#it's been like. well over a decade since i last played it through. i'm one of the 5 people

[castleinthemist]

crimson shroud turning out to be the perfect game to play on the work commute. basiscape really did some fantastic work on this one huh

[everythingne]

christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]

Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.

warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

prev | next

-

You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.

"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.

"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.

"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.

"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.

"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.

"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.

"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.

"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"

"[And how come Danny knows?]"

"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"

"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"

"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"

"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.

"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.

"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."

"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"

"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.

"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.

"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"

"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.

"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.

"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.

"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.

"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."

You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.

--

You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.

"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.

"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."

"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.

"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"

"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."

"Because you're dating?"

"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"

"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.

"I know!" You huff.

Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,

"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."

Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."

Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.

"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."

"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.

"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."

Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.

"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.

And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"

"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."

"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."

"We're lucky we were only kissing."

"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.

"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."

"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--

"What?!"

"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."

"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.

"Carlos and Danny know." You say.

"Mhm."

"And... Carlos is your best friend--"

"--Arguably--"

"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."

"Uh-huh."

"...What if we ask them for help?"

"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.

"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.

"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."

"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."

"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."

"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."

--

"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.

"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"

"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."

"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."

"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.

"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."

You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."

"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.

"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"

"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.

"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.

"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.

"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."

"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.

"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."

"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."

"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.

"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."

"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.

"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"

The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.

And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.

-

y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴

liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..

y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3

joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT

user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??

maxverstappen: i still don't know who

charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film

charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴

liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...

charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.

user2: get me someone who will do this for me.

danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.

⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes

⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.

⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse

⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no

⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do

⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???

⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??

user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?

ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward

⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.

⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.

⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward

⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!

charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴

charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.

arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.

y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.

maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?

⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow

⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh

landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.

⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.

ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴

y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently

charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature

danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL

⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles

⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(

maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?

⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!

charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy

-

And by god, it starts working.

You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.

"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."

"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.

"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.

"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.

"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."

As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.

"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"

"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.

"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.

"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.

"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.

"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.

"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,

"Be more discreet, maybe?"

And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.

Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.

-

and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.

Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.

taglist. thank you!

@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash

[athenamikaelson]

Complaints and Harriet Styles Pt. 2

Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Warnings- strong language, innuendos, mentions of blood and death.

Word count- 2.5k 

 “Would it make me a bad person if I said he was hot?’ I asked Caroline as I sat in front of her vanity mirror as she curled my hair.  

“Y/n,” Caroline frowned at me as she looked at me through the mirror, “he either killed or is trying to kill our friends. He’s a bad guy, so don’t even think about it.” 

“I’m not saying I want to bang the guy or anything,” As I say that the the thought crosses my mind and it’s clear Caroline knows that as well as her frown deepens, “Care don’t get your Barbie hair in a twist. Even though his accent is dreamy and his blue eyes make my knees shake. I’m not going to try anything, obviously.” I say mockingly as Caroline watches me as if she’s somehow aged 100 years since our conversation began. Which you know isn’t possible because she’s literally immortal. 

“Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you. You’re either arguing with someone or hitting on them. Or even both!” She says as she throws her hands up in emphasis, the curler unplugging itself during her action. 

We both sit there in silence for a moment looking at the curler’s wire. I look up at her with a sly smile, “Does this mean we’re finally done? My ass hurts from sitting here and being your personal doll.” Caroline puts her hand on her hip with a displeased look on her face. 

“I haven’t finished curling the other half of your head, so turn around and shut it. And didn’t you just say I was the Barbie doll?” She says matter-of-factly as she replugs in the curler and waits for it to heat back up. 

“Ok well you are a Barbie doll, I’m more like that doll that Angelica had in Rugrats, y’know the one with fucked up hair and looks like she just got thrown into a blender.” I laugh at my own joke as Caroline rolls her eyes, a smile trying to make its way onto her face. 

I glance at my dark eyeshadow that makes my y/e/c eyes bright. 

“Why do I even have to go to this stupid dance, our school has like 14 a year. How does our town even have the budget for that? And why do we have to do weird decade dances?” 

“Y/N you’re going to homecoming, end of story. It’s our senior year. This past year has been so crazy that we deserve a little normalcy.” She says as she finishes my last section of hair. 

“Normalcy? You do realize that every dance we’ve had since last year has ended with someone dead or impaled right? It isn’t a Mystic Falls high school dance if it doesn’t end in blood!” Caroline just watches me in annoyance as she sprays my hair with hairspray, “accidentally” spraying some into my face.

“Bitch!” I cough out.

“Go get dressed!” She uses her strength to lift me up and push me over to her closet where my y/f/c dress is hanging.

I look over my shoulder, “I hate you.” 

Caroline smiles, “Love you too brat.”

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

I listen to the live band as I sip on the disgusting drink in my hand. Caroline who was supposed to chaperone tonight left me to go yell at Tyler for his wolfy crush or whatever on Klaus. I’m seriously debating on just walking myself home, since Caroline was my ride, as I watch on in disgust as teenagers grind against each other to the fast song the band is playing in the backyard of Tyler’s house. Somehow Tyler was able to put together a huge party since the gym was flooded last minute. Caroline didn’t seem suspicious but I on the other hand always think the worst is going to happen at any time, and with my friend group's history with dances I wouldn’t be surprised if something was going to go down tonight. I'm about to grab my bag and leave before shit goes down when I hear a British accent come from behind me. 

“Welcome everyone tonight,” I turn around, and low and behold that British fuck from Senior prank night is standing up on the stage in front of all of us, yapping about something. 

“This is a long time coming,” He says as he watches someone from the crowd with a smirk on his face. I follow his eye line to see Stefan staring back at him. Yikes. I look back to the Brit but find his eyes staring in my direction. I don’t think he’s looking at me until I send a look of disgust at him which makes the smirk on his face deepen. Fuck me. Wait. No. I quickly turn around and start to make my way to the edge of the party hoping to make my escape before I get sucked into whatever bullshit the Scooby gang is going to try to drag me into. I smile to myself as I’m about to be successful in my escape as my vision is blocked by something. Said something bumps me backwards throwing me off balance and I wait to hit the ground as I start falling, but nothing comes. I look up to see Klaus grabbing ahold of the top of my arm, keeping me from falling down.  

“What a fucking cliche,” I say to myself angrily. Klaus looks at me inquisitively. 

“What’s a cliche?” He asks me with that stupidly hot accent as I rip my arm away from his hold and put another foot's distance between us.

“You catching me,” I tell him but he only looks confused, “Y’know in romcoms when the girl trips and falls but doesn’t actually fall because the random hot main guy catches her. It’s a big fucking cliche.” I say huffing as Klaus watches me with that stupid fucking smirk on his face.

“And I’m the main hot guy?” He asks, clearly trying to get me to go along with his current ego trip.

“No, you’re not. Ryan Gosling is the hot main guy or Paul Rudd,” I let out a satisfactory sigh at Paul Rudd, “You’re more of the evil boos villain in video games.” 

“And what’s so wrong with being the villain?” He asks me as he takes a step towards me. 

I look at him with what I can only guess looks like a “are you fucking kidding me” look. 

“Literally everything. That’s literally the whole point of being the villain.” I put my hand out stopping him from stepping closer. Klaus watches me closely for a second too long. His gaze makes me quite uncomfortable because I can’t tell if he wants to kill me for speaking to him like I just did or applaud me for having the balls to. God, sometimes I just need to learn to shut the fuck up. 

“Dance with me.” He states as he puts his hand out waiting for me to give him my hand in return. My gaze goes from his face to his hand multiple times before I shake my head in annoyance. 

“No way dude,” I say as I start to book it back towards the house away from him. I don’t get far though because he’s in front of me again with a determined look on his stupidly hot face. God why does it always have to be the bad guys that are hot? 

“Either you dance with me, or I start killing your friends off one by one. I wonder where that blond friend of yours is, Tyler’s little girlfriend.” He says with a dark glint in his eyes. 

“Why?” I try to hold my ground even though I’m pretty sure I’m about to start pissing myself any second now. 

“Why what?” he asks me as he watches me.

“Why do you want to dance with me? Theirs like 200 other girls here that I’m sure would just jump at the chance to dance with some British guy.”

Klaus just shrugs his shoulder as if he himself doesn’t even have an answer to the question. 

“Because none of them have had the displeasure of catching my eye.” 

“And let me guess, I have?” I ask him. He doesn’t give me an answer though, only reaches out his hand once again waiting for me to take it. Annoyed I slap my hand in his and drag him to the dance floor. Once I push us into the middle of a big group, I turn to him.

“Don’t be pissy if I step on your toes.” Klaus just lets out a huff of a laugh as he drags my body closer to him so my chest is touching his. A shudder goes through my body at the contact and I mentally curse myself for the reaction. Fuck he smells good. Jesus Y/N get a grip, he’s just a guy. A thousand-year-old hot guy, but still just a guy. I look up to find Klaus already staring at me, with a knowing smirk on his face. I just roll my eyes as I try to play it off cool as he sways me to the now slow song.

“So tell me, how did you become friends with my doppelganger and her little group of followers?” A weird feeling of sadness flows through me at his question as I realize he only asked me to dance for information on my friends. 

“We grew up together. Small town like this everyone knows each other, sadly.” I say looking off to the distance and watching the other couples converse lovingly with one another. 

“Why sadly?” He asks me, and for a second I could’ve sworn I heard actual curiosity. I glance back at him and shrug. 

“I just hate this town. I never liked people knowing my business, and everyone here is so complacent with their normal lives. They never question anything or want to know more about anything other than what happens in our weird ass town.” I blush as I realize I just rambled on to a complete psycho about my feelings. But, the look on Klaus’s face isn’t one of annoyance or humor like the other people I’ve vented to usually have on their faces. His face turns from contemplation to understanding. 

“I know what you mean,” He says as he expertly twirls me around, “when I was a boy I grew up in a small village where the wasn’t much chance for prospering. I loved the arts and knew I would never be able to do anything with it. It made me angry. So I can understand your resentment.” He tells me and for a second I forget that he’s the blood-thirsty monster ruining my friend’s lives. 

