did I say? Eyes on him.”

All you could do was let out a pretty whine when he pinched your nipple between his finger-sending jolts of pleasure down to your cunt, and earning a sharp inhale from Simon.

“She liked that, didn’t she L.T?”

Simon lifted his head, palming your breasts with his hands.

“You want some more hen? Is that it?” Your boyfriend murmured, and Simon’s hands slid off your tits, and down your torso until they rested on your hips. He-awkwardly-shuffled down the bed, until his head rested on your thigh.

“Are we losing these?” Simon murmured, his fingers resting on the hem of your shorts.

“Please…Simon..” You gasped, watching the small smirk appear on his face.

“So sweet for me-aren’t ya?” He breathed, gently pulling down your shorts and panties until you could kick them off.

“She’s awful sweet when she wants to get fucked.” Johnny chuckled, his hand on the back of your head to force your gaze down to Simon.

“All this, just from me worshiping those pretty tits?” You instinctively went to close your thighs, but his hands pushed them back open. “I’m not hearing red.” Simon’s eyes went up to meet yours, as he licked the first stipe up your folds.

You swear you met God.

A soft whine escaped your lips and the vibrations of his low chuckle ran up your spine. “So fucking sensitive-aren’t you?” You watched his eyes flutter shut as he darted his tongue over your bundle of nerves, and you couldn’t help but arch your hips into him.

Simon ate pussy like it was his last meal. He wasn’t sloppy, but you were sure the combined effort of his saliva and your wetness had made you a sopping mess for him. His hands left your inner thighs-and you didn’t quite understand why until you felt his thumb circling your clit. One gloved hand rested on your lower stomach, as you bucked your hips into his face. “Yeah-you’re real sensitive.” He murmured, his mouth taking over from his thumb, making what you assumed was a figure of eight over your clit.

With the ungloved hand-his middle finger gently teased your hole, until he pushed it inside to gently begin fucking you on his finger.

You definitely met God.

You should’ve guessed his hands would be thick-he was huge-but this was something else.

“You like that, hen? Knowing that my best friend is knuckle deep inside you, fingerfucking you.” Johnny whispered in your ear, planting soft kisses on the underside of your jaw. ”You love this. Knowing that whilst I’m planting kisses here-Simon is worshiping your drenched cunt.”

You bit your lip to stifle the gasps and whines that threatened to escaped, when something else pressed against your lips.

“Open.” Johnny murmured, and you tasted leather. Simon’s glove. “Bite down.” And you did-eyes rolling back as Simon added another finger inside you, stretching you.

“Ain’t that a sight L.T? These beautiful fucking tits, hard and wet, and her face blissed out whilst she has to bite down on your glove.”

You swear you heard Simon groan at the sight, increasing the speed of his hand, as his thumb found your clit again. Your back arched up at the sensation, and you heard him chuckle.

“Squeezing my fingers so fucking tight-you gonna cum? Going to cum on my fucking fingers?” All he got in response was your stifled whines, your gaze still meeting his. It was too much and not enough at the same time-your hips rocked against his hand, and the way his thumb drew circles on your clit had that tight knot inside you tightening, and tightening.

“C’mon lovie-cum for me.”

And all at once you felt that knot unravel-and you were soaring off the cliff. Simon’s hands gripped your shaking thighs, fingerfucking you through your orgasm. “Oh good girl…was that good? Looked so fucking good, didn’t she Johnny?” Simon murmured, planting soft kisses on your inner thighs.

“Looked beautiful hen.”

“Gonna let me fuck you doll?” Simon groaned, pulling his fingers free from your dripping wet pussy. “Gonna let me fuck you senseless, until you can’t even think?”

“Mmph-please Si..-“ You whined around his glove, clenching around nothing. Johnny chuckled, tilting your head up to face him. “Real fucking polite for someone fucking their boyfriends best friend.” He teased, forcing your head to look back at Simon.

You’d imagined a lot about this moment, but what you hadn’t considered was his size. Johnny was big, but Simon was huge. Uncut, and tilting slightly upwards, and perfect.

“God she’s drooling over it L.T.” Your boyfriend cooed, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Drooling all over that fucking glove.”

Simon crawled up the bed until he was kneeling between your legs, the tip of his cock just ghosting over your pussy. “It’ll hurt for a bit lovie, but I know you can take it. Red and we stop.” His hands gripped your hips, digging into the flesh hard enough you were sure it’d bruise. He was gentle at first-pulling your hips close so he could push in. The moan that escaped around the glove was downright dirty, but you kept your gaze on him.

It took a while, and patience, but he bottomed out inside you, his hips flushed against yours. And the filthy moan that shuddered out of him was incredible.

“Just gonna sit there Simon?” Johnny teased, and was met with a stern glare.

“Recalculating Johnny. Didn’t realise how fucking-Jesus-tight she’d be.” He panted, pulling out nearly completely, before thrusting back in. “And so-so fucking warm.” He gasped, shuddering slightly as he thrust into you once more.

“Taking him so well hen, isn’t she Simon?” Johnny cooed in your ear, his hand resting on your throat.

“So-so fucking good.” Simon uttered back, getting a firmer grip on your hips as he picked up a regular pace.

“Such a good little slut for us, fucking my best friend whilst I watch.”

Simon let out a breathtakingly beautiful moan at that word-his head falling back slightly. “She-she fucking squeezed me Johnny.”

“She likes being a slut, don’t you hen? A little slut that gets fucked.” Your boyfriend chuckled, and Simon picked the pace up.

“Is-is that it? You like being fucked?” Simon groaned, drawing a string of moans to escape your lips as he picked up the pace. “Yeah you do-you love having your boyfriend watch you fuck someone else.”

His fingers found your clit again-and your legs instinctively squeezed around his waist. “Atta-fucking-girl.” Simon growled, the one hand gripping your waist moving to rest just over your collarbones. “Like that? Like having someone tower over you whilst they fuck you into the mattress?” He leaned over you completely, his head resting in the crook of your neck to leave open mouthed kisses.

“Gonna cum again? Gonna cum on my cock-yeah, you are.” His voice was rough in your ear, and you felt that knot tightening in your lower abdomen again. “Squeezing me so fucking tight-God you’re so fucking perfect. Wanted to fuck you for ages.” He shuddered, his rhythm faltering slightly. “Every time I saw you-those fucking eyes. Knew I needed them looking up at me as i f-fucked you.”

“Gon-gonna-“ You whined against the glove, no doubt biting through it at this point. And that was it-that knot unraveled once more, leaving your legs trembling around his waist.

“Gonna cum lovie-gonna fuck-fucking-“ He gasped, quickly pulling out as hot cum splashed onto your lower stomach.

It wasn’t until you heard Johnny’s own shuddering gasp that you realised he’d gotten off on this. How you didn’t consider he maybe liked watching, it was unknown.

“Open.” Simon’s gruff voice sounded next to your ear, cleaning the cum off your stomach with his fingers. You obeyed-and his fingers set on the flat of your tongue. You sucked on his fingers-until he pulled them out, and took the glove off of your chest.

“How’d you feel now Simon?” Your boyfriend teased, earning a tired glare from Simon.

“Should be asking her that. She’s been so fucking good for me.” His eyes bore down into yours as he knelt between your trembling thighs.

“Let’s get you cleaned up hen.” And you were scooped off the bed, your boyfriend carrying you into the en suite bathroom.

————————————————————————-

It was gone ten by the time Simon went home, and you’d ended up curled on the sofa with Johnny. “How was that hen?” He murmured, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

You hummed, looking up at him. “Do you want to do it again sometime?” You asked your boyfriend, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“I think that can be arranged.”

