#i'm so unbelievably hooked on this game

[smanfa]

the hunt is on...

[smoshyourheadin]

Can you do smut w Isaac where you guys are home alone in the house and idk getting at it ig🤷‍♀️ and then the rest of the guys get home and are scarred for the rest of their lives???

on our couch

pairing: isaacwhy x f!reader

a/n: FIRST SMUT FIC ALERT NEENOR NEENOR but fr i’m sorry if this sucks lmaooo // 18+ please thank youuuuu <3

warnings: smut!! oral sex, submissive reader, isaac is a meanie, orgasm denial/edging, praise, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it guys!!), general smut things, yumi is a negative nancy

what started as a friendly game of mario kart whilst the boys were out, very quickly devolved into an insult-throwing, competitive game of life and death. had isaac known you were so adept at the game maybe he would have prepared himself, or even suggested a completely different game.

"wow, what a bitch you are," he grumbled monotonously, gone past the point of anger as he watched another green shell appear on his screen and overturn his digital avatar. isaac pinched at the bridge of his nose with an exasperated huff, "this isn't even fun anymore, you're just being an annoying little fuckwit." throwing his controller down out of spite and onto the couch completely abandoning the match, he stood himself up with a groan. hastily pausing the match with an agape mouth, slightly disappointed that he didn't want to play all the way through, "come on, you still have a chance to win," you claimed as you stifled your laughter, trying to entice him to sit back down and be throttled with another shell you had loaded in your arsenal.

"no, i've had enough," the overgrown child retorted before sipping down the remnants of whatever flavour of gamersupps that had been sitting on the coffee table undisturbed for a few hours due to sheer concentration and determination to win a match on his behalf. letting out a displeased grumble, you turned off the game and relaxed back into the couch as he turned to look down at you with an aggravated still expression. "oh stop being such a sore loser," you scolded him with a raised eyebrow. admittedly his immature outbursts over the past few games had become grating as opposed to the amusing back-and-forth jabbing at each other that took place beforehand.

"i'm not being a sore loser, i just don't want to play with someone who is being such a fucking asshole." he stated adamantly, his anger refusing to settle and he refusing to admit that he was wrong, which was usually the case anyway.

"you're just being a whiny little bitch because you didn't get what you wanted," you admitted with a pause, "you just wanted to win so you could rub it in my face." in all honesty, you were really expecting him to retort back with another childish accusatory insult before he stormed off to calm himself down, but his expression remained and he stared vacantly at you as you could almost see the cogs turning inside of his head, and possibly cartoon-like steam expelling from his ears. "is that right?" he asked calmly, though you could still see his eyes burning with annoyance.

gently nodding your head with a simple hum, not knowing what you were getting yourself in for as he had never really had this demeanour before, but you had a feeling it was worth the risk. isaac silently mouthed the word wow, raising his eyebrows and emulating the shock and disapproval you were expecting but realistically he had you hook, line, and sinker. he wanted you to bite back.

hee lowered himself down onto the couch, his gaze shifting from your top to bottom as he took you all in. despite the silence, it was unbelievably tense in the room in the best way possible. the unpredictability of his next move was kind of pulse-raising, yet alluring. overstated, almost as if you were flirting with death.

his fingers ardently dug into the waistband of your pj pants as he tugged them fervently down past your knees, along with your underwear, past your ankles before aimlessly discarding them to the floor. a light shiver consumed your entire body as the cold air hit your bare skin. still, without saying an entire word, he sank himself fully. his large hands grasped eagerly at your thighs, pulling you effortlessly in one motion so you were as close as he needed you to be. isaac’s soft lips pressed against your pulsing clit, and as he did so you could feel his light stubble grazing the inside of your thighs. his tongue was gentle at first, his lips did most of the work. pursing his lips on your clit as he excitedly sucked and occasionally used his teeth to delicately brush against it.

isaac’s fingers would occasionally tighten around your thighs, his fingers and cold rings pressing into your tender skin only indicating his arousal. eventually, his tongue hesitantly caressed your sensitive node, making laps around it before skimming it once more. satisfied hums left your mouth, hands buried in his long brown curls. you could feel him smile as he spurted out his hot breath amused by his actions and how you were now like putty in his hands. he continued to suck and lick as if he was parched and on the brink of death. his eyes would remain shut but he would periodically look up at you to see your flushed face, tightly shut eyes and pursed lips. you were only getting more vocal by the minute as he continued to hit all the right spots before abruptly pulling away without warning. lustfully, he licked his lips and revelled in the contorted expression you attempted to conceal.

"fuck, m’close," you uttered as you attempted to regulate your breathing. isaac nodded proudly with a wicked and playful smile, "yeah i know," he added cockily. his hands caressed your legs and everywhere but where you wanted him to be touching; tingles shooting through every part of your nervous system as his gentle fingertips glided against your skin. "please," you weakly attempted to beg for him which you only knew was going to fail. and you were right.

"no, i’m not going to let you cum," he continued to smile devilishly, "you are however going to be a good little girl and shut up, and take my cock." doe-eyed, you obediently nodded as he began to undress. impatiently, he removed his top half and neglected it just as quickly as he did with your sweatpants. isaac’s erection wasn't concealed very well; the grey sweatpants only amplified its outline and whenever he would move you could see it slightly move beneath the fabric as you now realise he wasn't wearing any underwear. he noticed that you were looking and only wanted to tease you further. grabbing his stiff cock over his shorts, he began to rub it up and down leisurely so you could get a clear visualisation of his entire length.

swiftly pulling down his sweatpants, his erection bounced up and tapped up against his abdomen before bobbing for a short amount of time. using his hand, he caressed his cock again, using his thumb to wipe the pre-cum that was beginning to dribble from his tip. “now come and put your whore mouth to good use,” he demanded, continuing to massage his length.

adjusting yourself with your knees on the floor and his lap in front of you, his cock twitched as you held it up to your face - its span was almost equal the size of your head. looking down at you through his brows, his eyes burned with desire. he couldn’t wait to hear you choking on his cock.

wrapping your lips over the tip, you grabbed his shaft. delicate kisses and timid licks to ease him into it. lowering your mouth onto his hard dick, you let your tongue do most of the work, hands gripping onto his muscular thighs

isaac used one hand to twirl your hair into his grasp and would occasionally push it down to hear you gag on his cock. “what a good little slut, taking it all just like i asked,” he cooed. continuing to let out low and breathy groans, you came up to give your jaw a bit of a break. a string of saliva attached the head of his cock to your pursed and drenched lips.

after giving you a few generous seconds to recompose yourself, isaac pushed your head down onto his cock once more, thrusting his length into your mouth as he facefucked you. the occasional gag would cause him to let out a more satisfied groan. “mmhmm, i just love using your mouth baby,” he lulled, pulling your head back to look at your face. now, his face was more of a crimson tinge than it was prior, his hair sodden with sweat and his intense lustrous stare more piercing than before.

isaac stood himself up and bent you over the arm of the couch, slapping his now very erect cock on your ass. his hands couldn’t get enough of your curves as he squeezed and grasped your hips and waist. “behave and don’t make a noise, otherwise i’m going to stop,” he demanded, “and i know how much you want me inside of you so i suggest you listen,” he continued, peering down at your entrance which was practically dripping at this point. he used one hand to grasp your waist and the other to aid him in guiding himself towards your entrance.

he wasn’t being gentle this time, he drove himself inside of you knowing you were bound to squeal or make any sort of noise but your hand was firmly placed over your mouth which managed to mute most of it, he would give you the benefit of the doubt this time. “you’re such a good little slut letting me use you like a toy,” he murmured, continuing to go deep at a slow pace. he was cupping your ass in his hands as he watched himself slide inside you, cock glistening with your wetness. gaining speed and momentum, he was only making it harder for you to contain your moans.

slipping up as you were getting closer to your climax, you let an audible whimper leave your mouth before isaac tutted and retracted his length from you. “i thought i told you to behave, hmm?” he murmured. a long chain of apologies left your lips before you pleaded and begged for him to let you cum all over his shaft and how much you wanted his cock inside of you.

“now who’s being the whiny little bitch who’s not getting what she wanted hmm?” he amusedly hummed to himself, stroking his cock as he pressed his tip up to your entrance, painfully teasing you. “does my little princess not like being edged?” he softly ribbed in your ear as he leaned over and rested his defined chest on your back, using one hand to snake up your shirt and play with your nipples.

“if you apologise for earlier i’ll reconsider letting you finish, you just have to be a good girl for me,” he offered, his hands groping at your chest before unhurriedly entering you as he couldn’t resist himself.

“m’sorry,” you managed to apologise breathily, “didn’t mean to misbehave,” you feel him squeeze your ass. “please let me cum for you isaac.”

he was now planting delicate kisses all along your neck, “i didn’t hear that baby can you say that again,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting the side of your face before presenting you with more tender kisses. isaac liked being dominant but at the same time he couldn’t keep up the persona because the moment you became a begging little mess, tears staining your face and utterly aching for him, he couldn’t help but cave in. he was a very soft and generous lover and pleasing you turned him on just as much, if not more than dominating you would.

“please,” you were practically whining at this point “i didn’t mean to misbehave, i know better, just fuckin’ fill me with your cock, need it s’bad,” you pleaded with him, eyes shut as you tried to relish the painfully slow strokes. “i know you are princess, i just wanted to hear you say it again,” he smirked, as he began to pick up the pace once more. your pleased moans were music to his ears as he grabbed your waist, thrusting himself as deeply as possible so he could hit your sweet spot, and only within a few minutes were you about to reach your climax again. “mhmm that’s it, cum for me baby, you’ve been a good girl you deserve it,” he affirmed you. tightening around his cock, your body rid itself of all tension and began to slump into the cushions of the couch, all energy drained.

not too long after could you feel him twitch, his grasp on your waist tightened and his momentum and speed erratic as breathy moans escaped his lips. there was a brief pause as you both regained your breath. you were still recovering from the intensity of the orgasm before you joked “you’re more than welcome to lose another game of mario kart whenever you want, holy fuck.”

just then, the front door creaked open. panic set in, but it was too late to re-dress yourself. the sound of voices echoed through the hallway, growing louder as the approached the living room.

the next moments were a blur. shocked gasps, muttered curses, and the sound of footsteps scrambling away filled the room. you and isaac froze, faces burning with embarrassment as the realization of what had just happened sunk in.

for a moment, silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. then, a voice broke through the tension, tinged with a mixture of horror and amusement.

"oh my god, dude! seriously? on our couch?" yumi yelled, covering his eyes.

you quickly grabbed whatever clothing you could find, hastily covering yourselves up as the guys' groans echoed through the house. isaac's face was a deep shade of red, but you couldn't help but giggle despite the situation.

"guess we gave them a show," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

you nodded, still trying to catch you breath. "one they won't forget anytime soon."

as we finished getting dressed, we could hear the guys still talking about what they'd just witnessed, their voices carrying a mix of teasing and genuine shock. you exchanged a look, a silent agreement to never live this down, but also a shared understanding that, despite the embarrassment, it was a moment neither of you would trade for anything.

isaac smiled a bit as he walked you to the downstairs bathroom, hand on the small of your back. “let’s clean you up then princess.”

[ronearoundblindly]

"K" for jake jensen pls? 🥺👉👈

- @buckymorelikefuckme ♥️♥️♥️

Awwww, yissssss.

From this dirty ask game which has fully consumed me for two days and I'm not mad about it. Generally not suitable for kids or people with morals or those fond of grammatical standards. MINORS DNI.

