#is one that is very hard to get a handle on

[froggiewrites]

Fanboy

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!

You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.

It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But you’re finally starting to accept that he simply doesn’t feel the same. His eyes don’t linger on you when you’re around. He doesn’t show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but it’s hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesn’t accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.

He just doesn’t really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasn’t shown any signs of affection.

“He’s shy.”

“He gets embarrassed easily.”

“He’s worried about the power gap.”

“He only looks at you when you aren’t looking.”

“Yelling is how he shows his affection.”

And of course, your personal favorite.

“He’s just a nerd. He doesn’t know how to act around women.”

Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. “That cannot possibly be true, Shachi.”

“Why not?”

“Look at him!”

“I know what he looks like. Doesn’t change the fact he gets nervous.”

“Captain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And he’s a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe he’s some shy little nerd who can’t bring himself to talk to me? He just doesn’t like me, Shachi. And that’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“Handle what?” Penguin’s voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which you’ve decided to invade for the day. 

“Her pining for Captain.”

“Ah.”

You huff. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s like…a fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.”

Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. “I thought you said that’s what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.”

“Yeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.” You’re pouting. You hate that you’re pouting.

Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. “It’s hard to get over somebody you don’t really want to get over.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.

“I know a great guy you could use as a rebound.”

You sigh. “Is it you?”

He laughs. “Who’s to say? You don’t need him yet.” His smile softens again, something more genuine. “But know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesn’t work out? Come talk to us, and it’ll all be alright.”

Shachi pipes up as well. “It will work out, really. But if it doesn’t…” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you can’t help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Law’s voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.

“I just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, but…” Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You don’t miss the way Law’s eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how you’re taking up space somewhere you don’t belong.

“I’m also off shift.” Your voice is small, embarrassingly so. 

“I wasn’t talking to you two.” Law’s voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. He’s nothing if not born to command. You’d love to hear what commands he might give you, if–

No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You don’t know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze. 

“I’m on break,” Shachi defends, causing Law’s eyes to shift over to him. You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you can’t figure out why.

Law’s voice is significantly harsher than before. “Well, end it.” You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. “I–Just get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” There’s a hint of chuckle in Shachi’s voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. “You can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.”

You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. “No, it’s fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.” You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always. 

Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. “Chin up. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What’ll work out?” Law is staring at Penguin’s hand on your back.

“Nothing!” You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.

His eyes narrow.

“Sorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!” Penguin’s smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if he’s disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldn’t, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.

Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.

“Hey, take a breath, please. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Are you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?” Penguin’s hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.

You give him a shaky smile. “I’ll be alright. Anxiety’s never killed anyone. Probably.” You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, who’s waiting directly outside.

“You okay?” His voice stops you in your tracks.

“Yeah, I’m–” You see the disbelief on his face. “I’ve been better. But it’s okay. I’ll get there.”

“Are Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. I–” He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. “I could talk to them. If you need me to.”

You chuckle. This means he really has no idea he’s the source of your anguish. Good. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re actually helping me through something.”

He purses his lips. You imagine how soft they’d feel on yours. “Helping you through something?”

“Yeah. I’ve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.” You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that you’ll come undone and say something you can’t take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you can’t afford to give in to the impulse.

He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. “I see. Well, I’m glad you have their support.” Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? “I’ll leave you be. Have a nice nap.”

“Thanks, Captain.” You try not to run back to your room until you’re sure he can’t hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You aren’t allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Law’s chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You aren’t allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly aren’t allowed to cry about the fact that it isn’t him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you weren’t getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you. 

You dream of him, as you always seem to.

You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But today’s dream is one you’ve had before, and one you always dread.

I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.

I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?

Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.

Yours shoot open.

No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing you’ve been craving most.

You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang won’t surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend you’re out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Law’s office, and hopefully that means you’ll avoid the man himself. You don’t want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.

You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. It’s impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when you’re underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. It’s peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric. 

“Are you heading downstairs?”

You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. “Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?”

“Can you run these to Captain for me? I would, but–” 

You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, you’re swiping the papers from his hands easily. “Yeah, of course, big guy. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you so much!” He’s off in an instant.

You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. You’re going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.

Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesn’t feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You can’t let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.

No voice calls you inside.

Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. You’ve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and you’ve caught him yourself once or twice. He’s going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isn’t actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.

“Maybe I should tidy up for him,” you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasn’t grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. You’d do nearly anything to ease your Captain’s burdens, if he’d just let you.

Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You don’t read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find you’re able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesn’t fit into the previous two. You’re nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.

You can’t figure out what What You Can’t Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Law’s office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesn’t give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.

Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captain’s fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. There’s a character you’ve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She can’t be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you can’t help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she can’t be you. She’s described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.

You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didn’t see it, because really, you know he wouldn’t want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But there’s so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? It’s good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and he’s really good at building tension, and–

Oh.

Your captain hasn’t just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.

He’s been writing smut.

Really good smut, honestly.

You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, you’re fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Law’s hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Sora’s do under this mystery woman’s. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh as– 

“What are you doing in here?”

You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didn’t know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage you’re showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself he’s simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they don’t. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.

“Hi Captain!”

“...Hi.”

“I–Um. I was organizing your desk for you.”

His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. “I see that. …Why?”

“Bepo had me run papers down to you, but you weren’t here, and–and your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.” You’re speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now you’re sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and you’re far more flustered than you were when you began.

And even worse, he smiles. It’s a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you don’t even know if he realizes it’s there. But it is. And it’s beautiful. “Thank you, then. I appreciate the thought.”

Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You don’t know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.

“Captain–”

“Did you–I–” He takes a breath, gathers himself. “Did you read anything you weren’t supposed to?”

God, you did. You’re halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. You’re panicking. You can’t let Law see how flustered you are, can’t let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while he’s out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.

You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear “Shambles!” as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.

In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.

You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.

"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"

"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it you’re pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Do you think this is funny?”

You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesn’t dampen.

“Are you trying to embarrass your captain?”

“I–uh–Captain–” You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.

“Answer me.”

“You’re so close.”

He pauses.

He blinks.

And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. “I–um.” He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.

He couldn’t…

Could he?

Before you can process this, he’s speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. “How far did you read?”

“Uh–pretty far.”

You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, “Oh god. This is–you were never supposed to see that.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep reading, it was just–it was really good.”

He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. “What?”

“It was–I liked it a lot. I didn’t even mean to start it, I just couldn’t figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, and–I’m really, really sorry, Captain.”

“You liked it?” His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness you’ll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.

“...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didn’t know you were a writer.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”

“Why?”

“I just…don’t know if I’m good at it.” He sounds small in a way you’ve never heard him. You’ve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldn’t bear to put it down.” You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You can’t bring yourself to touch him, not as you are. 

He won’t look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. There’s a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. “You expect me to believe that? That you didn’t just read it to laugh at me?”

You can’t keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe he’ll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. “Why on earth would I do that, Captain?”

His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. He’s not relaxed, not quite, but he isn’t ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he won’t go further. “I suppose you wouldn’t. …So you really liked it?”

The way he’s looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You can’t help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. “I really did.”

He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he can’t hide his relief, and his continued interest. “What did you like about it?”

“I thought the descriptions were very vivid. It was…” It feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross to call it hot, but he’s looking at you so expectantly. “Very stimulating.”

Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. “Simulating?”

You shiver. “I–uh–yes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be so…charming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didn’t recognize her name.”

He nods. “You wouldn’t. She’s an original character.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didn’t like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I just…made one up.”

You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. “So you made her just for this? Didn’t even give her a name?”

“I haven’t decided her name yet, but I’m working on it. And yeah, she’s just for this. Why?”

You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. “So…is she supposed to be me?”

He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. “What? No! No, why would you think that?” He looks absolutely mortified, like he’s praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.

“Well in her intro, when you describe her…she looks a lot like me.”

“...She does?” He seems genuinely surprised, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Why are you asking? You’re the writer! You didn’t realize?”

“No, I…” He’s blushing to the tips of his ears. “She was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didn’t think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.”

“She has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress she’s wearing in her intro is my favorite color.”

His shoulders are so tense they’re practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, you’re kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I didn’t think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.”

“So when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?”

He doesn’t answer.

You try to hide your giddy smile. “That’s sweet, Captain.”

He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. “It wasn’t–I–I didn’t notice. You don’t think it’s…creepy?”

“That you think I’m beautiful?”

“That I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.”

“Oh. When you put it like that I guess it doesn’t sound great.” He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. “But no, I don’t think it’s creepy. It’s not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?” Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly don’t feel. 

“Right. Yeah. I–There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He didn’t deny it.

“And it’s…great porn, honestly.”

Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. “I appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But I’m not sure on some of the descriptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure it reads as true to life.”

“Does it need to?”

“No, not really, fantasies don’t have to be realistic. But…I can’t help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didn’t notice? Or didn’t know because I’ve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?”

You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you don’t know how you could.

“What if we…tested it? To see if it’s realistic?” You can’t believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law can’t either.

“What?” A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.

“Oh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, I’ll just go–”

“No!” He’s so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldn’t give for those fingers to be somewhere else. “No, don’t–don’t leave. I think–I would–um. I’d like that.”

You blink. “You would?”

“Just to…test it. To make sure my writing is accurate. I’m a perfectionist.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down to where he’s holding you, and to your surprise, he doesn’t release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Law.”

“What?”

The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. “I want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.”

“Yes, Law.”

You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. “Good girl.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?

“How did it start again?” He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. “She and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversation–”

“Can we skip to the good part?” You hate how needy and breathless you sound. You’re already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.

He chuckles. “I guess we can skip forward a bit.” He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. “But have you been good enough to earn it?”

You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and you’re both ready to continue the game. “Please, Law. I’ve been good. I’ll be good.”

His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. “Do you feel that? The way you’re pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, don’t you?”

He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. “Ahh–Yes! I need you!”

He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. “Yes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. That’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re so drawn to me. On some level you know: it’s just you and me. We’re all there is, all that matters. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Law! Yes!”

His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as you’re exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. You don’t remember that line.

His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like you’re going to explode. You’re so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.

Until his fingers leave you.

“No!” Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that you’ve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.

His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. “Did you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?”

You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part you’re supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, “I thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.”

He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. “Oh, honey, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And how wonderful it’ll be, once you’re so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?” He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. “What it’ll feel like, when I’m finally inside of you?”

His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. You’d give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isn’t a part of the scene.

“You’ll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good it’ll feel to cum on my cock. Isn’t that worth the wait?”

“God, yes.”

“Good girl. So agreeable.” One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, god, please.”

He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.

And then another.

And another.

“Law?”

You can hear him chuckle against you. “What, darling?”

“Please, Law.”

He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects you’re having. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You know the line you’re supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But you’re soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what you’ve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. “I want you to kiss me.”

He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Sora’s, but what comes after is all Law. “Whatever the lady wants,” he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.

The kiss isn’t fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way you’d ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. You’d never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isn’t a dream, that he’s really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but there’s something tender and real beneath it. 

Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now it’s just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. He’s breathless as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

You let out a soft, unsure laugh. “Is that Law talking, or Sora?”

He brushes his nose against yours. “It’s all me. It always has been.”

You can’t help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldn’t hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you can’t say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.

“Can I move?” There’s a whine to his voice. “Please.”

“Please do,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together. 

He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.

“You don’t have to hold back, Law. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

He struggles to speak through his self control. “I want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.” Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. “I want this to be as good as it can be for you.”

“This is–ahh!–already better than I’d ever dreamed, Law.”

One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. “Not good enough,” he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands. 

You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s alright. You’re doing great. I won’t take it from you again, I promise.” His voice is filled with pity. “You’ve been so good, you can take what you want now.” He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.

You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.

“Was it worth the wait?” He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.

“It was worth everything and more.” You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. 

You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. “Agreed.” He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. “I just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.

“Alright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, don’t you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.”

You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. “I really didn’t think you liked me,” you mutter sleepily. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

“I could say the same,” he murmurs into your hair.

You laugh. “Shachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.”

“They are?”

“They’ve been trying to tell me for years, and they don’t get to tell me I told you so very often.”

“They were telling you too?” He laughs. “We could have done this months ago if we’d just believed them.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. “You’re worth the wait, though.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. “Yeah. So are you.”

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay 

[azrealini]

I think you're right about this being made to show off because, speaking from a nursing perspective, this thing would be a nightmare for patients and providers trying to give care. Some things I noticed were:

Patients who want to transfer from their bed to their chair can't do so on their own anymore. There's no armrest for them to support their own weight on if they're capable of self-transfers.

The aforementioned lack of support is a major issue; this wouldn't even be comfortable for an able-bodied person because you're constantly relying on your core strength and balance to move around. This would get uncomfortable and exhausting after a while.

Patients with a weakened core are not going to be able to steer this at all, and no one would be able to help them either because, well, no back or handles.

It seems difficult to steer, and you'd have to lean pretty far to steer it, which isn't going to work for people with musculoskeletal or neurological diagnoses. Hell, even the two people in this video seemed to have difficulty maneuvering it; notice how the video edits out the little cone agility course they set up.

It's large and cumbersome, making it hard for anyone to maneuver if they're not sitting in it. That means if, say, a patient wants to reposition it to get in more easily, they won't be able to do that. Would anyone be able to reposition it without needing to sit in it? It doesn't seem like you can.

Speaking of getting in it, I'd be terrified of a patient leaning too far back into it and falling right out of the chair. It's also pretty high up compared to a normal wheelchair, so they'd be falling backward onto their head from a higher point.

While the chair itself is large, the seat is actually pretty small. Very thin people would be able to sit in this chair but what about the other large percentage of wheelchair users who're overweight?

These are just what I could think of immediately off the top of my head, and I'm sure other things would make this dangerous. If this was made for anyone to actually use, it'd probably be the most able-bodied person who may have broken a leg, and, even then, this would be much more impractical than a pair of crutches. This was literally just Honda saying "Look what we can do!" with technology that's been around for years with hoverboards and wouldn't be suitable/usable for anyone. The people who'd buy and use this are the same people who'd drive a cybertruck.

[dissapointu]

can you do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner dressed up in a very attractive Halloween costume??