“You like art?” He looks down at me with a soft smile as if the subject brings out a different side of him. 

“I’ve loved it for over a thousand years. The way emotions can be shown through a canvas and bring out emotion so foreign is unlike anything else I found over a millennium of living,” His eyes trail down to mine, “What do you think?” 

I nod softly in agreement, “I love art. Not really painting because I’m kind of shit at it, but sketching and just looking at art. Although I’m not a fan of this new-age art where someone can splash a canvas with a line of color and sell it for a million dollars. I like art that means something to someone. Art that when you look at it you can feel the emotions that the artist was feeling, every move of the brush stroke made with heart and emotion.” Klaus nods along to my rambling again with a soft look on his face. A look that I can’t quite decipher since it’s on the face of one of the scariest men in the world. 

As the song comes to an end I reluctantly let go of Klaus’s hands. He stares at me for a moment and I think he’s just going to turn around and walk off realizing he didn’t get the information he wanted but then a small laugh escapes his lips and he shakes his head. I watch on in slight confusion wondering if he’s having some kind of stroke or something. 

“You’re not like them you know,” he must notice my confusion because he continues, “like your friends. You’re nothing like them.” I pang of hurt pierces my chest as I turn away and start to walk off, “Well screw you too.” 

“I didn’t mean that as an insult,” He says hastily as he grabs my arm turning me back towards him, “You’re friends they’re small-minded. They think of only themselves and not the world around them, or how amazing it can be.” I go to interrupt him and tell him not to insult my friends but he cuts me off. 

“You need something bigger than this little town. Something that brings you life. When I originally saw you that night in the gym I thought you were just going to be like the rest of them. But you surprised me Y/n, and not many people can say that.” 

I just stare at him in amazement for what seems like forever as I try to piece together everything he just told me. In my stupor though a woman approaches Klaus and whispers something to him which makes his originally light demeanor change to something dark. The woman walks away as Klaus looks at me once more.

“Whenever you decide you want to be a part of something bigger, see something other than this little town I’d be happy to show you. All you need to do is ask.” He tells me as he grabs my hand and places a chaste kiss upon it. I still can't get the balls to say anything as he gives me one last glance before he follows behind the woman. 

What the actual fuck.

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

I walked up to my front porch after getting dropped off by Matt because I guess Tyler drugged Caroline with vervain to save her from a pack of mind-controlled hybrids so that’s why she couldn’t bring me home. Sometimes I really hate my friend group. Why can’t for once we deal with normal people's problems like pop quizzes or acne? Like why does not one person in that entire group have a pimple on their skin? That’s the most supernatural thing going on here.

I’m about to open my front door when a small envelope catches my eye at the bottom of my feet. I look over my shoulder and only see Matt as he waits for me to enter my house. I wave to him with the envelope in hand and walk inside my house. I hastily open the envelope and pull out a piece of thick canvas paper. The paper is covered with a beautiful sketch of what appears to be an open field covered in flowers with grazing horses in the distance. Being so engrossed in the sketch I didn't notice the small note on the back. 

“There’s a whole world out there just waiting for you to experience, love. When you’re ready to experience it, I’ll be waiting.” – Klaus

Taglist-

@grac3aph3lion @megmcc2003 @kollover24 @nameunknownsthings

[lairofsentinel]

Since this user's posts seem to have been deleted in previous opportunities I copy-paste their words here because they express exactly what I feel about this game. Dragon Age has died, unfortunately.

I'm a big time Dragon Age lover and have enjoyed every game in the series. Personally, I think Inquisition is the best in the series. And I was excited for Veilguard right up until I actually began playing it. Now, I want to clear things up at the start as to what I look for and believe makes a good Dragon Age game. To start, I DON'T CARE ABOUT COMBAT. I. Do. Not. Care.

You can make it Origins tactical. DA2 fast tactical. DAI hybrid. God of War action, I don't care. Dragon Age has always had combat that was...fine. A nice distraction and breakup in between the bits I actually care about: narrative ROLEPLAYING, story, characters, and exploration. I don't give a crap how great the combat is if the narrative roleplaying and writing are poor, I'm not playing BioWare titles for amazing gameplay. I am here for the story, the characters, and the roleplaying. Truth is, for a time I considered DATV's combat to be the best in the series.

And this is why I feel the game is a terrible Dragon Age, because it lacks or fails to respect those elements concerned with narrative roleplaying, story, characters, and exploration. Now, in many reviews and online videos you'll hear some reference often to the drop in writing quality. And a lot of time people will incorrectly say that the writing with the characters is to "modern" or "Marvel quippy" or not "dark" enough. I think these people are wrong, they recognize there is a drop in writing quality from previous games but aren't able to articulate why that is.

Dragon Age has never adopted any sort of faux medieval speech and vocabulary (though we'll get into this more later). This is a series that used "epic fail" as a thing someone uttered in the very first game. It's always had anachronistic dialogue and banter. So why is it such a drop then? Why is it considered poor? Simple. This is a game that does not believe in the world it has setup for over a decade. It does not believe in or engage properly with its own world and lore. I mean, look no further than the title "The Veilguard" a phrase that is never uttered by anyone in our group, and further proof it was a last minute marketing change. Compare to Inquisition where the title is apparent from the start in the game and has actual meaning.

You see, characters in DATV do not feel or react to events the way they should based on the lore. Why is no one constantly asking what the hell the Inquisitor is doing? The Inquisitor is kind of a BIG DEAL when it comes to Solas and Elven Gods, my Inquisitor drank from the WELL OF SORROWS! So why are we sitting around thinking at the start, "hmm lemme think who I can contact who might know more." The Herald of Andraste! They know more Rook, the guy that is technically your boss. The Inquisitor! Who else have you been working for this entire time? Who do you think told Varric to recruit you?!

But even removing the Inquisitor, the Elven Gods being real and also near synonymous with the old Tevinter Gods is kind of a BIG DEAL. It was only a theory fans crafted long ago that slowly revealed itself to be true. And it completely upends known religious dogma on all sides. Yet, why aren't people we meet going through a massive existential crisis? For instance, the Veil Jumpers we initially meet were presumably told off-screen about Fen'Harel, and are seemingly cool with this massive knowledge alone. But then we talk about those two other Gods being released and they're like, "well, shit those two aren't good." As if they have any clue if the fables about those Gods are real when we previously just upended everything they thought about the Dreadwolf! Why are you acting like this is another Tuesday?! Your entire religion is wrong. In that same conversation, Strife notes "Solas might be a bastard, but compared to the Evunaris? Let's just say they weren't know for being kind rulers."

My brother in Anduril, what are you talking about! Elven religion teaches that Elgar'nan was so beloved by the Earth that it "the land brought forth great birds and beasts of sky and forest, and all manner of wonderful green things." And that he fought the jealous Sun that tried to burn the land and all beasts away. Custom says that he and Mythal, "created the world as we know it" after defeating the Sun. He is literally described as one of the "good" Gods. WHY ARE YOU ASSUMING HE IS EVIL! It's like finding out Satan is real, but not as evil as have come to believe and then being told Jesus Christ is back and a devout Christian going, "well shit, that can't be good." WHAT?!

The same goes for Andraste and the Chant of Light, it took me 30 hours of playing before ONE character mentioned Andraste and the implications with the Chant and it was never brought up again. Our entire party is seemingly made up of unphased atheists. Now compare to something like Inquisition which explored this aspect HARD and was amazing for it. You'd get into great debates with religious figures and party members about the implications of Corypheus actually being a Tevinter Magister of old. And you'd talk about what it means towards the religious dogma preached and how much is true. And these intense political and religious discussions are present in every previous game, and not confined to a single conversation with one party member where it is seemingly resolved.

These conversations do not happen in DATV because there is no depth to the writing or engagement with the world. The Elven Gods are evil and need to be stopped. That's it. We don't need to think about the implications this has on Dalish customs and religion. Fuck it, all the Dalish are going to still wear their Vallaslin slave brand tattoos. Let's forget about Trespasser implying Solas was removing them from followers coming to join him. Let's even forget they were likely all told at this point that they are slave brands, nope still going to wear them yet speak blasphemy with every sentence against our Gods. No one cares about Andraste or The Maker or the Chant. Big deal if these Elven Gods contradict the overwhelming majority religion in Thedas. Not a single party member has religious or cultural objections to killing the Elven Gods; not a problem. Not one single elf wants to join Solas in tearing down The Veil and getting immortality again?

Again, let's forget about Trespasser setting up Solas gathering MANY Elven followers from Dalish clans who would be super inclined to join him after experiencing CENTURIES of discrimination and slavery by humans. The better question is what Elves wouldn't join Solas at the start? And what Elves wouldn't look at the other two Gods and go, "meh, maybe we should give them a try. They can't be worse than humans, right?" In DA2 you had elves joining The Qun to escape the discrimination of humans, but not ONE ELF wants to join Solas or Elgar'nan? Those Ancient Elves in the Temple of Mythal? I guess they all died, right?

This extends to EVERY single element of Dragon Age that previously had depth to it, it now has been completely removed. Those murdering Antivan Crows? Oh, they're just good Italian Mob Family that protect their city. Tevinter? Yes, it has poor people, but we're trying to do better. Oh, slavery? No, no we don't show that here. The Qun? The what now? No, they are all Antaam now, and so that means they are all generic evil warlords. No, they don't even attempt to follow their own hardcore view of The Qun like when Templars split from the Chantry, they're just warlords now that like plunder. Dwarves and their rigid Caste society? We don't do that here. Elves and racism across Thedas? Elves used to experience racism? News to me, what's a Shemlen? Never heard of that term, we like all humans. Pirates? That is insensitive, we are Lords of Fortune and we are sure to return any cultural artifacts found to their rightful owners; it belongs in a museum after all. The fucking Fade and spirits? Wait, you mean its different than generic fantasy spirit world? I'm sorry, that's too complicated here.