K - Kissing

Whoa. Babe. He's into it. He's into it all.

There are a bunch of places that will make Jake giggle when you kiss him there. His love-handles are ticklish, he goes kinda nuts around his neck (in a good way since he blushes every time without fail), and his whole body will start to shake if you show enough attention to his inner thighs. That's the fucking best though because blowjobs are the most exquisite torture for this man. If you so much as mention that you're thinking about going down on him, his leg starts bouncing. Won't stop. He needs it.

On you, particularly? Everywhere. The back of your neck at the hairline is a personal fave. He could either be giving you a lovely hug or giving it to you fast, deep, and dirty from behind. Great options. Why not both?

He also kisses and nips at your hip, right on the juncture of your thigh and mound while he finger-fucks you. It's particularly unbelievable when he's doing it to avoid sucking on your clit so that you'll beg. Gah! What're you supposed to do to train this man?? Tease.

Now: marking.

He plays up how much it hurts when you do give him a hickey, but that's just at the moment it happens. He waited too long as an awkward nerd to not proudly display that he has sex. You hear that world? Jake Jensen has SEX. Lots of it. And his Smee even says HE'S GOOD AT IT!

So there.

Thank you for asking!

A/n: omg did I just make Pirate Jake into Captain Hook and then hc that he names you after his literal FIRST MATE??? Wow. Wow. No more bourbon and lemonade for Ro. Woof.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 35

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 34

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, mentions of smut, smoking, alcohol use, drunk driving, small argument, crying, angst, heartbreak

Word Count: 7.7k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 35: Wicked Game

Sunday, September 24th, 1989

"Sugarpuff? It's Eddie on the phone again." Mom says through your bedroom door on Sunday morning.

"Just hang up." You manage to say, just loud enough for her to hear. The sound of her footsteps descends back down the hallway, and the phone is placed on the hook without another word. You let out a long sigh, oddly relieved to know Eddie can't get another syllable out.

You haven't slept a wink all night, constantly tossing and turning in your bed while thoughts race through your mind. Thoughts of Eddie's lips on Chrissy's, of how angry and heartbroken it made you feel. Still makes you feel. Every time that image flashes across your mind, you get the intense urge to scream into your pillow. An urge you've entertained a few times, once you were sure it wouldn't make too much noise.

Eddie's called three times in the last couple of hours, all of which you've ignored in one way or another. The first time served as an alarm clock for your mother, forcing her out of bed. You knew exactly who was calling so early, not bothering to move a muscle. You can picture the scene back at the apartment. Eddie, disheveled and sweating in his clothes from the party, having cried all night over you. Broken glass and spilled wine still lay on the floor, as he can't focus on cleaning up any other mess than the one he's made by lying to you. Arwen is no doubt snuggled in his lap as he cradles the phone, frantically dialing your number over and over, before changing his mind.

"I'm making omelets, Y/N. Do you want me to make you one?" Mom asks through the door, still leaving you alone to your thoughts.

"Okay." You call back, forcing the volume despite your vocal chords begging you not to. You feel absolutely awful from lack of sleep, and too much wine, and all this damn crying you can't seem to stop doing. You roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling. If it weren't for your heart being shattered into a million tiny pieces, you'd probably feel completely numb right now. But you swear you can sense the shards worming their way through your chest, lodging in your ribs and muscles on their way out. Everything hurts. You spend so much time fixating on the pain, that you don't even register the next twenty minutes passing until Mom brings you your breakfast.

"It's hot and ready, sweetie." She says, knocking first before opening the door. She brings in a tray to set on your lap, and you take the cue to sit up against the headboard. You keep the blanket tucked beneath your underarms to cover yourself, avoiding her eyes for the time being. "Here you go. Do you need anything else?" She asks sweetly, though the unbelievably blank look on your face quickly sours her on the inside.

"No. Thanks, Mom." You rasp, reaching for the glass of orange juice she's brought you to wet your mouth that feels like sandpaper.

"Okay. Well, just let me know. And I left the phone off the hook. That ought to stop the calls for a while." Mom says, going for the door. You just nod at her words, glancing down at your plate.

Bright yellow egg formed in a perfect half circle smiles back at you on the white ceramic. Steam rises from it, carrying the scent of shredded cheese, mushrooms, and peppers. Your favorite fillings. Nothing about it is particularly appetizing to you, however. The mere thought of putting a single bite into your mouth makes you want to barf. But at the same time, your abdomen cramps up as it begs to be filled with something.

"Ugh." You groan in disgust, picking up your knife and fork. You cut into the fluffy folded disk, melty cheese oozing out of the exposed seams. The sight makes you gag, but you bring the bite to your lips anyway. You force your mouth open, and slide the piece off of your fork with the very tips of your teeth. You carefully bring the food back towards your tongue, allowing it to touch your taste buds after this painstaking process. When you don't immediately projectile vomit all over the bed, you allow yourself to start chewing. You're able to register the flavors you usually enjoy so much, but it all feels...wrong. Like someone made a photocopy of your breakfast, and served that to you instead of the original.

You compel every last bite of the omelet down your throat, putting the empty tray to the side once you're finished. Your stomach stops hurting, and you feel slightly less sick than before. You decide to finally get out of bed, it doesn't help any to lay here feeling sorry for yourself. Besides, you've got a couple assignments to work on. That ought to clear your head for a little bit. You get out from under the covers, going for your suitcase to find some clean clothes. You open the zipper, pulling out a t-shirt, jeans and some underwear. You wish you'd had the forethought to pack some pajamas, but your mind was far more focused on yelling at Eddie. You put the clothing on, and trudge down the hall to the living room where your school things were placed last night. Mom gives you a shocked look, quickly replaced by a relieved smile to see you out of bed.

"How are you feeling, sugarpuff?" She asks, taking a sip of her second cup of coffee.

"A little better. Shit, I'd meant to bring the tray back." You say abruptly, about to turn back to get it.

"It's alright, Y/N. I'll get it for you." She insists.

"Thanks." You reply as you sit on the couch, pulling the coffee table closer to open your textbooks.

"What's your plan for today?" She asks, though she assumes you probably want to be alone. It's very much within your nature to close yourself off to everyone while you're going through something like this. Of course, she wants you to talk to her about anything and everything. But she doesn't want to push you, either. You'll open up, when you're ready.

"This. I've got a couple things due tomorrow." You say, gesturing at the books without looking up.

"Okay, that sounds good. I'll be around if you need anything." She says, leaving you to your work. She retrieves the tray from your room, putting the dishes in the sink to be washed.

The words on the pages of your trigonometry textbook blur and scramble the more you try to focus on them. And your mother making noise in the kitchen isn't exactly helping. You tap your pencil incessantly on the fresh sheet of your notebook, struggling to untangle the equations you're meant to solve. You stare and stare and stare at the numbers and symbols, finding nothing but absolute gibberish. You're growing frustrated, wanting to tear the damn thing to pieces in retaliation. But what good would that do? You'd be completely fucked on your assignment, and out a good chunk of cash on the book itself. You snatch up one of the throw pillows from the couch, shoving your face deep into its plush surface to muffle the loud, guttural sound that begs to leave your lungs. You need assistance, someone to read the pages to you, something. You only hope the person you plan to call is able to help you. You go for the phone, still sitting off the hook. You put the receiver to your ear, and punch in the numbers like your life depends on it.

"Hello?" Robin's voice comes through.

Thank fuck, you think to yourself. "Hey, Rob." You respond.

"Oh, hey, Y/N. Are you doing okay?" She asks, worried by the rather breathless sound of your voice.

"I'm alive." You say dryly. "Are you able to come over? I'm trying to get my assignments done, but I...I can't read anything." You explain, though you realize your problem sounds rather vague over the phone.

"Sure thing. I'll be right over." Robin chirps, not questioning you whatsoever.

"Thanks, Rob. You're a lifesaver." You sigh in relief, allowing a small smile to creep across your lips.

"Of course, Y/N. See ya in a bit."

"Yep." You press the spring-loaded button to end the call, putting the headset back down on the table. Now all you have to do is wait a few minutes, and you'll have the help you need. You only hope Robin won't bring up Eddie while she's here. You can't allow yourself to even think about him right now, because it'll only derail you further.

A little bit later, the doorbell rings. You get up to answer the door, finding Robin on the other side. She immediately takes you in her arms for a hug, squeezing you tight. "Hey, Robin." You squeak, suffocating in her grip.

"How've you been doing?" She asks, letting you out of her grasp so you can breathe.

"Fuckin' terrible." You huff, leading her over to the couch. "But I don't want to talk about that right now. I'm not letting my grades slip because of that..." You trail off, stopping yourself from calling Eddie such a mean name.

"Asshole?" Robin says it for you, completely understanding where you're coming from. You just nod in reply, feeling guilty for agreeing. "It's okay to say what you feel, Y/N. It's better than keeping it all inside." Robin says kindly, taking a seat next to you and looking over the books you've got open. Civics and trigonometry.

"No, I know. I just don't want to unpack all that right now. I've been up all night thinking about it...about them." You pick at your fingers as you speak, swallowing hard at the thought of those two getting 'friendly' again.

"That's okay. Let's focus on your homework instead. Deal?" Robin offers with a smile.

"Deal." You smile back, and move on to the equations. Robin reads them out to you slowly and carefully, and you write them out in your notebook. Thankfully it reads properly coming from your own hand, leaving you able to solve them all in minutes. Next is the short paragraph questions for civics, which are once again a breeze when Robin's friendly rasp verbalizes them for you.

"Well, shit. That was easy. You sure you needed me for this?" Robin asks with a laugh, surprised at your quick mind and immense intellect. She's heard Eddie call you a bookworm before, but it's only now that she sees how true that nickname rings for you.

"Believe me, I did. The damn words kept moving all over the place, I couldn't make sense of anything." You insist, giggling lightly yourself. "Thank you for helping me, Rob. It means a lot." You put your hand over hers in gratitude.

"Please, any time. You have anything else planned for today?" She asks.

"Not a thing, except wallowing in self pity. But I'm not due for that until five." You joke, but Robin doesn't laugh. "Sorry." You sigh.

"No, it's fine. Humor is a common coping mechanism." She reassures you.

"I aced psychology, Robin. I'm well aware." You snort bitterly. You don't mean to be so moody, but you can't help it.

"I'll let the bitchiness slide since you're in pain. But I was gonna suggest we go shopping to take your mind off things." Robin offers, and it sounds like the best idea you've heard in weeks.

"I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to help. And shopping sounds amazing right now." You fix your tone, and your face, trying to cheer up a little for her sake. You doubt she wants to be around a total sad sack all day.

"Let's get a move on, then. Retail therapy awaits!" Robin exclaims, pulling you off the couch. You grab your purse and slip some shoes on as you head out the door. You call to Mom to say you're going out for a while, and she tells you to be safe in response.

Robin drives the both of you downtown, parking on the curb outside Waxed Out Records. You step out of the car, heading into the store together. You browse the aisles, though you're not really sure if there's anything here that'll catch your eye. If you're being honest, everything in here just reminds you of Eddie. The two of you made semi-regular trips here, usually picking up a new metal album for Eddie's collection. And every glimpse you catch of an Ozzy or Vixen album reminds you of his birthday, one of your best days. You made one of his biggest dreams come true, and the night you shared at that cheap hotel afterwards was easily one of your greatest.

"You okay?" Robin asks as she sees you wistfully flicking through records in the heavy metal section. Maybe a music store wasn't the best idea, given how interlaced it's become in your now-jeopardized relationship.