Oh fuck yeah-

Jinx

Jinx’s eyes would light up the second she saw you in your costume, her usual chaotic energy intensifying. She’d let out a loud gasp and then immediately break into an excited, manic laugh. “You look SO awesome!” she’d shout, unable to contain herself. She’d likely run over to you, her hands all over you, admiring the details of your outfit, pulling at the fabric with excitement. “How’d you do that? Can I steal your look?!” She’d probably try to get you to show off for her, demanding that you do a little twirl or model the costume from different angles, all while giggling like a maniac. But under her craziness, there would be a look of absolute admiration—she’s so into you in that costume.

Vi

Vi would pause for a second, her jaw dropping slightly as she tries to take in just how stunning you look. Her usual tough, no-nonsense demeanor would falter, her face turning a little red as she stammers, “W-wow… you look… incredible.” She’d be awestruck but also very proud to have you on her arm, the protective streak in her coming out as she immediately takes a step closer, wanting to keep you to herself. Her eyes would constantly flicker over you, her mind not entirely focusing on anything else for the moment. “I—I mean, damn, you’re looking real good,” she’d murmur, though she’d be blushing the entire time.

Sevika

Sevika’s reaction would be more subtle, but no less intense. Her eyes would scan your costume slowly, and she’d give a low whistle. “Not bad, not bad at all.” She’d try to maintain her usual cool, aloof demeanor, but there would be a heat in her gaze, and her usual sarcastic smirk would soften into something more appreciative. “I could get used to seeing you like this,” she’d say, her voice low and husky. She’d likely pull you close to her, hands resting possessively on your waist. She may even get a little possessive, keeping you close and making sure no one else gets too close. “Just remember, you’re with me tonight.”

Silco

Silco would have a bit of a calculated reaction, but the desire and admiration in his eyes would be impossible to miss. He’d raise an eyebrow and observe you carefully, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?” he’d say in his usual low, smooth voice, his eyes dark with approval. He wouldn’t openly gush like Jinx, but his attention would be fixed solely on you, and he would make a point to remind you how incredible you look. “I hope you realize you’ve just made it impossible for anyone else to compare.” His words would carry a mix of appreciation and possessiveness, his arm quickly wrapping around your waist as he pulls you in for a kiss, marking you as his.

Vander

Vander would be the gentle, protective type who’s taken by surprise at how gorgeous you look. His eyes would widen for a brief second, but then he’d soften, a proud, almost fatherly smile forming on his face. “Well, don’t you look beautiful,” he’d say, his tone warm and sincere. He’d reach out to hold your hand, giving it a tender squeeze, making sure you feel cared for and appreciated. He’d be protective but in a way that was full of respect, as if he were holding onto a precious gem that he didn’t want to lose. “I’m lucky to have you,” he’d add quietly, his eyes full of love.

Ekko

Ekko would likely grin the second he saw you, his face lighting up with genuine excitement. “Damn, [Y/N], you’re lookin’ fire!” he’d say, his voice filled with admiration and a touch of disbelief. His hands would immediately reach out to pull you closer, eyes scanning every inch of your costume. “You know, you’re making it hard to focus on anything else when you look that good.” He’d probably tease you a little, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. “You sure you can handle this much attention?” His excitement and affection would be clear, but he’d also be a bit shy about how stunning you look, maybe hiding a slight blush under his usually cool demeanor.

Jayce

Jayce would be all over the place, his usual charming self kicked into overdrive. His face would light up with a huge grin, and he’d immediately start complimenting you with unrestrained enthusiasm. “Well, I must say, I’m impressed,” he’d say, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “You look absolutely amazing.” His hands would hover around you, unsure if he should touch you or just admire from afar. “How did you even manage to look this good?” he’d ask, his voice almost in awe. His excitement would be contagious, and he’d definitely make sure you knew that you were the star of the show tonight.

Viktor

Viktor would take a more reserved approach, his eyes immediately locking on you as soon as you entered the room. His usually analytical mind would be momentarily overwhelmed by the sight of you in such an attractive costume. He’d take a slow, appreciative breath, unable to hide the slight smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… quite striking,” he’d say, his voice soft and sincere, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He’d try to keep his composure, but the way he kept glancing at you would betray his fascination. “It’s hard to concentrate on anything else when you look like this,” he’d admit, stepping a little closer, his hand gently reaching for yours.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be the picture of elegance, but underneath her calm and composed exterior, she would definitely be stunned. She’d take a moment to collect herself before offering you a sincere smile. “You look absolutely radiant,” she’d say, her voice soft with affection. Her hands would reach out to touch you, a subtle sign of how much she appreciated the way you looked. She’d tease you a bit, a playful glint in her eyes. “I hope you don’t mind all the attention you’re about to get. You look too good to be ignored.” Her protective instincts would kick in, but it would come across as sweet, not possessive—she just wants to keep you all to herself.

Mel Medarda

Mel would observe you with a cool, composed gaze at first, but underneath her calculated demeanor, she would be very impressed. “You look stunning,” she’d say, her voice smooth and confident. She’d circle around you, eyes appraising every detail of your costume, and you could tell by the way her eyes lingered on you that she was enjoying what she saw. “You always know how to turn heads.” She’d pull you close, her lips curling into a small smile as she whispered, “And you’ll turn mine tonight, too.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be unapologetically intense in her reaction. Her sharp eyes would flicker over you, assessing every inch of your costume with a predatory gaze that made your heart race. “You’re dangerous,” she’d say, her voice deep and commanding, as if your appearance had just elevated you to something beyond ordinary. She’d step closer, her presence almost overwhelming as she lightly grazed your cheek. “No one else will compare to you tonight,” she’d whisper, her tone full of possessive heat. She’d pull you in for a kiss that would leave you breathless, a silent promise of what the night would bring.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would immediately smile, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Wow, you look amazing,” she’d say, her voice warm and full of admiration. She’d instantly walk up to you, giving you a playful look. “You’re going to have to fend off all the other admirers now,” she’d tease, though it’s clear she only has eyes for you. She’d probably touch your arm or your waist, her hands lingering just enough to make you feel her affection. “Lucky for me, I’m the one who gets to be with you tonight.”

Lest

Lest’s reaction would be a mix of curiosity and delight. Her cat-like eyes would widen as she took in your costume, and her tail would flick with excitement. She’d approach you slowly, her hands almost instinctively reaching out to trace the fabric or any details of your costume. “Mmm, you’re quite the sight,” she’d purr, her voice soft and sensual. “I might have to be careful not to get too distracted by how irresistible you look.” She’d give you a playful wink, her feline nature making her extra touchy-feely as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours in a gesture that felt more affectionate than anything.

[obxsummer]

i still need you // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: late night conversations turn ugly, jj sets off on an adventure with his dad, and an SOS text leads to a life stopping moment for john b.

warnings: nothing you haven’t seen in obx before

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

--

JJ Maybank loved you. 

If everything else in the world was suddenly a lie, that statement would remain true. JJ Maybank loved you so much, he swore it was the only thing he was good at. 

He never realized how valuable it was to have someone so in tune with his every motion, his every thought and reaction. You were always there no matter what was going on, and you always knew how to handle it.

He was trying. He was trying really hard to give you that same effort, that same love and attention you gave him every time, but he had to admit that he was struggling. What was supposed to be a simple trip to the bathroom was slowly turning into the worst conversation of his life, and as he watched your walls crash in front of him, he didn’t know what to do.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question had you flying out of the hammock and back into the bedroom before you could even get a word out. JJ was standing in the bathroom doorway, Sarah’s capped pregnancy test in his hand. Your heart fell to your ass and you just stared at him.

“Babe?”

You shook your head, tears forming faster than you wished when you realized you’d been so unfair to him. “JJ, I gotta talk to you.”

“Are you pregnant?” He repeated the question much quieter, his tone still soft and careful as he approached. 

You shook your head again. “No. It’s not mine.”

JJ nodded, his gaze dropping to the two lines on the test as he stared at it. “Then…?”

“Sarah’s.”

There was a sense of relief that overtook him, but part of him was also sad. Starting a family with you is something JJ had been hesitant about, especially with his own paternal history. He didn’t know if he could fix the curse of his dad’s behavior. Both of his so called fathers' behavior, actually. 

“Would… Would you-”

“I can’t have kids.”

JJ blinked and looked up at you. “Huh?”

You crossed your arms over your chest protectively. “Because of everything… with- with Rafe. They said there’s…it’s not impossible but it’s extremely high risk and unlikely.” 

When he was silent, you knew this was a dealbreaker. You should’ve told him, given him a chance to run before he put a ring on your finger and gave all this effort to you.

“I know I should’ve told you, so if…if you want this back, it’s okay. I don’t blame you if you wanna act like this never happened, but I’m sorry and-”

“Shut up.” The command sent you silent as you stopped pulling the ring from your finger, eyes going wide in shock. JJ shook his head in disbelief and you were somehow so terrified of what he was going to say. This could very well be the end of everything you’d been through all because you couldn’t be honest with him. 

“You… you think I would leave you? Over this?” JJ’s emotions were getting the best of him now and he couldn’t pull his gaze from your teary one. “I have your initials inked into my skin. Do you really think I would do that?”

You shrugged. “I’m not… I’m just giving you an out. Incase you want it.”

“Why would I ever want that?” He was much louder now and you almost took a step back before reminding yourself that this was JJ, your JJ. “Why would I ever leave you over something you can’t control? Sweetheart, I love you more than anything. If you wanted kids, fine, we would have them. But if you didn’t, or you couldn’t, that��s okay. I’m not willing to risk losing you over some annoying ass toddler that messes up all my shit for a handful of years.”

He pointed the small pink stick in your direction, his own eyes wet as his frustration carried into his tone. You knew it wasn’t directed at your actions, rather the way your head had been handling everything, but it still felt weird. “Don’t you ever, and I mean ever hide something like this from me just because your head is telling you, I don’t want you. Because-”

The door slammed open at the worst opportunity possible, both you and JJ turning to see Sarah and John B looking back. You gasped at them, knowing everything probably looked and sounded so wrong. “Oh, fuck.”

“It’s mine!” Sarah practically yelled, running forward to grab the test from JJ’s hand as she stood in front of him at her full height. “It’s mine, okay? And drop the fucking tone with her, JJ. You have no idea what she’s been through and-”

“Hey, it’s-” John B held a hand in front of you when you went to intercept Sarah. JJ’s eyes were wide at the words coming out of the girl’s mouth but he didn’t argue back with her. 

“Sarah, he didn’t-” 

She turned to hold a finger to you before continuing to lay into JJ. “If you so much as think about saying another nasty word to her, I’ll cut your dick off in your sleep. I swear to God, JJ, you have-”

“He wasn’t doing anything!” You blurted out when her threat became a little too realistic for your liking. “We were talking, okay and-”

“He was yelling-”

“Because I was being selfish!” You snapped at John B, frustration and emotion boiling over. “I should’ve told him everything a while ago, and I didn’t. This is on me, okay? Leave him alone.”

Three sets of eyes watched you carefully as you laid the most vulnerable pieces of you out for them to see. 

“It’s my fault,” You nearly broke there, a breathy hiccup escaping as you tried to keep it calm. “I don’t want the pity. I don’t need it. I should’ve fought back against him, tried to defend myself more but I-”

John B shook his head, his voice breaking as he whispered your name. 

You ignored him and looked straight at JJ. “He ruined the best thing I could ever give you. You deserved the chance to correct all the things your dad did to you, the things he put you through. All I wanted was to give you everything you never had, to be everything you never had because you deserve that and so much more. And I let Rafe Cameron of all people ruin me… I’m ruined for you.”

You felt like you were witnessing a slow motion car crash. All of your nightmares had consisted of one thing: losing. Losing JJ, losing your friends, losing yourself. You felt like it was coming to life in front of you.

“I can’t do this.”

Stabbing you in the heart would’ve hurt less than JJ’s statement, but you had to accept it. You gave him an out and he was taking it. Part of you wanted him to blame you because it would at least give you some confirmation on what he was thinking. All you could do was nod and look at the floor. You’d finally done it, you’d manage to push away the one person who knew you inside and out and you only had yourself to blame.

“I can’t sit here and let you think a single word of that is true.” JJ pulled at his hair. God, you looked so broken in front of him and he couldn’t believe this whole night was turning in this direction. He crossed the room to hold your face in his hands, heart breaking at the tears on your cheeks and the way you shivered from his touch.  “I’ve told you time and time again that you’re everything to me. I don’t give a flying fuck if you walked out of that whole nightmare with one eyeball and four fingers on one hand. You walked out and you’re still here. That’s what matters. You are and you will continue to be my entire world. I told you tonight, and I will continue to tell you every single day if that’s what you need.” 

“And you’re the furthest thing from ruined.” Sarah reminded you that she was in the room, John B crying behind her as they watched the scene from a small distance. “God, you’re literally perfect. A great boyfriend, a great brother, amazing friends. You’re so kind and selfless, and you’re so dedicated to each and every one of us in ways that nobody else is. I give you one look and you’re already on the same wavelength as me without a word. I’m not going to stand here and watch the future godmother and favorite aunt of my child think so negatively about herself when she is easily one of the best things in each of our lives.”

JJ was there to catch you when you sobbed, your whole body nearly collapsing in relief that he knew everything now, that you weren’t carrying what felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders. 

“I suck at sappy shit, everyone c’mere.” John B managed to pull a laugh out of the group, the four of you hugging each other tightly in the middle of your bedroom like the world around didn’t exist. Sarah, John B, and JJ had seen the worst pieces of you and still loved you unconditionally. It was time to get out of your head and embrace it, no matter how much you wanted to hide away. 

“Now that that’s over with… you’re fucking pregnant?!”

--

The chaos of the night finally settled down enough after JJ expressed his excitement for John B and Sarah. He didn’t hesitate to guide you to bed shortly after, mumble apologies being shared that tonight didn’t go differently, but you reassured him you had forever to celebrate it. Sarah eventually curled up next to you, the two of you in a fitful sleep for as long as you could while the boys stayed up to keep an eye on Groff.

Sarah was scrolling on her phone when you woke up a few hours later. She looked over her case to smile at you as you groaned loudly and stretched. 