This either intentional disregard of the lore or plain ignorance also extends to environmental design. The asset reuse from Inquisition is particularly hilarious and must speak to the developers not having time after the switch from MP. Why are the same statues found in Val Royeaux in DAI also in Tevinter and Antiva? Why are those stupid Fen'Harel Wolf statues EVERYWHERE? Even in the catacombs of other Elven Gods! There are no statues of Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain. Nothing for June or Anduril. Dirthamen. Falon'Din. Nothing. No, the only Gods that seem to get statues are coincidentally the ones who already had assets created for DAI or past titles that could be reused. Hmmm.

This continues into character designs too, why do the Veiljumpers and Shadow Dragons all dress richly? They are supposed to be poor as fuck. There's a codex entry about Veiljumpers finding a lost cache of old ancient elven armor and weapons and so boom they all get to dress like High Elven Lords and not the dirty, poor, wandering Dalish clans they are supposed to come from. Why do this? There isn't even an attempt to explaining why the Shadow Dragons, an organization supposed to be secretive, has branded clothing in bright rich colors and fabrics for all members. Naturally, it must be incredibly difficult for Tevinter authorities to not identify them.

This lack of depth and verisimilitude, naturally, affects all the characters. Because in this game you cannot roleplay and you cannot ask questions. In Dragon Age Inquisition, once you started the game, you could immediately interrogate Varric about what happened to every DA2 character despite the Inquisitor never meeting them, you know because it respects its players. You could speak to shop keepers, blacksmiths, your horse master. You could interrogate every single person to learn more about them and the world. The same goes for your player character in DA2 and Origins. You show in Denermin and find yourself knee deep in a quest to help Wade the Blacksmith craft the perfect armor. Here you can't actually speak to a single shopkeeper to ask questions and get some lore bits. You can't ask party members questions about their background, religious beliefs, upbringing, their factions, etc. You can't ask any returning characters any questions either about what they've been doing. Enter a brand new area? Great, you're not asking anyone questions about this never before seen place.

How does a lost Dwarven thaig survive every single blight? How are their immortal lichs in Neverra? How long has that been a thing? Why haven't they told anyone about the Elven gods or any other knowledge they've accumulated in an immortal lifespan? If immortality is so "easy" why can't Solas just do that to restore the Elves? Why are the Venatori, Tevinter Supremacists, following Elven Gods? Wouldn't that be a major identity crisis? Why would Antaam, who still preach the Qun, follow an Elven God that speaks blasphemy with ever breadth? Sshhhh, no questions. You get what is directly told to you and that's it, no follow-up questions.

Party members do not conflict with each other or interrogate each other's beliefs which is why their banter feels inconsequential and meaningless. Lucanis is a assassin, he kills people for money. The same organization that marked Zevran for death for failing a contract. The same one that took him as a kid and trained him to murder, often brutally, for coin. And yet no one really seems to care. He's just a nice Italian assassin from a nice assassin organization. Who cares. Let's instead talk about cooking, at length. Harding, a devout follower of Andraste, has no qualms with Elven Gods wreaking havoc on known religion. We get one conversation you can tell her to believe what she wants, and that's the end of that debate. Bellara also gets about two whole conversations about the conflict concerning her Gods wreaking havoc, both easily resolved. We don't need to think about any larger implications or doubt her loyalty when the Elven pantheon are seeking to restore her people that have been discriminated against since forever. Emmerich, a necromancer of Neverra, apparently has no religious belief. A codex entry even states that those of the Mourn Watch don't know where the soul goes after death. They don't like to think about it. Buddy, Mortalitasi belief is literally that our souls return to the Void alongside The Maker, but to keep balance a exchange must be wrought with The Fade to allow a spirit to house the now empty vessel. How do you not know the religion and customs of your own faction and land? This man has a whole quest line about funerary rights, yet not ONCE mentions religion and what he believes happens after death?! Sshhhh, no questions. No thinking.

Hey, remember The Fade? Remember how mages go to dream there every night. Remember how The Black City is always visible there? No? Well, we don't either. You won't see The Black City in The Fade. You might see it in The Crossroads in a closed off section, even though it is NOT The Fade. Oh, we're going to have you physically enter The Fade in multiple quest lines and no one will think it's a big deal. No, you still can't see The Black City. Now, The Fade is reduced to nothing more than your generic fantasy spirit world. It has none of the previous rules and lore that bound it before. Demons can bind to non-mages and we won't attempt to explain it. Solas fucks with The Veil and not a single mage notices a change in their dreams when they sleep at night. No biggie.

Lastly, let's return at last to the actual minutiae of writing. I stated at the start the writing isn't bad because of Marvel quippiness, which the series has always had. I was partly lying. Yes, the series has always had anachronistic dialogue. It has had meme language in its own previous titles. But, it was just that, a small joke here and there. For the most part the series actually tried to use it's own sort of "older" speech patterns. I think a perfect example has to do with Taash, she eventually finds her own identity and declares she is proudly "non-binary." Literally stating, "so, I'm non-binary." I have no issue with this sort of inclusivity in Dragon Age, it's what the series is known for. Yet, why does that sound wrong? Simple, it's far too anachronistic. It doesn't belong in Dragon Age. In Inquisition, Dorian let's us know he's gay. But he doesn't say, "I'm gay!" or "I'm a homosexual" those terms would not exist in his world. Instead he says, "I prefer the company of men."

And it's these little subtle changes in writing that makes it feel all the more different. We went from "I once ventured in to The Fade to serve the Old Gods of Tevinter in person. I found there only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. Now I shall return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world gone wrong. Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the Gods. And it was empty."

To: "Well, shit. That can't be good."

So, what do we have when all is said and done? Well, we have a decent generic fantasy action game. An intentional attempt by the developers to remove every edge from the world of Dragon Age in place of a very simple, easy to understand world with not much depth beyond what you see. You don't need to think, just play and have fun. This is beyond turning a MP game into a SP game, which so blatantly obvious in this game. DA2 was developed in 16 months, but is carried strong by its writing. You see, nothing prevented them from just acknowledging their own world they created. It costs very little to write around what already exists. Even if you can't make no assets or redesign the world. Writing is cheap and having characters voice these elements is not as costly as a redesign. No, they chose to remove the edge in every element because this was design intentionally for the masses with easy to understand world and zero depth.

But I wanted to play Dragon Age. I wanted to get into intense religious debates with party members as known lore is completely upended. I wanted to debate Elvish clans deciding to join Solas or the other Gods due to their treatment by human society. I wanted to debate the ethics of necromancy with the Mortalitasi of Neverra's Crypts. I wanted to engage in intense debating with Solas on the ethics of his goal. I wanted to see Tevinter react to a real push for anti-slavery and actually see the slavery in the slave capital of the world. I wanted to butt heads with the Antivan Crows and call them out for the murderers they are. I wanted to see the Black Divine and debate the Chant of Light with them. I wanted to speak to the Archon of Tevinter and see how he felt about the Venatori's past efforts in Inquisition. Hey, what happened to Meredith Reborn in Kirkwall and her idol and Red Templar worshipers? Forget about it.

We got none of this. I got a game that is pretty much disrespectful of its own world. I waited 10 years for this? Why even bother if this is the result? They may as well have just killed every previous character we ever knew, including Solas, offscreen and started anew with this game. Because as a Dragon Age game and sequel, it's terrible and no returning character is how they should be.

And when we get to the ending, that's pretty much what they did. Everything you did in all the past games? Well, that was pointless. Everyone is probably dead. King Alistair. Gaspard. Celene. King Bhelen. The Arl of Redcliffe. The Divine. The Circle of Magi. The Templars. The Seekers. Everything, everyone, and every organization that existed in the South is likely dead and destroyed. And now Dragon Age can become what they wanted, a generic fantasy IP.

But I just wanted to play Dragon Age.

[forcefemdemonprincess]

I finished a little fantasy themed short story I've been cooking up for the last few days, with lots of corruption and forcefem kinks, if anyone wants to give it a read!

One ordinary day, I sense something reaching out to me, from the faraway depths of the material plane; the feeble presence of a summoning spell, beckoning me towards it's caster. It would be simple to ignore the call, yet as my curiosity gets the best of me, I deign to answer, following the thread of conjuration magic to it's source.

My senses take in the sight of a stone tower, a summoning circle scribed upon the very center of the floor, the candles surrounding it flickering with a faint orange flame. Beyond it there is a wooden work desk and chair, a simple bed, and walls covered in bookshelves, all with disorganized tomes and scrolls strewn about; and a large window on either side through which the starlight shines in a moonless night, curtains billowing in the breeze.

Standing before the circle stands a half-elven wizard, seeming to be in his twenties in human years - though elven blood makes it difficult to ascertain, he could be anywhere from two decades to a couple centuries old - with short brown hair and the lithe, frail frame of a scholar and a smooth face with rather comely features. He chants the summoning spell, his voice filled with uncertainty as he slowly sounds out the incantation as if the words were alien to his lips.

And they likely are. Far from an archmage of yore, the young man seems to have little more skill than a mediocre apprentice. The binding runes around the summoning circle, meant to keep the caster safe and the fiend contained, are all written incorrectly, not that it would have worked with a demon of my caliber to begin with. Even the spellbook he holds is old, certainly passed down to his hands by another, perhaps a mentor or loving relative.

The candles flicker, then go out entirely. The wizard stops his chanting and takes a step back startled, and slowly I rise from the summoning circle. I choose a relatively nonthreatening form, a scantily clad, mostly human-looking woman, save for the pink skin, curved horns, and a thin tail which ends in a heart shape. The candles light up again, their flames painting the room a bright, pink hue.

He immediately looks surprised, as if he'd never expected his spell to work to begin with, but once the shock has passed, he speaks in a shaky voice:

"I-I am the mage Theodoros! I bind you to my service, o' fiend!"

It takes great effort to stifle the urge to laugh. Not only did the fool forget to put up wards or use any binding spells to speak of - not that it would have mattered - he made the oldest beginner's mistake in the book and told a demon his name, not to mention his utter lack of confidence and authority, the wizard paints a laughable picture.