"Hm?" You hum, snapping out of your trance. You turn to meet Robin's eyes, a single tear falling down your cheek. You force a smile and quickly wipe it away. "Oh, yeah! I'm fine." You say, sniffing harshly to keep your nose from dripping.

"Should we go somewhere else?" She offers, realizing that this was probably the last place she should've brought you.

"Please." You punch out the word, trying to stop your lip from trembling.

She leads you out of the store, looking up and down the block for a different destination. But she has no idea where to go, she's sure every damn place in town has some stain of Eddie fucking Munson on it. "Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm sorry." She sighs, giving up on this plan altogether. She leans against the side of her car, and you do as well.

"It's not your fault. I thought I could handle it. But everywhere I look, I just see him." You sniffle again, and Robin puts her arm around you.

"It's alright, Y/N. It hasn't even been an entire day yet, I wouldn't expect you to be fine right away. I'd probably be freaked out if you were." She says with a light laugh, drawing one from you as well. "How 'bout this, we go to the BigBuy and get some tubs of ice cream, and pick up a few chick flicks from Family Video. We can stuff our faces and forget all about him for a while."

"That sounds like a much better plan." You smile. "Can we call Nancy, too? I need both my girls." You pout playfully.

"Hell yeah, we can!" She cheers, nudging you to get back in the car to set your plan into motion. You and Robin make your short stops at the supermarket and the video store, picking up a couple bottles of wine as well to pair with the ice cream. You walk back into your house less than an hour after you'd left, finding mom sitting on the couch watching TV.

"That was fast." Mom says, wondering why you're back so soon.

"Yeah, the shopping trip was a bust. But we're gonna have a girls night with ice cream and sappy movies instead. Care to join us, Ms. Henderson?" Robin offers, holding up the wine you've purchased.

"Please, call me Claudia. And I'd love to, if that's alright with you, Y/N." Mom replies, more than happy to spend some quality time with you and your friends.

"Of course it is, Mom. I need you just as much as I need Rob and Nance right now." You say sweetly.

"Perfect! I'll make popcorn and pizza rolls." Mom chuckles, getting up from her spot to get started on the snacks. Robin makes a quick call to Nancy's home. Thankfully, Nancy has been dying for some girl time, and is all caught up on her work at The Post for the week. She hurries over, bearing sleeping bags and extra pajamas to make this a full-blown slumber party.

You and Robin change into the pj's to get comfortable, and help Nancy lay out the sleeping bags and some pillows and blankets to make the floor a giant pile of comfort and softness. Mom stays on the couch, though, since she's getting a bit old to sit on the floor. By the time you've got the first movie in the VCR and have your snacks laid out, you've completely forgotten all about the horrible things that occurred last night.

The four of you laugh and cry your way through Pretty in Pink, St. Elmo's Fire, and Dirty Dancing. Popcorn is playfully tossed at one another, and wine flows into your glasses liberally. Mom doesn't have any, but you don't blame her. It seems she's chosen the sober life after her run-in with the law. When you're part way through your fourth film of the night, the time closing in around 11pm, you hear the screech of tires in the driveway, and the unmistakable crash of a rear-ending taking place outside.

"What the fuck?" You gasp in surprise at the noise. You, Nancy, and Robin go to the front window to take a peek outside. You find Eddie's van pressed into the end of Nancy's car, broken shards of head and tail lights littering the ground. "Jesus christ." You groan, wondering what the hell he's doing here. You stomp towards the front door, ready to go out there and give him a piece of your mind.

"Y/N, wait. You sure you wanna go out there?" Robin asks, stopping you in your tracks.

"I kinda have to, don't I? I can at least tell him to go away." You sigh, grabbing hold of the door handle. You yank it open, and step outside to get a closer look at the damage. It's minimal, just the broken lights and a couple small dents and scratches. "Eddie! What the fuck are you doing?" You shout to him, noticing he's still in the driver's seat. The window is down however, and his head swivels lazily to look at you.

"Heeeeeey, sweetheart!" He slurs, smiling drunkenly. Great, he's fucking wasted. He struggles to open the driver's side door, and almost falls onto the ground when it finally swings outward. He plants his feet, and ambles his way around the van to come over to you.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You ask with crossed arms. You notice that he's still dressed in his clothes from last night, wrinkled and soaked with sweat. And he absolutely reeks of whiskey.

"I-I came here to see youuuuu, babydoll." He laughs, trying to reach a finger forward to poke your chest. He misses by a mile, hitting the empty space to your left.

"Eddie, you're drunk. You really shouldn't have driven here." You say with a sigh. He's a total mess, he's probably been like this all day.

"But I haaaaad to see you, sweetheart. I had to tell you howwww sorry I am." He continues to slur his words, hiccuping a few times as he speaks.

"I told you I need time to think things over. That means leaving me alone." You reply sternly. "Look, I'll call Steve to come pick you up, alright? I can't let you drive home like this." You turn around to go inside and make the call, but you feel Eddie's sweaty hand close on your arm. He swings you back around to meet his gaze, his eyes dilated and glassy.

"Y/N, pleeeease. I love you, baby. I need you. Arrrrwen needs you. Just come home." He begs, putting his hands on your shoulders. His booze-soaked breath fans in your face, and his words feel like a blow to your heart. You know he's hurting as much as you are, but this isn't helping. You need him to go away, he's only making things worse.

"Eddie, please stop. I can't have any kind of conversation with you like this. You're making a fool of yourself." You say sadly, avoiding his eyes. You can't bear to look at him like this, it's honestly embarrassing.

"I'm making a fool of myself? Riiiight." Eddie scoffs, backing away from you now. His brow furrows, his tone becoming aggressive. "Like you didn't leave me in front of all our friends. Aaaaand for what? 'Cuz I fucked Chrissy? Biiiiiig whoop!" He throws his hands in the air clumsily, they slap against his sides once they come back down. You get a very strong urge to slap him for saying these things, but you know better than to hit him.

"Everything okay out here, Y/N?" Robin asks from the doorway. Nancy and Mom are with her too, waiting to intervene if things get uglier than they already are.

"Yeah. Can you call Steve to come get Eddie? He needs a ride home." You call back.

"I don't need anything!" Eddie shouts, making you cringe. You really hope none of your neighbors hear any of this. He stumbles for you again, taking hold of your chin. "Except for this pretty mouth of yours on my dick." He chuckles dumbly, his inhibitions and self-awareness eroded away by all the alcohol he's consumed.

"Jesus christ, Eddie! Just stop it!" You shout in disgust, swatting his hand away. This...thing in front of you isn't your boyfriend. It's a sad, hurt man that's drowned his sorrows in massive quantities of liquor. He doesn't know what he's saying. He doesn't know how much he's hurting you with his careless actions.

"Oh...oh, no." Eddie gasps in realization, bringing his hand to his mouth. "I'm sorry, princess. I-I didn't mean any of that." He continues, his features falling into sadness. It appears a sliver of clarity has made its way through, if only for a moment. He tries to reach for you again. To apologize, to shower you with kisses, who knows. But you back away from him, shaking your head as you start to cry again. You can't do this, you can't deal with him right now. "Y/N, please. I'm sorry. I just miss you so much...I love you, I need you. It's killing me to be without you." He keeps going, breaking down just like he did last night. He falls to the ground before you, sobbing loudly. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...sorry..." He folds over himself, gripping helpless handfuls of the grass beneath him. "Y/N, please...please, just come back. Come back to me." Eddie begs, unable to think anything but his hopeless pleas for you to forgive him, to let things go back to the way they were.

"I can't, Eddie. Not right now. I'm sorry." You say tearfully, tempted to kneel before him and stroke his back or hair to soothe him. But you can't offer him any comfort, because he'll think everything is okay again when it isn't. Not yet. Maybe it never will be. All you can do is stand over him, the both of you crying yourselves sick again.

After what feels like hours, Steve eventually shows up to your house. He pries a broken Eddie off the ground, overpowering his drunken kicks and squeals as he begs to be let go. Eddie cries out your name like a wounded animal, the sound of it absolutely wretched. But Steve stuffs him into the passenger seat of his car anyway, taking him back to your apartment to babysit him for the night. If you know Eddie at all, he'll hoof it all the way back here if nobody stops him.

"C'mon, Y/N. Let's get back inside." Robin says when she comes over to you. You nod through your tears, forcing your eyes away from Eddie's muffled wailing, and his pounds against the car window. Robin walks you into the house, closing the door behind you both.

"I'm sorry, sugarpuff." Mom says, taking you in her arms for a warm hug. That whole display was incredibly difficult to watch. She feels for Eddie, she truly does. She acted pretty similarly when George waltzed out the door ten years ago. The poor boy's heart is aching for you, breaking more and more as the hours pass. She may still be furious with him for creating this situation in the first place. But she'd be hard pressed to not hold an ounce of sympathy for him at the same time.

"Sorry about your car, Nance." You state, muffled against your mother's shoulder.

"It's fine, Y/N. You didn't know Eddie was gonna pull a stunt like that. I'll make sure to send him the bill." Nancy says in understanding, her and Robin joining to huddle to help alleviate some of your pain.

"That was so fucking embarrassing." You whimper, unable to stop crying.

"We know, Y/N. But it's not your fault." Robin assures you.

"And what's even worse, I wanted to take him back. I wanted to let him hold me, and kiss me, and tell me how sorry he was...I almost did." You explain, feeling so ashamed of yourself with every word.

"It's okay, honey." Mom coos, stroking your hair.

"We've all been there. But you have to take the time to think this over. Don't let what just happened take away from that. Eddie was wrong to come here tonight, it was really selfish." Nancy says, helping talk you down from the edge of jumping back into things with Eddie right away. He betrayed your trust, and he doesn't deserve to be forgiven so easily.

"Fuck, I just realized I have to see him at work tomorrow." You groan, wishing you could afford to take the day off. But you've got inventory that cannot wait another day, and a new schedule you haven't even started yet.

"Given the total mess Eddie was just now, I'm guessing he'll be calling in sick." Robin replies, and the thought gives you some comfort. Maybe she's right, maybe Eddie will stay home. You really fucking hope so, at least.

"C'mon, girls. Let's clean up, get cozy, and put the last movie on to go to sleep." Mom says, patting your shoulders so you'll let her go. You help her and the others put away the leftover ice cream and wine, and slide into your sleeping bag between Robin and Nancy. Your mother pulls a blanket over herself on the couch, after putting in the final movie you'd picked out. The Breakfast Club begins to play, and she flicks off the lamp. The room goes dark, only lit by the television.

"Thanks for being here, girls. It means a lot." You say quietly, still a little teary-eyed as you settle in to finally get some rest. You've got a long day tomorrow. First, you have a couple classes, and then you have an afternoon shift at the Hawk. It's going to be absolute hell to get through every second of it. But the world doesn't stop just because your heart is broken.

"Of course, there's nowhere we'd rather be right now." Robin scoots closer to you, and Nancy follows her lead. They make you feel safe and warm, which is something you didn't know you needed until now. You allow your eyes to close as the students of Shermer High show up for their Saturday detention, and murmur a quiet 'goodnight' to the girls. You drift off in no time at all, a welcome contrast from the previous night. You don't dream about Eddie, or the party, or anything at all, really. You don't wake up covered in sweat and hyperventilating in the middle of the night. You don't toss and turn, or struggle to maintain a steady period of rest. This night is probably the easiest you've ever slept in a very, very long time.