————��———————————————————-

[tsuutarr]

Hehe

Unleash Fox dilf! Jiu-jitsu please

Succubus anon💋💞

One foxy dilf coming up~

(Yandere! Fox hybrid (gumiho) doctor x reader)

In your quaint village, not much occurs. Days are peaceful, if not a little boring. But you can’t really complain, not when the people around you are so lovely.

Your village helps each other, resources are always shared, and people are always taken care of. Among all your villagers, one of them, Dr. Shin, is especially kind. Despite being a new addition to your village, he’s loved by all the villagers. He’s often busy, too, as the only doctor around.  The previous doctor had passed away after falling to her demise in the woods while looking for herbs. Your village was both saddened and worried about the previous doctor’s sudden death, unsure of how you all would survive without medical care. Contrary to your worries, however, Dr. Shin suddenly appeared one day and from that point onwards, he’s become a valuable member of your village. He’s extremely personable and kind, making sure to make time for you – it’s no wonder he’s so beloved and trustworthy.

“Hello, Dr. Shin,” you greet him during one of your appointments. His fox ears flicker, which makes him rather cute despite him being much older than you. He often reminds you of the injured fox you had helped a few years back, especially when his bronze-colored ears move around.

“Ah, hello,” he greets back, a smile on his face. He motions for you to take a seat on the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think,” you respond, sitting down. Your fingers tap idly against your knee as you sink into thought. “I don’t think I get nightmares anymore…” 

“Oh? Then that’s quite good, isn’t it?”

“I… yes, I suppose.” Nervously, your eyes flicker downwards. It’s true that your nightmares have subsided, but they’ve been replaced with rather… inappropriate dreams about your doctor. But it isn’t like you can tell him that, especially when your dreams are so… realistic – like they’ve actually happened.

When you look back up, you can’t help but gasp at how intense his gaze is. “What troubles you?” he inquires, making your cheeks heat up.

“I… uhm, well…”

“Yes?”

At his expectant looks, you squeak out, “I’ve been having dreams that aren’t nightmares, really. But they’re… very intense, for a lack of a better word.”

Dr. Shin looks intrigued, leaning forward slightly. “Would you care to elaborate?” You shake your head, giving him a weak smile. “Ah, it’s nothing, really…”

“My dear,” Dr. Shin says, kindly, “I’m quite worried about you. Please, tell me.”

It’s too embarrassing to tell him – you just can’t. But the way he looks at you, his eyes glowing faintly… you can’t help but say, “I’m having sexual dreams,” despite your will. Gasping, you clamp your mouth shut.

“Oh?” he smiles, teeth glinting underneath the light. “I see, that’s quite normal.” Leaning back in his chair, he lets out a small hum. “But I suppose that it’s much more frequent and intense in your case, hm?”

You feel like you’re going to combust from embarrassment.

“Let’s see if I can assist you.” Dr. Shin pulls out his notebook and pen, ready to take a few notes. “Who is often present in these dreams of yours?”

You gulp, looking at him with wide eyes. He looks back at you, eyes glinting, leading you to say, “You.” Your mouth clamps shut – why did you say that?!

Regardless of your inner plight, Dr. Shin looks pleased, his smile getting wider. “Very good.” He notes a few things in his notebook, before snapping it shut and putting it away. The room dims as his eyes glow brighter, his grin toothy. “Don’t fret, my dear. There is quite an easy cure to your plight.” He approaches with soft – almost ghostly –  steps, before reaching out and tilting your chin. Nine tails – didn’t he only have one? – flicker out behind him as a chill runs through your body. “All you must do is stay by my side.”

After all, as the source of all your nightmares and dreams, he’s the only one who can cure you, too.

[solxamber]

Good morning/evening/ whenever you're reading this.

May I request Silver, Malleus, and Ace with someone who's like a sheep in wolfs clothing? Basically someone who seems intimidating and scary but is actually nice if that makes sense. Romantic or platonic is fine.

Malleus, Silver, Ace with a Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

hi! thank you for waiting, i hope this is what you wanted <3

Malleus Draconia

At first, Malleus is absolutely enchanted by the way you carry yourself. Your cool exterior, fierce glances, and aura of danger? He’s genuinely impressed. In his eyes, you’re practically royalty, strolling through campus with an air of mysterious authority that rivals his own.

But one evening, when the two of you are alone, he watches as you carefully kneel down to help a tiny creature—a shivering, injured bird, fallen from its nest. He’s speechless as you whisper gently to it, cooing softly as you tuck it into a makeshift cradle from your scarf.

“Ah, so even the fiercest can be kind,” he says, thoroughly charmed.

You look up, cheeks red. “What? No, I mean— I wasn’t… fierce,” you mutter, trying to explain away your rough side.

Malleus lets out a low chuckle, genuinely amused. “There’s no need to pretend with me, Child of Man. I find this side of you… endearing.” And with that, he offers his arm, as if escorting the most dignified person he’s ever met—like of course you’d be kind.

And every time he sees you after, he watches you just a little bit closer, hoping to catch more glimpses of the sweet, gentle heart beneath your “terrifying” façade.

Silver

Silver’s first impression? Oh, you were fierce, alright. With that intense stare and sharp wit, he thought you were the kind of person who could take on a horde of fire-breathing dragons without blinking.

But it doesn’t take him long to notice the little things: how you’re the first to offer help in a quiet, unassuming way. Or how you gave Grim half your lunch when he wouldn’t stop whining about his empty plate.

One day, he finally works up the courage to ask. “You’re… not like most people expect, are you?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Uh… how do you mean?”

He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You seem… gentle. Like someone who cares more than they show.” He says it simply, but with a warm smile.

“Oh! I—well, I guess…” You clear your throat, trying not to look too pleased. “Yeah, I try to be. Is that… weird?”

Silver chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Not at all. I think it’s admirable.” And with that, he goes back to his usual quiet self, though you notice he hangs around a bit more often, maybe just to keep an eye on you—or to be near you, enjoying the company of the sweetest “wolf” he’s ever met.

Ace Trappola

Ace was 100% convinced you were bad news when he first saw you. The way you stood, arms crossed and serious, maybe even a little cold, he thought for sure you were a total menace. So when he finds you one day, crouched down and helping a stray cat drink from a cup you’d brought, he actually does a double-take.

“You… feed stray animals?”

You look up, blushing furiously. “Uh… yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

He bursts out laughing, clapping his hands. “Oh man, and here I thought you’d, like, fight a cat if it came too close!”

You roll your eyes, trying to act annoyed, but you can’t help but laugh, too. “Yeah, yeah, real funny.”

After that, Ace doesn’t let you live it down. He’ll pull you along when he sees a lost animal just to watch you fuss over it, teasing you the whole time. “Oh no, don’t let the fearsome ‘tough guy’ break out the baby voice again!”

But despite the endless teasing, he genuinely loves seeing you drop the act and show your soft side. And even if he won’t say it out loud, he thinks it’s pretty awesome having a friend as kind—and surprisingly tender—as you.

Masterlist

[gednerbedner]

Copying an old reblog of mine here, cause I think it's real relevant right now:

My girlfriend has told me about how she used to be in some right-wing transphobic circles online in her younger years. She still feels guilty about it, though I try my best to remind her that she got better and that’s the important part. But she’s also pointed out that that guilt makes it all the harder to escape. When you try to be better and move away from the transphobia (or any other problematic viewpoint), and the people that you expected to excitedly welcome you just tell you that you’re not good enough and how dare you have messed up in the first place - well, it makes you question if changing your beliefs was worth it. If it’s not better to stay with the ones that at least will lift you up alongside them in exchange for helping them put someone else down. People are human. They make mistakes. Be proud of them for growing.