“Are you and John B actually going to apply for a marriage license?” Your voice was raspy as you spoke, your eyes meeting hers as you shifted on your side to look at her.

She dropped her phone to the comforter. “I think so, unless he changed his mind from yesterday. That was the plan.”

You nodded, a small smile growing on your face. “Are you nervous?”

Sarah let out a breathy laugh. “Hardly. I just can’t believe all the shit that happened in the last 24 hours.”

The two of you conversed for a few moments longer before climbing out of bed to get ready for the day. While Sarah busied herself finding a cute white dress (one of her own, this time), you quickly changed and did your morning routine before settling in to help her curl her hair.

“Ready?” You asked as she slipped her shoes on and turned off the light. She nodded, grabbing your hand to pull you down the stairs. Cleo was eating a sandwich in the kitchen and looked up as you entered.

“Don’t tell me I’m losing another one today?” Her eyebrow raised in curiosity as Sarah practically skipped outside.

“We have to share the same last name for a little bit, right?” You winked in her direction, the pieces falling together before she shook her head jokingly.

JJ, Pope, and John B were already outside, apparently packing the Twinkie to head to Larissa’s grave with Groff. Your brother was literally pacing a path into the grass, his head snapping up as Sarah stepped off the porch with a tiny squeal.

“Let’s make this quick,” JJ was oblivious to the couple next to you and rubbed at his face to wake himself up. 

You hid your smile behind your hand as John B and Sarah stared at each other for a moment, both of them red in the face as she finally reached your brother’s side.

“Hey, we’re gonna get out of your hair, actually,” John B’s voice was so absentminded as he kept his eyes on Sarah, completely disregarding JJ’s confused look. He pointed in your general direction as he took her hand. “Love you, see you in a few. Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shifted into your fiancé’s shoulder, his arm falling around you as he took in the duo for the first time this morning. Pope gave you a confused glance to which you just held up your left hand and pointed to the ring on your finger. He nodded, much easier to communicate wordlessly with than JJ would be. 

“I, uh, okay?” JJ’s confusion made you laugh as Sarah and John B disappeared around the side of the house without a word, small talk being shared between the two of them as they made their way down the dock. He turned to look at you and clocked the smile on your face. “Something to share with the class?”

You shook your head, pushing up on your toes to kiss him. “Not in the slightest. You ready to go?”

JJ glanced between the Twinkie and the porch where Groff was getting to his feet. “How about you stay here with the girls and Pope? I… this is my mom. I feel like it should be personal, you know?”

You glared at him. “What did John B say?”

The way he took a step back already told you the answer. “No, nothing. Nothing, I just think I should give this a shot, on my own, you know?”

“JJ, I swear-”

He grabbed your shoulders carefully. “I love you. And if shit goes south, I can’t risk having you in danger with me not being able to help. So, please. Stay here, with them, and I’ll be back. Okay?”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” You admitted quietly, your hand grabbing on his wrist. You weren’t so convinced by his reasoning and with Groff giving you weird vibes, you really didn’t like this idea. “Be careful? I know he’s supposedly your dad and all but…”

JJ nodded in understanding, his eyes catching on someone behind you. “Told you I’ll always come home to you, and I mean it. Love you, sweet girl.”

He kissed you softly, hand slipping from your shoulder to hold your neck gently. You hummed in satisfaction, your fingers grabbing his flannel to pull him slightly closer. 

“Alright, lovebirds.” Groff’s voice ruined your goodbye as he stopped next to you. Pulling away from JJ, you gave the man a sharp glare, unamused by his comments and whatever assumed power he thought he had over JJ. 

Rolling your eyes, you gave JJ one more kiss. “Love you, please be careful.” 

You stepped away from him to head back inside, but an unfamiliar hand landed on your shoulder, stopping your retreat. You turned back to Groff, looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and removed his hand, pointing down at the ring on your finger. “I…um. I always wanted a daughter, Larissa did too. I’m glad you’ll be joining our family one day.”

The disgust on your face was very evident as you stared back at him, forcing a nod. “Yeah, considering you gave away your own son, I’m finding that hard to believe.”

Groff gave you a short nod before turning to climb into the Twinkie’s passenger seat as JJ slammed the door of the driver’s side. You shook your head as the van started and drove away, the sinking feeling in your stomach building with each passing moment. 

“You feel the same way I do about this?” Pope asked as he joined your side, the two of you watching the van disappear out on the road.

You sighed, “We shouldn’t have let him go alone. That man is the biggest manipulator if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Now all we can do is wait and hope he comes back, preferably without that pathetic excuse for a man.”

--

While JJ busied himself adventuring with his dad, Pope and Cleo went out to grab gas for the boats with the remainder of the five grand down payment Wes Genrette had given. You and Kiara busied yourselves trying to get some items together for the potential trip to Morocco (if it happened) but mostly trying to downsize to what could be taken to Ward’s rental condo. The property was left in Sarah’s name, thankfully away from Rose’s evil claws, so your group could try to wiggle in as best as possible, but the three bedroom condo was no match for your family of seven, and soon to be a baby.

“I’m gonna grab supplies and shit from outside,” You said with a huff, brushing the sweat from your forehead. “Be right back.”

Kie was head first in making sandwiches and food to take along, so you dipped out of the room by yourself. The wind was refreshing, blowing across your skin as the two of you headed into the store area to collect your items. 

You grabbed a handful of first aid items, shoving them in your worn backpack with as much organization as you could muster. 

Humming along to the music on your phone, you moved fluidly to grab random supplies from the walls, figuring the store wouldn’t need them much anyway considering the property wasn’t yours soon.

Something moved in your peripheral and you turned to see the Twinkie parked outside again. A small frown formed on your face; you didn’t think JJ and Groff would be back that quick. Walking out, you glanced to catch sight of the blond boy but came up short. 

“Babe?” You called out, heading toward the driver side in case they were still talking inside. Except, they weren’t. Nobody was inside, actually. “JJ?”

You spun on your heels in hopes of him popping out, but still no sight of him. Setting your course to the house in hopes that he’d be there instead, you were met with Chandler Groff popping out of the side door in what looked like a hurry.

Stopping, you crossed your arms and glared at him. “Can I help you?”

He had the tube containing the scroll in his hand, and motioned toward it. “Uh, hi. I uh, I just came to grab the scroll to make sure it’s not just the artifact from the mausoleum.”

His rushed tone told you there was more to the story but you nodded. “Mhmm, um. Where’s JJ?”

“Oh, he stayed behind at the family plot. He sent me to retrieve this. I thought I’d give him some time alone, you know?” He took a few steps toward you, that you immediately repeated in the opposite direction to put some distance back. Any further and you’d be against the Twinkie and out of options.

You dug your fingers into your arm. “He certainly got his lying skills from Luke because I don’t believe you in the slightest.”

Groff laughed but you could tell it was forced. “Well, you hardly know me, of course you aren’t going to believe me. You can ask your friend in there… uh Kiara is it? She seemed fine with the idea.”

“Oh so you won’t mind if I just call him, then?” You reached into your pocket where your phone was still playing music.

“Yeah, yeah you should. You should call him. He’ll confirm. Go ahead.”

Your back hit the metal of the van as Groff continued to push into your space. You glanced down, swiping for the FaceID to activate and unlock before completely bypassing checking JJ’s location and instead pressing the lock buttom twice. Times like these you really thanked Sarah for helping you set up the shortcuts she did.

All it took was that one split second before Groff’s hands were shoving you and your head collided with the window of the Twinkie, glass shattering from the impact. Your phone slipped from your hands and you gasped, knees giving out as you grabbed your head in pain.

“Kie!” The scream tore through your throat but was cut off as Groff grabbed your throat and yanked you off the ground. 

Panic set in instantly, all of your senses blurring as images of Rafe flashed in front of you. You struggled to get air in your lungs and gasped, hands shoving and feet kicking like it would do you any good.

One last hit to your head, and the sweet dark relief took over.

Then silence.

--

You weren’t sure if you were awake.

There had been moments like this in the past when you were at the Camerons’, so blissed and drugged out that you couldn’t tell the difference from reality or hallucinations. Like a sensory tank, there was no light or noise. Just you and your racing thoughts and the loud thump of your heart in your ears.

Here you were, all over again. No sense of where you were, what had happened, or who was around. You could barely breathe and the hefty duct tape on your mouth stole your inability to speak. The sharp bite of pain when you tried to move was thanks to zip ties that were too tight, and you realized how utterly stuck you were.

The tears came first, followed by the hyperventilating. You tried running through the methods they taught you in therapy, the counting, the timed breathing. JJ’s voice was echoing in your head to keep your airways open and not clench your hands but JJ wasn’t here, you couldn’t move, and one of your main airways was not an option.

An attempted cry left your body, but you doubted anyone could hear it. It was so muffled and quiet that it might as well have been a whisper in a concert arena. 

You were going to die. You were going to die here, alone, with nothing but the thoughts in your head to keep you company. You hoped Kiara was okay. Hoped that none of your friends would be the ones to find you, if they even could. 

The tears were unstoppable now, small sobs escaping as you tried to pull air in your lungs but it was getting harder. It felt like someone’s hand squeezing around your throat.

Tighter, tighter, tighter.

Gone.

--

Kiara was a stranger to what it felt like being knocked unconscious. Hell, the closest she’s ever gotten was because of Pope nearly concussing her with an ore a couple of weeks ago. It was never from being punched in the head and colliding with the table.

The headache was killer, enough to send her vision swaying but she forced herself to her feet. “Ah, fuck.” Her fingers poked the area where the pain was radiating, but no blood came back so she considered that a good sign. 

“Kie!” 

John B’s scream was not a good one, and it was enough to get her moving out of the house to see him sprinting across the yard with Pope, Cleo, and Sarah close behind. 

“What’s happening?” Her voice was much quieter than she expected as the all moved toward her. Pope’s hands were gentle as they hovered her face, taking in the bruising on her cheek.

“What happened to you?” Cleo asked, wincing at the injury.

Kiara shook her head, “I can’t… just give me a second.”

“Where is she?” John B asked, eyes scanning the entire ground. He was on the verge of screaming or crying, or shit maybe he needed to throw up. “The SOS text came from her phone, fro-from the shortcut, where is she?”

“John B!” Sarah picked up the device in question that was resting in the grass near the van, the music still playing from it loud enough that she could hear.

The sight of your case made his heart drop. “Shit, stay here. Check the house,” He directed toward Pope and Cleo, practically sprinting toward Sarah.

“It seems fine,” She commented, “Music still on and everything. Maybe she did it accidentally?”

Except, John B wasn’t looking at the phone in Sarah’s hand. His eyes were locked on the nearly shattered window behind her head, a window that hadn’t been fucked up before. Sarah noticed his silence and looked over her shoulder, the broken glass answer enough that no you didn’t do this accidentally.

John B yelled your name again, nothing following his call, so he took off running into the shop with hopes that maybe you would be there. If Kiara was in the house, chances were, you weren’t.

Except the shop was empty, besides your backpack resting on the counter with various shit scattered around it.

“Is she in here?” Sarah asked as she ran up behind John B, her eyes scanning the room for any sight of you. “John B?”

“What the fuck?” You brother tugged at his hair and moved to where your bag was sitting as he tried to look for any clue, anything, that would tell him where you were. “No, no, no. We can’t do this again. I-I.. I told her I’d never let something like this happen, what if-”

“John B, John B, hey!” Sarah grabbed his face as gently as possibly. “Do not lose your shit. Not right now. She needs you, okay?”

His hands were fucking shaking and suddenly, this was too scary for him. Something had happened, and now you were missing.

“Look, look. I’ll get you a water and we can see if Kie remembers anything okay? It’s probably a miscommunication and-” Sarah turned toward the red Coca-Cola cooler that usually housed the ice for cold drinks and stopped short at the screw driver wrenched between one of the closures. “Did you lock this?”

John B pulled his hand from his face to look at what she was referring to. “What? No, we never…”

Sarah ripped the screwdriver out in a second, flipping the latch to unlock the lid so she could pry it open. “John B!”

The Routledge boy jumped forward to look and nearly threw up his breakfast. “Move, move!”

Reaching down, he grabbed ahold of your unmoving body, your skin so pale and cold that he didn’t know what to do. His knees hit the ground hard as he laid you down, hands moving to shake you. “Wake up, hey. Wake up!”

Sarah called your name, her touch gentle as she pulled the duct tape off your mouth, but you still didn’t move. “John B, she’s not breathing!”

“Pope, help!” 

Like a series of deja vu, John B’s hands went to your chest to push down harshly, the rhythmic movement too familiar for comfort. Sarah had been in this same position under his hands before, a gunshot wound to her hip and barely enough blood to keep her alive. John B never wanted to do this again, and he sure as shit never wanted to do it to you.

“Pinch her nose, and breathe in her mouth,” He gasped out in an attempt to keep the sobs at bay. “Pope!”

Sarah followed the directions, pinching your nose and opening your mouth to push air back into your lungs. She was shaking, barely able to see through her tears. 

A series of footsteps came seconds later, and Pope swore his whole world stopped at the sight ahead of him. You, his practically adopted sister, lying still on the floor as John B attempted CPR. Kiara nearly screamed, and Cleo stood in shock as Pope flung forward to take over the compressions with more confidence and precision.

“Go, again,” He directed to Sarah as John B tumbled back against the counter in shock. Pope started his compressions again, keeping his count outloud. 

Kiara stumbled to your brother’s side, wrapping her arms around him as they stared on, horrified. Cleo moved to grab scissors, her careful movement cutting the zip ties from your ankles as Pope continued to put pressure on your chest.

And then you coughed. 

And Pope fell into a fit of tears. Removing his hands from your chest, he fell back on his ass in what felt like exhaustion. 

“Aye! You okay?” Cleo was trying to keep a level head but the way her heart was pounding against her chest told her otherwise. She’d never been so close to losing someone, not like this. She carefully snipped the remaining ziptie and your hands instantly reached for Sarah, who cried into your hair and helped you sit up.

Despite your wishes, you couldn’t get your voice to work and opted for nodding instead. Your throat ached and your head felt like it was going to shatter into pieces, and you were so, so cold.