Monday, September 25th, 1989

You're woken up the next morning by Robin, who hands you a bowl of cereal. She sits cross-legged beside you holding a bowl of her own, taking a large bite of Frosted Flakes into her mouth. "Thanks, Rob." You say sleepily, sitting up in your nest to eat. "What time is it?" You ask, rubbing your eyes.

"Seven-thirty. Don't worry, plenty of time before class." Robin replies, assuring you that you won't be late. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great, actually. For the first time in months, probably." You scoff lightly. You can't believe that all it took to get a good night's sleep was to be sandwiched between your friends on the floor.

"I'm glad to hear it, Y/N. You deserve it, after what you've been through."

"Careful Robin, you might make this 'Vickie' of yours jealous." You joke, the two of you laughing quietly. Mom's still passed out on the couch, but Nancy is nowhere in sight. "Where's Nance?" You ask, looking around to see if she's in the kitchen.

"She went home. Said she had some stuff to do with Karen for the wedding. Invitations, or something like that." Robin explains as she chews.

"Oh, okay." You shrug, digging into your own breakfast now. "Is the van still out there?" You question, hoping you don't have to see any evidence of last night's incident sitting in the driveway.

"Yeah. But Steve called last night and said he and Eddie would come get it once you've already left today. I talked to him for a minute, I didn't wanna wake you."

"What did he say?" You ask, curious to know how Eddie was doing.

"You sure you wanna know? I don't want to upset you." Robin says, giving you a cautious glance.

"I'm sure. I can take it." You nod.

"Okay, well...Steve said Eddie was even worse once they got to the apartment. He threw up. A lot. And he was just a mess, still crying for you and begging Steve to bring him back here." She pauses, gauging your reaction. You nod for her to keep going, and she does. "Steve did his best to calm him down, and managed to get him into some clean pajamas and at least lay in bed. He put Arwen in there with him, and he sat there until Eddie fell asleep."

"So, Steve stayed there all night?" You can't help all the questions, despite the plan you'd initially made to push Eddie out of your mind and focus on your own life. You love him too much to pretend you don't care. You have to know that he's not going to end up hurting himself.

"Yeah. Mostly to make sure the dingus wouldn't choke on his own puke, I'm sure. Steve seemed pretty pissed about the whole thing." She says.

"Really? I suppose we might've woken him up." You reply guiltily, considering how annoyed Steve must have been to be dragged into your drama.

"Oh, no, no! He was pissed at Eddie!" Robin clarifies, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Oh." You roll your eyes at yourself for drawing the wrong conclusion.

"Yeah, he's definitely not a fan of Eddie making you cry. He gets very defensive of his friends." She explains further.

"But Eddie's his friend, too." You retort, not understanding the logic there.

"Well, yeah. But he hurt you, Y/N. In a pretty awful way, at that. Steve's seen all the shit you've had to go through, with Tommy and the trial and everything. We all have. And we were all under the impression that Eddie would never cause you that kind of pain." She speaks emphatically, showing you just how much she and the others care about you, that they understand your situation.

"Yeah, so was I." You huff, flicking the soggy pieces of cereal around your bowl with your spoon.

"But I will say, as much as we're all royally pissed at Eddie, I can understand why he didn't want to tell you." She says cautiously, noting your furrowing brow. "Don't get me wrong, he should've been honest from the beginning. But try to see it from his perspective. He did this awful thing, because he was hurting. And once it was over, he regretted it to a point where he hid it from everyone."

"I do see it, Robin. I've spent hours thinking about it from his point of view. But he still lied to me. How can I ever trust him again? How do I know he won't go back to her?" You ask as a couple tears drip into the bowl in your lap, forming translucent swirls in the milk.

"Y/N." Robin sighs. "There is no way in hell that he wants anyone on this entire planet besides you. I promise you that. Look, I'm not saying you should forgive him, or take him back. Alright? Just...think it over. Make sure you listen to your enormous heart, and that genius mind of yours, before you decide anything. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod, appreciating her advice. Those two things, your head and your heart, are currently all mixed up right now. So much of you wants to take Eddie back, to forget all about this and be happy again. But the other part can't stop picturing him with Chrissy, their mouths and hands all over each other. You also can't stop replaying the dishonest words he said to put your mind at ease months ago: There's nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Chrissy's a very dutiful wife, and I'm only interested in pursuing you...

Robin does you the favor of driving you to school. She's proving herself to be your closest friend as of late, and you're so thankful to have her on your side. You don't say much during the ride, your mind wandering to all sorts of places as you look out the window. You wonder how Eddie's doing, probably nursing a major hangover after the stunt he pulled last night. You wonder if Arwen is doing okay without you there, if she's meowing incessantly, searching the apartment for you. You wonder what Steve's night has been like, if he got any amount of sleep while watching over your man. 'My man.' What the hell does that even mean anymore?, you ask yourself. You sigh aloud as Robin pulls up to the college.

"I'll pick you up after your shift, Y/N. You gonna be okay today?" Robin asks as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

"I'll survive. Thanks for the ride, Rob. I'll see you later." You answer flatly, forcing a small smile. Though it falls away as quickly as it arrives.

"Later." She gives you a sympathetic look and a little wave. You close the passenger door, and she drives off to start her day at Family Video. You go inside the school building, heading to your first course of the day.

Your classes go alright, it's easy enough to shut off the emotional side of your brain and focus on taking notes. You blindly copy down the words your professors say, and anything vital they put on their chalkboards. You're running on autopilot, refusing to let yourself think or feel anything except 'that's important, write that down'. Everything else is locked away in a box, shoved to a deep dark corner until you can open it once you're alone. Old habits die hard, and your tendency to shut down and hide is currently fighting for its life.

You walk a few blocks to the theater once you're done with class, still feeling rather numb as you step through the door. You head straight for the restroom to change clothes, ready to dive headfirst into work and further remove yourself from inner turmoil. You slip into your uniform, your armor. You straighten everything out in the mirror and take a deep breath, before going into the office to start the day. You step past the threshold to the break room, stopping dead in your tracks when you see a familiar head of long curls digging through your shared locker. You debate turning around and running away, perhaps to hole up in the projection booth with Milo until the coast is clear. That is, until Jamie acknowledges you, holding a cup of coffee in hand.

"Hey, Y/N. How was your weekend?" Jamie asks, making you cringe. You notice Eddie flinch with his back still turned to you. What is he even doing here? You were sure he was too fucked up to come in today. You only hope he'll have the good sense to stay the hell out of your way.

"It was fine. How was yours?" You reply, forcing your feet to keep moving toward the office.

"Oh, it was great. I went out with that girl I told you about, Trudy. We had dinner at this Italian place..." Jamie continues talking, but you're not really paying attention. You pretend to be doing something important at the desk, shuffling papers around to keep your eyes pointed downwards.

"That's nice." You say casually, daring to look up for a moment to see if Eddie's left the room yet. He hasn't. In fact, he's leaning against the lockers now, appearing rather desperate to talk to you. He taps his foot on the floor, and his arms are crossed to keep his hands from fidgeting. He looks like complete and utter shit, too. He bears a pale, almost green complexion, with dark circles around his bloodshot eyes. "You okay with being on concessions today?" You ask Jamie, while still gazing in Eddie's direction. You can't help yourself, despite it being the very last place you want to look. You know he won't drop this, unless you handle it now.

"Sure thing, boss!" Jamie salutes you goofily, heading on his way. It's just you and Eddie in the space now, and the tension is palpable. Neither of you know what to say. You certainly don't have any desire to do whatever dance this is at all. You've got too much work to do.

You sit down in the office chair, pulling your empty schedule sheets closer to you. You retrieve a pencil from the metal cup on the desk, finding any way to not make eye contact as you speak. "What is it, Eddie?" You ask coldly, immediately regretting saying anything at all.

"Can we talk一" He starts to ask, but you cut him off with a loud scoff.

"No, we can't. I've got a lot of work to do. And I honestly don't have time to hear a half-baked apology right now." You snip.

"I am sorry, though. For being a total idiot last night." Eddie apologizes anyway, making you sigh.

"Yeah, it was pretty fuckin' stupid." You pause for a moment, and meet his eyes again. "You realize you could've killed yourself, right? Or someone else? What the fuck were you thinking?" You ask rapid fire questions angrily, your task falling to the wayside. You can't hide your concern for him. Things could have been so much worse last night. You could have lost him forever. If you haven't already.

"I know it was dumb, Y/N. I didn't mean to make things worse. But I was out of my mind. I just...can't handle being without you." He explains sadly, pulling on your heartstrings.

"Yeah, well, you're gonna have to learn, Eddie. I'm not your girlfriend right now, and I don't know if I will be again. But I have to figure that out on my own. These drunken stunts, and the calls to my house, and trying to talk to me when I'm not ready are only making that more difficult." You buckle down, not allowing Eddie's more than evident pain to sway you in your resolve. It's been less than forty-eight hours, not nearly enough time to make up your mind.

"I know. I'm sorry, pri一 Y/N." He corrects himself, sparing the pet names.

"Okay. So, when we're at work, we are coworkers only. I'm your supervisor, and you'll do as I say and fuck off. Got it?" You don't mean to be so harsh, but you don't really know what else to do.

"Yeah. Got it, boss." Eddie says with shaky breath, remembering all the times he's called you that in bed, all the times he said it to you as a genuine term of endearment. But now, those romantic meanings no longer exist. It's just another bland, boring word like all the rest. "Where do you want me?" He asks, still needing an assignment. He cannot wait to leave the room before he breaks down crying again. He also urgently needs a trip to the restroom to throw up.

"Ticket booth, please." You answer shortly, returning to your paperwork. Eddie leaves without another word, and the air returns to the room. One more minute of that, and you might have suffocated.

You spend an hour or so working out the schedules for the next couple weeks, putting yourself and Eddie as far away from each other as possible. It's a struggle, to be sure. But you can't see his annoyingly sad, handsome face every day while you're debating what's best for you. You put the papers on the bulletin board once you're finished, and grab the sheets you need for inventory. You trod along to the storage closet, taking your time filling in the numbers once you're inside. You don't have much else to do today, besides making sure everyone's on task and everything is running smoothly.

It's nice and quiet in here, blocking out the sounds of customers filing in, and the loud pops of the popcorn machine. No one comes in looking for more paper cups, or a fresh case of Red Vines. For the first time in the last couple of days, you feel a small sliver of peace. You get to just be, filling out your little boxes without having to worry about anything else. The outside world beyond the closet door is miles away, leaving you alone in a way that is far from lonely. You could get used to this. If only you were able to hide out in this mini fortress of solitude all day. Eventually though, you pencil in the last little number in the last little box on your clipboard. Perhaps a smoke break is in order after your efforts.

You put the completed inventory back in the office for Mr. Biggs to sign off on, and retrieve your pack of smokes and lighter from your bag. You go out the side door to the alley, and lean against the brick wall while slipping a cig between your lips. You bring the lighter to the tip, inhaling deeply to start the burn. It's your first smoke since you left the apartment. You suppose you've been putting off feeding your Eddie-induced nicotine addiction, as the mere taste of smoke reminds you of him. But you can't put it off another minute, you've been craving this far longer than you'd like to admit.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jamie asks, drawing your eyes his way. You hadn't even noticed the door opening again, too absorbed in numbing your stress with tobacco.

"You could say that." You reply, forcing a smile.

"I noticed how tense you and Eddie were earlier. I figured something happened between you too." He says, tossing the large trash bag he'd brought outside into the dumpster. It lands with a loud thunk as it hits the bottom of the bin.