PS the stuff that came before my addition was also really good and it's not long you can read it here

I hate to break it to you, but love might actually be the way forward <3

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[dadvans]

i am just so sad right now. like going into s8 i didn’t think bucktommy would be endgame, but the way s8 started changed my mind, so to have them be literally so in love for 5 episodes straight just to have them break up in the most abrupt way?? it just feels so last minute which is shocking because in the interviews this was apparently a planned thing but it doesn’t feel like it at all. Like if this was a concern Tommy had why didn’t it come up at all? like little throwaway lines of Tommy making jokes of Buck getting sick of him or wanted to explore other options or whatever. I hope the backlash makes them rethink, and Tommy comes back but for now it doesn’t seem like it. I guess my only hope is that Buddie goes canon, but even then i won’t be able to really enjoy it. I seriously don’t know if i’ll be able to keep watching the show, not solely because they broke up, but because of how they broke up. (srry for the long ask, just needed to vent)

no apologies needed!

at the end of the day, so many of us found joy in their story, their chemistry, the way even up until the final second tommy admitted that what he wanted with buck was something that would inevitably break his heart.

they were good together. tommy fit into so many intimidating parts of buck's life with ease. tommy is (as far as we know) still good friends with buck's best friend! tommy loved him anyway, loved him warts and all, road shotgun to buck's worst fears and weirdest conspiracies.

at the end of the day, we have a few things:

we GOT them. we got to see them together, we got the soft looks, we got the kisses, the foundation of them that is real and canon in a way we could strike like a match against the edge of a box to light them up for real all over again. i don't think "being canon" gives any credence or superiority to a ship, and have shipped people or characters that have never interacted/existed together in a tangible way, simply because it's FUN. that's how i'll always have fun with ships and fandom, BUT! what a wonderful thing to celebrate that we DID have them, that we have this as a foundation for whatever comes next, that there is never a door permanently closed to them finding each other again when it was already real from the start

for a lot of us, this isn't how their story ends. it's insane that so much fic and content was produced for a canon ship like this. so often fandom is chasing down the what-ifs and never-hads. a lot of us invested in bucktommy because they had the compatibility, the fit, the chemistry, the potential. that's novel shit! that doesn't just evaporate because they broke up in canon. it certainly hurts. the kind of hype we were surfing will crash and sink back in the oncoming months, but i know talking to a lot of people tonight that we aren't done with this ship. we aren't ready to say goodbye.

i'm sad. i'm angry. i felt a real sense of queer euphoria whenever i saw them together, even for 30 seconds, teetering on the edge of this new couple joy learning each other into something new and weird and fun that always lingered as a promise on the edge of their interactions. i was so excited for who buck could become with tommy as his home base. shifting that has rocked me in a bad way.

i expect people to inevitably step away from this ship and this fandom, but i'll mention that non-canon ships like arthur/eames or mcshep or social network rpf or short-lived shows from 1996 (hi sentinel) have had long-lived fandoms and left long-lasting impressions in other fandoms that have lasted for over a decade of zero additional content. this is a playground that, just because they've parted ways for now, we don't have to stop playing in.

and i'll be honest: i have several WIPs i'm like, well trash that! after watching the most recent episode. but i also have a dozen new ideas. new ways they could fall in love now or again, new ways they could meet, new ways they could be for each other.

i'll keep creating. i'll keep dreaming. they won't ever not have the spark that they had. the show could end tomorrow but we'll always have an open door to believing and shaping the thousands of ways they can and will find each other again.

[akamitrani]

— Backstage Pass —

David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader (Pt.1?)

Warnings: Mild suggestive, flirting (and the massive amount of tension that comes with it), release of the tension, slow burn.

Summary: You manage to get backstage access to a Terrifier panel where David is present, you end up striking a conversation with him and one thing leads to another.

[A/N: Hi guys, this is my first ever published fanfic – Be kind ☠️ – Sorry if anything lol. Btw, I hope y'all like to read fr cuz this fanfic surely is for readers]

[ · · · ]

The low hum of the convention floor buzzed around you, but for the moment, it felt as though the world had quieted down. You stood backstage, just outside the makeshift white room where David was preparing for a panel at the horror convention. Your excitement of meeting the actor behind Art the Clown was palpable, it was the man himself – the warm, approachable, and genuine David

You had spent the better part of the day anxiously navigating your way through autograph lines, fan meet-and-greets and photo ops, but now, standing backstage, you had a rare chance to speak with him outside the chaos. You never expected an encounter like this but here you were, a quiet moment with the very man who had terrified and fascinated you all at once

David’s head peeked from behind the curtains, his bright blue eyes meeting yours – “Hey! You’re the one who was talking about makeup techniques earlier, right?” – his voice had a casual charm, free of any of the sinister vibes Art was known for

You nodded, a bit stunned that he’d even remembered you from earlier in the day – “I'm Y/N by the way... And yeah, I’m just starting to get into prosthetics, but I love how the horror community brings so many elements together”

He smiled, a grin that reached his eyes and softened the sharpness of his features – “Y/N. And oh I totally get that. There’s something about horror that feels like a puzzle, you know? Acting, makeup, lighting… everything needs to come together for the whole thing to work”

It felt like a small moment of mutual understanding, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to his enthusiasm. Here was David, the man behind the terrifying clown, speaking with such openness.

“So...” – David said after a beat, his tone playful – “what’s your favorite kind of horror?”

“It’s a toss-up but I’d say psychological horror, something that messes with your mind, makes you question what’s real” – You said

He nodded thoughtfully, his expression turning serious for a moment – “Yeah, that kind of horror is powerful. But I have to admit, sometimes I miss just making people jump... It’s a bit of a guilty pleasure for me”

You laughed loud, the sound echoing through the quiet backstage space – “I bet! It’s a great feeling though, knowing you can make people react like that”

David’s eyes lit up, a mischievous glint appearing – “Well... I think we’ve got some time for a little more talking, but it’s not going to be quieter once the panel starts, I'll eventually get busy... You’re sticking around, right?”

You hesitated, the pull of curiosity and excitement making you eager to continue the conversation – “Of course! After the panel, would you like to talk more? What about... Grabbing a drink?”

David raised an eyebrow, the playful smile tugging at his lips again – “Perfect, was just thinking the same thing. And I could definitely use a quiet moment away from the crowd... There's a nice café nearby, just behind the building”

You felt a jolt of anticipation. This was no longer just a fan encounter. The conversation had shifted from polite exchanges to something more personal, a subtle invitation hanging in the air

“Perfect!” – You replied, feeling your nerves melt away – “See you there then”

“I'll be there as soon as the panel is finished" – He replied

[ · · · ]

sorry but I don't have the patience

to write a 'in between' lol

You entered the café David mentioned about earlier, the ambiance was calm as expected. Dave was already there tucked in a corner booth, his eyes eventually meet yours and he sweetly waves at you. Walking in his direction you sat down, wasting no time to start chatting. David had his hands wrapped around his coffee mug, leaning slightly forward, completely engrossed in the story you were telling him

“And that’s when I realized..." – you laughed, glancing down in embarrassment – “I’d been talking to the director with fake blood still smeared all across my cheek!”