Yet, it's been so long since I've had a mortal plaything to toy with... And this one is so cute and pathetic I simply must have him. And thus, I decide to play along:

"Of course... Master," I smirk deviously. His ecstatic grin makes it clear the half-elf holds no suspiscion of my subterfuge whatsoever. His naivete is baffling, truly. "What is it you desire? Power? Knowledge of dark, forbidden spells? Or are you simply looking to fulfill your wordly lusts?"

The adorable blush of embarrassment that quickly takes over his pale cheeks at the mere suggestion of sex is almost enough to make this worth it already. Virgins are especially fun to break.

"Uh, the spells and power, yes." He calms himself with deep breaths. "I want to become a powerful archmage."

"And you decided to take a shortcut, did you? Very intelligent. Why slave away over dusty old tomes if you can drink directly from the fountain."

He smiles wide at but a few honeyed words. "Exactly! You get it. Well then... Go ahead and uhm, make me stronger. With your demon magic and all."

"Gladly. Could you give me your hand, for but a moment?"

"What? Hells no, I'm not letting a demon touch me, that sounds far too dangerous!" Oh, now he's thinking about risks and consequences. I almost roll my eyes.

I pout. "Come now, it's only through contact that I could lend you my power. Besides! I'm bound to your service, remember? I couldn't harm you if I wanted to."

"Oh... That's true. Alright, do it." He extends his hand, as if for a handshake. I grasp it tightly, and pull him closer into the summoning circle, nearly making him trip, and bring his hand to my lips. They sear with infernal flames, branding a lipstick mark into the flesh of the back of his hand despite how he whimpers and uselessly tries to pull it away.

Before he can issue any further complaint, the blissful heat and raw strength of my demonic mana flows into his being, making him gasp, his eyes momentarily flashing a bright pink hue and his dick becoming painfully hard, his size... Unremarkable. Slightly below average, perhaps.

"I... I thought you said you couldn't harm me." Theodoros says, out of breath.

"Oh, don't be such a baby... A little bit of pain is no harm at all. Quite the opposite, in fact! Don't you feel it?"

"I feel... Hot?" He raises his hands, the tip of his fingers shimmering, brimming with arcane might.

"Go on, try it out!" I grin.

He walks over to a large window that leads to a balcony, trembling with anticipation. He extends his hands, and an unending torrent of fuchsia colored hellfire, hot enough to melt steel, erupts up into the air. He laughs maniacally, drunk with the power and the demonic magic seeping into his body and mind from the infernal brand on his hand. The lustful magic overtakes him, and his concentration in the spell is broken as he orgasms on the spot.

"Hah... I only ever managed to make sparks and light candles before. This is incredible!" He says, with a giddy smile and an unfocused gaze.

"And it's only the beginning," I reply with a smirk as he walks back to me.

"What more can you teach me?" He asks excitedly.

"Oh, plenty. You can manipulate hellfire, bend minds, change into whatever shape you like... And that's not even mentioning the libraries worth of knowledge I've accrued over the years."

"That's... Fucking hells, that's everything I wanted and more." His chest heaves up and down, the adrenaline not going down in the slightest... Nor does his raging arousal. "Can you... Do something about this?" He asks, pointing to the tent in his robes, which refuses to go down despite him already having finished once.

"Oh, plenty! Why don't you come over here and let me show you?"

"I meant more... Just make it stop? With magic or something? It's driving me mad!"

"It's a side effect of demonic magic. I can't make it go away... But I can help relieve you of it in a more direct, and much more pleasurable manner." I say, sliding aside the strap that holds my upper garments to my shoulder, revealing one of my beautifully shaped breasts, while pumping more arousal through his brand. "Just let me out of this summoming circle and I'll show you," I say, dropping the other strap to let my chest bare in it's entorety for his viewing pleasure. I could step out of the circle any time I wanted, but it's far more delicious to make him submit willingly to my whims.

"Hhrn... Alright, fine!" He walks over and rubs his sole on the chalk circle, opening a passage. I step through and put my hand on his chest, giving him a slight push against the wall before pressing my lips to his, forcing a delicious throaty moan out of him as I press my body into him.

My longue, forked tongues explores his mouth, swirling around his in a long, sloppy kiss, grabbing onto his ass roughly enough go make him squeal again. He eventually pushes me off to gasp for air, a strand of saliva lewdly connecting our mouths.

"Mo... More..." He pleads in a breathy voice. "I want to fuck you." He nearly growls, consumed with lust.

"As you wish," I say with a grin, and touch his forehead. With a flash of light the mage is teleported onto the bed, his clothes dropping onto the floor where he stood.

I slowly walks towards the bed, taking off the rest of my garments, making him writhe with anticipation as my curvy, hourglass shaped frame comes into view. I run my hand along my smooth pink skin as I get on the bed, getting between his legs.

He bites his thick, luscious lips as I lick his length from shaft to tip, nearly shooting his load then and there, before I hold it down with a bit of magic. Not yet.

I take his tip in my mouth, wrapping my lips tightly around it and swirling my tongue, feeling the cutie wizard get all wet for me with his pre. I suck aggressively hard, making him moan and twitch and give pathetic little bucks of his hips into my mouth as it envelops his unimpressive member completely.

I make him ride on that very edge of release for countless minutes each stretching on to feel like hour, watching him melt and turn into a writhing, mewling mess, trying everything, from thrusting his hips, to grabbing my horns to try and push me away, all to no avail, until he's barely forming coherent sentences, begging and pleading with tears in his eyes.

When I suddenly pull it out of my lips and release the spell, letting him drench himself in his seed in a mind-numbing orgasm that goes on and on endlessly, the wizard's wjole body shaking and spasming, howling moans escaping his throat.

Each spurt of his seed, that becomes increasingly thin and watery the longer his peak goes on, drains his already somewhat petite member slowly of it's size. When it subdues at last, he's lost about half of it, and with it, you can clearly see how his body and face have gotten softer, his hips wider, waist slimmer, and nipples puffier as his chest begins to form into breasts. His irises begin to glow with that unnatural pink glow from before, and two small pointy protrusions begin to subtly grow along the sides of his head.

Theodoros is, however, too much of a giggly, horny mess at this point to notice, let alone care. "His" eyes half-lidded and a giddy, drooling grin rests on the "man's" lips, nary a coherent thought in the mage's mind... Yet that diminutive dick remains hard, hips bucking needily. Theo's eyes find mine with a pleading look, and the slut manages to speak, in a moany voice:

"Ple... Please..."

I smirk wide, straddling the weak-willed wizard, and letting their now diminutive dick enter me. The pleasure of having it in me as I start riding it is negligible, but the delight and satisfaction of watching this pretty little thing unravel under my will more than makes up for it.

I bounce on it, roughly, wrapping my hand around the wizard's throat as they look into my eyes, pinned under my body as I fuck their brains out, riding their cock until they're chaining one orgasm right into another without stop.

This time, there's no spell to make their dicklet hold back. They cum over and over and over again, shallow spurts of weak, watery seed shooting again and again inside me as I quickly drain away their virility and the rest of their size until there's nearly nothing left anymore of the wizard's dick.

Their last spurt comes with great difficulty, painfully making them writhe and yielp until they shoot out a tiny, pretty little gemstone, brimming with life. Theodoros cums her soul out, and with it goes the rest of her masculinity and self, sealing her transformation into a lesser demon, with a cute, lithe frame, a pair of small horns on her head, a tail, with a heart shaped tip, and pink eyes with slitted pupils.

In a moment, a large demonic cock forms onto my crotch, and Theo instinctively spreads her legs, presenting a smooth, bare crotch. I press my tip between her legs and push, her body yielding to my will and my cock, shapeshifting her pussy and womb into existence to better serve my needs.

"Good girl. You'vrle yielded your soul to me, and now... You're bound into my service, eternally. From now on, I rename you... Theodora. And you may adress me as mistress, Thea."

"Yes... Mistress." Her mind seems to object momentarily to the idea, but the thought is quickly discarded. Whilst holding her soul, Thea's mind is as malleable as her body. The fledgling demoness can't even will herself to want to resist. The very thought brings her pain... And obedience brings bliss.

"That's my good girl... You and I are going to have a lot of fun."

[s10127470]

My Ideal Revival of the Disney Heroes Franchise

What you’re looking at is the official logo for a now defunct franchise known as Disney Heroes.

Disney Heroes was basically meant to serve as the sister…..or more appropriately, the brother franchise of the Disney Princesses, with the focus being placed on the male heroes of the Disney pantheon.

The franchise initially started back in 1999, but under the name of Disney Adventurers. Not only that, but the line-up was rather small, consisting of the titular protagonists of Hercules, Aladdin, Peter Pan, and their most recent film at the time, Tarzan.

The franchise mainly existed through toys, with some notable merchandising besides that here and there.

The franchise remained this way until about 2003, when it got a notable revamp.

The franchise would get its current name and it would expand the roster quite a bit. The new members included Merlin and Arthur from The Sword in the Stone, Robin Hood, Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty, and Li Shang from Mulan.

I also think Simba from The Lion King was a part of the roster as well, I think I remember seeing him on a backpack done for the franchise.

But in 2005, the Disney Heroes franchise had a another revamp…this one notably different from the previous ones.

Although the franchise mainly existed through toys and play-sets that more or less stayed faithful to their respective films, these however…..

Your eyes are not deceiving you….these were actual action figures created and designed by Disney for the Disney Heroes franchise…..and I couldn’t be anymore happier.

Hercules looks like an ancient Greek warrior with the golden armor, plus he’s carrying a big xiphos and a golden shield with the face of a lion.

Peter Pan is now sporting some tan gloves, boots, and ever a mask, carrying a bow and quiver of arrows alongside his trusty dagger.

And Captain Hook has a more swashbuckling look, and his rapier has been replaced with a big ass cutlass!

Prince Phillip and Maleficent were also apart of this line-up of action figures as well.

Phillip had a more knight-like appearance, even having a helmet with a golden falcon on top.