"Yeah. It definitely did." You say shortly, not particularly interested in talking about your relationship problems with your coworker.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. You guys are great together, we all think so. I hope you're able to work things out." Jamie says kindly, picking up on your cagey-ness. He may have been your lab partner once upon a time, but that doesn't exactly make you close friends.

"Yeah." You add simply, shrugging your shoulders as you take a long drag. You don't really know what else to say. You appreciate the sentiment, everyone is rooting for you. But you can't help wondering if all their support for the relationship is worth it.

"I'd better get back in, Max needs me." Jamie leaves you alone, feeling rather awkward about this small conversation. He doesn't blame you for being a bit cold to him. It appears whatever happened between you and Eddie must have been pretty bad.

"Fuck." You sigh to yourself once he's gone, pinching the bridge of your nose. Jamie was only trying to be nice. You didn't have to act so goddamn detached. You just want to pretend to be normal, at least until the workday is over. You won't spend your time telling all your underlings about your personal, private business. You won't dredge up all the bullshit in a place where tears and sobs do no good. You refuse to be anything but a supervisor today. You stub out your cig, having only smoked half of it, and head back inside to finish this stupid fucking day.

"How'd it go?" Robin asks as you slide into the passenger seat after closing time.

"Ugh, it was awful. Eddie showed up after all." You sigh, tossing your bag in the backseat.

"Oh, god. Really?" She groans on your behalf. She can imagine how difficult that must have been for you. "Did he say anything?"

"Yeah, that he was sorry for last night. He wanted to have a 'real talk', but I told him no. I told him that I need time to figure this out, and that he needs to leave me the fuck alone until I do." You explain grumpily, hating the fact that you spoke to him at all. You could've ignored him, let him stare at you dumbly until he gave up and walked away on his own. But you didn't. He knew you wouldn't. Because he knows you still love and care about him, despite everything.

"Good. I'm proud of you for putting your foot down." Robin says with a smile.

"Thanks. I don't feel proud. But I appreciate it, I guess." You laugh dryly.

"You'll get through this, Y/N. And you have all of us to help you do that." She reassures you, taking hold of your hand. You squeeze it tight, happy to accept the platonic affection. She's right. Things will get easier every day, you just have to stick with it and keep your head up. You'll decide whether or not going back to Eddie is what you really want. And you'll have your friends and family supporting you the entire way.

To be continued...

[plumpybread]

I just want to say that your latest art is BEYOND AMAZING! along with the lore he carries and now I'm even more eager to get Neuvillette the moment his banner arrives, I just can't find words to describe how monumental and truly AMAZING he is, and I think the same about the rest of your work, really Your AU has hooked me and I think that thanks to this and Razor's they make me enjoy the game more.

I also have to ask how, being so massive, how could Neuvillette carry out the feats of the canon's history? How does he relate to characters like Wriothesley? And what do the rest of the nations think about the mere fact that Neuvillette is the heaviest being in Teyvat? Your art inspires me and I think I will return to practicing drawing!! 😁😁😁❤️

Thank you, and good luck with them Neuvillette pulls!!

As for Neuvi's role in the story, well, he can't really do anything, at all, so his only involvement with Aether's journey would be some conversations with him through the Melusines (since he's is too massive to even speak or be heard).

Wriothesley spends all of his time underwater inside the Meropide Fortress, so he rarely sees Neuvillette if at all, but likely still keep some contact like they do in canon through Melusines carrying messages and orders.

As for other nation's people's thoughts on Neuvillette, well, they mostly treat him with the same respect as they would to other leaders from other nations. Don't get me wrong, he is unbelievably gigantic, but everyone knows he had no control over his predicament, and try their best to treat him normally if they ever get the chance of standing near his body. Obviously, there are also lots of people who find the mountain of flesh that he is quite disturbing, especially since he can be seen from almost every point in Fontaine.

Fontainians are fascinated by Neuvillette, though, and proudly take him as their leader and a clear sight of what one should expect in their nation

[theloopus]

Get to know you game! Answer the questions and tag 9 people you want to know better.

tagged by @livepoultryfreshkilled hiiiii<3 i've never been tagged in one of these! or i have but then i forgor to do it. alas

Last song listened to: not counting background music and soundtracks from watching tv or youtube i believe i was listening to The Communists Have the Music by They Might Be Giants a few days ago? just because the sick ass music video popped up on my youtube tab and i was wasting time. yes i can go days without willingly listening to music sorry to the musicheads everywhere

Currently reading: still Las Malas by Camila Sosa Villada. yes it's been months and i am still trying to get through this really short and easy read. it's an unbelievably good book though if you speak spanish you should read it. rough and raw semi-autobiographical travesti magical realism

Currently watching: actively i've been binging GLOW i have like two episodes left i got really hooked! it's such a good show i'm already so fucking pissed it got cancelled and i haven't even gotten to the cliffhanger yet. but the more i learn about this cancellation the more pissed i get. also very funny that whenever i watch a tv show about women doing sports i'm like "omg i should do that" my friend said it's like sports anime to me and she's so right. other than that i'm still getting through Laverne & Shirley (S5), The X-Files (S4), Columbo (S8), and i've been watching a bit of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S1) with my little sister!

Currently obsessed with: i am in such a slump lately i'm not gonna lie to you. am i obsessed with anything rn? up until one or two weeks ago it was Starsky & Hutch occupying my every waking thought but i've calmed down about them i think rn. uhh. of course Quantum Leap and MASH always on the mind. well i've been trying to grow some plants (Hutch core) but they all keep dying except for my loyal pothus (Starsky core).

augh tagging 9 people this part is always the worst i feel like i'm annoying and also inevitably leaving out people. FEEL FREE TO IGNORE noooo pressure but beloved friends and mutuals @alukardtheabysswalker (birthday guy!!!) @kittymoding @archerism @theboost @just-a-fucked-up-kid @argentinosaurus @pomegranate @opqrstuv04 @dykebeckett @simpmasterv2 + bonus @aheathenconceivably what are you guys up to lately! ily

[nvmadic]

SORE LOSER - SCHLATT

prompt: after losing a game of mario kart, schlatt wants to teach the reader a lesson. words: 2,223 warnings: explicit content / 18+ notes: f!reader

What started as a friendly game of Mario Kart, very quickly devolved into an insult-throwing, competitive game of life and death. Had Schlatt known you were so adept at the game maybe he would have prepared himself, or even suggested a completely different game.

"Wow, what a fucking bitch you are," He grumbled monotonously, gone past the point of anger as he watched another green shell appear on his screen and overturn his digital avatar. Schlatt pinched at the bridge of his nose with an exasperated huff, "this isn't even fun anymore, you're just being an annoying little fuckwit." Throwing his controller down out of spite and onto the couch completely abandoning the match, he stood himself up with a groan. Hastily pausing the match with an agape mouth, slightly disappointed that he didn't want to play all the way through, "come on, you still have a chance to win," you claimed as you stifled your laughter, trying to entice him to sit back down and be throttled with another shell you had loaded in your arsenal.

"No, I've had enough," The overgrown child retorted before sipping down the remnants of water that had been sitting on the coffee table undisturbed for a few hours due to sheer concentration and determination to win a match on his behalf. Letting out a displeased grumble, you turned off the game and relaxed back into the couch as he turned to look down at you with an aggravated still expression. "Oh stop being such a sore loser," you lambasted him with a raised eyebrow. Admittedly his immature outbursts over the past few games had become grating as opposed to the amusing back-and-forth jabbing at each other that took place beforehand.

"I'm not being a sore loser, I just don't want to play with someone who is being such a fuckin' asshole." He stated adamantly, his anger refusing to settle and he refusing to admit that he was wrong, which was usually the case anyway.

"You're just being a whiny little bitch because you didn't get what you wanted," you admitted with a pause, "you just wanted to win so you could rub it in my face." In all honesty, you were really expecting him to retort back with another childish accusatory insult before he stormed off to calm himself down, but his expression remained and he stared vacantly at you as you could almost see the cogs turning inside of his head, and possibly cartoon-like steam expelling from his ears. "Is that right?" He asked with equanimity, though you could still see his brown eyes burning with annoyance.

Unhurriedly nodding your head with a simple hum, not knowing what you were getting yourself in for as he had never really had this demeanour before, but you had a feeling it was worth the risk. Schlatt silently mouthed the word wow , raising his eyebrows and emulating the shock and disapproval you were expecting but realistically he had you hook, line, and sinker. He wanted you to bite back.

He lowered himself down onto the couch, his gaze shifting from your top to bottom as he took you all in. Despite the silence, it was unbelievably tense in the room in the best way possible. The unpredictability of his next move was kind of pulse-raising, yet alluring. Overstated, almost as if you were flirting with death.

His fingers ardently dug into the waistband of your sweatpants as he tugged them fervently down past your knees, along with your underwear, past your ankles before aimlessly discarding them to the floor. A light shiver consumes your entire body as the cold air hit your bare skin. Still, without saying an entire word, he sank himself fully. His large hands grasped eagerly at your thighs, pulling you effortlessly in one motion so you were as close as he needed you to be. Schlatt's soft lips pressed against your pulsing clit, and as he did so you could feel his facial hair grazing the inside of your thighs. His tongue was timorous at first, his lips did most of the work. Pursing his lips on your clit as he excitedly sucked and occasionally used his teeth to delicately brush against it.

Schlatt's fingers would occasionally tighten around your thighs, his fingers pressing into your tender skin only indicating his arousal. Eventually, his tongue hesitantly caressed your sensitive node, making laps around it before skimming it once more. Satisfied hums left your mouth, hands buried in his long brown curls. You could feel him smile as he spurted out his hot breath amused by his actions and how you were now like putty in his hands. He continued to suck and lick as if he was parched and on the brink of death. His eyes would remain shut but he would periodically look up at you to see your flushed face, tightly shut eyes and pursed lips. You were only getting more vocal by the minute as he continued to hit all the right spots before abruptly pulling away without warning. Lustfully, he licked his lips and revelled in the contorted expression you attempted to conceal.

"I'm really close," you uttered as you attempted to regulate your breathing. Schlatt nodded proudly with a wicked and playful smile, "yeah I know," he added cockily. His hands caressed your legs and everywhere but where you wanted him to be touching; tingles shooting through every part of your nervous system as his gentle fingertips glided against your skin. "Please," you weakly attempted to beg for him which you only knew was going to fail. And you were right.

"No, I'm not going to let you cum," he continued to smile devilishly, "you are however going to be a good little girl and shut up, and take my cock." Doe-eyed, you obediently nodded as he began to undress. Impatiently, he removed his top half and neglected it just as quickly as he did with your sweatpants. Schlatt's erection wasn't concealed very well; the grey cotton shorts only amplified its outline and whenever he would move you could see it slightly bounce beneath the fabric as you now realise he wasn't wearing any underwear. He noticed that you were looking and only wanted to tease you further. Grabbing his stiff cock over his shorts, he began to rub it up and down leisurely so you could get a clear visualisation of his entire length.

Swiftly pulling down his shorts, his erection bounced up and tapped up against his abdomen before bobbing for a short amount of time. Using his hand, he caressed his cock again, using his thumb to wipe the pre-cum that was beginning to dribble from his tip. “Now come and put your whore mouth to good use,” he demanded, continuing to massage his length.

Adjusting yourself with your knees on the floor and his lap in front of you, his cock twitched as you held it up to your face - its span was almost equal the size of your head. Looking down at you through his brows, his eyes burned with desire. He couldn’t wait to hear you choking on his cock.