David chuckled – “You’d fit right in on a horror set with a story like that” – he said, tilting his head with that trademark playful smile – “Sounds like you were born for the genre”

You felt a warmth rise in your cheeks, not just from the flattery but from the way he looked at you — as if you two were the only people in the room. For someone who could be so chillingly silent in his role as Art, David had an openness and kindness that made you feel immediately at ease

Both of you shared another laugh, you noticed his fingers drumming gently against the ceramic cup, a little habit he seemed unaware of. The small, endearing detail felt so far removed from the menacing persona he played on screen. In that moment, you wondered how many people really got to see him this way, relaxed and unguarded

“So” – David said, breaking the silence – “I have to ask... why horror? Why would you willingly choose a field that involves blood, guts, and a thousand ways to terrify an audience?”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering an answer – “I think it’s the honesty of it... Horror doesn’t hide from what people fear. It embraces it. And creating that… It’s almost like a dance between knowing what scares people and making them feel safe enough to face it. It’s–”

“Powerful” David finished for you, a look of understanding in his eyes – “Yeah. I think I know what you mean” – he paused – “That’s exactly what draws me to it. There’s something about the way people’s walls come down when they’re scared. You can see who they really are”

Your eyes met with his, a silence settled between you and him, charged with something unspoken. You felt a flutter of nervous excitement, this was David Howard Thornton, a master of horror, sharing his personal thoughts with you as if you were an old friend

“Hey-” – David’s voice softened, breaking the tension – “I just realized how late it’s getting. But honestly…” – He glanced down, almost shyly, before looking back up with a small grin – “I don't want this conversation to end just yet”

You hadn't realized how much time had passed, you feel your heart skip – “Me neither...”

He hesitated, then gave a casual shrug – “I have a bottle of wine back at my hotel...” – he said with a hint of playful mischief – “If you’re up for it, we could keep talking there... No pressure though — I promise I’m far less terrifying off the set”

You both laughed, but you felt a thrill run through your body. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but the invitation in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, left little room for doubt

“Well...” – you said, mirroring his grin – “as long as you leave the clown mask behind”

David let out a low, warm chuckle and reached out, his hand brushing against yours just briefly – “Deal.”

[ · · · ]

at the hotel

The elevator doors slid open, then shut with a soft thud – the hum of the machine filled the otherwise quiet space between you both. David stood closer, his presence palpable as the two of you ascended to the upper floors. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the subtle hint of his musky cologne, the faint rustle of his clothes as he shifted slightly

The tension from the café was still there – unspoken, but thick. You could both feel it in the air, like an electric charge that had been building ever since the moment you'd first exchanged words. But now, in this small quiet space, it was almost impossible to ignore

David caught your eye, a soft smirk playing at the corner of his mouth – “I’m glad you agreed to come. It’s nice to get away from the madness for a bit you know”

You nodded but you could feel your heart rate picking up, the proximity between you and him making your thoughts scatter – “Yeah, it’s… really nice” – your voice sounded quieter than usual, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he is standing, how his shoulder brushed against yours every so often

The elevator dinged, signaling the arrival at David’s floor, you both stepped out. David led the way to his room, his long strides confident, though there was a subtle energy about him – something different than the actor you’d seen on stage. The man before them now seemed grounded, a little more vulnerable, but still just as captivating

As you two reached the door, David turned to you with a quiet smile – “Make yourself at home” – he said, pushing the door open and holding it for you to enter. The room was cozy, warmly lit

You stepped in, the scent of fresh linen and something faintly musky lingering in the air, his cologne you thought. You took a moment to glance around but David was already moving toward the small bar area by the window, pouring two glasses of wine

“Care for something?” – he asked, glancing over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eyes

“Sure, why not?” – You replied, voice a little breathless. It was hard to focus on anything other than the man before you, the way he moved, how effortlessly he carried himself. It was a strange mix of charm and allure, the kind of presence that seemed to draw people in without effort

David handed you the glass, his fingers brushing for just a second longer than necessary. His touch lingered, and you both looked up at the same time, locking eyes. There was something in his gaze – soft yet intense.

“Cheers” – he murmured lifting his own glass, clinking your drinks together

The conversation flowed easily at first, light and casual, but the air felt heavier now. David shifted slightly, moving a little closer as he leaned against the back of a chair, eyes never leaving yours. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite.

You set your drink down on the table, feeling a quiet tension building – “You know... I never thought I’d end up in a hotel room with someone like you”

David raised an eyebrow – “Someone like me?”

You laughed softly, a little nervous – “Yeah, someone so… different from Art”

David’s smile deepened, and he moved a fraction closer – “I think I’m a little more like Art than you realize” – he teased, there was a softness in his voice and a hint of something else, something that wasn’t just playful

“I don’t know…” – your voice faltering for a moment – “M-maybe you’re right”

David didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze darkened just slightly, his focus never wavering. He stepped a little closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the best way

“You know Y/N” he said quietly, almost a whisper – “I’m glad you stayed”

[···]

The silence between you both thickened, hanging in the air. David's gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as though he was considering something. Drawn to the warmth of his presence, you got closer. David didn't move away. Instead, he stood perfectly still, giving you space to decide what to do next. A quiet hunger in the way he looked at you.

“I dont want to rush this” – David said softly, voice low and deliberate – “But, I can't pretend I'm not completely drawn to you”

You reached up, fingers brushing against his arm, the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. David inhaled sharply, his body tensing just a bit at the contact.

“Are you sure?” – he whispered, his hand reached out, fingers barely grazing the edge of your wrist. You nodded, voice barely above a breath – “Yeah, I'm sure.”

David's hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb grazing the curve of your jaw – savoring every second. David's face was so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.

His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first. His hands slid down, pulling you closer. He grabs your waist hard and you accidentally let out a small moan... That's when he finally kisses you, letting out a low whimper himself. The kiss gets deeper, sucking and biting. You respond instinctively, fingers threading through his gray hair, drawing him in as the kiss became more urgent, more desperate.

You break the kiss for a moment to catch your breath, foreheads resting against each other and trying to collect yourselves. This had been building all night, ready to break.

“You're incredible” – David murmured, his voice thick with desire

You met his gaze – “I can say the same about you”

“I've wanted this all night” – He confessed

David's hands slid down your back, guiding you firmly towards him, towards his thighs. Now straddling him, your fingers tightened in his hair as his hands moved, exploring the curves of your waist, savoring every detail about it. His hands slid down your dress, up your thighs and finally resting on the hem of your panties... His eyes pledged for yours, for assurance – You nodded

“You're not going to regret this” he whispered

[angelwishess]

You have been invited to the Fairytale Soiree! ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔

Angel’s 100+ followers event!

a/n: Hi hi everyone! I’d like to thank everyone so, so so very much for 160 followers!! When I first started this blog about a month ago, I genuinely did NOT expect to get this much love and attention. It was such a surprise, but I’m so very thankful nonetheless! During my short time running this blog I have met so many wonderful, talented, charming, amazing people, and I appreciate all of you so much! Thank you once again for supporting me until now! ♡

Story:

Every 100 years, a group of fae gather together to host a grand party to celebrate the beginning of a new century. And tonight, once the clock hits 12 it will be the genesis of a new era once more. The stars seemed to shine brighter than usual on this evening, and magic swirled around as the faeries gathered to sing, dance, feast and party the night away.

But of course, there was one more thing they had to do. Every Soiree, the three hosting faeries summon a group of humans, beastmen and merfolk alike to join them on this joyous occasion! Once every one hundered years, it truly would be a waste not to share the joys of tonight.

It just so happened that this time, a group of students seem to be the ones that were chosen! Waking up in an unfamiliar palace-like building, lush with gorgeous flora and hues of pinks, blues and purples. Although skeptical at first, they soon joined the fae with their grand soiree.

That was, until they swiftly picked out Kyra from the crowd. Declaring her as the “Dreamer of Tonight”. They explained, that at the end of every soiree, just before the clock hits 12, all of the fae come together to grant one wish. Whether it be riches that overflow into mountains of gold, power beyond imagination, or knowledge of the unknown— whatever it is, they grant it. And it may even shape the course of the next century.