“Holy shit,” Pope choked out as he watched you blink and your own chest move air into your body. Your head was reeling at all of their concern and voices so you closed your eyes and continued to focus on just evening out the flow of air. 

John B ripped himself out of Kiara’s arms and next to Sarah the second he got a grasp on what the fuck just happened. “Hey, hi. You’re okay. It’s okay now.”

You reached out to grab John B’s hand, squeezing enough to let him know you could hear him and were responsive. Sarah’s warmth left your side a moment after and John B easily took her place, his arms cradling you against him like you were a small child as he cried into your hair. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you blinked your eyes open to see Pope sitting in front of you with Cleo rubbing his shoulder soothingly, Kie leaning against his side. He quickly brushed the tears from his cheeks but it already told you everything. 

You mouthed a thank you and cuddled in closer to John B’s chest, opting to just breathe breathe breathe.

You weren’t sure what the fuck had just happened, but it seemed like your friends were about to have one crazy ass story to tell. 

-- 

John B did not let you out of his sight. 

After carrying you back to the house and directing Sarah to help you into your warmest sweatshirt and sweatpants, he looked to Kiara for answers.

The girl’s brainfog had thankfully cleared and she was about to recount Groff showing up, claiming he and JJ found the lens and needed the scroll. When Kiara asked where her friend was, Groff knocked her out, which meant her intercepted you next.

Nobody wanted to ask questions, but the SOS text on their phone screens was hard to pull their eyes off of.

When everyone had phones replaced following El Dorado, Sarah had made sure to set up a shortcut that sent an SOS text with a location to the group chat in case of an emergency. She hoped it would never be used, but she was so thankful you thought quick enough to use it in this situation. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if not.

“Here.” She handed you an warm cup of tea with honey in hopes that it would help soothe the soreness in your throat but the handprint outside on your skin told her otherwise. After helping you crawl under the covers, she sent a quick text to John B that you were settled before the group came tumbling in. 

Your brother instantly threw himself next to you near the top of the best, shifting so you could lean against him and he could keep a hand on your arm at all times. Kiara took your other side, sitting crisscross as she held an ice pack to her head. 

“Y’all are dramatic,” Your voice was practically gone as you joked with them before taking another sip of your tea.

“And you sound like you smoke six packs a day,” Cleo chimed back with a teasing smile on her face. “Save your voice, girly. We got you.”

You gave her a weak smile.

The next twenty minutes consisted of everyone sharing what the fuck had happened in the past few hours. Pope and Cleo nearly got wiped out by Kelce which caused them to collide with Sarah and John B who had been running from Topper and Ruthie. Kiara took a gnarly blow to the head like you did, and JJ was still absent from the group.

Splendid. 

“So, what? Groff left with the map and lens and JJ’s still with him?” Pope recounted as he started to pace the floor. 

Your calls to JJ had been ignored and considering he didn’t show up with the SOS text, you were really worried Groff had gotten to him. Your fingers moved across the screen to pull up his location again and you dropped it on the center of the bed so your friends could see his location pinging from the middle of the ocean.

Turning to John B, you tried to communicate with your hands that you all needed to leave, but he was unamused. “No, no. You’re not leaving this room, let alone this house any time soon. You hear me? Grounded.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the comforter to open your notes app and type away. 

Then you guys need to go. If something happens to him and I’m the reason you didn’t go, I’ll never forgive myself. 

You shoved the device in John B’s direction, watching as he skimmed the words before shaking his head slightly. Annoyed by his silence, you moved it over so Sarah could read it instead.

“She’s got a point, John B. We need to go.”

John B took a look around the room, everyone’s expressions matching Sarah’s as they read the message on your phone. He hated this, the thought of pulling you out of a safe space after he just nearly broke your ribs from the force of his own hands because you weren’t breathing.

“Fine, fine,” He admitted defeat when even Cleo nudged her head in the direction of the water. “Go get your shit. I need to talk to this one first.”

Your eyes were going to get stuck in the back of your head if you rolled them again so you just sighed and flopped against the pillows as everyone scattered. Sarah patted your knee through the covers, reassuring she’d grab your backpack and everything before slipping out the door, leaving you with your brother.

You quickly typed on your phone as John B watched you.

I’m not arguing with you via notes app, bro.

He laughed and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don’t wanna argue. Just um…” He let out a breath, tears filling his eyes faster than he intended. “You really scared me, out there. And I don’t like the idea of you getting thrown back into danger, but the idea of leaving you here is even worse. So I need you… I really need you to promise me something.”

John B shifted to sit where you could see him easier and not strain your neck looking up at him. He grabbed the phone from your hand and let it fall, taking both of your palms into his. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stick with Sarah. And you won’t go throwing yourself in front of anyone if it comes to it. You… you both mean way too much for me to lose you to a stupid fucking treasure hunt. Okay?”

You squeezed his hands and nodded, because it’s really all you could do. So you did.

And now, you needed to find JJ… but nothing was ever that simple for you all, was it?

--

a/n: did i redeem myself??? also john b is not over what just happened and i think another crashout is coming

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

[azuriiarts]

If there is one thing that I wish the entirety of gravity falls' fandom all knew is that Ford was not trying to separate Dipper and Mabel before weirdmageddon. Especially not for a dumb reason like "He's self projecting onto them too hard"

Because

1) Mabel resembling Stan??? Not only is every cannon interaction between them positive, but even if Mabel reminds him of Stan, she would remind him of the version of Stan that didn't ruin his future, just the version that liked fun and cared. The version he very dearly misses.

2) Where in the show does it indicate he doesn't apprentice her for such a reason?? Is it just headcannon?

Because one thing the show makes abundantly clear is that Ford has major trust issues due to his trauma. I wouldn't blame him, as his main and really only support system after Fiddleford's portal incident ended up wanting to tear his world apart due to their strong denial. That is a tangent I won't be getting into. BUT the show could not make it clearer he has difficulty trusting.

The reason he would want to apprentice Dipper is because he showed him a deep paranoia that he also shared, and since Ford learned that paranoia is good as it keeps you alive from Bill, this is a great thing. That's why he praises Dipper for almost memory wiping him, as he saw Dipper capable of defending himself against Bill Cypher's manipulation. Also, in the episode that Ford proposes that Dipper should be his apprentice, Dipper also proved he could handle highly dangerous situations, meaning he could handle some of the things Ford learned to handle. Dipper showed Ford he could be trusted as he wouldn't get manipulated by Bill or be killed by the environment.

Mabel, while he really likes that kid, is very emotional and empathetic. One thought I could very easily see Ford thinking is "Mabel could very easily be manipulated by Bill Cypher" She might have the physical might (refer to the mabelcorn episode) but it alone cannot protect her from Bill, as he is a MANIPULATOR. What if he reveals information to her that could be fuel to Bill's manipulation? Being Ford's apprentice would mean that you are likely to deal with Bill too because he just won't stop tormenting him, and saw that Dipper was the only one that could truly handle the dangers of Bill Cypher. If Bill somehow possesses him, he knows Dipper would do the right thing, and he knows Mabel would hesitate.

Separating them was a consequence he didn't forsee as his reasoning for offering apprenticeship to Dipper had nothing to do with the twins' relationship, and it would make Mabel trusting BlendinBill because Ford told nothing to Mabel that much more thematically better. The show is about trust, and due to Ford's lack of trust in his family, it ended up endangering them.

Tell me, what is more satisfying? Ford maliciously trying to create a gap between the twins for no good reason or a traumatised Ford with trust issues learning to trust? THE ENTIRETY OF THE WEIRDMAGEDDON TRILOGY IS ABOUT TRUST, WHY WOULD IT BE KICK-STARTED BY ANYTHING THAT ISN'T TRUST RELATED?????

[yuqsdug]

In the one (1) Block Tales comic i've made so far, I drew the player as this R15 model Noob with modern day Roblox chat. Since blocktales can have four (4) players in a battle, I decided to draw the rest of the sqaud.

OBLIGATORY SEBASTIAN SOLICE

Drew him from memory

READ MORE ABOUT THESE BLOCK TALES CHARACTERS? down below

So you want to know more about these goobers hm?

[Player] (yes that's his name)

- Despite his very cheerful demeanor, he can make grudges extremely easy.

- He's the only one of the squad who talks in modern chat bubbles. Something must've went wrong when he time traveled.

- He still uses R15 because he didn't want to lose his elbows. He needs those to throw balls, Okay?!

- He may, possibly, be abusing the ghost Walker for meaningless- and legally dubious- means. He's not paying for a 777 tix card!

- Was the only who got to experience the later half demo 3. He was quite surprised to be in a hospital after defeating IT. His friends were hovering woriedly over his bed.

- Hatred was particularly strong in this one.

BaconBoy

- Brother of BaconGirl

- Quite a skitish boy, Easily scared. He did not like Telamon's manor ONE BIT!

- the time when his model type was added to Roblox left quite an impact on him. Why were people so mean?

- he forgot to change his scale before time traveling, so now he towers over most people they encounter. Now he's noticed even more and bumps his head on doors... Yay...

- He doesn't know a lot about Roblox before 2016. So the meaning of the swords their collecting is a bit lost on him. He can't help but be a bit fearful of them. The previous holders of the Icedagger and Venomshank seemed to be going insane. And his friends seen awfully attached to the swords they have collected. He hopes everything will end fine.

- FEAR is strong in this one

BaconGirl

- Sister of baconboy

- She can't handle being alone well. Being alone for a short time causes great feeling of solitude. She's always with atleast one of her friends.

- She's in charge of snack duty, she got the biggest bag after all. Someone low on HP? A burger is ready. Low on SP? the Bloxycola is already in your hand. Low on Tix? That's something she can't fix.

- She the only one of the group who realised they should be in the R6 model when they time traveled. She thought the rest also knew this, apparently not.

- The Icedagger is her FAVORITE weapon. Just focus a bit and heal EVERYONE? yes please! ####, She'd let this thing freeze her for less.

- She's a bit cold to the touch

- Solitude is strong in this one

Ann

- short for androgynous default (who is naming these children?)

- Very chaotic person

- They kill every enemy in their wake, be it bird, Mosquito, or zombie. Getting 0 xp does not bring them joy.

- Always has hard mode enable to get more Xp. This has absolutely backfired multiple times.

- They will come up for their friends, every good friend does that! Including when BaconBoy burgers contain pickles.

- Their a fan of the Venomshank. An AOE attack also afflicting poison is. the. best! The pretty flowers coming out of the enemies is a plus too.

- Greed is very strong in this one.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thanks for reading that btw.

The drawings were made on my phone.

(trying to post thing broke my Tumblr, lol)

[dekariosclan]

Thinking about God Gale again…(especially since you made a great point about how he still loves you as a god! Which is so good and SO ANGSTY!) You may or may not be able to answer this, but I’d love to hear your thoughts: do you think God Gale would give up his godhood to be with a mortal Tav again? Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

As always: thank you for the wonderful meals about our boy 🙏 Dekarios the Divine bless you

OH DEAR GODS AN ANGSTY ASK

(ok, ok. I can do this. keep it together *hyperventilating into paper bag* just act normal goddamnit—)

Greetings fellow human! Hi! Thank you for this lovely ask, and rest assured that I am an extremely normal person who can totally handle emotional discussions about pixel people! NO I’M NOT CRYING—

Do I think God Gale would give up his godhood to be a mortal with Tav again?

Yes, I do—but only if he was able to be self-aware enough to realize that Godhood was not making him feel as happy or as content as Tav’s love did. Then his scholarly mind might finally begin to question what in the heavens he’d been thinking by giving that up just for ‘divine power’ which, as it turns out, really isn’t all that ‘divine.’

Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

The problem is that Godhood changes Gale (as it would change anyone) from a self-aware mortal to a divine being who can no longer relate to human experiences, including the passage of time. So while it’s confirmed that Gale still loves Tav, that love is now buried under weight of Gale’s hubris and godly ambitions, which would be very hard to overcome.

I know Raphael has the ending monologue where he predicts that Gale will eventually tear apart the pantheon, BUT, I personally don’t take that at face value as a guaranteed outcome. That speech reeks of sour grapes to me, and Raphael just being the smug bastard that we all know and love, so I think it’s less ‘Raphael’s Guaranteed Prediction’, and more ‘Raphael’s Fantasy Fanfiction’. Is it still possible? Sure, and I think if Gale did not romance Tav and did not get to experience their love then it is probably a more likely possibility.

But if Gale did romance Tav, then what I think is the tragic and more probable outcome is that Gale would eventually ‘wake up’ and realize that Godhood is not all that it’s cracked up to be, and decide to return home to Faerun and to Tav—but so much time has passed (and he did not realize it) that Tav and everyone he loved has now passed away.

AH GOD THE ANGST HURTS MY SPLEEN

But let’s focus on the GOOD outcome of him giving up Godhood and doing it in time to be with Tav again. It would be hard, and it would require Gale to REALLY overcome his insecurities and his pride, but I do think it is possible. Just looking at Gale’s ‘Godly Form’ you can see literal cracks in his exterior. He is not 100% unbreakable.

I still think at least a decent chunk of ‘human time’ would have to pass—we’ll say five years or so—before he would come to the realization.

And then one day (assuming Tav had not moved on and found new love) they would open their door, and—

“Hello,” Gale said, softly.

Tav blinked, for a moment trying to find their footing as their entire world spun out from under them.

“…Dekarios the Divine?” Tav asked, uncertainly. Gale’s clothes were simple robes, his skin no longer glowing with divine power. He looked almost as he had in Tav’s dreams, in all of their memories of when he’d still been a mortal.

Only this man’s eyes were much, much more tired. And filled with regret.

“No…I’m just plain old Gale Dekarios now. A most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.” He reached out, hesitantly, and took Tav’s hand in both of his.

For a moment they both stood silently, relishing the warmth of each other’s touch.

“Apologies. I hoped I’d be better at this.”

A smile was beginning to pull at Tav’s lips, even as their eyes filled. “At introductions?”

“At begging for your forgiveness.”

————— *One additional note: I simply must add that @lady-sapphyre wrote this excellent fic that tackles Gale giving up Godhood and I highly recommend it!