Pursing your lips over the tip, you grabbed his shaft. Delicate kisses and timid licks to ease him into it. Your supple lips found their way to his balls, caressing them with your fingers and cupping them before gingerly sucking on his balls and boy did this drive him crazy. Schlatt’s head flung back out of pure pleasure and gagged on the pleasurable groan that tried to escape his throat. Lowering your mouth onto his hard shaft, you let your tongue do most of the work but still utilised both of your hands: one on his cock and the other caressing his balls.

Schlatt used one hand to twirl your hair into his grasp and would occasionally push it down to hear you gag on his cock. Going so far down you could feel his trimmed pubes tickle your nose as he shoved your head down. “What a good little slut, taking it all just like I asked,” he crooned. Continuing to let out low and breathy groans as you massaged his balls, you came up to give your jaw a bit of a break. A string of saliva attached the head of his cock to your pursed and drenched lips.

After giving you a few generous seconds to recompose yourself, Schlatt pushed your head down onto his cock once more, thrusting his length into your mouth as he facefucked you. The occasional gag would cause him to let out a more satisfied groan, the momentary tapping of his balls on your chin as he forced himself inside of you. “Mmhmm, I just love using your mouth,” he lulled, pulling your head back to look at your face. Now, his face was more of a crimson tinge than it was prior, his hair sodden with sweat and his intense lustrous stare more piercing than before.

Schlatt stood himself up and bent you over the arm of the couch, slapping his now very erect cock on your ass. His hands couldn’t get enough of your curves as he squeezed and grasped your hips and waist. “Behave and don’t make a noise, otherwise I’m going to stop,” he demanded, “and I know how much you want me inside of you so I suggest you listen,” he continued, peering down at your entrance which was practically dripping at this point. He used one hand to grasp your waist and the other to aid him in guiding himself towards your entrance.

He wasn’t being gentle this time, he drove himself inside of you knowing you were bound to squeal or make any sort of noise but your hand was firmly placed over your mouth which managed to mute most of it, he would give you the benefit of the doubt this time. “You’re such a good little slut letting me use you like a toy,” he murmured, continuing to go deep at a slow pace. He was cupping your ass in his hands as he watched himself slide inside you, his cock glistening with your wetness. Gaining speed and momentum, he was only making it harder for you to contain your moans.

Slipping up as you were getting closer to your climax, you let an audible whimper leave your mouth before Schlatt tutted and retracted his length from you. “I thought I told you to behave, hmm?” He murmured. A long chain of apologies left your lips before you pleaded and begged for him to let you cum all over his shaft and how much you wanted his cock inside of you.

“Now who’s being the whiny little bitch who’s not getting what she wanted hmm?” He amusedly hummed to himself, stroking his cock as he pressed his tip up to your entrance, painfully teasing you. “Does my little princess not like being edged?” He softly ribbed in your ear as he leaned over and rested his chest on your back, using one hand to snake up your shirt and play with your nipples.

“If you apologise for earlier I’ll reconsider letting you finish, you just have to be a good girl for me,” he offered, his hands groping at your chest before unhurriedly entering you as he couldn’t resist himself.

“I- I’m sorry,” you managed to apologise breathily, “I didn’t mean to misbehave please let me cum for you.”

He was now planting delicate kisses all along your neck, “I didn’t hear that baby can you say that again,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting the side of your face before presenting you with more tender kisses. Schlatt liked being dominant but at the same time he couldn’t keep up the persona because the moment you became a begging little mess, tears staining your face and utterly aching for him, he couldn’t help but cave in. He was a very soft and generous lover and pleasing you turned him on just as much, if not more than dominating you would.

“Please,” you were practically whining at this point “I didn’t mean to misbehave I know better, just fuckin’ fill me with your cock I need it,” you pleaded with him, eyes shut as you tried to relish the painfully slow strokes. “I know you are princess, I just wanted to hear you say it again,” he smirked, as he began to pick up the pace once more. Your pleased moans were music to his ears as he grabbed your waist, thrusting himself as deeply as possible so he could hit your sweet spot, and only within a few minutes were you about to reach your climax again. “Mhmm that’s it, cum for me baby, you’ve been a good girl you deserve it,” he affirmed you. Tightening around his cock, your body rid itself of all tension and began to slump into the cushions of the couch, all energy drained.

Not too long after could you feel him twitch, his grasp on your waist tightened and his momentum and speed erratic as breathy moans escaped his lips. There was a brief pause as you both regained your breath. You were still recovering from the intensity of the orgasm before you joked “you’re more than welcome to lose another game of Mario Kart whenever you want, holy fuck.”

link to the rest of my work [x]

[forabeatofadrum]

It's Wednesday My Dudes! Thank you @that-disabled-princess, @nausikaaa and @cutestkilla tagging me. Time is an illusion.

I was out and about, not doing much, since it was my birthday. I watched the digital ticket of Starkid's new musical Cinderella's Castle, and I enjoyed it, and I played some viddy games, namely Cult of the Lamb and Splatoon 3. Splatoon 3's come to an end with the great Grand Festival. I hope Kurt and Blaine are bopping to ANOTHER version of Ebb & Flow. Off the Hook keeps releasing new versions of that song and it still slaps.

And after last week's poll, I started The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker. So far, it's not going well for me, up to the point I'm looking into cheats. I can't believe I am unbelievably stuck on the first dungeon.

But because of Wind Waker, I have returneth to writing with the thing no one asked for, me included, namely a Zelda fic!

A little background, but back in 2021, I wrote Any way the wind blows, a fic that's set in Breath of the Wild and it's about Link reuniting with his sister after a hundred years. Then, fast forward to 2023: Tears of the Kingdom came out and the character of Purah has been doing scientific fuckery with her age. Maybe some of you remember this, but after that game came out I spent some of these SSS/WW posts talking about a possible sequel for Any way the wind blows. Welp, seeing the Link and Aryll of Wind Waker interact brought all of those thoughts back and last night, underneath my blanky, my mind started writing it. So under the cut there's some words of Easy come, easy go, will you let me go, because yes, I even came up with a title.

Kiana knows Aryll is old. Everyone in Lurelin knows Aryll is old. She's called the village elder for a reason. She'll be turning a hundred and twelve. If she manages to make it. Everyone's noticed that Aryll's grown even more tired than before. She spents most of her days inside, even though the villagers have made the outside more accessible. A few weeks ago, she only went outside when her brother came to visit. The two of them would sit by the ocean. But now, that's also stopped. To be fair, now that the Calamity is over, Link spends more time at Lurelin. Before, he would only visit once a week. After, he practically moved here. But Link and Aryll spend most of their time inside Aryll's hut and Link's also started roaming around Lurelin without her, because she's often asleep when he's around. Kiana knows Aryll's lived a good life without regrets. If it hadn't been for Link returning, she'd be at peace with Aryll slowly fading away, but Aryll's had to miss her brother for almost a hundred years and it feels cruel to have it end. Sebasto argues that maybe this is the way it is. The Goddesses have kept Aryll alive so that she could be reunited, but now that's happened, and it's time to move on, but Kiana cannot accept that. Kiana knows she can't stop death. No one can, not even the most advanced scientists in Hyrule, but when she overhears Zelda and Link discuss the aging experiments of one of their friends, Kiana starts to think.

I'd like to write this fic in the same style as the first one, which alternated between the present and Aryll's stories about the past, but I have no clue how to do that. Ah. We'll see. I gotta finish it first.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @coffeegleek @caramelcoffeeaddict @raenestee @tectonicduck 

@nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer

@special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral

@artsyunderstudy​ @facewithoutheart​ @shrekgogurt @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites 

@whatevertheweather @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @esilher @kurtsascot @blackberrysummerblog 

@nightimedreamersghost @ivelovedhimthroughworse @thnxforknowingme @martsonmars

[lilaclever]

Wow, so this is what it feels like huh? The end of Splatoon 3, and I got to be there the whole way... Splatoon 3 is my first ever Splatoon game in a series I had always had some small interest in, but could never bring myself to attach or in some cases even begin to take it in. Mainly because by the time I got to it it had already run its course. I was put off by the series, fearing I had missed out on too much. But then one day, Splatoon 3's Global Test fire arrived, I was surrounded by friends all excited for its release so I thought, "Okay, it wouldn't hurt to try" and boy am I glad I did. It was so colorful, so magical, I was so unbelievably hooked. Because of my friends I got into Splatoon, they helped me get it even, and I'm so incredibly thankful for this experience. And where some have gone within that period I'm happy for the ones I still have and continue to get. I haven't really made any friends I've come to talk to in Splatoon... Yet. But I have made friends in the game with some really cool players. I just couldn't be happier, and I can't wait to see where this series goes next!

[huggybug]

last night - mason mctavish

word count: 1.4k words

note: inspired by last night by morgan wallen.

“Baby, come back. I don't know everything we said last night but I know I want you back here with me, don't leave like this” You sigh as you listen to the voicemail Mason left this morning when he woke up.

You got up from Jamie's couch, stretching before making your way to the kitchen to make some coffee. You stand, watching Trevor's stupidly expensive espresso machine brew your coffee as memories from last night come back in pieces.

“You're fucking insane if you really believe that” Mason yells. He had just gotten home from the bar, the team had gone out to celebrate their win and yet again, Mason was hanging around some girl.

“No Mason, you don't get to make me feel bad for this one. It's happened multiple times now. You go out and find some girl and then I have to hear about it through snapchats or because your teammates are calling me to come get you because you're too drunk to leave on your own!”

“Well if I'm such a bad fucking boyfriend why are you still here, huh?” He asks, getting close to you, trying to make you back down.

“That's a great question Mase, I really don't know"”You spin around, leaving the kitchen and heading for your keys. “Yeah go run away from your shitty boyfriend” He calls after you, following you to the hallway.

“You're ridiculous Mason, I gave up so much for you and this is how you treat me?” He scoffs and you're immediately bracing yourself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth.

“And you think I don't make sacrifices for you?” He yells back, keeping the air thick around you.

“What have you sacrificed Mason? Please, tell me”

“My entire rookie experience for starters”

“Are you seriously going to complain right now that you're missing out on hooking up with girls after you begged me to move here? Are you kidding me Mason?” You were so close to turning around and leaving, getting the hell out of here as fast as you could.

“Well...”

“You're unbelievable Mason, un-fucking-believable” You grab your phone and keys in a huff, throwing the apartment door open.

“Y/n-” He sounds different now, softer maybe but you turn around, seeing red.

“I do everything for you! You asked me to move here, I did. You want me to come to your games, I do. Does it not occur to you that I have other things going on too? I guess not because I'm just your girlfriend, just here for looks, right?” You've heard the way some hockey players talk about their girlfriends; how they talk about them like they're objects or something they own, rather than someone they love. You'd never heard those types of things from Mason but at this point, you wouldn't put it past him.

“Stop doing that” Mason grumbled and you crossed your arms, staring at him.

“Doing what?” You were exhausted, you just wanted to retreat from this argument, to apologize and go back into the apartment and let him take you to bed but your dignity refused.

“Putting fucking words in my mouth!”

“You're just like the rest of them. You think you can get away with anything because all these girls are after you but guess what Mase? No self respecting woman is going to put up with this shit and if they do, they're not after you, they're after your status” Everyone thinks dating a professional athlete is amazing until they're actually doing it, then they can see it for what it really is, a reality you've recently discovered.

“You're always so worried about other girls, holy shit” Mason groaned.

“Well stop giving me a reason to” That's all you need to walk out. You leave, walking down the stairs and straight out the building, not stopping until you're a couple blocks away where you finally break down and call Jamie.