Kyra pondered this for a moment, sitting upon an elegant throne-like chair as she looked at the faces of all her friends. She frowned, and the faeries were curious. That was until she asked,

“Could I share my wish with my friends?”

Taken aback, the faeries asked why she wanted to do such a thing.

“Well… It just seems kind of unfair. They all deserve to have their wishes granted, too.”

An air of silence filled the room. Only to be broken by a rampaging laughter from all of the fae. They laughed, and laughed, until tears prickled in the corners of their eyes. No one had ever asked for something so ridiculous. The very first time anyone had asked for such a thing!

Amused, the fae agreed to let her share the wish— but with only one person. Now, its up to the rest of the group to decide whether they want to convince Kyra to share the wish with her, or simply just enjoy the party. But they better hurry up, because the clock is ticking! Either way, the faeries are expecting a good show out of tonight’s soiree.

Why, it might just be the most exciting one yet!

“Share this wish with me!”

Dress Code:

There isn’t a really stict dresscode— but of course the characters will all be wearing clothing suited for an extravagant ball!

And, if the name wasn’t obvious enough, this event is very Fairytale themed! So I suggest taking inspiration from fairytales! Whether it be characters, tropes, or items in the fairytale! Go crazy!!!

Theres not really a certain colorscheme either, Id rather you use the colors you think fit the characters you choose the most !!

Featured Characters:

Kyra Lovelace SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Floyd Leech SR (Fairytale Attire)

Ace Trappola SR (Fairytale Attire)

Vil Schoenheit SR (Fairytale Attire)

Azul Ashengrotto SR (Fairytale Attire)

Sebek Zigvolt R (Fairytale Attire)

Jamil Viper R (Fairytale Attire)

Jack Howl R (Fairytale Attire)

OCs:

Rory Queens SR (Fairytale Attire)

Shuu SR (Fairytale Attire)

Rayven Ludwig SR (Fairytale Attire)

Asher (Fairytale Attire)

AJ (Fairytale Attire)

Arlo Wake SR (Fairytale Attire)

RULES!!!:

- Despite this being a follower milestone event, everyone is welcome to participate! ♡

- You can use any kind of character to enter into the - event! OCs, Yuusonas, and canon characters that haven’t been listed in the participants! All characters are very much welcomed !!!

- Any kind of entry is also welcomed! Art, edits, fics, ect.

- Please tag me in your post and use the tag #Fairytale Soiree! In your posts!

Strictly no NSFW or proshipping.

There is no clear deadline nor winner, this is honestly just for fun so go crazy!!

Theres no real limit on the amount of SSR cards either, so feel free to do whatever you’d like, whether you choose to make an SSR, SR or R card !

Feel free to dm me if you have any questions :3

Once again, Thank you all so very much for supporting me thus far!! (Reblogs are appreciated :3)

[cerealmonster15]

[vibrating a little too fast] Do You Understand My Vision Yet

[tommykinard6]

This blog is here to stay. It will remain a Tommy Kinard and BuckTommy blog.

I’m pissed. I’m grieving. 9-1-1 is my favorite show and now they’ve pulled this shit.

If Lou had left the show because the death threats were too much, his mental health was suffering, or he just couldn’t take it anymore, I would absolutely understand. I’d blame a certain part of the fandom, but I’d respect his decision. But he didn’t even want this. He loves Tommy and Tevan. I don’t know what Tim is thinking.

I know it all feels like a waste right now, but it’s not. Let me recount really quick:

• Buck is bisexual.

• There have been some really important scenes to come out of his discovering his sexuality, including Josh’s speech and his own lesson in fighting for his relationship.

• Tommy Kinard will be a character you pry from my cold dead hands. A gay man who discovered himself late in life and is still living his life genuinely. A man who made mistakes and acknowledges them, but has grown far past them. What a wonderfully rounded character.

• Excepting the end of 806, the beauty of their relationship. They did so much with so little screen time.

It’s not a waste, even though the ending absolutely trashed the progress made.

Resolutely, I do not believe this is the end. I know, I know, “the interviews”. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that they’re misdirecting. Also, they haven’t even written the rest of the season yet. The storyline is fixable if there’s a make up.

Not telling anyone how to feel about Oliver’s comments, but I would caution about using TVline’s article as the Bible. It was a terribly written, heavily biased interview and frankly it’s an insult that it was even conducted.

Even if it is the end, no one has to stop shipping. No one has to leave the fandom. We did not lose. We still got our canon ship and it will forever be an irrevocable fact that it was canon. BuckTommy is endgame for me. I may be disappointed by expectations, but I will never be in the wrong for sticking by that.

Make your displeasure known to Tim and ABC, but do not lose your dignity doing so. Do not engage with the haters. No harassing Lou. You can hold Oliver accountable for his remarks, but no harassment of him. You can call him out without making him the fandom whipping boy. I’ve seen many people latching onto him as the outlet for their feelings on this. Do not harass or bully the writers or actors, but make sure the producers and showrunners know they fucked up.

And most importantly, look after yourselves and each other. We’re still a community and we’re here to stay. This week is one of the worst ever, but we will come out of it.

Thank you, Tommy Kinard, for the hope you gave us, the representation you presented, and the character you were. Thank you Lou for portraying such a character and being such a sweetheart. BuckTommy will forever be in our hearts, endgame or not.

As a reminder, BuckTommy is not the be all end all of the show for queer rep. Hen and Karen, our fabulous queens, and Josh will still always be there. Buck is still bi, no matter what’s next in store for him. Tommy, even if gone forever, is still a significant moment of gay rep. And that’s not even counting the small characters that come in and out. It’s not always done well, but it’s there.

[seeker-ophelia]

Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan

So there’s lots of discussion about Mythal and Solas, and we need to talk about it.

I too, at first, was mad that Lavellan wasn’t enough for Solas.

And then I started thinking about it.

Not only was Mythal his mother, his creator, she coaxed him into being. Into changing his spirit and his purpose.

Regret Number 1.

He let her use his knowledge and wisdom to do a terrible thing, to kill (tranquil) the titans, changing a whole race of people at a molecular magical level.

Regret Number 2.

When that choice created the worst power known to Thedas (the blight) he was responsible again. And Mythal asked him to step up and fight against it, and he did. And a lot of people died.

Regret 3.

Mythal DIED. (IMO The gods blighted her because she stood against them for wanting to use the blight but that’s not important here). And Solas blames himself.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her puppy. Her Emerald Knight. Her General. Her Protector. Her Wisdom. Her servant, her SLAVE. He is BOUND TO HER. And he caused her downfall.

And you’re all like, GEAS! GEAS!

But wait.

From HIS perspective.

Rook says something somewhere along the lines of like, by abstainsing from being the good guy (oh wait maybe it was Varric in the fade…)

By choosing to be the villain instead of the hero is he absolving himself of the guilt (regret) that comes from having to have made those choices.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her slave.

LOOK AT HIS BODY LANGUAGE.

He is a worm in the dirt in front of her. He is a scolded child, a puppy with his tail between his legs.

But in the eyes of Mythal, he was always her friend. The one person who had always stood by her. She did not literally entrap him, or bind him. It was all in Solas’ own head.

He refused to take accountability for his actions, only able to survive through the crushing weight of his own guilt by blaming it on servitude to Mythal.

That’s why Rook escaped the prison. Because she faced her own choices, choices with terrible consequences, and accepted them. Took responsibility for them, and promised to do better.

Remember, after the Temple of Mythal…

Solas…

You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elvhen god!

What does that mean exactly?

You are Mythal’s creature now, everything you do whether you know it or not will be for her. *** You have given up a part of yourself.