[brainrotandbedrot]

i have a cold and feel like a victorian child with tuberculosis so here’s this

(yeah yeah i know it’s been done before but my bursts of creativity are rare these days)

price is the one who won’t come near you with a ten-foot pole. yeah, maybe it’s a controversial take, but that man has responsibilities. and while he loves and adores you, he unfortunately can’t abandon them to sit with you and wait for you to feel better. so instead, he makes sure you get anything you want delivered to the front door. he puts medicine next to your filled water bottle, alongside your fully-charged kindle, a full box of tissues, and the tv remote. by the time you shuffle downstairs, all hacky and achey and tired, the sofa is a little haven of everything you could possibly need. everything’s within reach, there’s a blanket tossed over the couch, and a mug of tea is keeping warm in the microwave. just remember to text him when you’re awake, honey.

simon has an immune system made of steel. he could probably take on the black plague and survive unscathed, considering how many times you’ve had a stomach bug and he’s just totally unaffected. despite that, he’s also a germaphobe. the second you get the sniffles, he’s disinfecting every surface and giving you cup after cup of emergen-c. or anything he can find that has vitamin c in it. sorry, love, but you’re in separate rooms until you recover. that doesn’t mean he abandons you, though — he just brings you everything with a face mask on and gloves, then makes you sanitize your hands after you touch him. he’s an acts of service man: while you’re down for the count, he takes a few days off and cleans the house, takes care of chores, and makes sure there isn’t a thing you need to worry about.

johnny is the one that acts like you’re one foot in the grave even though it’s just a fever. he senses you’re sick before you do — he can see the slight glaze over your eyes, the way you’re drinking more water than usual, the way you seem to be just a bit off. as soon as you’re actually running a fever, he’s right there next to you. lazes on the couch with you, hand-feeds you, takes a swig of your electrolyte drink right after you. even though he’s a very dedicated attendant, handling your every need, it’s really not a shock that he ends up in the same predicament a week later. but he doesn’t mind it. he’d rather catch a bug if it means he gets to take care of you. and with all the naps you’re taking — the fatigue hits hard — he gets to be your pillow. he doesn’t see any downsides, really.

kyle is an angel. he knows you’re not feeling good. he doesn’t hold anything against you when you snap at him — you can’t help it, baby. it’s not your fault you’re sick. just let him take care of you, yeah? he’ll sit you down in the bath, keeping the water lukewarm so it can be made hotter or colder depending on what you need. he’ll wash your hair, scrub all the sweat away, and make sure you feel a bit more like yourself as he rubs in your lotion and dresses you in one of his big shirts and a pair of boxers. anything you ask for is acquired within minutes. you want water? already taken care of. ibuprofen for your sore throat? open up. jello or pudding? already in the fridge. just don’t forget your protein and greens, love, they’ll make you feel better. he’s fixing an omelette for you with all the nutrients you need to shake the little bout of flu off, and he’ll even blend it all up if you don’t like the texture of having everything chopped.

[capquinn]

Dad quinn with jack and luke having a tea party with his daughter and her dolls and she makes them dress up

The living room was chaos, but the good kind. The kind that came from his three-year-old daughter holding court in the middle of her very serious tea party, complete with a floral blanket as a tablecloth and a tiny ceramic tea set she insisted on arranging herself.

Quinn sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing a glittery plastic tiara that he’d forgotten about five minutes in. It was second nature by now — dressing up, playing along, doing whatever made her smile.

Across from Quinn, Luke was in his element, completely at ease in the whirlwind of pretend tea and glittering accessories. His niece was perched on his lap, her tiny hands carefully tipping the toy teapot toward a ceramic cup he held with exaggerated precision. The pink feather boa draped around his neck kept slipping off one shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he leaned into the ridiculousness of it, readjusting it dramatically like it was part of some royal decree. Every flourish, every goofy movement was aimed at one thing: making her laugh.

And it worked.

She leaned against his chest, giggling so hard she nearly tipped the teapot too far. Her tiny fingers clutched the handle as she steadied herself, her cheeks flushed from laughter. 

“Uncle Lukey!” she squealed, her voice full of joy. “You’re spilling it!”

Luke gasped as if he’d committed the gravest of sins. 

“Oh no!” he said, sitting up straighter and clutching the cup like it held liquid gold. “Quick, pour me more so no one notices!”

She threw her head back in a fresh wave of giggles, her whole body shaking against him. Still grinning, Luke reached out to steady her little wrist as she tilted the teapot with a seriousness that belied the fact it was empty.

“Perfect,” he said as she finished, his tone so genuine it could have been mistaken for awe. “You’re a natural. The Queen of Tea Parties.”

Her laughter bubbled up again, spilling into the room as she beamed at him. Luke’s grin only widened, the softness in his gaze unmistakable as he looked at her. He had a knack for this — for making her feel like she was the most important person in the room, for meeting her imagination with an endless well of his own. She adored him, and the feeling was mutual, clear in every playful quip and dramatic gesture.

She turned the teapot upright with a decisive nod, then leaned back against his chest, sighing contentedly. 

“You’re silly,” she declared, her voice full of the kind of affection only a three-year-old could manage.

Luke chuckled, tapping her nose lightly. “Only for you, kiddo.”

Quinn felt a warmth settle in his chest as he watched them. Moments like this didn’t come often enough, not with the way their lives constantly pulled them in different directions. But seeing Luke lean so completely into her little world, his every exaggerated move drawing out her laughter, made Quinn pause. It was simple, but it meant everything.

Meanwhile, Jack lounged nearby, his legs stretched out in front of him, a toy teacup balanced precariously on his knee. The sequinned cowboy hat his niece had insisted he wear sat slightly askew on his head, and every few minutes, he’d reach up to adjust it with an exaggerated flourish, earning a giggle from her each time.

“Do I get any of this famous tea,” he drawled, leaning back on his elbows, “or is Lukey keeping it all for himself?”

Now standing beside the table with her tiny teapot, she paused to give him a pointed look, one hand on her hip. “Uncle Jack,” she said seriously, though the sparkle in her eyes gave her away, “you have to ask nicely.”

Jack gasped, sitting up straight.

“Oh, excuse me, Your Royal Highness,” he said, bowing his head deeply and holding out his teacup with dramatic flair. “May I please have a cup of the finest tea in the land?”

She beamed, clearly delighted, and wiggled off Luke’s lap to pour him a fresh cup. 

“You’re lucky I made extra,” she teased, the way he always did, her little voice full of pride.

Jack accepted it with a grin, bowing his head slightly in mock grandeur. 

“Why, thank you, m’lady,” he said, taking an exaggerated sip before smacking his lips. “Best tea I’ve ever had. Five stars. Nope! Ten stars.”

She giggled, covering her mouth with her tiny hand as she bounced on her toes. “Ten stars?”

“Easily,” Jack replied, settling back into his seat. “Lukey’s tea doesn’t even come close. You’re the pro.”

Her eyes lit up, and she leaned in, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “Uncle Lukey doesn’t put magic in it.”

Jack let out a warm laugh, low and genuine, reaching out to pull her in for a quick hug. 

“Well, that explains it,” he said, his tone conspiratorial. “No wonder your tea’s the best.”

Her giggles bubbled up even more, and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder for a moment, basking in the playfulness of it all. Jack’s teasing smirk softened as he glanced down at her, the fondness in his expression unmistakable. 

“You’re the best, you know that?” He ruffled her hair gently, his tone quiet but full of affection. 

Her face lit up even brighter at his words, her teapot clutched tightly in her small hands. 

Quinn’s lips tugged into a smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his brothers playing along so easily, so naturally. This wasn’t a rare thing — his brothers adored her — but it wasn’t often they were all together like this. The laughter, the goofy costumes, the tiny teacups… It was exactly what he hoped she’d remember when she grew up. Not the big things, but this: the love that filled a room when she brought everyone together.

“Daddy, you didn’t drink your tea,” her little voice piped up, breaking through his thoughts. 

She stood in front of him, her tiny frame impossibly determined as she held out a fresh cup, the seriousness in her expression almost making him laugh.Quinn smiled, reaching out to take the cup. 

“Oh no, Bug, I can’t believe I forgot,” he said, his voice soft and playful as he brought the tiny cup to his lips, pretending to sip. He made a quiet, exaggerated sound of satisfaction. “Mmm, perfect. You’re the best tea-maker in the whole wide world.”

Her serious expression melted away into a bright smile, and before he could say another word, she leaned in, wrapping one arm around his shoulder in that shy, affectionate way little kids do when they’re basking in a compliment. Her cheek pressed to his temple as her fingers brushed the back of his neck.

“Thanks, Daddy,” she murmured, her voice small and sweet, and Quinn felt his chest tighten in the best way.

He turned his head just enough to press a kiss to the top of her head, his hand gently steadying the tiny arm she had draped around his neck. 

“Love you, Buggy,” he murmured, the words soft but carrying a weight of tenderness that he knew she couldn’t fully understand yet, though someday she would.

She giggled, that sweet, unfiltered sound that always tugged at his heart, and pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. Her wide eyes shone with delight before she spun around, skipping off to Luke’s lap with all the confidence in the world, her little crown wobbling precariously with each bounce.

He leaned back slightly, letting the moment wash over him. Luke was helping her fix a doll’s hat now, while Jack balanced the tiny teacup on the tip of his finger. His daughter’s giggles bubbled up again, spilling through the room like sunshine, and Quinn thought to himself — not for the first time — how lucky he was.

[felassan]

Some snippets from DA dev Luke Barrett on the unofficial BioWare forum, cut for length:

DA:I -

User: "I am still convinced that Bioware cut the healing spells and went with barriers instead because of the Multiplayer." Luke Barrett: I can't speak to any other games directly but I can give a bit of historic context for DAI. The game was initially a more dungeon/linear delving - see how far you can get - experience and there was no barrier of any kind. As a side note: healing has always been a hot topic in design because as soon as you include it there are many other conceits you now need take into consideration for the gameplay - one of which I will call 'the Anders problem'. Anyway, as DAI got the date moved and shifted more into the pseudo-openworld the concept of attrition (see how far you can get before having to return to camp) became less relevant and we needed to help the Players have more moment-to-moment agency around their survival. Unfortunately for various reasons (one of which is the sad reality of designing a game with a shifting timeline) the healing couldn't be re-added so we ended up with more of a mitigation strategy in the barrier system. It went through a lot of iterations but eventually landed on what it shipped with which I would call... acceptable (but just barely). Now, I will concede that a part of the reason it didn't return after that shift was an aversion to holy trinity gameplay specifically for MP but it wasn't the core reason. As a side story, trying to balance the game (as that was my job on DAI - and yes, it could be much better haha) we had to all but force Players to take barrier. It is intentionally the first skill in the first tree for the Mage and all the autolevel (I also handled that) is designed to get it right away." [source]

User: "Merry Christmas Luke! Sooo what was the hardest class you had to balance? [DA:I]" Luke Barrett: "I feel like anyone who was around for the post-launch content will already know the answer to this as it was the bane of my existence when I got put exclusively on MP after launch but the Knight-Enchanter barrier absorbing was a pain. Stuff like that is very challenging to feel good without being broken as they are relative to damage so scaling is fairly open-ended. Too little and the casual players won't get use out of it, too much and the character builders will be wildly OP. We actually had a 'no nerfing' guideline for the SP side so it was a hard battle to fix that silly thing 🙃." [source]

"As a fun fact, I did all the logic for autolevel on DAI and the guideline I was given was literally "make functional builds, but don't make something optimal that you'd play"." [source]

DA:TV -

User: "If you can, say thanks to the people making the no die option possible." Luke Barrett: "Done! My team handles this stuff so I let them know 😊" [source]

"Comically, I designed the majority of the items and skills and I am still finding it fun making awesome builds (been almost entirely doing playthroughs lately" [source]

"Was really important to the team that everyone could play the way that felt best to them." [source]

"Each specialization has a focus around a few specific mechanics, some of which are the weapons or damage types but you can go off script and make it work for sure (this was intentional in the designs)." [source]

"I designed all the skills and so they're each enjoyable to me to some extent. I have been playing through the game over and over the last couple months for balance purposes so I've played them all fairly extensively." [source]

User: "Necrotic sounds like it could be either Spirit or Nature." User: "For Rogue, it replace "poison". For Mage, it replace spirit (Spirit bomb). For Warrior, it's more spirit (especially Reaper), but some skills could work as poison too. So basically they merged spirit and nature." Luke Barrett: "Thats pretty close to spot on. They were actually heavily iterated on throughout development - I can't (at least currently) go into specifics as to why though." [source]

"the target for the progression vision is that you can make a viable build out of almost** any aspect of the gameplay." [source]

"As for timelines, We started DA4 in October of 2015 roughly. The entire team was moved to MEA for about 3-4 months to help it ship and I also spent all of 3 weeks helping out on Anthem. But otherwise I've been on some incarnation of DA4 for about 9 years now - pretty ready for it to release 😅." [source]

"yes, years of working on the same thing can cause some burnout but I've played through the full game probably about 8 times in the last few months and it's still fun (though some of the specific levels that haven't changed in a long time I've done 50+ times easily and I could do without ever seeing them again 😂)." [source]

User: "I do kind of feel that at this point the DA team has put so much work into creating and improving their tools and learning the ins and outs of Frostbite [...] But who knows what the devs in the trenches really feel" Luke Barrett: "I will say it does some things very well and some things poorly, relative to other engines. Personally I really enjoy Frostbite but I've been using it since 2012. In an ideal world, many engines would be viable and developers would make games suited to the strengths of a specific engine." [source]

User: "Since this game is much more stat heavy than prior titles, specifically when it comes to skills and gear, there's likely a need for some balance changes to be made post-launch. Does the game being playable completely offline hinder the data capture side for your team (in terms of analytics), or is this a non-factor?" Luke Barrett: "Generally speaking, most people leave data analytics on so we get more than enough data coming in. Additionally, I'll personally be watching several channels for things that are underperforming (relatively speaking) and not have to nerf anything. The rpg side is vast though and I'm sure people will find OP combinations/synergies that might need 'adjustments' but as long as it's fun and not an "I win" button that trivializes combat I'm pretty cool with it." [source]