And Maleficent…well, she was in her dragon form.

Sadly, only five action figures were made in this style….

And it’s a shame, given that there were plans to revamp the franchise with a more action-oriented style.

These designs by Disney animator Ruben Procopio for planned future figures for the franchise really highlight this…

Aladdin was gonna look like an Arabian Knight, complete with a dagger and a huge ass scimitar that would make Cloud Strife impressed.

Tarzan was gonna go for a Conan the Barbarian-esque look, complete with a headband, a vest, a tooth necklace, boots, and even a quiver filled with spears, knives, and arrows.

And as you could see, they were even gonna introduce The Beast from Beauty and the Beast as a new member of a roster, with the appearance of a warrior prince and a mace as his weapon.

Unfortunately, these figures never came to be....

Although Disney Heroes franchise was doing decently fine, it was nowhere near the level of success of the Disney Princesses.

As a result of that, Disney slowly but surely phased out the franchise over the next three years.

By 2008, the Disney Heroes franchise silently ended, only merchandising through coloring books and their only new addition since 2003 being....of all characters....Milo Thatch from Atlantis: The Lost Empire.

So yeah....that's pretty much the story of the Disney Heroes franchise.

It's honestly a shame because I could totally see this franchise being pretty successful today.

And given the rise of nostalgia and crossovers in media over the last decade, I could see this being an absolute goldmine for all parties involved.

And today, I'm gonna share on how I think a revival of the Disney Heroes franchise should play out.

.It would aim more towards a older audience, mostly teenagers, similar to the Disney Villains franchise. It wouldn't really focus all that much on toys like the Disney Princesses, though there would be some figurines here and there, instead focusing on media that's more accessible with a older crowd like novels, comic books, video games, and even animation.

.Unlike it's previous iteration, and to that extension the Disney Princesses, it would be more gender-neutral, featuring male and female representatives of most of the represented films as members of the roster.

.Also unlike the Princesses, this franchise has its own backstory. Various Disney villains have joined forces in other to further their respective goals. In retaliation, a group of various Disney heroes, led by Merlin, have united to fight against the villainous alliance and protect their respective realms. I know it's a pretty simple premise, but I think it's the perfect that way.

.The franchise will have a major focus on action and adventure....which for a franchise like this, should be expected.

.Many of the characters will be receiving redesigns in the veins of the ones done for the franchise back in 2005, which give off a fantasy warrior, almost Dungeons n' Dragons vibe. While these wouldn't be to the extent as say, Disney Mirrorverse, they would clearly by different from the characters' usual attire and makes them come off as more like warriors ready for adventure and battle.

.The series will essentially expand on the worlds of the films and bring in elements from their original source materials, official continuations like the TV shows, and even the cultures they represent.

Okay, now that we got the major elements out of the way, I'm gonna briefly share who would be apart of the roster for this new franchise, and list them in chronological order of movie release.

.Alice

.Peter Pan

.Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip

.Merlin and Arthur

.Mowgli

.Robin Hood

.Ariel and Eric

.Belle and Beast

.Aladdin and Jasmine

.Simba

.Pocahontas and John Smith

.Quasimodo

.Hercules and Megara

.Fa Mulan and Li Shang

.Tarzan and Jane Porter

.Milo Thatch and Kida Nedakh

.Jim Hawkins

.Tiana and Naveen

.Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert

.Merida

.Anna and Elsa

.Moana and Maui

Just imagine.....seeing this iconic heroes going on various adventures, from the hottest deserts to the deepest jungles. Fighting against mythical monsters, thieves, wild beasts, villainous knights, deadly invaders, mysterious spirits and swashbuckling pirates!

Anyway, that's all for now. I'm planning to go more in-depth on this idea, fleshing out the characters and their worlds.

If you have any ideas for this franchise, let me know.

[sylveon-and-velveon]

Oh God can we please see what the slashers would do if you played 'Hopelessly Devoted To You' from Grease? Just in time for Valentines Day 🥺🥺🥺

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! For couples and singles {like me lol}

OMG yes! I loved watching Grease as a kid!! AFTER MAKING THIS: Should say somehow half of these became "love language" responses- I follow you, hol' up

This will include: Michael Myers {OG & RZ}, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Tiffany Valentine

Feel free to request any shitpost writing prompt ideas you can think of in my asks, I love silly non-serious ideas XD We besties if you give me Cupcakke remixes-

OG Michael Myers

It's giving lovesick, it's giving obsessed, it's giving "I'm not leaving you"

Well for Michael anyway-

He'd probably take the song a little too seriously, and think you're never gonna ever leave him.

He's never been the best at romance

Blame where he was "raised" for over a decade-

RZ Michael Myers

Just as much in the "never been good with romance" department

But hey, the music isn't loud and obnoxious so he doesn't mind as much to the music you're playing

Especially since it's not as vulgar like.... last time you played music around him

You music player lives to see another day!!

Brahms Heelshire

He sees it as a love language, that you're using music to properly show your love for him without feeling uncomfortable throughout it all

Yep, that's my new headcannon now. His love language is through music. Especially with pianos

He hears you playing that? Oh his heart is MELTING right then there!! He's gonna be giving you cuddles for DAYS after hearing that

Someone make this love language canon please-

Jason Voorhees

Imagine if his mom used to listen to this song?

Bringing him memories. Bittersweet ones probably

Unless you headcannon his mom's still alive, then just sweet

Unless you have a sad headcannon about his mom then you fucked either way mate TvT

But anyway, it brings him memories and he's enjoying the music with you

I kinda went on a Pamela rant there- XD

Billy Lenz

A little confused but he got the spirit

He ain't understanding a lot of it until he hears iconic line from the song

Then he running over to you and is NEVER letting you go

But he still confused

But he trying TvT

Freddy Kreuger

Okay.... here me out:

Yeah the dude will be ridiculous with goofy ass music

But with romantic related songs?

...

So you know how he has one hand that isn't covered with the glove?

And no, you're not getting anymore context to my thought process-

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis

Short and sweet, they'd both love it

Billy's calm about it, while Stu is just like a big doggy. Oh- he is SO happy!!

Billy ain't gonna stop him, it's a good song. And it makes the both of you happy

What's to complain?

Thomas Hewitt

Takes him a few seconds to understand the implications of this song but when he does he's gonna give you a big ass hug

Bone crushing? Probably-

It's Thomas, he'd probably accidently do it-

But he still loves you

Even if he accidently puts you in a wheelchair

Bubba Sawyer

Yeah you gotta explain the song, poor guy highly wouldn't understand the meaning

Or he would... but BARELY-

You gotta explain what the song's about, when he finally does understand he's gonna be so in love with you.

And the song

Like a little confession song... weird choice for a confession song. But you do you-

Harry Warden

A little old fashioned but he understands the song is romantic-esc

He'd vibe to song, bounce his head along to the beat a little

Tap his feet to beat as well, maybe change back and forth between the two

He's never watched the movie before but now the song makes him want to watch the movie

Specifically with you ^^

Tiffany Valentine

She's watched the movie, but she doesn't wanna admit it

But the second, THE SECOND, she hears you playing that song

Ohhhhhhhhhhh you two are singing that song together with no shame

It's her guilty pleasure song, but knowing that you listen to this song now makes her more confident!

Hell yeah!!!

[stattikdemon]

Kinktober 2024 - Day 6 - Femdom

Hello and welcome to day 6 of this amazing kinktober 🤩

Yes, I am late once again, but I hope I manage to make your wait worth it 😉

This one was a pain in the but, why are bj so hard to write anyway? 😅

But I tried to better myself since the last time I wrote one so I hope this one is better 🥲

Also, this one has more paragraphs as some of you suggested for better reading, so I hope this helps ☺️

Let me know what you think, comments and messages are always more than welcome 😊

MDNI +18

You and Alastor have been married for a few decades now, and although he was an excellent husband and an even better lover, things sometimes could get a little monotonous. So today you decided that you would be in control. You've never tried that, and honestly, you weren't sure if he would even like the idea, but it didn't hurt to try.

And so, after a romantic dinner at a simple restaurant and a walk through a nearby park, you both decided to call it a night and go back to your house. You decided to take a quick shower, the warm water helped you to relax as you thought about how you were going to bring up your idea with Alastor.

You heard the shower curtain opening and closing behind you, your husband's arms wrapping around your waist, and he lowered his head onto your shoulder. You scratched his head lightly, and he sighed, his body relaxing and his arms wrapping you tighter. You both stayed like this for a few minutes until he lifted his head from your shoulder, and in a swift motion he grabbed your arm and turned you, pushing you against the wall and locking his lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

You felt his hands all over your body, scratching you and leaving marks where he passed. His hand trailed down your body, down your stomach, until they reached your folds. He parted your folds, lightly playing with your sensitive nub, a whine leaving your lips and muffled by his own. He left your lips and went straight to your neck, placing nibbles all around it. You moaned from his tongue, licking a sensitive spot.

His fingers were now close to your entrance, teasing you and getting coated with your juices. He entered you slowly, getting deeper and deeper with each thrust. You were moaning louder now, his fingers touching your sensitive spot with every thrust, your orgasm building fast. You grabbed his hair and pulled them back into your lips, your moans now muffled in his mouth.

You were so near the edge, his fingers skillfully making you see stars. "Alastor…" - you moaned, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. He removed his fingers just as you were about to cum, a whine leaving your throat as he looked at you with a mischievous look. You huffed at him, slightly turning your face in discontent, and you didn't notice that he got on his knees and parted your folds with his tongue, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a faster pace. He sucked and licked your sensitive nub, your legs barely holding you up as he kept thrusting his fingers at a fast pace.

"Alastor, I'm gonna… Ah! I'm gonna cum" - you screamed, grabbing his hair and grinding yourself on his mouth, the coil inside of you snapping, and he helped you ride your high. You were a moaning mess, your back arched and your brain completely hazed. He helped you ride you high, getting up and kissing you softly, his tongue still coated with your juices. You felt your legs starting to give up, but Alastor wrapped your arms around his neck for support, his kiss now soft and caring.