“You okay?” Jamie's voice cuts through the silence of the kitchen, making you jump. “You've been staring down at your coffee for a couple minutes”

“Sorry... I just-”

“You're good” Jamie smiled and you're suddenly overwhelmed by his kindness. This wasn't the first time you've had to call him to come pick you up after a fight with Mason. You knew it probably wasn't the best option since it's putting him in a tough spot but he's really your only good friend here and he's assured you many time's he doesn't mind. Actually his exact words usually were 'I can handle some awkwardness with MacT if it means you're safe'. Long story short, Jamie's an amazing friend.

“I should probably get going anyways” You say quietly, taking a sip of your coffee and cringing at the bitterness.

“Back to Mason's?” He asks and you feel a little embarrassed when you nod. “You don't have to, you know? You can stay here for a bit, we really don't mind.” While Jamie was cool, you're not so sure about Trevor. You know better than to think he'd kick you out but he definitely felt a little weird about you staying here during one of your and Mason's fights.

“Thanks but I should. He called a couple hours ago so I should head back and try and talk to him”

“Okay, I’ll give you a ride back”

…

You let yourself back into Mason’s apartment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s still asleep with how quiet it is. You drop your keys in the dish on the hallway table before walking into the kitchen where he’s sitting with his head down on the counter.

“Mase?” His head snaps up and you feel a wave of emotion wash over you. He looks like a wreck.

“Hey” His voice is so soft, it’s like a completely different person compared to the one yelling at you last night. “I’m sorry, okay? Last night was just way out of hand”

“I can’t keep doing this Mason” You sighed.

“I was drunk. I said shit I didn’t mean and I’m sorry but I woke up and I knew I still wanted this, wanted us” He sounded so sincere, your heart was battling trying to stay mad at him. “I want to fix this… I need to”

“One more chance” You said reluctantly. Mason was relieved, he knew this wasn’t over yet.

…

You knew it was over when they were on the road in Toronto. Mason went out with some friends from back home and once again, you saw it all on snapchat. He was dancing with a girl hanging off of him and you decided that you’ve finally had enough. You spent the next 24 hours packing up everything you had, determined to be moved out before they even made it back to Anaheim.

You must’ve gotten the times mixed up because Mason walked in as you were collecting the last of your stuff in the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I said you had one more chance Mason”

“I didn’t do shit!” He objected and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever, I’m leaving” You didn’t have any fight left in you. Your stuff was all packed up into two suitcases and you were more than ready to go home.

“Yeah okay, see you when Jamie and Z kick you out” He scoffed.

“I called my mom, I’m going home” You informed him. You’re not sure why, it’s not like he deserves to know but it feels more vindicating to let him know you’re leaving California entirely.

“You’re just going to leave? What about working through it? Does this relationship not mean anything to you?” He yelled as you pulled your bags out of the bedroom and towards the door.

“It meant a hell of a lot more when you weren’t flirting with random girls every time you go out” You yell back, hating that it’s come to this. That the guy you loved has lead you to a place of hatred. “You ruined this Mason, not me. I gave you so many chances to try and fix it but you don’t care, I don’t think you ever did”

“You can’t say that!”

“Yeah well I did. Have a nice life McTavish” You push your bags out into the hall and slam the door behind you, making your way to the elevator and not daring to look back.

[pysoch]

Unhinged medic headcanons/prompts because I'm going insane

All my personal opinions n thoughts lolzies

Also he isn't toned down at all here LOL

+=======+

- He's done a variant of Pavlov's Dog where he set a response system in Scout whenever he hears Medic clap his hands together. He backs himself into a corner and holds his scattergun out. This is a result of a trial and error he made

- UNBELIEVABLY catty. He's so petty that one time when Spy took his straightener, he snuck into the smoking room and smeared the word "Bitch" on his mirror with melted wine wax and broke two bottles

- He doesn't take Christmas seriously because of his knowledge of Satan, so he'll intentionally turn the stars or Engineers crosses upside down for a reaction. He also locks himself in his office on the 25th.

- On the battlefield if he's dominating somebody, he'll intentionally stab them where he knows they'll bleed out fatally, but slowly, then laugh and strut away

- When performing surgery on the mercs for the uberheart upgrade, Sniper made a snide comment on how crazy he was, and Medic held their beating heart in his palm for an extended period of time until Sniper nearly died.

- He'll have a "reaping" every three months where he grabs a random merc at night, tie them up, and experiment on them until he comes across a new discovery. This period can go for two weeks to a full month, and he will not stop until he learns something new. The more he learns, the more fearful the mercs get.

- One time with Pyro, Medic cut him open from the neck to the waist to see if they were human or not. He recorded his findings in a small notebook, then handed it to Pyro and told them he wouldn't tell a soul. Take this as you will

- He leaves furious sticky notes on the base's fridge about cleaning up, cooking, materials for emergency supply runs, and battle tactics. When Scout ripped them up, he went missing for two days and came back through respawn.

- Sometimes Medic will take dead merc's organs and implement them inside himself just to see how it feels. His favorites were Scout's lungs and Engineer's liver. Least favorites were soldier's small intestine and Sniper's kidneys.

- On that note, he has performed many "useless" surgeries on himself. He'll cut himself open just for the thrill of it.

- He does many operations blindfolded and calls it "The Gurney Game"

- In his personal life, when he divorced his wife, he got the papers finalized then immediately right-hooked her as hard as possible and said "What? It's not domestic anymore!". He never exhibited any violent traits to her before this.

- He got wasted beyond belief one summer night and ended up in a bar brawl with two men after he called them homosexual slurs. He had to be dragged away still screaming out names.

- His birds love him and he loves his birds, but sometimes he'll yell at them when he's frustrated. The birds peck him when he's asleep for this.

- He's crawled in the vents before to spy (🤯) on the other mercs and record what they do

- The administrator scarcely contacts him anymore because of his unpredictable nature, and only gets him to do things through money

- He'll very often snatch Spy's stuff just to start drama in the base

- While he was getting hired, Pauling showed up to his apartment and was immediately greeted with him accesorized by white powder on his upper lip and several bandages on his forearm. He told her to come in, and all the lights were entirely off save there be a window above the table where they sat. When asked why, Medic removed a cloth on the table that showed a deceased cat on the table surrounded by many (stolen) surgical tools. He was hired on the spot.

- He spends every Tuesday night ironing his clothes very meticulously and re-organizing his closet. If it's tampered with, he'll go into an unbridled fury and shove organic masses beneath the merc's doors.

+=====+

:3 I love medic!!!!

[utilitycaster]

If you don't mind me asking, what are your thoughts on the FDA?

There's been some mixed response to the FDA in Ravening War, particularly with some thinking it's kinda railroad-y and that it takes away the players' agency wrt the PCs involvement in the war

I think it's a fairly common way to get the group together in D&D but I'm waiting for more episodes to fully form an opinion on them

I have not seen this opinion, which is good, because it’s unbelievably fucking stupid. You are correct: this is just…how you tell a D&D story.

I think to properly understand the true depths of idiocy here, we need to understand what “railroading” is and what “player agency” is, so let’s start with “railroading”. The following response is like 2.5 pages in Google Docs (single spaced, font size 11) so it’s below a read more. I’ll note that in the abstract, sure, the concept of a secret society recruiting the party could have been executed in a way that was heavily railroaded and impinges on player agency, but at no point in the two episodes we’ve seen has that been the case with the FDA, which is why this take is so dumb.

Railroading is, imo, a neutral concept; I think it was Matt Colville who said “people seem to like trains, which, by definition, are on rails unless something really bad happened” or something to that effect. That doesn’t mean you can’t criticize railroading in TTRPG actual play (or home games), but, like all criticism that is not about one’s personal taste alone, it requires context. The most neutral way to define railroading is that the DM has pre-determined a certain path that the players cannot ultimately change. It is not the DM offering hooks that the characters will likely be interested in; it is not the DM simply having things happen that the players didn’t control. The whole point of the DM is that they build the world, which moves even when the players aren’t making it happen, the same way that you, an individual human being, exist in a world where things not caused by you and 2-6 other people occur. Is it railroading for the DM to say it’s raining when it wasn’t caused by a player’s Control Weather spell? Is it railroading for bandits to attack you on the road? No - those are just the world existing. And if the rain floods the nearby village and in helping it you learn of a quest, or the bandits steal your sword, and you follow these leads, that is not railroading; that’s called “the DM is making things happen so that a story is possible, and you should thank them and pay for snacks.”

Railroading becomes a problem when the players really don’t have any choices and truly cannot influence the outcome. I have a preference for more open-world/sandbox games, but railroading has its place. Notably, The Ravening War as a series should be pretty on rails. It’s a prequel, so the ending is already set and immutable. It’s also a limited series of six episodes. You cannot make a limited series an open world where the players can fuck around endlessly: you need to have a hook and you need to get the action going quickly, because, again, only six episodes.

Railroading can be used to good effect if the players can still influence elements of the outcome; the actual apogee solstice episode in Critical Role C3, while the build-up did get a little too rigid for my taste, was a great encounter that was pretty heavily on rails. I don’t think that Bells Hells really could have done anything to prevent the ritual fully - they were simply too outclassed. But I think had they not done the sabotage they did, the solstice effects may have been significantly worse and the situation now more dire, and had they perhaps made some different choices or just rolled better, they might have freed Caleb or Beau, or swayed Liliana, and the effects would be lessened and they’d have more allies. They still could make actions that influenced the outcome, even if aspects of the outcome were virtually impossible to change. (The same is true of Calamity - Calamity is happening regardless, but the players’ choices still very much tell the story).

The FDA is not railroading: it is a premise. It is a hook. The players could have turned it down both in the initial summons and the one in last night’s episode. They are not doing this, because everyone at this table is a good and collaborative D&D player aware that this is a limited series and that this is the premise. A lot of edgy losers who suck ass at D&D see the DM dangling an interesting hook and deliberately try to avoid it as some flat attempt at “subversion”, and those people are miserable to play with and even more miserable to watch. There’s nothing wrong with doing the unexpected! But when I think of great unexpected moments in actual play, they’re moments that still move the story forward and are collaborative; they just solve an encounter in a way the DM didn’t foresee. It’s good improv: it’s “yes and HERE’S A WILD TWIST”, not “Nope.”

I should also note that D20 is famously pretty heavily railroaded. The first few seasons were strictly pushed into a very artificial RP/Combat alternating pattern with pre-made battle maps, to the point that when the Bloodkeep crew bonded it required a rapid rework of the final battle because PvP had been assumed, and when the Bad Kids had two deaths in the first episode they were sent back in a frantic deus ex machina and then when they dispatched with too many enemies too quickly they were sent to jail for most of an episode. Which isn’t bad - again, you have to be on rails to an extent in a limited campaign, and these were early episodes when Brennan and his players were still adjusting to D20’s specific format. But to call out the FDA as railroading…I already used the phrase “to call this brain dead generously assumes the person saying it has a brain” today but I have to use it once more because truly, this is standard D&D and standard storytelling, to have a call to a strange event. This is no different than most of the Bad Kids getting detention in the very first episode of Fantasy High. They could have skipped it, but they didn’t.

And why didn’t they? Well, that brings us to player agency. Player agency is an even more fraught term than railroading, and it’s used to mean basically anything. It comes up a lot in why someone’s favorite TTRPG is the best, usually as a meaningless buzzword.

At its core, player agency really just means that the players have an ability to, through actions supported by the gameplay of the system they are using, influence the world in some way (ie, the railroading is not so locked down so as to make their actions entirely irrelevant). It means they are not stuck in a novel narrated by the GM, but rather are part of the collaborative storytelling. That’s it. Anyone who says differently is selling something, and the thing they are selling is probably a playbook for PbtA.