Luke Barrett: "I can safely say there are many builds for each class that will feel very powerful if you're not on the highest difficulty 😉. What I'm really excited for is when the guides comes out that show people the fastest way to get some of the uniques that unlock 'special' gameplay 😊. Let's just say I love the feeling of rushing to Patches in DS1 and kicking him off the bridge for the Crescent Axe (iykyk)." [source] User: "Speaking of guides. Will there be a guidebook like there was for DAI? " Luke Barrett: "Not that I'm aware of but I'm happy to help feed info to somewhere like fextralife or the dragon age wiki after a week or so to help with those pursuits. Have to leave some time for exploration and discovery before the optimizers streamline the experience 😉" [source]

"Effectively, at least until the game launches (and likely a week or so after), you won't get anything interesting out of any of the devs save Mike Gamble or John Epler. Longer term I hope to be very active, at least for build mechanics and all the combat/rpg nuts and bolts conversations." [source]

"I started "da4" in October 2015 and so after 9 years of effort (minus 3 months on Andromeda) I'm quite excited for tomorrow and the launch week. I don't know if I'd say nervous, I feel pretty confident in the product, but definitely that eager kid before Christmas feeling 😊" [source]

"As the person who did all the balance, I will say that if you are comprehending how to make a cohesive build and understand the combat mechanics, you should play on Underdog. One of the downsides to having a lot of power growth vectors is the difference between people who engage vs those that don't becomes a chasm quite quickly. If you start blowing enemies up rapidly, turn up the difficulty (or play on nightmare where that will not be the case) - basically if it ever feels super easy or like enemies are health sponges you're probably on the wrong setting for your skill level. The custom difficulty settings are there to make the gameplay enjoyable (for whatever that means to you)." [source]

"As a tip from me, the balance is subtly tipped in the players favor until the last fight of the 3rd combat mission. Be warned if it's feeling too easy you may want to wait until after that to decide." [source]

[on DA MP] Luke Barrett: "It was actually pretty fun but very much not what most people wanted us to make (including internally). Also we had, let's say, limited staff who had a passion and background in MP so it was definitely the right call to go SP only. Now, it would have been nice had we just started that way but so it goes sometimes." [source] User: "You still play it yourself from time to time (DA MP), or have you left it be?" Luke Barrett: "After playing variations of DA4 for so many years (9!!!) it's hard to go back to anything with DAI controls/gameplay speed. Even the initial Joplin prototypes I was doing were much more snappy/twitchy - for everything good about DAI the combat was definitely in the middle of two different styles." [source]

[on aiming bows] "we actually used to have separate buttons for ADS and ranged attack but it was wildly overloading the controller. These RPG games need controllers with at least 2 more buttons (fingers crossed for the next gen)" [source]

User: "After the last few games, I'm really surprised by the current skill... tree?" Luke Barrett: "I call it a skill graph - aside from the beginning where you have 3 choices the entirety of it is 2 choice splits and it'll essentially make a build for you. Just go a little at a time and aim for whatever specialization seems most fun to you 😄" [source]

"Loot is not random so theoretically guides with drop locations should appear pretty soon." [source]

"Yep, Spellblade is the only spec that directly impacts fire damage but you can get benefits from most of them and still go fire. As for the specs, yes it would have been nice to support all of them but just wasn't in scope unfortunately. Mage has Mourn-Watch, Shadow Dragons, and Antivan Crows specializations - only the Rogue has a Veiljumper one. Deathcaller left side you can go beam based and use a Fire weapon. Evoker you'd likely need to do a hybrid ice/fire build." [source]

User: "Bit of a side question, but for those who intend to make more characters, is BioWare considering upping the amount of playable character slots you can have (currently at 3)? Or is there a hardware restriction here given the game is offline playable?" Luke Barrett: "Don't quote me as I don't handle the technical side of this but my understanding is we have to allocate a specific amount of HD space on the consoles so we basically have to pick a limit, relative to our save file sizes, and then divide that by number of careers. I'll inquire if this is something we can increase with an optional download or something but I suspect consoles are stuck that way, unfortunately." [source]

[on Patch 1] "It's been awhile since I actually did the content for this patch so I'd have to check but I have a pretty anti-nerf policy for SP games. I know I fixed up a couple enemies that weren't as hard as they were supposed to be and definitely boosted a bunch of synergistic things though. I'll take a look tomorrow but for those that don't know, the turnaround time on these things is about a month of it's not an emergency due to certification process with consoles. Longer term my goal is to keep an eye in telemetry of any underused abilities and items (or enemies with too many kills under their belt) and audit them just to double check if they need a boost or if people just haven't figured them out yet 😉." [source]

"The equippable items are all predetermined with a minor exception*. Some items are class specific (all the weapons, a small amount of armors and accessories, 2 runes) so when you play a different class you'll see your classes 'version' of that item. Things that are random (from a table/pool) are valuables. Exception: Near the very end of the game we do a few checks on what equipment you haven't acquired. A bunch of those final drops, and inventory on the final merchant, simply find stuff you don't have and give it to you. That's basically the only major RNG we have with loot. If you notice even 99% of the skills and item mods employ an effect after a condition is met X times rather than a more traditional 'proc chance'." [source]

[on modding] "Once this starts to pick up, feel free to PM me if anyone needs help 'finding' assets or has questions about how one might mod something. We don't officially support mods buuuuut we don't have any kind of anti-modding stance either" [source]

"To give the high level gist of the resource economy: - each class starts off with minimal ability usage, this is intentional to force people to learn the other combat mechanics as they're a necessary skill and it's easy to lean on a crutch like ability spam and kiting - abilities are designed to feel powerful on use, thus they all have a decent cost and can't be spammed* - weapon attacks generate your resource - in the bottom right of the center skills area is a node to make each class's resource easier to manage - halfway down all starting segments (N, SW, SE) there is always a node that boosts generation - there are +max nodes on all sides of the skill graph for each class, this is particularly important for the Mage as they start each fight at max - each class can build into being ability focused but starts intentionally rounded - loastly, the first ability is always a resource spender and 1 or 2 of the next available ones will be cooldown gated. It is recommended to have at least one cooldown based ability slotted" [source]

"So loosely the rogue momentum works like this: - each ability costs 50 momentum - hitting enemies generates ~2 momentum per hit (base), you get extra for bow weakpoints - when you are directly hit, you lose 15% of your current momentum, this means the more you hold the more you will lose (this loss has a small cooldown so you don't lose a whole bar when you get hit rapidly) - momentum carries forward between combats (compared to warrior rage which decays when out of combat) If youre having issues, make sure you get that skill in the middle section that reduces momentum loss when hit. As a helpful tip, the Quicken buff generates small amounts of momentum each second so it's a good way to get more if you're having issues." [source]

"I highly recommend using the belt that grants Quicken early game until you can generate momentum faster yourself. And yes, the time dilation affects everything in the world except the Player so all your buffs and things still tick at normal speed" [source]

User: "If I knock an enemy off an edge, if they were supposed to drop something will it appear on the edge, or is it lost for good?" Luke Barrett: "It should appear on the ledge. I will say the 'real' loot from enemy drops are all hand placed. The actual random stuff is just valuables and materials." [source]

" The way it actually works is very complicated with a lot of necessary exceptions but loosely - each ability has a base damage and ones that hit multiple times have an offset multiplier. - That value is multiplied by the sum of all your stat bonuses, conditional bonuses, resist and layer modifiers. - We then subtract enemy defense and multiply by 1-resist (with penetration being calculated here). - this new damage then gets multiplied by 1+crit+weakpointpoint (so those bonuses always feel meaty) and then multiplied by a random number between .95 and 1.05 just to give a little range to the floaties (basically just a presentation thing) - we then multiply again for buffs and debuffs so they, again, always feel meaningful - lastly, we take all added damage and add it flat on top" [source]

"Specific enhancements make enemies immune to the matching affliction. For example, Fire Enchanted enemies are immune to burning. Juggernaut enemies are immune to being staggered but otherwise it should work in everything." [source]

[r0-boat]

Feral!Lighter brain rot

I'm very normal about his EP

Cw: Dubcon, consent non-con, rough sex, No beta we die like men

Thank you for coming to my TED talk...*explodes*

Even the undefeated champion can get overwhelmed whether it be from stress or simply becoming drunk off adrenaline from a fight.

All he wants to do is maul the next thing he sees, like a feral animal.

That's what pretty little things like you are for. He tells you over and over that he'd never hurt you in a soft voice that makes your heart swoon. But you know full well that he can.

He knows precisely what you want, You're not exactly the most subtle with your desires.

That thought had been driving you crazy. The What if Lighter: Your sweet, protective boyfriend wasn't so sweet with you? To see you as a toy to play with than someone that he cherishes more than anything else in the world.

Why not give you an experience to remember?

This is what you want. To have him come in just when you're about to go to bed. You're lying on the couch when your door knob clicks and turns. You know exactly who it is... There was only one other person you gave your spare key to.

It's not that you didn't want to see him. It's just that you weren't expecting him; usually, he would shoot you a maximum of three-word text when he came to crash or visit.

But this time, he practically barges in, slamming the door behind him. The look in his eye shivers down your spine as an imposing figure stocking closer toward you.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, especially when he left his jacket and shirt, dropped on the floor forgotten. He took his red scarf and wrapped it around his left hand.

"On. Your. Knees."

That wasn't a request.

You looked at him, eyes wide., Whatever was showing on your television was long forgotten. Your legs shook everything, urging you to drop to your knees and let him do whatever he wanted. But something within you stirred inside, whether it be curiosity or blind courage. It made your lips move.

"Make me."

Lighter's green eyes flicker at your blatant challenge. His eyebrows raise slightly. The silence is deafening as his lips curve into a smile. His left hand grips the red fabric as the other takes off his shades, tossing them.

He comes after you in a flash, His hand roughly grabbing at your color, yanking you until he hoists you over his shoulders. His fingers dig into your back as he brings you to your bedroom, tossing you on the bed with little care of where you end up before crawling on top of you, licking his lips. He could practically smell your arousal.

And he was just as aroused as you were. Scratch that He's more aroused than you are. He feels so bad for handling you similarly to how he handles riffraff. But he can't deny how hard his cock was pressing against his jeans.

He lets out a snarl His arms flexing as he tears his pants in two. Before doing the same to your shirt and pants.

"Hey! I just got those!" You yell, hitting his rock-hard chest. It's kind of cute how you think you can hurt him.

"too bad doll, should've listened to me the first time."

There was no ounce of gentleness to how the man handles you to flip over, grabbing your wrists, and tying you with the scarf.

Coating his fingers in his saliva before plunging it inside you. His hand and thick fingers force you open. His callused palm and rough scarred fingers groping your ass spreading you whiter as wide as he could to force his fingers deeper stretching you out for the hardness you can feel grinding against the crack of your ass.

Fuck... Your muffled screams sound so good. He wanted to be at least gentle when he fucks you, but It looked like his body had other plans. Taking you like this was so thrilling. His eyes rolled back as he lost himself in his own lust, ravaging your body till there was nothing left.

"Gonna fuck you... Going to fill you up and teach that naughty little mouth not to talk back!" Lighter growls in your ear taking out his fingers before plunge again in your mouth You're empty hole soon filled with something bigger screaming against his mouth and fingers as he immediately sets his pace.

You're tasting yourself on your tongue. The thought alone was setting Lighter a blaze.

Why do you make him like this? He could feel every ounce of self-control crack and crumble.

He was making so much noise from the bed rattling and his own moans your neighbors could probably hear but to be honest he doesn't give a fuck. All he cares about is fucking all the stress he has built up from god knows how long.

From how tightly you were gripping his poor cock, to your shaking, quivering body and you're sobbing, muffled mess with your tears soaking his thumb and palm, you were close. Lighter was, too. Lighter was so close. And all he wanted to do was fill you up fill your insides tell you were leaking.

You felt him sink his teeth into your shoulder before the both of you exploded at the same time. Lighter can feel you milking him as he came harder than he ever did in his life.

For the first time since he first started training, his body felt sore as he practically collapsed on top of you before quickly rolling off so he doesn't crush you.

When he finally catches his breath, He rolls over to your side, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest, kissing your face.

"hey hey hey...shhh It's okay... It's okay we're done... I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

He'd never forgive himself if he did. But he got his answer when your arms wrapped back around him and he saw your beaming smile. He sighs in relief smiling back kissing your lips.

"I guess It's safe to say that you liked it.... Good... I did too."

[tsaritza-mika]

The Companions and Separation Anxiety

So something occurred to me while working on a WIP. It mostly started with Astarion, but then drifted to consider the others you could romance as well. I was mostly thinking of Star at the time, and the others came from conversation

If you consider everything that happened, from the moment they met, Tav and Star have never really spent any time apart for maybe longer than a few hours at most. And yes, I'd considered even the times he's left at camp. Because even if he's left at camp, all of them have that underlying mission and the need to rely on their allies. For all the allies that you gather in the game, you still keep everyone outside of your little group at something of an arms length. The only ones that spend even a little bit of time at your camp in the same vein as the rest of your companions are Dame Aylin and Isobel (no I'm not counting Alfira, because in Durge runs she isn't likely to survive a single night XDD poor baby).

All of our time is spent with our companions from the moment we meet, and for the ones we romance, I don't think it'd be far fetched to think that after everything is said and done, the brain and all other enemies dealt with, our chosen romanced companion could very well have some measure of separation anxiety if Tav/Durge had need to leave their side for longer than a day or two.

Especially with Astarion I think he would be hit hardest in this, because before his adventure with everyone, he had no choice but to watch everyone he might have had even a flicker of feelings for being taken away and never return. Kudos where he deserves them, he did a LOT of growing during the journey, but old habits die hard too. So even if he's in a better place at the end, he could very well experience some measure of separation anxiety the first time they need to really be apart from each other. This could be even worse if playing a Durge, as it might be a bit more intense considering he's already experienced his partner dying in front of him and being completely helpless to do anything to stop it before Withers steps in.