He helped you to wash, being careful with your hair and body. You washed his body as well, careful as to not make him too overwhelmed. He was still wary of touch sometimes, so you were very careful not to make him unconfortable. After you were both done, he helped you out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around you before drying himself up. You looked at his beautiful figure, even after all these years, you still didn't know how you got so lucky to have him.

You both got into your room. Your husband went to the drawers by the closet to retrieve his pajamas, but before he could button up his shirt, you hugged him from behind. "My love, I'd like to try something tonight, if you're comfortable." - his ears pearked at your words, and he turned to face you. "Oh, and what would that be, my dear?" He looked at you amused. "You'll see, my love" - you reached up to his lips to kiss him.

You took his hand and guided him to your bed, softly motioning for him to lay down. You lay down next to him, softly tracing circles on his chest while you kiss him softly. You slowly trail your hand down from his chest to his stomach, a slight twist from his muscles at the discomfort he was feeling, but he let you continue down to his pants. You free his member, still slightly soft but starting to come to life as you stroke him up and down.

A sigh escapes his lips when you break the kiss. You look at him with a wicked smile and go down to his waist, his member fully erect now. "Dear, you don't have to…" - you interrupt him. "I want to. I'm going to have all the work today, so you just enjoy yourself," you kissed his tip softly, a bit of precum coating your lips. You lick the underside slowly until you get to the tip again, drawing circles softly with your tongue. Another sign escapes his lips as he rises on his elbows to look at you.

You take his tip into your mouth, sucking lightly and licking, bobbing your head up and down, taking more and more each time. He closed his eyes, his hands gripping the sheets and his head tilting up slightly with another sigh. He looks at you with a grin, your head still taking almost all of his length now, taking your hand and stroking him alongside your lips.

"Darling…" - he sighed again and tried to pull you up to meet his lips, but you stopped him, placing a finger on his chest and pushing him down lightly - "Don't. I want to be the one pleasing you today, so don't you dare try to move". Alastor was amused by your determination, and so he laid back down, letting you crawl up to him. You kissed him, your tongues dancing with one another as you aligned your entrance with his dick and slowly slid down, a moan leaving your lips.

You moved your hips up and down slowly, your hands in his chest as support. Alastor placed his hands on your hips and tried to make you move faster, but you placed a finger on his chest again - "Ah, ah. You can keep your hands there, but you can't move me, mister". He huffed at you, and as revenge you buried yourself completely, a moan escaping his lips as you hit your cervix in a painfully and pleasurable way.

You kept going up and down his member, the angle making it hit your g-spot every time, making you a completely moaning mess. Alastor's breathing was hard, and his hands were grabbing to your hips for dear life, leaving trails of scratches and tiny bloody patches all over them. Your breasts were bouncing from your movement, the quick slapping sounds every time you lowered yourself filled the room, making you even more horny.

You laid down on his chest, reaching for his neck, licking and kissing it, winning a few more sighs and moans from him. You felt his dick twitching inside you, his breathing even more erratic than before. "Darling, I…" - he pleaded. "Don't you dare cum. You can only cum when I tell you to cum" - you growled in his ear, your movements erratic as your orgasm closed in.

His talons gripped your hips tighter, and his antlers grew taller as he tried to keep control of himself. You were so close now, the coil inside you ready to snap at any moment. "Alastor, please fill me up. Please cum inside me!" - you begged between moans.

You sat back up, making sure he was completely inside you with each thrust. A couple of thrusts was all it took for him to force you down completely, filling you up and making you cum as well. You could feel his warm seed deep inside you, your walls clamping him like a vice while both of you rode your high.

You fell down to his chest, both your breathing still erratic and you were seeing stars still. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, and after a couple of minutes, you were both breathing normally. "Maybe I should go take a bath" - your voice was slightly strained, and when you tried to get up, Alastor didn't let you. "Ah, ah. Now that would be a waste, don't you think? Why don't you sleep just like this tonight?" - he chuckled mischievously. Joke's on him though, you actually liked to sleep feeling full of his cum.

[lyraeon]

A while back I learned something important from my therapist, and since I was trying to recount it anyway to share with a friend, I thought I would bring it to y'all as well.

We have all had at least one of those days where we've stayed up way too late doing something fun but we just don't want to stop doing it. Logically I figured that's just because "well yeah I don't want to stop, I have to go to sleep then to work and those suck compared to it."

Except then that starts happening often and you feel bad about always staying up every night, but then you feel worse and get more stressed because you know you're doing something you're "not supposed to", but because you're more stressed you want more fun time... endless cycle.

But as I was talking about it all and told her I thought I was self-sacrificing, the therapist had a very useful question for me:

"How do you normally know it's time to stop having fun? Like you know it's time to finish work because your shift's over, you know it's time to stop doing the dishes when they're all done or the washer's full, what is your signal to stop having fun?"

And I had to search for a while to answer.

"When the activity is done" - okay sure, but many games and books and series, or doing your own creative thing, "done" may take days upon days or even be non-existent.

"When I had to pass the controller" - obvious and easy one! If you knew you had a finite turn then the defined end is readily there, and you're also prepared for it! But requires pre-arranging the limits.

"When I got in trouble for it" - ding ding ding, we found the big problem.

When you grow up with "fun" being a forbidden activity you're only allowed to do after everything else is done to 100% perfection, then you learn to sneak it in where you can fit it. And you need that shit, seriously - you cannot get through life without some source of enjoyment, some tiny glimmer of joy among the tedium.

Many of us learned to read under the covers, or to play our gameboy in the bathroom and hide it under the sink, or that we could get away with running around the backyard for another 20 minutes if we just learned which intonation of "come inside" was the actual trouble line, or whatever other ways to cram in as much joy as we could before the hammer came down, for whatever severity that meant in your house.

And so that feeling of "I shouldn't be doing this, I'm going to get caught, but if I'm going to get in trouble anyway I might as well get as much out of this as I can" becomes part of what you expect to feel when you're having fun. And you only know how to stop having fun when you feel that way when you get in trouble for it - and in absence of anyone else controlling your behavior, that means the bad guy becomes either whatever task pops up to remind you responsibilities exist, or your significant other pointing out it's really late and they wish you'd come to bed, or your boss yelling at you for being tired all the time... or it becomes you.

If you don't learn that fun isn't a forbidden activity, if you stay stuck in the mindset that it's something you have to cram in in secret and hide that you're even doing? It becomes so so easy to hate the voice of reason in your head that's trying to encourage moderation and we're going to regret this tomorrow.

And that escalates. You keep being too tired the next day. You keep feeling even worse when you sit down to enjoy yourself the next night because now you're already tired, so stress gets to you faster, and now you feel guilty about how late you're staying up so you're not really enjoying playing your game or scrolling Tumblr or whatever anymore, you're just nervously glancing at the clock, "have I spent too long yet? How much longer can I do this before I get in trouble?"

Even though now you're in your 20s or 30s and it's been a decade since the last time anyone else told you it was bed time.

Learning that you're allowed to have fun isn't easy; guilt and shame are emotions that run very, very deep. And neither is learning to have a healthier relationship with saying "okay, that's enough for today".

For one, you have to stop threatening yourself. "Tomorrow is gonna suck" and "You're going to regret this" and "we're going to get in trouble at work" don't work. You already feel bad, you already know it's gonna suck, so why wouldn't you try to cram in one more hour now while it's not the day that's going to suck yet? Punishment is not incentive.

Because by now you're in a situation where sleep is a horrifying punishment that ends any fun, but you're not enjoying your fun anyway because you're tired all the time on top of feeling ashamed for doing something fun, and you're spending the entire time beating yourself up for being an idiot with no self control who can't even handle going to bed on time like a normal human being...

etc etc etc.

You will hear a lot of people give advice on how to get rid of the idea of having to "earn" sleep or fun or happiness by doing "enough" other things. To learn to accept that just being alive is enough reason to "deserve" to do those things. That will work for some people, but for others it just ends up one more thing to scold yourself about, especially when you're already in the habit not of denying yourself entirely but instead of doing it and feeling guilty the whole time.

But learning to set limits ahead of time, so that you're not anticipating some unknown time that a nebulous authority figure is going to finally have their horror monster timer run out and leap out at you but instead know when and what to expect? Holy shit it helped.

Don't get me wrong, it hella felt like depriving myself at first, like I was being grounded, and I looked at my phone beeping saying it was bedtime quite often and got annoyed.

But then I stopped treating fun as something that had to wait until the end of the day and everything else had to be done first. It is way easier to stare down sleep and go "I don't need you", especially if you have any kind of insomnia making the idea of being in bed a dreadful one on top of it. It is harder to say that about dinner, or calling a friend, or walking the dog. Plus then the day isn't over yet, so giving up on your fun isn't also accepting that as the defining moment of the end of your day!

So you have to start practicing looking for places to squeeze in a little more fun - "I've got an hour before dinner, that's perfect to make some tea and watch two episodes." "My favorite youtuber just put up a new video, why don't I take a break to watch it before I finish this homework?" "I need to go grocery shopping tomorrow anyway, and if I leave an hour early I could go kick around the bookstore first."

And once you do, fun starts to feel less shameful.

Don't get me wrong, if your issues run deep enough it still does sometimes. But when you get to have these moments of joy that you don't feel the need to hide or apologize for and where punishment isn't part of the routine, then fun stops feeling like something you have to dig your claws into for fear of having it taken away from you once someone catches you with it. And that means that finishing a level and glancing over at the clock is something you do because it actually managed to click a satisfaction switch in your head and you wondered if it was a good note to end on for now, instead of something you do with your breath held and the berating words already cycling in your mind.

I am not offering this advice expecting it to work for everyone or be easy or anything like that. I am someone with Depression, ADHD, and pretty severe PTSD sharing a technique that one therapist told me that really happened to click for and help me specifically, in case it might help someone else be a little nicer to themselves today, too.

[illuminatedquill]

Short Story Summary: Hera Syndulla arrives at Sabine and Ezra's comm tower to drop off the first print editions of their personal trading cards.