***THIS WAS NEVER TRUE. IT WAS NOT TRUE FOR FLEMYTHAL & MORRIGAN, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR ABELAS, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR SOLAS. HE JUST WANTED TO BELIVE THAT IT WAS.

…I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus. Which leads to the next logical question… What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?

The war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were. I’ll try to help this world move forward. **Lavellan is talking about the mage/templar conflict, but Solas is putting her in his own shoes. Solas reached for power he could not control and fucked the whole world up.

You would risk everything you have with the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was? **

**This is literally him asking her what she would do in his shoes. He woke up and the world was in chaos OF HIS MAKING. To prevent an evil HE CAUSED from spreading, he orchestrated the downfall of the people he loved and swore to protect.

I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.

Just like that?

*He is in shock that she can be so cavalier about the guilt that has rocked him for (4?) millennia.

If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.

*And this is the only thing that calms him down.

You’re right. Thank You.

For what?

You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor, you have… impressed me.

You have offered hope that is one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave… that someday, things will be better.

Then, of course, he takes this to mean that he needs to try to put The Evanuris in a different prison and take down the veil which isn’t at all what we meant sweetie but that’s okay get up and try again.

This is a classic case of a person in power not understanding the terrible, horrible consequences of unfettered power imbalances. Because Solas was always Friend to Mythal (Im not going into Freudian sex shit with you weirdos right now).

Solas was Mythals FRIEND.

Mythal was Solas’ EVERYTHING.

co·de·pend·en·cy

/ˌkōdəˈpend(ə)nsē/

noun

excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner,

His Mother, General, Creator, Protector, Queen, Goddess.

And he loved her so fiercely with every fiber of his new, physical being.

And he hated it.

And when Lavellan fell for him, and he for her, he was afraid.

Because he would never force a spirit against her purpose, and in his eyes the only way to love is the sick and twisted way he loved Mythal.

But again, from Mythal’s perspective, it wasn’t twisted. Solas was just Solas. And once again the powerful care not for the thoughts and opinions of those beneath them.

And that sin is on Mythal.

And that’s why she comes out and talks to Solas. Both aspects of her. To release him from the bonds that never existed. Be free, friend. You always were, but if you need me to say it I will because I love you.

“I pulled you from the fade and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.”

Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?

Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you. Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Be free.

“The things that I have done…”

“Are not for you to bear alone, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

And he COWERS before her. Shaking and shuddering. FNALLY being absolved of the guilt he’s carried since his inception.

“I release you from my service.”

And he SOBBS. At the RELIEF.

And Lavellan kneels before him (wrong, IMO because they should be equals but its fine)

And he can go back to his original purpose.

Not Pride.

Not Knowledge.

Not even Wisdom.

But Protection.   

“My life force now sustains the veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

The Shepherds Wolf. Protecting his flock from those who would do them harm.

And Lavellan promises it won’t be terrible, as long as they’re together.

And maybe Solas can try this different kind of love. A love built on respect, and trust, instead of fear, and obedience.

And he can be his purpose, Protection, and also be a man. And love his vhenan.

Because he is free.

[britcision]

I do also agree with OP, although I am gonna throw in a little reframing

TTRPGs and RPGs in general are games; they work based on chance and mechanics which tend not to change based on what would be narratively convenient, because the game doesn’t know what would be narratively convenient

(Notable exception: Abnimals, Travis McElroy’s game which explicitly includes a pool of My Time To Shine dice, which players can add to rolls they think are narratively important.

The dice still don’t care and will still dish you up all failures, but you do get to juice to improve your odds)

And what this means from a narrative perspective is that all the players and the GM need to be ready for big moments to go wrong. For the vital roll to fail, for the wrong character to get the last hit on a BBEG, for a dramatic and impassioned speech to fall flat

And that’s especially a challenge in a short campaign or series of oneshots, where you can’t necessarily just extend and expand the story until the Grand Finale is actually just a Big Character Moment

But it is still a big character moment

As the McElroy’s say… a failure is more interesting than a success

A failure adds free depth, free angst if you’re lucky!

Because… is anyone actually upset and unsatisfied if the story goes too well? If you succeed in a place where a failure might have been more exciting and dramatic?

The key is the kind of story the players (especially western players) are expecting to tell, and will find satisfying… because again, these are games

We go into them expecting or at least intending to win

This means various things for different games, you don’t play Call of Cthulhu for a happy feel good ending where everyone rolls off into the sunset, but you still want to win

It’s a lot more likely for people to feel it was a narratively satisfying story once they’ve gotten the end they wanted, even if some areas fell flat

And trust me, it’s something my players very much also struggle with; it feels bad when we fail something we wanted to succeed on. It feels worse if we built it up to be a big narrative moment… and it doesn’t work

But that is still a big narrative moment

If you’re going to play a game, where chance and mechanics decide the fate of all your dramatic moments, you need to be prepared to tell at least two stories:

- One where it all goes well

- One where it fails

(Maybe one more for a natural 20 equivalent and the stars quake at your passing)

It is hard to lean into failure, but when we do it… what would have been an unsatisfying ending is now just another twist. Free depth and character development, something to wallow in

And we know that those types of stories, even ones where everything goes wrong and the heroes lose, can be so very satisfying

Just look at the prevalence of whump and hurt-no-comfort on AO3

It’s normal and expected to feel bad and dissatisfied when the story doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, but it is your choice to leave that story as something unsatisfying and feeling bad about it

Every unexpected failure is another microwave to toss your blorbo in

Every moment that falls even a little flat is an opportunity for a genre-savvy quip, for a “well that just happened”, for someone to fall to their knees and scream and re-amp the tension

The key is in the player’s flexibility, not the game’s

Even if you are doing a short campaign… you can imply the rest. Let the story not be over, even if your time playing it is.

Let the beaten heroes be ground underfoot, crawl away from the dungeon, have to work and suffer but grit their teeth and know… so long as they’re alive, they can try again

They can have their revenge

(And then you can run the campaign again later, maybe with the same characters a level or two higher than you started last time, and thrive on the new dark and bitter story)

Or let your past characters be an inspiration, either for friends and loved ones who come to avenge them, or to the new heroes who heard their story and heard they failed, but that’s no reason not to try

Prev is also so right about a lot of modern dnd basically expecting the DM to tell a mildly interactive story live to passive players; it’s definitely one a lot of my players came in with, and it’s part of the problem

To tell a narratively satisfying story, you cannot just passively go along and expect the dice rolls to conform to your narrative

You need to actively engage, embrace the rolls as crossroads in the path of destiny, and be prepared to build the narrative no matter which path you take

You don’t go in expecting the right results at the right time to make a satisfying story; you go in knowing where the key moments will be, and what will happen if you succeed or fail

I have told my players several times, and I’ll tell y’all until I die:

I as the DM am not telling the story

I the DM have made the world, the NPCs, the background and setting of events

You the players are telling the stories of your characters, in that setting

There is an overarching plot that the party as a whole will also be telling the story of together… but not only are the players the ones who pick the theme music, you’re the ones who chose the main characters

There’s a reason a prefab campaign will be different for every group that plays it, even with the same GM

Even if you have no idea what’s coming next in the main storyline, you need to know what is coming next for your character

How you want them to grow, what you want them to learn - and then any unfortunate rolls aren’t a let down or a problem, it’s an opportunity.