With Durge, Astarion had spent 200 years praying to every god he knew for a savior from his torment, watching as everything, every piece of himself was taken away from him. Then, the first truly good thing to happen to him, the first person who acknowledged him as someone worthy of love and respect, was ripped away from him by a god. And once again, he couldn't do anything to stop it. Even with Withers bringing them back, I doubt he's going to be completely fine with Tav/Durge being too far away from him for a while.

I'd imagine Gale and Shadow might have similarly bad reactions, yet not quite to the level that Star may get. They would also have comparable ways of dealing with it I think, reassuring Tav/Durge that they're fine, and that they understand, but their mannerisms aren't as assured as they usually are, and their words may be more clipped and sharp. They just really don't want to think about it, and try their best to ignore it.

Lae'zel I think would just, do everything physical to try not thinking about it. She acts like she's not worried about them, when in reality she's secretly counting the seconds until they're home. She keeps it all inside, because realistically she knows they can handle themselves, but she's not the emotional type. I think she might try losing herself in training. Like she's just, working herself to near exhaustion, putting in every effort to not think about it.

Honestly I think the only ones who wouldn't really be hit by it would be Wyll and Karlach. Like, they'd still feel the worry, but they'd be the ones to handle it best. Wyll and Karlach have been used to being on their own for quite a while before the tadpole, and judging by their dialogue during the reunion, I would guess they may still worry, but it wouldn't truly bother them unless they got word that Tav/Durge was in some serious trouble.

Halsin would likely be the only one who would be a middle-ground in all this I think. He'd do everything he could with the kids and the village, but then if he finds himself with enough time to think about it, he'd probably just, I dunno, chop some wood and build a table or something XDDDD Tav/Durge would come home to find that he's got a whole new 12 person table with chairs and carved dining set and cutlery. He's also carved a mother and father duck gently touching beaks as a centerpiece, and all the other carved ducklings have the names of everyone he knows carefully carved into them and placed in front of each seat. He's also been talking to them. People have been worried about him, but they didn't want to say anything XDDDD

[bansurii]

cocktail

cw: sukuna x reader x yuji }{ yuji has DID and sukuna is his other personality}{ smut, mental disorders, trigger warnings, just don't read it if you cannot handle mental illness discussions and things of the like }{ also reader is a psych major }{ reader choice at bottom for smut }{ unedited, wrote in an hour haha hope you enjoy }{mdni

you didn't expect anything at first. he was cute, he was talkative, he was gentle. you liked his vulnerability, his openness, his judgement-free zone, his carefree and childlike attitude. he was super fucking dope!

you had sex a couple times and it blew your fucking mind. better than anyone you had ever been with. as you started to get to know him more and better than before, you started to fall in love with him. albeit, there were growing feelings anyway from his plans for his life and the way he talked to you as if you had known each other for years. the chemistry was truly unparalleled.

he was everything you asked and more.

after a while, you began to notice subtle changes. small, but noticeable enough. and for a while, you said nothing.

until one night, he said something that made you realize something absolutely startling. it had you on the edge of your mental seat. physically, you were calm. or you'd hoped you looked calm.

he noticed how uneasy you got even if you were damn near unreadable. the part of him that became apparent to you, the version of himself that he tried hard to bury had come through in subtle ways. he knew it scared you, but it was hard for him to hold that part of himself back. he knew that only one of two things would happen whether you left or not.

his insanity would get the best of him and you would accept it, or he would wake up and realize you were gone. as if you had never existed. but the residuals were there. a mark left that could never be removed.

he was obsessed with you. you gave him something no one has given him in a very long time; kindness, vulnerability, friendship, everything he asked and more. you weren't afraid of him in the beginning like most were before. some say they saw someone in him that scared them beyond return. some say it was just his energy. but he wasn't sure what you saw. maybe you were naive. or maybe you knew it but shoved the thoughts and feelings down because you were going through a drought and needed it bad.

but he knew deep down and so did the part of himself he hid: you were the perfect one for him.

he didn't know how long this would last. hell, he didn't even think it would last this long. but he knew he wanted it. he knew he couldn't let you leave him. he knew he couldn't stay away from you. he needed you in every possible way.

he often wondered in the wee hours of the night and the morning if you knew how good it felt to be needed. to be desired. he wondered if you felt the same deep desire for him. he knows it was rather soon, too soon perhaps, that he liked you from the beginning. he was infatuated, but that soon grew to something longer-lasting, something more serious. he had truly never been so compatible with someone before. there were too many similarities and even with other people he knew and was compatible with, knew them for longer too, just never could compare to what he felt with you.

he had been alone so long he just couldn't fathom someone like this existed. someone who was... a universe inside of a human body. alone so long he didn't even know how to act right around someone else. he wasn't a great texter, or phone person in general. he preferred to be in person. he wanted the physical intimacy without the sex that you provided, the safe space, the ability to say nonsensical things and still be appreciated and laughed with and cared for and... loved.

so you visited him again after that night. it was about two weeks later, barely texted or called him this time. he wondered why. if it was something he did, if it was... the energy. if you saw the part of him he didn't want anyone to see.

the switch was slow, where normally it is quick. like a light switching off. but he had been holding onto the spotlight for so damn long... he could feel it switching but it was too late to tell you not to come over. you had already sent your eta and when he checked... you were right around the corner. he didn't want you to waste your trip, but he didn't have enough time to tell you to go back home. he barely had enough time to form the coherent thought before he took over. it was too late. he could only watch from the darkness surrounding him. he clawed, and screamed, and fought and tried his hardest to take the spotlight back but over that period of time, those years he held back, he had been weakened slowly but surely. he lost this time, but he had everything to gain through this. he just didn't know yet.

and when you arrived, he opened the door for you as he normally would and greeted you. he took your jacket, your shoes, your bag and he placed it on the racks by the door for you.

he was taller, you noticed, maybe a posture thing. he had a certain aura around him that was different than the aura you were used to. but otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary.

you wondered if he had done something different somewhere somehow. but you couldn't place your finger on it. the apartment was the same as usual. his hair was the same as usual. his eyes were a little darker, but everything else was the same. except for the mischievous smile as you turned your back to him to sit on his sofa.

it was a two seater, a slightly larger love-seat across from you and you expected him to sit there as he normally did. he said he always sat across from you because he wanted you to feel comfortable and because you were so pretty he wanted to see you at all times.

it was charming at first. but now, you wonder if there was something else... something behind the real reason he sat so far away.

he sat next to you. you wondered if he was alright, he was so quiet, so... calculative, it seemed.

"how are you tonight? you haven't texted or called as much as you usually do. you seeing someone else already?"

it was shocking hearing that. you wondered if he was alright but you were a bit too startled to voice it. you took a moment to look into his eyes. he seemed very serious about it despite his next comment.

"just kidding. i know you have a life outside of hanging out with me. you thirsty?"

you smiled and nodded, "no, i brought water."

he smirked, "good. if you change your mind, i've got plenty of drinks."

"thanks... how are you?"

"i'm good. even better now that you're here."

his smile was genuine this time, nothing wild about it. it was beautiful as usual, somehow even sexier. like a grown man, not a random uni student with nice features. this had to be someone different entirely.

and as you sat and stared at him more while he filled you in further on his past couple weeks of not speaking to you often--which he greatly emphasized--you realized just how different he did look when you stared closely, observed, and heard some things. they weren't the usual comments, usual witty remarks and the occasional whimsy responses.

"yuji, are you sure you're alright?"

and the smile you watched grow from normal to really big to verging on deranged shook you to your core.

"not yuji."

the hand on your thigh grew tighter, threatening to break through the fabric of your stockings and tear through your skin. you weren't sure why or how it was possible, but the look he was giving you, the feeling of the pressure on your body --even in places untouched-- really turned you on. he looked positively fucked out...

"i... don't understand..."

"dissociative identity... you should know that, miss psych major. but perhaps you haven't been able to focus lately because you were so focused with this... idea of who we really are... not talking to us for weeks... being scarce... making our chest hurt... you should know better, princess. we don't take lightly to being ignored. under any circumstances."

your heart nearly beat out of your chest. you couldn't focus properly on anything for some reason. it was like he was putting you in a trance with his voice and touch alone. and it took you a moment to realize his hand slowly started running upward, pressing into your sensitive spots, never touching where you needed him most, just smooth, subtle back and forth very close and too far.

"oh."

a breathless response was all you could offer... and in turn, it was all he needed. he knew you wanted him even more after figuring this out. he knew you liked this "hurt little lamb with a side of wolf" idea of him. he knew exactly what you wanted, what you liked, and what you needed. he had plenty of time to learn you through the lenses of the child he shared a body with.

he just needed you pliant and willing, which you already were. he liked that, less effort for him to sway your mind.

because if princess treatment was what you wanted, he would serve it on a golden platter. he already knew you liked the other version of him enough, he knew you were ready for the switch even if you thought you weren't ready for the switch. but you would assimilate accordingly. right?

he would give you what you wanted and what you needed. he would pretend he needed saving so you could... heal him. he would be everything you needed him to be. and he would trap you with the baby he would help you raise. you were... breedable. he liked that a lot. he needed it.

his touches were needier, he grew closer, his lips whispering sweet promises of what was to come in your ear, kissing lightly up and down your neck, sucking on that sensitive little spot on your neck. pulled you closer so he could trail those kisses and bites down your shoulder.

he pulled that cute sweater off so he could see your beautiful body, he was gentle with a hint of aggression. he wanted you to feel comfortable yet desired fiercely. he needed to spear you. he needed to feel every part of you.

usually there was a condom readily available. but oh, so conveniently... "i ran out."

you were too turned on and turned out by him at this point to stop him. he was clean... and so were you... so there wasn't a problem. right?

he made quick work of your bra, licking your chest and making sure to leave those hickies you both loved so dearly. he made the sweetest love to your breasts. licking, sucking, kneading the other in one hand and switching between each nipple, each mound of flesh.

he loved your breathlessness, your soft moans, your fingers in his hair, the one rubbing up and down his arm to his back. the wet lips, the heavy breaths... and most of all those eyes... so fucked and barely touched... so sensitive...

he wanted to steal all of you from everyone you knew, everything you did daily, he wanted to have you all to himself every day in every kind of way.

he needed to see you from sun up to sun down.

he made quick work of your skirt and stockings, the pretty thong soaked in your nectar was a sight to behold. he took a mental screenshot, one he would recreate later... if you were willing.

he removed the thong, slowly being sucked between those beautiful lips with every growing second of your arousal. he made sure to pull from the center of the thing, pushing his finger between your lips purposely as he pulled the center back and tugged, leaving his finger soaked and your pussy wanting...

he lifted your legs as he pulled the thong down, but he liked the residue of your arousal nearby, so he left it wrapped around one thigh. entirely naked for him, open and ready and he barely touched you.

he wasn't sure if he wanted to eat you out, fuck you silly, or watch you do it all yourself and struggle to take all of him without his help...

he knew yuji liked doing all the work, pure princess treatment. but this time, he wanted to remove those privileges... punishment for his pretty princess this time...

which one?

[meelusinee]

SUN-KISSED LIPS ★ B.Z X READER

in which Blaise takes you out on a date in Italy after your O.W.L exams

pairing: boyfriend blaise zabini x girlfriend reader tags: fluff fluff fluff!!! blaise being the best boyfriend word count: 2.3k warnings: none

author's note: thank u guys so much for the support AAAAAA i've been so motivated to write fanfics and stuff, so i'm making one for every major character i want to cover before i do repeats. unlesss someone wants to do a request :D in which case i will totally try to make something up.

SUN KISSED LIPS | B.Z X READER

Exams had been stressful, to say the least. 

Potions was absolutely dreadful. Snape’s watchful eye feeling like it was zoned directly onto you, any mistake you made seemed to displease the man even further than what you thought possible. Then Charms, where you had to remember at least 50 spells within the span of maybe two minutes. The written section for Transfiguration was absolutely dreadful, as was the showcase of Mandrake handling for your Herbology exams. Not to mention the abomination of your History of Magic exam, though you felt like everyone could only recall one or two things by that point of the week. Defense Against the Dark Arts was last, the only class you felt you had done something good in.

All in all, very stressful.

And that stress was not lost on Blaise either.

Blaise, your sweet and caring boyfriend, has had to handle most of your exam stress for the past month. Most of the time though, you were shutting him out in favor of studying. 

He couldn’t blame you much, the O.W.L exams were important. Not everyone could buy their way into Ministry jobs, they would have to work for it. Your work ethic was always something that Blaise truly appreciated about you.

But right now, that work ethic was getting in the way of his love life. Which obviously meant that he had to devise a plan.

“Amore mio,” he whispered, hands moving to scratch at your scalp as you leaned over your desk. “The exams are over, what’s there to be stressed about?”

“I haven’t gotten my results back yet!” you said, the bone of your palm hitting your forehead before pulling roughly at your hair. “What if I failed all of them? I mean, these exams are really important. If I fail all of them, I won’t be able to do anything with my life.”

Blaise chuckled softly at that, gently pulling your hands away from your hair before kissing the top of your head. “Bambina, we have Umbridge this year.”

“God, don’t remind me.” you groaned. “I’ll die, Blaise. Actually die. She’s going to fail all of my exams, isn’t she?”

“Love,” he chuckled, pulling up a chair and sitting next to you. “Look at me.”

Blaise watched as you sighed before looking over at him, cooing softly as he finally saw your face for what felt like years. Your eyes were dark and swollen, both from a lack of sleep and crying. Not to mention how stressed you looked all together, with a sunken face and large pout that melted away at his heart.

“Tesoro,” Blaise whispered, his hands moving to hold yours. “You passed, my love. I know you did. You’ve been studying so hard for so long there’s no way you didn’t. I promise all of the professors will easily be giving you O’s on every exam.”

“But what if I fail?” you groaned, sniffling softly.

“You won’t fail.” Blaise said sternly, squeezing your hands. He didn’t want you beating yourself down anymore. “Plus, Umbridge likes me, and by association likes you. Maybe not the best person to like you, sure. But I promise it could help with your exams, the exams you don’t need help with in the first place.”

“You’re going to use bribery to get me perfect grades?” you chuckled quietly, scooting your chair a bit closer to him.

“I don’t think my bribery would be as effective as some people’s bribery.” he muttered, fingers caressing the back of your hands. “Maybe Draco.”