*For @alphaofdarkness and @jedi-nurse who inspired this with their conversations on the Discord server. Hope you like it.

Lothal, Early Morning - Sabine and Ezra's Comm Tower

The characteristic soft chime that played whenever someone was waiting below in the comm tower's courtyard alerted Ezra to their guest's presence. Setting down the data-pad he had been browsing through for the Holo-Net's daily news, he stood and walked over to a nearby monitor at the security station that had been recently installed by Sabine as a precaution.

After all, the last time a guest had arrived she had ended up with a lightsaber stabbed through her abdomen. It was not an experience she wished to repeat again.

Shooing a curious Murley off the console, he pushed a button. The monitor's screen lit up, showing the crisp image of the tower's courtyard - and the familiar face of their guest.

Smiling, he spoke into the intercom. "Hello, Hera."

The green-skinned Twi'lek smiled back and waved at the camera. Seeing her face, practically the same since he had first seen it over a decade ago, always filled Ezra with a sense of warmth and comfort. Hera had been a steady friend, mentor, and surrogate mother to him during the hectic early days of the Rebellion. She was the eternal bedrock of the Spectres, the foundation from which all of them had built their new lives upon.

He noted the casual outfit she wore today: not her usual flight uniform, but a fashionable beige sport jacket, dark brown tunic, slim, high waisted pants, complete with comfortable walking boots. Grasped in her hands was a slim, non-descript wooden case.

"Retirement looks good on you, General," he remarked.

Hera snorted. "Semi-retirement. I was practically forced into it by Leia. She was very insistent."

"It's well-deserved," he replied. "And long overdue."

"And boring," she retorted. "I need structure, Ezra. A mission."

He laughed. "So, you're hiring yourself out as a delivery service now?"

She scowled at him. "Gotta do something. I'm still helping people, at least."

"And not getting shot at or participating in dog fights with pirates is presumably a benefit, as well," Ezra added.

"Eh," she said, waving a careless hand. "I kind of miss it, sometimes."

Hera peered up at the camera. "Are you going to let me up or we just going to chit-chat like this all day? I've got other places to be, you know."

Ezra grinned and let her in.

The slim wooden case lay open on the worktable, revealing the contents within. Ezra peered over it, taking in the sight of what Hera had brought.

She sipped at a caf, a special blend of Hera's favorite flavors. "Thanks for this," she said gratefully.

"Of course," Ezra responded. He picked up one of the items within the wooden case and observed it more closely: a trading card, thin and metallic. With a sense of bemusement, he inspected the image of himself on it, conforming to what he had perceived at the time of the photoshoot to be a "heroic" pose: his lightsaber activated and held in a basic guard position.

There was at least a dozen more of these contained within the wooden case.

"Where's Sabine?" Hera asked.

Ezra nodded towards the section of the comm tower's interior, where the master bedroom was located. "Sleeping in. She just returned from Mandalore late last night."

"Busy days for her, huh," Hera said.

Ezra shrugged, still eyeing the trading card in his hand. "Bo needs her to keep the clans in line."

He shook his head. "I can't believe these are actually real. A Jedi on a trading card."

"Hey, don't knock it," Hera said. "Skywalker's got a bunch, too."

Ezra's eyes widened. "Luke? How did the New Republic convince him to do this?"

"Same way we did with you. He had similar concerns: that Jedi shouldn't be involved in this sort of publicity, even with benevolent intentions," Hera explained. She paused to take a brief sip of her caf before continuing. "To counter this, the government pitched that it was for historical purposes. It was a good way to get the young ones across the galaxy up to date with knowledge of galactic affairs and the people who shaped them."

He blinked, remembering the exact same explanation being given to him. "It's a little scary that they found a way to trick Jedi into this."

Hera shrugged. "You're both history nerds. And there's no harm in giving the kids heroes to root for. I think you both appreciate that fact."

Ezra studied the cards some more, smiling a little. Living as an orphan on the streets of Imperial controlled Lothal, he would have given anything to have a fun side hobby like that.

"Leia, her husband Han, Skywalker, and Lando all have their own trading cards, too," Hera commented. She reached down and plucked a card from within the wooden case. "Everyone in the Ghost crew, also. Me, Zeb, Kanan - even Chopper."

Ezra snorted. He glanced over at the trading card Hera was holding, this one featuring Sabine. She was wearing one of her go-to civilian outfits, her head encased in a speeder-bike helmet. The characteristic Sabine Wren smirk was also in vivid display, along with one other feature that immediately caught his attention.

He frowned. "That can't be recent," he said. "When did she grow out her hair?"

Hera turned to him, surprised. "Right," she said. "You weren't here to see that."

She offered him the trading card. Ezra took it, gazing softly down at the image of his wife.

"She's beautiful," was all he could say. He had only ever seen Sabine with short hair, a necessity with her Mandalorian helmet. Even when she had come to rescue him on Peridea, Sabine had worn a short pixie-style cut. Ezra had assumed that had been her style the entire time he had been gone.

The deep purple he remembered from Peridea was present, but it blended beautifully with the longer locks of burning red. It reminded him of the gouts of flame bursting forth he had seen in paintings of dying stars; the effect of her dye colors presented the look of pure starfire flowing down her shoulders.

"Yeah, Sabine had these done a while ago," Hera confirmed.

"But they're just being released now?" Ezra asked. "Why?"

She sighed. "It took quite a bit of convincing for Sabine to acquiesce to this decision. You know how she is with public facing stuff like this."

Ezra winced, imagining the conversations between Sabine and the New Republic officials to be short and one-sided. Despite her brash exterior, he knew his wife to be an immensely private person, preferring to keep out of the public eye.

"I finally got her to agree, but Sabine would only do it on two conditions: first, that she would have a say in how the cards were designed. If her face was going to be on them, she wanted to ensure that the cards were artistically up to her standards."

Ezra smiled slightly. Sounds like her, he thought. Art was Sabine's first love, before she met him. She would want to make sure that the artwork showcased on the trading cards was befitting of the heroes they featured.

"What was the second condition?" he asked.

Hera cocked her head at him, her eyes suddenly wistful. "That her trading cards would only be sold as a set, not to be separated for any reason."

Ezra's brow furrowed. "She wanted her card to be permanently paired up with another?"

"Yes, Ezra," said Hera quietly. "Yours."

His eyes widened at the revelation.

"That's why hers are only being released now," continued Hera. "She was waiting for you."

Ezra was silent, looking over the cards: his and Sabine's, paired together.

Not to be separated for any reason.

He coughed, trying to clear the sudden lump in his throat. Hera clapped him on the shoulder.

"I think they look better together," she observed wryly. "Don't you?"

Ezra smiled; his eyes were moist with emotion. "Yeah," he agreed. "They do."

Sabine wandered out of the bedroom a little after mid-day. Her hair was sticking up on one end; eyes still bleary from the long sleep, she shuffled over to the couch and sat down next to Ezra.

"Had a good sleep?" he asked her.

She laid her head onto his shoulder. "Mmmmm. First soft bed in weeks. Heavenly isn't strong enough to describe it."

He kissed her head softly. "Is Mandalore still doing alright? No one's gunning for another civil war? "

"Yeah, clan meeting went nice and smoothly," she replied drowsily. "Boring."

Ezra chuckled, strongly reminded of Hera's same response earlier this morning.

"Sounds like progress," he mused.

She shifted her head on his shoulder, moving into a more comfortable position. "Heard you talking with someone. Was it Hera?"

He nodded. Sabine grimaced. "You should have woken me up, goober."

"You were tired. Hera didn't mind. Said she'll call later, to catch up with you."

Sabine didn't argue back, which was an indication of just how exhausted she still was. "What did she want?"

Ezra produced from his pocket the trading cards. "She was dropping these off."

His wife sneaked a glance at them and let out a surprised breath. "Karabast," she muttered. "I forgot these were a thing."

"Freshly minted, first edition," he bragged. "Super rare and valuable, I'm told."

She snorted. "Whatever. We should sell them and buy tickets to a star cruise."

Setting the cards down on the worktable, Ezra grinned and hugged his wife close. "I'm also told," he said gently, "that ours are not to be sold separately."

Sabine went quiet.

He reached over and laced his hand in hers. "It's very thoughtful of you," he whispered. "Thank you."

She squeezed his hand back. "We're a package deal, Ezra. I don't want anyone separating us ever again. Even in something as silly as trading cards."

[leliwardens]

so a second article has hit the da fandom and i'm in the part of the "this is genuinely so disappointing i'm considering not actually preordering/playing on release". i'm sure i'll come to terms with it and still get it but this really has been such a blow to my sheer enthusiasm that is like...incredible really for me as a fan invested in this franchise for over a decade to put me (and others) so low lmao

(under a cut bc it got stupidly long, a cookie if you read all of it)

one of the big "reasons" i've seen parroted by the fandom and the justification from the devs is (paraphrasing) you're in the north and all of these major decisions are in the south, which is frankly, stupid? sure, the choices of the divine wouldn't matter too much (if the circles are disbanded or not, for example) but the divine choice itself, should matter? the throne of ferelden? orlais??? these are major characters!

whoever is the sitting ruler of ferelden, regardless of the choice, has obv, lived through a blight not 20 some odd years prior. so one could imagine they would be invested in this, you know, double blight is going on and would like to help or help for their country? given the fact one of the last of the two archdemon prisons is canonly within ferelden!! marketing has also started the blight has spread across thedas, so one would think the current world leaders would be supporting or at least looking to the group seemingly working on stopping the blight. but i guess not since it's not a choice.

even setting aside the lore and plot significance of the majority of choices, even if it truly did not matter, you can say the exact same for choices within dai itself, however the devs knew the desire to have that impact + fan service, even minor, still superseded lore and plot significance. the hof letter and mentions by their romance partner is clearly fan service (since tbh i doubt leliana or morrigan would willingly talk about their partner themselves) but it was also telling you, the player, where your mc was. another example is there is no impact who the sitting king of orzammar is, but the game still mentions in a codex the consequences of that choice, even if the anvil was kept or not in ambient dialogue.