Sakura has to learn something important about herself and others before she can ever collect a card - which means something usually goes wrong

She tries and fails, and then looks at that failure and learns from it and grows as a person, and that’s what makes the narrative satisfying

Sticking your feet in and sulking if the game mechanics don’t follow the narrative you want will make an unsatisfying story no matter what game you play

Gleefully and enthusiastically stuffing your blorbo into the blender of fate, hitting Purée, and turning every stumble off the narrative path into its own adventure will give you a much deeper, more compelling, more complete story than you might have expected…

But that’s the fun part

The truest mechanism of an RPG or TTRPG has nothing to do what is written into the rules of the game

It’s your own skill at improv, and if you’ve ever been even remotely stage shy, avoided drama class, or thought improv was hard, let me reassure you:

Improv comedy is not the only improv. You don’t have to be funny

And it’s a lot easier than you might think

So long as you know your character, actually really know them beyond the backstory you created… so long as you take the time to think “well what do they do when things go wrong? What would they give to get what they want? What would it take to force them to do the things they’d never do?”

You can bullshit through basically any situation

Because there’s no rule against playing ahead in your mind

Daydream your character into any situation you think might come up, write the fanfiction version of the perfect narrative in your head, and then do the tragic version. Do the slapstick version. The gritty noire version

Because the greatest secret of improv and playing your own character is that you will never be wrong

Only you define success or failure

So long as you know and understand your characters and can be flexible with the mechanics and the story, you can always build a satisfying narrative

This is a lot more work than just being reactive and expecting the GM to tell a story for you, and just rolling dice and “hit big monster” when prompted

That’s what makes the story actually satisfying though; taking ownership of it yourself

The game belongs to the designers

The story belongs to the players, GM and PC alike

There's this idea floating around the general TTRPG space that's kind of hard to put one's finger on which I think is best articulated as "the purpose of an RPG is to produce a conventionally shaped satisfying narrative," and in this context I mean RPG as not just the game as it exists in the book but the act of play itself.

And this isn't exactly a new thing: since time immemorial people have tried to force TTRPGs to produce traditional narratives for them, often to be disappointed. I also feel this was behind a lot of the discussion that emerged from the Forge and that informed the first "narrativist" RPGs (I'm only using the word here as a shorthand: I don't think the GNS taxonomy is very useful as more than a shibboleth): that at least for some TTRPGs the creation of a story was the primary goal (heck, some of them even called themselves Storytelling games), but since those games when played as written actually ended up resisting narrative convention they were on some level dysfunctional for that purpose.

There's some truth to this but also a lot of nuance: when you get down to the roots of the hobby, the purpose of a game of D&D wasn't the production of a narrative. It was to imagine a guy and put that guy in situations, as primarily a game that challenged the player. The production of a narrative was secondary and entirely emergent.

But in the eighties you basically get the first generation of players without the background from wargames, whose impressions of RPGs aren't colored by the assumption that "it's kind of like a wargame but you only control one guy." And you start getting lots of RPGs, some of which specifically try to model specific types of stories. But because the medium is still new the tools used to achieve those stories are sometimes inelegant (even though people see the potential for telling lots of stories using the medium, they are still largely letting their designs be informed by the "wargame where you only control one guy" types of game) and players and designers alike start to realize that these systems need a bit of help to nudge the games in the direction of a satisfying narrative. Games start having lots of advice not only from the point of view of the administrative point of view of refereeing a game, but also from the point of view of treating the GM as a storyteller whose purpose is to sometimes give the rules a bit of a nudge to make the story go a certain way. What you ultimately get is Vampire: the Masquerade, which while a paradigm shift for its time is still ultimately a D&D ass game that wants to be used for the sake of telling a conventional narrative, so you get a lot of explicit advice to ignore the systems when they don't produce a satisfying story.

Anyway, the point is that in some games the production of a satisfying narrative isn't a primary design goal even when the game itself tries to portray itself as such.

But what you also get is this idea that since the production of a satisfying narrative is seen as the goal of these games (even though it isn't necessarily so), if a game (as in the act of play) doesn't produce a satisfying narrative, then the game itself must be somehow dysfunctional.

A lot of people are willing to blame this on players: the GM isn't doing enough work, a good GM can tell a good story with any system, your players aren't engaging with the game properly, your players are bad if they don't see the point in telling a greater story. When the real culprit might actually be the game system itself, or rather a misalignment between the group's desired fiction and the type of fiction that the game produces. And when players end up misidentifying what is actually an issue their group has with the system as a player issue, you end up with unhappy players fighting against the type of narrative the game itself wants to tell.

I don't think an RPG is dysfunctional even if it doesn't produce a conventionally shaped, satisfying narrative, because while I do think the act of play inevitably ends up creating an emergent narrative, that emergent narrative conforming to conventions of storytelling isn't always the primary goal of play. Conversely, a game whose systems have been built to facilitate the production of a narrative that conforms to conventions of storytelling or emulates some genre well is also hella good. But regardless, there's a lot to be said for playing games the way the games themselves present themselves as.

Your traditional challenge-based dungeon game might not produce a conventionally satisfying narrative and that's okay and it's not your or any of your players' fault. The production of a conventionally satisfying narrative as an emergent function of play was never a design goal when that challenge-based dungeon game was being made.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Pull the Thread

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so… ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn’t seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky’s nurse whenever he gets hurt. Based off my mini fic here.

Warnings: mentions of child death

Stitched Together | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

When you wake the next morning, Bucky and Sam are gone. Their sleeping areas are made up and a note is left on your kitchen counter.

Thanks again.

See you around.

-B

PS. call me if you ever need anything

Beside it is a cup of coffee and a stack of bills. You count it out and chuckle in disbelief. Bucky left you two hundred dollars for helping him out.

You grab your phone and type in Bucky's number. You insert a picture of the money along with the text:

You: you didn't have to pay me.

Bucky: I wanted to. For disturbing your night and for your work.

You: It's fine, but thanks anyway.

Bucky: Hope you have a good day, sweetheart. :)

You pause. Sweetheart. You can't help the way your heart beats a little faster when you read that word. He used to call you that when you two were dating. It was never "babe" or "honey". Always "sweetheart".

You feel conflicted. You want to scold him for calling you that...but you also really miss being called that by him.

You decide to not respond back at all, since you still need to eat before you head into work.

_____________

Bucky shows up at your place again a few nights later. This time, he's alone and with a bullet graze on his side.

You frown at him as you let him into your apartment, "Is this going to be a habit of yours?"

He snorts, "You think I purposely get hurt just to come and see you?"

You shrug, "I don't know, Buck! We don't really know each other anymore, so I'm not sure what you'd do!" you snap at him. He looks at you with surprise and you sigh, "Sorry. It's been a long day and I wasn't expecting you."

"I can go. I'll-I can find someone else to help me."

"No. You're here already. Might as well get it over with." You gesture to the couch and he sits down as he waits for you to come back with your first aid kit.

Bucky starts to rethink things. It's true that he didn't purposefully get shot at so he can see you. But he definitely didn't hesitate to start heading to your place as soon as things were handled. He just misses you.

You come back with gloves on. You have Bucky take off his shirt so you can fully assess the wound. Just a bullet graze. He lays on his other side as you clean his wound.

Again, you work in silence. You're focused on getting this done quickly and efficiently so you can go to sleep.

As you dress his wound, you say, "You should get some antibiotics or pain relievers so it doesn't get infected or if the pain becomes too much. Change the dressing often. Make sure there's minimal movement."

He nods, "Alright. I can do that."

You help him sit up and pull his shirt back on.

Once he's dressed, Bucky looks up at you, "Maybe you and I could make an arrangement."

You look at him with a cocked brow and he stammers “Not that kind of arrangement! Business! Strict-Strictly business. You take care of me and my people when we get hurt. I pay you for your efforts and we’re out of your hair until the next time.”

"...I don't know, Bucky."

"We'll be discreet. I promise. I'll make sure everyone knows not to blab about you and to only come if it's an absolute emergency."