The thing about player agency is that technically, you can do quite a lot, but again, if your goal is to tell a collaborative story, you will probably at least check out DM hooks, even if you reject them, and you will probably at least consider what your other party members are doing and try to stick with them. There are narratives that D&D (or whatever TTRPG you are playing) and the setting your GM has created and any other restrictions you may have simply do not support well; a war where the five players are all openly fighting on different sides (or even on two different sides) is not something that is well-supported in under 18 hours of D&D. There does, for standard D&D practices, need to be some kind of unifying task! And the FDA is it. Players can still decide to pursue their own interests, and have, but they also have the FDA - which they are also, presumably, interested in! It’s not a lack of player agency if the DM says “hey you’re being recruited by a COOL SECRET ORGANIZAITON” and the players say “HELL YEAH COOL SECRET ORGANIZATION”.

I could go on about player agency forever, honestly, and you’re welcome to ask me more, but on some level it feels like the “but player agency!” crowd interprets “people considering the feelings of the other players and wanting to play in the space the GM has created instead of making a supremely self-indulgent OC as their character and acting on pure unadulterated selfishness” as a restriction on player agency. I mean, where does it stop? If the FDA is a limit on player agency by providing a compelling shared goal for five disparate characters with a complex system of alliances and interests, should the players have played characters all unambiguously on the same side so that the FDA wouldn’t be necessary as a device? Wouldn’t that be limiting their agency on the character creation side of things? Hell, why do they have to play characters from Calorum at that point? Obviously this is ridiculous, but this line of thinking is actually bizarrely common; people make D&D PCs with no thought to the setting or party comp all the time. The players absolutely could have said no, and that could have been a great story too - of five people running from this summons and bonding over that! But that still requires the summons. The DM is a player, and yeah, they have a bit more control as the worldbuilder, but also put in far more work and have far less room to fuck around. This is fundamentally how D&D works. It’s okay if you don’t like it and want true freeform improv fantasy, but then you should perhaps not be watching D&D actual play.

So: this is a very typical D&D premise, and a not uncommon low fantasy intrigue premise. The way stories in general start is when a person or group of people experiences a change that leads to some form of conflict, and for D&D specifically it’s typically a group of people experiencing some kind of event that brings them together. The FDA gathering the party is that event for The Ravening War. This is a story of five characters brought together in a secret society. The person who expressed the take that it was railroading or a limitation on player agency, rather than like, how fiction works, is a complete and utter idiot.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Trope rating game

tagged by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation (my wife must be trying to kinkshame me or something that's okay I'm into it)

rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic? -10 -> very dissuaded  0 - don’t care either way  +10 -> very enticed  nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged.  Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

Age gap: +3

It definitely isn't a make or break for me, but sometimes when I'm on the cusp of not clicking something and I see it, especially with certain authors, the temptation is too good to ignore.

Codependency: +5

It's about the toxic love for me. They just NEED each other SO MUCH.

Obsession/Possessiveness, jealousy: + 7

There are the occasional times when the obsessive/possession is too much, but it is RARE at this point. The more "you're mine, I'm yours" there is the better to meeeee.

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): +4

I like it as a background feature most of the time (said as if my most popular written work didn't start as grumpy/sunshine based).

Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: +10

I kiss every author who writes it on the MOUTH.

Friends with benefits: +5

I love it when it ends in requited feelings, but I have read it where it turns ugly and stays ugly and I do not ever wanna read that! Please! I'm a big baby.

Sex to feelings: +6

See above pretty much. But also in cases where they were just a hookup and then just fall in love quickly? That's my kryptonite.

Fake dating/relationship: +4

I am alllll for fake dating/relationships, but it absolutely has to lead to the real deal. I can't be edged like that for it to just end. I especially love when it's slow burn for this, so if the slow burn tag isn't there, I may not click it.

Friends to lovers: +2

Something is broken in my brain that this doesn't get me hooked the way any other blank to lovers does.

Found Family: +8

I don't click on stuff BECAUSE of it alone, but it definitely does help with fics I'm on the fence about.

Hurt/Comfort: +10

Yes. I want them to hurt and then be so so comforted. Every time. All the time.

Love Triangle: -8

In any ship, I absolutely hate it. Just be brave and make them polyam instead.

Poly, open relationships: 0

I personally love Steddissy as far as polyam goes, but open relationships are super difficult for me to read. I know that works for a lot of people, but if it's a tag, I'm probably not reading that fic.

Mistaken/hidden identity: 0

For one shots, sure. Anything chaptered, I think it gets into unbelievable territory without very specific other tags with it and I have never seen one that hits the spot.

Monsterfucking: +10

Yeah well. No words necessary.

Pregnancy: 0

I'm never reading a story BECAUSE of the pregnancy tag, but it fits in some cases (the good omegaverse shit if ya know what I mean). I lived it, hated it, don't wanna read too much about it.

Second Chance: +3

I don't know that I have ever read a Steddie second chance fic, but I don't know if this particular trope would make me dive in.

Slowburn: +10

I loooooove a good slow burn. I will read just about anything if it's got a slow burn tag.

Soulmates: +7

Steddie is really the first ship where I was like all in for this trope, so if it's got this tag, I am so so in.

No pressure tags: @wormdebut @wynnyfryd @messessentialist @steves-strapcollection @starryeyedjanai @thefreakandthehair @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle @vecnuthy @corrodedbisexual @stobinesque @legitcookie @matchingbatbites @judasofsuburbia @sidekick-hero @spooky-stevie @inairbinad @simplebtromance @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog

[jackie-shitposts]

re: your headcanon as to what ivy and zack do when we don't see them, i love your ideas!! it makes a lot of sense and works very well with what we've seen them do in the eps (zack picking up carmen in paris, ivy with her evergiven, it seems she was initially supposed to find them food while waiting for carmen in paris, them looking for the doubloon in ep4...). also i love the great team red scenarios this conjure, like all the nice moments spent together after a successful caper. i love them your honor

YES YES EXACTLY. THEYRE A TEAM AND A FAMILY!!! I'm gonna go into more specifics since you have given me the loveliest opportunity to do so!

Original Post (with my tags below it)

I definitely think that Zack and Ivy do a lot of the caper preparations and keeping them alive. Ivy and Zack, when they seemingly aren't apart of capers, are doing caper prep things like:

Exploring the city; they figure out routes of travel and find hotels, food places, and escape routes.

Paperwork: The two check into hotels, arrange car rentals, order plane tickets, and pick up supplies they need

Ivy does a lot of mechanical work outside of capers. She's working on Carmen's glider, grappling hook, red drone, ect.

Zack does things like cooking, packing, and laundry. hes a housewife love him for it

I know most people think that Player does a lot of those things, but I don’t think he does it all. Between constantly being in Carmen’s ear, hacking the hard drive, hacking into things during capers, and being a homeschooled kid (which takes SO MUCH DAMN TIME), I find it unbelievable that he does ALL of it. Though I do think he does some, especially the last minute changes to travel and wiring funds from VILE to different charities.

I also think Zack and Ivy play an integral role in getting the team to RELAX. Zack especially knows the importance of work and play, so they make sure the team has chill time

They!!! Find!!! Food places!!! Local bars (with karaoke ofc) for the team to get food and drinks. They also pick up food to go for the team

They find some fun things to do! i like to think they do paintball a lot

zack makes carmen, ivy, and shadowsan (when he can) go to spas with him. SOMEONE needs to make this team relax jfc

video games! they all play video games together, and zack is often looking for an arcade. player hacks the arcade games for him <3

They all work together to fight VILE. Carmen and Player dont do all the heavy lifting! Zack and Ivy are the balance to Carmen, Player, and Shadowsan. they remind the team to take breaks and have fun- theyre on carmen sandiego’s never-ending tour, theyve got to enjoy it!

[zhoniysahar]

She faced an impossible task — to survive. To survive at any cost and against all odds. Not to follow in the footsteps of her mother and father, to break off all contacts with the gang, the foundations of which had penetrated her skin, and it would be good not to leave after them all. To continue living, she had to go to school, albeit late, but she needed to finish and get a basic education. A new city, a new school, a new life, all with the same name. The principal accepted some kind of made-up story on her knee about why she had to return to school at that age, and enrolled her as a student. Of course, it was impossible to fulfill her little goal without problems. Classmates and guys from the parallel tried to waylay, come up with something, put it in place, just have fun with an unsociable girl, but a few explanations in understandable language on their fists turned out to be enough to get behind her. She earned her place in the gang not with pretty eyes, but with deeds.

It wasn't so easy to master the curriculum, but it wasn't too difficult either. The exact sciences were especially given.

And physical education. The teacher advised to contact the coaches from the sports clubs at school so that good physical fitness and a short temper would be directed towards a peaceful course. She agreed and really followed the advice. There were three clubs in the school — football, volleyball and exy — and she just had to choose the one to which her heart lay, or its likeness. Several days have passed and a dozen matches of various teams in these sports have been watched, and only one game has hooked her. The players impressed with their speed and intensity, the brightness of the game on the field, as if they were fighting for life and death, and an unconditional victory snatched from rivals without unnecessary effort.

Unbelievable.

This kind of game suits her.

Training day after day, interscholastic games that felt like survival games, victories torn from the throats of rivals, and heartbreaking defeats - all this was not in vain.

The last game of the school year, the last game at school, because it was already her senior year, a loss after which disappointment spread through her veins, the desire to run away with a wild howl from her throat, which hurt after shouting at teammates, an empty shower room where there was too much room just for her, the only one of the girls on the team, and a stranger in the women's locker room, who immediately stared at the girl who entered with a lifeless gaze.

— Is it worth killing yourself because of this?

A low, husky voice, dark eyes, a tattoo in the form of the Roman numeral "5" on the left cheekbone and blond hair.

She watched his whole team and him in particular because they were both goalkeepers, but now this... Humiliating. Where is he and where is she.

— Maybe shouldn't have done that. But it's too late to think about it.

Late. For her. As always.

— But if it wasn't, I wouldn't be here.

What does he mean by that? And what is he really doing here?

— What do you need?

— I need you. A player like you suits us.

— Are you laughing? After losing?

— Does it look like I'm laughing?

— Can you do that?

— Draw conclusions. Your coach has a contract. For you, training starts in a week, hurry up if you don't want to be late, Natalie Shields.

He got up from the bench and left, leaving behind a bittersweet feeling of anticipation that replaced the sour taste of losing.

Three days later, she enters Edgar Allan University, and a week later she starts training. Two months later, in her first game, in a black uniform, she enters the field to the left of Andrew Minyard, who chose her, with the Roman numeral "6" on her left cheekbone.

[catch-needed-hobbies]

Aight 100 word wip game. Thanks @aerodaltonimperial for the tag because you tagged me during probably my most deranged fic ever but here we go:

Unfortunately for everyone it seemed, while the sound of Starscream’s voice was more annoying than a “WHAT?!” chant mid-promo, the robot in question didn’t think so himself. He wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

“So you see you pathetic squishy little insect, once I dispose of Megatron once and for all, I, Starscream the Mighty, shall lead the Decepticons to victory!” Christ on a bike, this guy was unbelievable. Hook tried to tune out the incessant yapping by looking down the floor of his cage, seeing the desert from so high up everything looked like a miniature replica.

Worst flight ever.

Idk who to tag so I'm just gonna say if you see this and you have a wip, go ahead and play.