“How on Earth would you bribe Draco?” you giggled softly, looking up at him.

“Hookers.” Blaise shrugged, before smirking. “Which gives me a bit of an idea.”

“We are not hiring a prostitute.” you said.

“No, but we are going to go on a date.” Blaise smirked, standing up and walking over to your wardrobe. “Do you still have that black dress I got you last month? Or maybe the red one.” 

“Blaise!” you chuckled, standing up and moving to stand beside him. “Where on Earth would we even go? We haven’t made reservations or anything.”

“We don’t need those.” Blaise said, nudging you with his elbow. “Put on a nice outfit, we’re going on a date.”

“This is ridiculous.” you giggled, arms wrapped around his as the both of you walked down the sidewalks of Italy.

In the time that you took a shower, put on a nice sundress, and did your hair and makeup, Blaise had found a portkey to an Italian plaza. In Italy. The sun was still in the sky by the time they got there, the sun setting in just a couple of hours.

“What about it is ridiculous?” he asked, smiling softly down at you. “We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping in Italy!” you said, giggling softly. “Like, what about that isn’t ridiculous? Just 10 minutes ago I was at Hogwarts, now I’m in Italy.”

“It’s nothing.” he said, the both of you stopping in front of a clothing store. “I want to get you a new dress, is that okay?”

“You got me two already this month, and we’re not even halfway!” you giggled, looking up at him. “Do I really need another one?”

“This one’s from Italy though, bambina.” Blaise smiled, kissing the top of your forehead. His hand was resting on your waist, the other hand moving to open the door for you both. “Plus, you’ll need a swimsuit as well.”

“I do?” you asked confusedly.

“Yes you do, c’mon.” he smiled. 

The both of you walked into the store, Blaise guiding you to the swimsuit section. The first piece there was a red and white plaid one-piece, much similar to a picnic blanket. “I think that we should have a picnic at the beach.”

“If I have to wear a picnic blanket, so do you.” you said to him, hands on your hips.

“Maybe just plain red?” he asked you.

“I suppose that works.” you muttered, grabbing one of the swimsuits and holding it by the hanger. “What kind of dress did you want to buy me anyways?”

“I was thinking black.” he muttered, his hand resting on the dip in your back as you both walked to the dress section of the shop. There were shorter dresses and small sun dresses, though your gaze immediately turned to the more elegant ones at the top. “Maybe with velvet. Or a ball gown.”

“I am not letting you buy me a ball gown.” you said, wagging your finger in his face. “That is too much!”

“But then everyone would know that you’re a princess, wouldn’t they?” he smirked, eyes darting to look at the different dresses. “That one?”

It was a black silk dress, with a shoulderless sweetheart neckline and corset at the top. It was form fitting, and probably would cover your ankles. The top part before the corset was embroidered with small black gemstones, a small pattern of them also at the bottom.

“It’s really pretty,” you whispered, your eyes darting to the price tag. “But that’s too expensive. I couldn’t possibly accept it.”

“Sure you can,” he said, grabbing the first one off the rack and holding it against you. “It’d be yours, why couldn’t you?”

“Because it’s too much!” you said to him, looking down at the dress pressed against you. “Blaise, that is way too expensive. You’ve already bought me two dresses this month, don’t you have a budget of sorts? Surely you think this is too much too.”

“I’d rather dress you up than have my dad waste the worth of this on a pack of well-patted cigars.” Blaise said, kissing your forehead as he grabbed the swimsuit from your hands.

“Oh hush,” you grumbled out loud, trying and failing to grab at the dress and swimsuit from his hands as you both made your way to the counter. “I’ll get my revenge on you one day, Mister.”

“I’m sure you will, amore mio.”

The sun was just beginning to set as you waded your way into the water, small giggles escaping your mouth at the feeling of the cold water against your legs.

“It feels funny!” you said, smiling as Blaise pulled you into a hug. “You can feel it, right?”

“I can.” he smiled, peppering your face in kisses as you continued to laugh about the feeling. “It does feel rather unique, I must say.”

“It’s tickling me.” you said, holding onto his arms like a vice as the both of you waded further in.

“Are you cold?” he asked you, the water eventually making it up to your chests now. “I can put a warming charm on you, if you want.”

“It’s meant to be cold.” you said, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted you up to carry you. “Plus, you’re rather warm yourself anyways.”

“Am I now?” he chuckled softly.

“Yes you are.” you said, booping him on the nose.

Blaise hummed softly, his finger tapping your back a couple of times before a small radio began to play. You looked around in awe, not having noticed the scenery before you two got into the water. 

The water was absolutely breathtaking, the setting sun shining against it also giving Blaise the perfect sun-kissed look. His skin was absolutely glowing, and his smile mixing with the music made you feel like you just entered a romcom. 

“You’re absolutely beautiful, amore mio.” Blaise whispered, humming softly to the tune of a song you didn’t know.”

“How’d you even get us to Italy?” you asked, chuckling softly at him.

“My family is Italian.” he hummed under his breath, raising his eyebrow at you. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I do!” you pouted. “I just didn’t think you’d have a bloody Portkey to Italy.” 

“Well, I do.” he chuckled softly, nuzzling his nose to yours. “And now you know.”

“Good.” you hummed, nodding softly.

The two of you stayed in the water for a long while. You waded down to where the water would hit your shoulders, Blaise following close behind you as you both started to try and dance in the water. The sun set and made way for the moon, shining down on you as echoes of your giggles filled the night.

“Why don’t we go get some dinner?” Blaise whispered softly, his lips brushing against yours. “You’ll have to try the dress back on eventually.

“I’ll race you!” you said, the both of you wading your way to the shoreline. Blaise had originally beat you, but stayed behind and let you go first. 

“I win!” you giggled, smiling as Blaise patted your skin dry. “Where are we going to eat?”

“This one restaurant I know, they serve the best pasta.” he whispered, kissing your lips as the both of you walked off of the shoreline and towards the plazas again.

You and Blaise were walking to the restaurant together, hands held together as he directed you. His hands had been all over you all day, especially when he helped you put on the dress and do your hair and makeup for the date.

Which led you to where you were right now, in a black dress to match his black slacks, the both of you standing in front of a rather fancy restaurant. 

“What are you going to get?” you asked him curiously, smiling softly as he walked you to a table. He pulled the chair out for you, his lips meeting yours once you sat down. 

“Carbonara,” he whispered, sitting across from you after adjusting his tie. “You?”

“I don’t know much about Italian dishes,” you whispered. “I mean, I know some things. I don’t know if I know everything on this menu though.”

“Maybe you should start with something you know.” Blaise whispered, his hand moving across the table to meet yours. “Lasagna?”

“I love lasagna.” you whispered, turning the menu to the drink section. “What about drinks though? There’s just so many.”

“Anything you want, honey.” he chuckled softly. “You can get wine if you want. I’ll take you back home, okay?”

“Okay.” you smiled softly, giggling as you looked at the menu.

The waiter walked up and took your orders, the food eventually arriving with steam coming out. “This is really pretty.” you whispered.

“It is, isn’t it?” Blaise asked, chuckling softly as his fork swirled through his carbonara.

You swirled your fork around the lasagna before taking a small bite, blowing on it before placing it on your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Is it?” Blaise whispered, smiling softly. “Do you want to try some of my stuff?”

“It looks really good,” you whispered softly, scooting a bit forward in your chair as he handed you a small bite. “Thank you.”

“Does it taste good?” he asked, smiling softly.

“It does.” you whispered, smiling brightly at the taste of it. “I love both of them. And this wine, it’s also really good too.”

“Is it?” Blaise asked, chuckling at that. “Do you want a bottle to take back to Hogwarts?”

“We can do that?” you asked.

“Yes we can.” Blaise nodded, smiling softly.

“We so should!” you said, taking another sip of your glass of wine.

“Merlin,” he whispered softly, his hand caressing yours. “I love you.”

You both had made your way back to Hogwarts, your feet stumbling as Blaise helped you down into the dungeons. Down the stairs, through the Common Rooms, and down to his dormitory. His scent wrapped around you as he wrapped you in his blankets, a small smile coming on your face as you realized it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes looking up at Blaise with a sleepy expression. “For this.”

You felt a lot better despite your impending test results, a lot calmer than you were not seven hours ago. This date was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to you.

“It’s okay,” Blaise whispered, his hand caressing your cheek as he kissed your forehead. “You need some rest, can you get some for me?”

“Okay.” you whispered, nodding softly.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAa this one was so fun to write oh my gawsh. beta-reading still sucks, but hey i got it done!

as alwayss, please like, comment, reblog, or whatever jazz you feel like doing. it really really helps out a lot more then you guys think it does, and i really really really appreciate it. if you have any requests, i have a masterlist full of characters i plan on writing for! so go check all that out, and have a great day!

[rubber-glovs]

I would like to speak up about the hermitcraft situation regarding Iskall.

If anything is wrong, please consult me via dms, I will have it fixed, thank you <3

My heart goes out to the victims of Iskalls manipulation and emotional abuse. I'm so sorry for what has happened to you. Reach out to the other victims or stay anonymous, it is completely your choice.

As to the hermitcraft fans, please do not force any of the hermits for information and do not go to the victims for proof or information. You are not owed it. They are just as stressed as we are. Do not stress them further.

We do not know the full story. Do not assume or speculate about what might've happened. Be grateful for the information we have been given, we are lucky to get this information.

Please do not assume anything about the other hermits in relation to this. Whether it's if they knew or if they have done something similar. This was from ONE HERMIT, ONE PERSON. That is all we know.

Do not make assumptions on why Stress left. We know there are no implications she is involved in the complaints and that False stated she left on her own accord

Hermitcraft is not ending, hermitcraft is not ruined and hermitcraft's community is not unsafe. This was ONE HERMIT, ONE PERSON. There is a difference between the whole server and one hermit.

Believe the victims. It may be hard for you, I can understand that. But with the overwhelming amount of evidence, you simply can not say he hasn't done something wrong. They have been put through a lot by him. It is hard to speak up about something like this, especially with Iskall and his superiority as a popular myct. Listen and hear their voices.

My thoughts and views:

Information and resources:

I feel disgusting and disappointed in Iskall's behaviour. He was trusted, he was loved and he was deemed as a wonderful youtuber. He took this power and his status to his advantage by emotionally abusing and manipulating fans and mods, people who looked up to him.

I also feel betrayed in a way. I never expected something like this to happen in the hermitcraft community but it did. It upsets me. All the people who were hurt had to stay quiet for so long in fear that they wouldn't be listened to. The hermits who are stressed out right now, deleting and removing Iskall from their accounts right now.

I feel terrible for those who were close to Iskall, online or offline. Having someone who you care about so much and seeing him as a close friend/family member and now figuring out what he's done must be hard for them.

I'm sorry for those who loved Iskall's content. I was drawn to him, too, but never got around to watching his videos.

I'm happy the hermits have handled this situation very professionally, allowing the victims to speak up on their own account and not saying much to keep their privacy.

Hermitcraft has become a massive part of my life in the past years. It hurts for me to see something like this. It goes to show that not everything you see online is real. People are different from how they act online.

Stay safe, thank you for reading <3

[limeade-l3sbian]

Im sure you have noticed many radfems talk of how men will use their spouse/partner as basically a second mother, having her do all the chores, the emotional labour, the organisation, etc. And I agree with this take.

But can we talk about how a lot of women, especially trad adjacent ones, also see their male partner as almost a parental figure. The amount of times i’ve seen women use different versions of “I just want a man that can think for me” is too many to count at this point. And it’s common. It’s seen in so much romance media, where the man takes control of everything, all the big decisions. It’s become a whole trope in heterosexual romance books and stories, of a rich man with control issues who sweeps some woman off her feet and makes it so she basically just disappears in his embrace.

This is gonna sound super harsh, but please know it isn’t meant as a critique of them as much as something i’ve noticed. I really do believe a lot of women who crave old school gender roles are very lazy, “useless”(to themselves) people who don’t want to amount to anything in life. The idea of struggle and hardship, heck, even just working TOWARDS something, it scares them so much they would rather be shapeless blobs controlled by someone else. That’s why they fetishize that traditional life style for women. Obviously WE know the women of that time and current time too in those types of homes aren’t just sitting around all day doing nothing, but I really do think a lot of women use it as an escapism fantasy from life.

The way a lot of them describe their sexual fantasies is similar, it’s always what is done to them, like they aren’t actually active participants, like they don’t actually have to make any choices.

I think the reason a lot of men crave a parental figure partner vs the reason a lot of women crave one is very different but they seem to be extremely common nonetheless. And with women I also know it’s a very complex issue of both society telling us our worth, the fact that women nowadays even as the more educated demographic STILL do more housework and emotional labour in relationships, capitalism being horrifyingly exhausting to live under, I could go on. But the point is, I think certain women crave a life of no consequences so that whole “i’m just a girl” and “he thinks for me, he makes the choices” mentality thats unfortunately had a huge uptick in popularity in recent years, I do think it’s women craving a parental figure as a partner. Not to say it’s anything linked to incest, i’m not trying to make freudian connections here, but I think the role of a parent is to take responsibility for the child and they crave that floating consequence free existence of a child.

I dunno, is what I’m saying completely deranged? Let me know.

Anon, I'm gonna try to be respectful and hold your hand when I say this... YOU'RE RIGHT! Thought I was gonna get condescending on your ass, huh? 😎🤪

Firstly, don't undercut your words with "I dunno." You made a completely logical point and casually explained yourself so eloquently I wouldn't be surprised if English wasn't your first language.

Secondly! I have seen this too! This weird, "take care of me" emphasis from both sides of the camp. Is it laziness? I wouldn't cast that aside for a second. But I think it's also this strange reaction to the present world. At least in the U.S., the economy is shit and people kind of already know that shit is just going to be hard, no matter what. And as humans, we have a weird tendency to swing the pendulum completely to the left or the right. So our reaction to very real, economic hardship that requires frequent "grinding" is to desire a complete release of the wheel, and to have someone else handle the hard stuff.

For some reason, according to social media, you either need to be grindset girl boss or a trad trophy wife which is...yeah. But I don't doubt your point being more of a reason for this. It's bizarre, and you're not crazy.