"I'm sure you can find an actual doctor or something to help you. Why me?"

"Because I trust you."

"Bucky, my dad is the chief of police. You shouldn't trust me."

"I know you wouldn't tell your dad. Because despite how long it's been, I still know you care about me."

You cross your arms over your chest and look at him defensively, "And how do you know that?"

He gives you a cocky grin, "Because you wouldn't have helped me that first night."

"I was doing my civic duty. I'm in the healthcare field. It's my job to help people no matter where they come from."

"Okay. Fine. All I'm saying is that you do good work and I don't want anyone else fixing me and my guys up, but you. And, of course," he pauses to pull out his money clip, picking out a few hundred dollar bills. He holds it out to you, waiting.

You weigh out your options and then take the money. You agree, because, despite what your father tells you and how Bucky treated you in the past, a part of you still loves him and will always love him.

"Alright. I'll do it. Just let me know when you're coming just so I'm not surprised every time there's a knock at my door."

"Will do," he mumbles, grunting as he stands to his feet, "Get some rest. I'm sorry you had a shitty day."

"It-It's fine. I just-" you pause and start feeling choked up. You let out a sob and you lean forward, burying your face into Bucky's shirt.

His arms immediately wrap around you in a protective, comforting hug, "I got you, sweetheart. It's okay. Let it out." His heart breaks when he hears your muffled cries.

"We lost a patient today. He had cancer. He was only eleven," you mumbled into Bucky.

His arms around you tighten, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. That's heartbreaking. But I'm sure you did everything you could to make sure his last moments were good, right?"

You slowly nod and step away from him. You wipe at your eyes, "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Y/N. Cry on me whenever you like," he gives you a soft smile, "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I've just been keeping that in all day. Thanks, Bucky."

"No problem. You're a great nurse, Y/N. I just know that those kids are lucky to have you take care of them. I know I am." He kisses your forehead, "'Til next time." He murmurs before heading to the door.

"Hopefully, not any time soon."

He shoots you a grin, "No promises." With a wink, he's out the door. You go over and lock it in place. You lean against it and let out a long sigh. Your heart is beating fast again.

_________________________

It's one of those nights where you dad comes over after a shift and you two have dinner. Neither of you felt like cooking, so you ordered takeout instead. You eat out of the styrofoam containers at your small dining table, pausing in-between bites to chat.

"Work's been okay?" your dad asks before shoveling food into his mouth.

You swallow your food, washing it down with water, "Yeah. We lost a patient earlier this week and I-I can't seem to shake it."

Your dad nods in understanding, "I get it. It's never easy and it never gets easy. And you can't even do anything but continue working after it happens. You gotta push through it. In our line of work, it's important to care for others, but also important to care for yourself too. Got that, bug?"

"I know, dad. Thanks. What about you? You said earlier that work's been super stressful lately?"

Your dad gives an exhausted sigh and leans back in his chair, "Yeah. Been working closely with different units. For years there's been word that the Barnes Family has been the head of several crime operations happening around the city. They've been good about keeping their tracks covered, but since George Barnes' passing, I'm hoping to see his son slip up." Your dad gives a disappointed shake of his head, "Still can't believe you were friends and dated his son."

"He wasn't a bad kid, dad."

"Yeah, up until he started being a prick to you. Good thing you broke things off with him when you did."

You slowly nod, "Yeah. Good thing."

___________________________

You hadn't seen Bucky for two weeks, but he'd been texting you here and there during that time.

He sent you pictures of dogs he'd seen while out and about, would ask about your dad, even ordered food for you when you said you were too tired to eat. It was really sweet and kind of him, but you couldn't help but still have your reservations about Bucky.

Did your heart skip a beat every time you received a message from him? Absolutely. But were you still anticipating on the day he'd turn around on you again? Yup.

You kept things friendly, but also not too friendly. You didn't indulge in anything too personal or detailed. For all you knew, Bucky could be using you to get information about what your dad had on him. As much as you wanted to think Bucky wouldn't do that, you had to keep yourself accountable and aware.

[dalishious]

Veilguard Companion First Impressions

So, I’ve finally recruited all the companions for the Veilguard! And as such, I thought I’d share my initial thoughts on them each.

Please keep in mind that as the title says, these are just my first impressions. I am nowhere near finishing the game yet. My thoughts very well may change after getting to know the characters more as the story progresses. Also, please do not take any opinions you do not share as a personal attack against you.

Bellara

Bellara might be my #1 favourite.

I’ve seen some people just say Bellara is “a Merrill rip-off” but I don’t think that’s fair at all. If all it took was a few similarities to say a character is a rip-off of another character, than I can think of so many boring white cishet male characters who would be guilty of that. But heaven forbid we get more than one elven woman who is passionate about her people’s culture and history!

Frankly, I think Bellara is a breath of fresh air in terms of Dalish characters specifically. Finally, a Dalish elf who isn’t punished for being proudly Dalish by the narrative.

I also really appreciate that so much of her can be easily understood by her backstory, too. Like, her feelings of never being good enough is reflective of the very realistic grief she is experiencing.

Lucanis

If Bellara isn’t my #1 favourite, then Lucanis is. They really both dominate that spot neck in neck. I can’t decide if I want to put him in a jar and shake it to see what happens, or wrap him up tight in a quilt and give him some good coffee.

I’m just a sucker for Lucanis’s character archetype, is the thing. I love taking him out simply because he’s so much fun to have around. And in terms of companion arcs, his is the one I am most intrigued to see where it goes.

Taash

(While I haven’t personally gotten to Taash’s non-binary plot yet, I am aware Taash switches to they/them pronouns, so that’s what I’ll be using.)

The moment I met Taash felt my heart skip a beat. The only thing hotter than their appearance is their voice. I know BioWare probably left Taash out of a lot of the advertising because they wanted to keep Taash’s gender stuff a surprise, but oh my god, because of this I was taken by quite the surprise. And so far Taash seems to be the type to keep a hard outer shell to protect a much softer side, and that is yet another character archetype I really love.

Davrin

My initial gripe about Davrin’s writing being so exclusively about Assan rather than Davrin himself is slowly peeling away, I hope. While I still think its bullshit that you can welcome Assan into the Veilgaurd but not Davrin, at least I’ve finally gotten a few bits of dialogue to get to know more about him finally. I just want to keep this momentum! Because Davrin as a concept has so much potential, in my opinion, and what little bits I have gotten from him have captivated me. But I can’t tell yet if it’s intentionally part of his character that maybe he’s just a closed off person who takes a while to trust others, (a little like Taash?) Or if the writer just cared more about griffons than the actual guy. I’m really, really holding out hope for the former.

Emmrich

Emmrich is so much more charming than I expected, and I found him instantly endearing the moment we met him. I also really like that we’re finally hearing some different stances and insight on death and necromancy than we ever had before from a companion! It makes him feel so fresh and completely new!

Harding

I’ll be real with you: I was not anticipating caring about Harding so much. She was who I was originally least interested in, when the companion line-up was announced. But the direction they’re taking her in has me questioning so much about bigger lore questions.

Unfortunately, I still don’t see much in her except being a vessel for those bigger lore questions, though. Like, Harding as a person has me mildly curious at best.

Neve

I’m really sorry Neve fans, but I just find her really boring so far, in comparison to everyone else. She doesn’t have a lot going on, and what she does have going on, doesn’t really captivate me much. Maybe I was just hoping she’d have stronger stances on things than she does? I don’t know.

It could be that I just really fucked up with Neve, and it won’t be until another playthrough that I’ll get to experience more that will change my mind. Because I will admit I am very good at picking choices she disapproves of, with my first Rook.