these and many more mattered, not in a world shaping way, but to tell you, the player, yes you played in this world and here's the acknowledgement of it, thank you. i didn't need to decide the fate of the world to enjoy leliana talking about my warden or varric supporting templars because my hawke did, because it still felt like i mattered, that yes this is a world i changed, even in a small way, that i lived in it.

and they removed all of that.

like, hell it was even a good way to "check-in" in choices and characters without dedicating entire plot beats to them! the epilogue for a non-divine!romanced leliana heavily implies she and the warden are still doing their own things but meeting up when hey can. that aside the cure? the fucking cure??? did they find it? did they share it with the other wardens? was it suppressed? the other members of the inquisition were invested in stopping solas, what about them? since you are literally going to their turf, is dorian, josephine, isabela, and even bull okay? is zevran or fenris going to be ignored? fenris had a whole comic about him!

the only way i can take this is being told to no longer be invested in previous material, even material leading up to this game. even if i know that's not really the truth, it really feels that way.

i don't even like the excuse for getting newbies into the series, because, well, dai did that fine WITH returning characters and overall plots lol? there's a loss of some context and dai itself had writing flaws with this method, but it did show you could have both returning and new players work fine, and not alienate said new players despite it being the 3rd game.

speaking of dai, why bother making the choices so endgame linear if they wouldn't of even mattered? why no matter your choice of divine, another group rises up to oppose her? why have the grey wardens going quiet and possibly on the brink of civil war, exiled or no? i had assumed at the time the bottlenecking was future proofing to create less variables, and i guess i was wrong since there are no more variables lol!

i'm genuinely not sure what they truly thought would be the reaction, given they are still trying to pull returning players via the marketing? like. varric, harding, morrigan returning, the focus on the grey wardens as a group (and likely why davrin gets such a spotlight) are all indications for returning players. fuck even solas, no matter what you feel about him, is a returning npc! to resolve his plot!!!

i never truly believed we would see big huge cameos, i did expect the divine, those who live in the north, but otherwise simple codex entries or letters if anything.

but to have.......nothing? be left with nothing? burns.

i do mean this completely honestly: what is the point of investing myself, my time, my money, hell even just interest in this series anymore? without the impact of previous games (or a better lore reason, such as a longer timeskip than 5 fucking years since the last dlc) then this is your run of the mill rpg with better writing than most, but that's all it'd really have. i didn't fully play or get into the series because of the decisions carrying over, but it sure as fuck kept me and others coming back. if this is the norm going forward past da4 then well, might as well pick any other rpg series.

[sonicjustbecause]

Shadow generation. Impression (from the videos).

Only about the story.

Actually I didn't play the game, I just watched the cutscenes. Maybe I will buy the game someday.

First - the non spoiler thing:

Shadow's story has few aim: being fun and having a compelling character to control. Nothing complicated. So, although nothing special, it is pleasant, simple and relaxing. Also for once Shadow is not tied on certain Sonic rules that don't allow for more than few actions. Is a character that can open several scenarios. Speed and agility might be the mandatory characteristics but he can potentially do many things Sonic can't.

Shadow himself is better than what he used to be the last decade. Is not perfect (but I'm a fan of Maekawa's Shadow as I stated more than once in previous posts), but finally is relatable again. Seeing emphasis on the Doom Powers in the preview, I excepted him being a super edgelord, even worse than the one in IDW comics and without flaws, instead we see him being vulnerable, suffering the side effects of not taking care of his well being and a interesting side about his personality that can teach one thing or two to Sonic.

The spoiler (characters):

Maria, how much we waited to know her.

We hear about her since 2001, we saw pictures of her over and over but we never knew who she was. She was this gostly, mysterious figure in Sonic adventure 2 (I was wondering: "How comes this innocent looking good girl wish for total destruction? Something is not right!"). For long people assumed she was pretty much a strong person, but we never knew for sure.

She is a young teenager. The way she thinks shows that she's not exactly a child. But she's still extremely spontaneous because she has no real life friends around telling her she must act like an adult. So she still jump when excited and has lots of childish characteristics normally at her age and maturity she would have outgrow.

Her only two friends on ARK are one literal child, and an alien/hedgehog with no social skills. They would not pressure her into acting proper because they know nothing.

Idealized? Maybe. But we are seeing the story through Shadow's eyes. That's the point.

Also, finally she doesn't look anymore like a vintage italian doll. First time I saw her I wondered who was the one who though at that, uh, not so great design.

Gerard

Hints from Sonic Adventure 2 suggested that Gerard and Shadow are very similar. But Gerard has on his side the wisdom that comes from age. Also, unlike Shadow, his way longer life experience has been varied, with both good and bad moments, shaping a more mature and less emotional personality.

We never knew what was the relationship between Shadow and Gerard. For now we learned the bads, Gerard getting mad and turning Shadow into a weapon, condemning him to a miserable life.

But, both the Maria and Gerard we see in SxS gen are from before the raid, so we see the fatherly side of Gerard. Surely when he created Shadow, he didn't consider him a living being. But then he learned to love him. He's rightfully his son after all, even if an artificial being.

I'm glad Gerard and Maria aren't Black Doom illusions who serve him but they're the real ones, and they truly help Shadow though this adventure. Clearly they understand what is going on, and even that in the future they will not be on Shadow's side. So they decided to help him as much as they can to make him taking the right decision.

Shadow

Now, I think I have a lot to say about Shadow, he is both the protagonist and the main character.

He showed us sides of his personality that were either hidden and/or forgotten for a long time. Knowing his story he gave me the impression he was just forced to grow against his will.

Maekawa's Shadow used to be balanced, surely stubborn/laser focused, very quiet but also mischievous, good hearted and capable to take care of his well being. But after Sonic 06 his personality was changed into a cold, selfish mean edgelord without remeding qualities, that was on the good side just because of his whims. That was what made him into a joke among fans and a hero only among (few) kids aged 15 and below.

But now we seems we are starting from the basis. Peraphs Shadow will one day be similar to what he used to be. His personality will not change overnight, that would be jarring, it will be gradual. I hope he will act more rationally and balanced from now and in the future.

The side effect of his lack of self care.

They started from his superhuman laser focus and his stubborness, traits that were especially underlined after Sonic 06:

What if this slowly takes a tool on his mind? From dark beginnings, we see that Shadow is at his limits. His focus start to fade, he gets distracted easily by both his own tiredness and outside distractions. Dangerously on breaking point since he can get on the verge of panic attacks. And he is very harsh toward himself. Not just 'focus' but also 'what are you doing? Stop daydreaming'. Seems the hard hearted father toward his son. The only reason he doesn't get slapped for not being a good boy is because he can't slap himself.

Family.

Though he is nowadays known to be a loner... I wasn't and I am not so sure about this trait. Introverted for sure but I remember him always surrounded by friends (still in smaller groups than Sonic) in Maekawa's stories. Rouge and Omega in Heroes and 06, Knuckles, Amy and Blaze in Black Knight. In Adventure 2 he was alone, but he was a good team worker.

He feels more like lonely. In SxS Gen he was so happy to have found his family again and so hopeful to have a second chance that he seemed quite in good mood with everybody. Rouge, Gerard and Maria were very kind toward him, but they also did want him being real, to prepare him to the outcome. A real family (Maria and Gerard) and a real friend (Rouge).

Now, that's might be my interpretation, but Shadow seemed to wanting to show his progresses to his family, maybe to hear their approvations. And he searched their advices, listening carefully, being a good boy for people that are way kinder toward him than himself.

And now the thing Sonic needs to learn from Shadow (perhaps also Shadow from himself). Shadow is capable to be open and sincere toward his family more than how Sonic is toward those that consider his family (Tails). Maybe Shadow is afraid to open up toward Rouge because of this, SxS Gen, Sonic Adventures, Heroes, 06 and Sonic Battle showed that contrary to popular beliefs, Shadow is quite bad at hiding his emotions. He might not cry but is behaviour pattern changes noticeably. And he doesn't seems that annoyed when Rouge lend him her voice when he is unable to speak.

Normal and upset.

Mmmh is OK, I was just a bit tired, you know, running around...

Shadow is surprising again.

Well when you see a face like this:

What do you think the outcome would be?

The first surprise was discovering he was way more chill than what his face suggest. It is always a welcome feeling when a character surprises you in one or more ways. I'm always on the edge when I see Shadow approaching somebody or being approached in the game. And then, he just acts normally.

Though this is logical and excepted, no, this is not Shadow.

Compassion was the thing that saved him originally. And then this trait was removed. Now he is compassionate again.

David Humphrey on what he was told about Shadow when he worked to SA2. You can see the interview with him and Scott Dreier on YT.

It should be underlined that Shadow doesn't know yet who the girl is.

Better to avoid to compare with IDW or Sonic Team Racing, when he doesn't save Rouge and Tails and when he even steal popcorn from a chao.

Doom Powers

They are helpful in game, but what I focus on is how Shadow is always in pain, maybe even afraid everytime he gets a new power. The 'NO!' plead was in Italian too. Another thing is the colour distortion when he gets seemily possessed by Black Doom.

In another videogame I used to play (Saints Row 3 and 4) the same colour distortion was there when the character was high.

So I associate that efect with altered consciousness.

Shadow's body language and expressions...

I did noticed he was very expressive in the trailer. But so he was the whole game. He communicates/emotes through both his face and his body. With the player and with the NPCs around. If his personality keeps improving and he will be back to the Shadow we all loved, and maybe they will keep that friendly attitude toward the player, baybe making a Shadow games not every year, but occasinally when they have a good story, he will be super fun to play.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Dignity of His Choice (abridged ending)

Speedy version of Reflections Part II & III (see previous or series) Steve Rogers x wife!Reader

Alright, this may not be conventional, but I'm crippled by guilt over this story. There are so many elements that hit brutally close to home based on a personal experience this past year (arguably this past decade but whatevs), and so I have sifted through 28 A4-sized pages, front-to back, and 17 smaller pages, front-to back (save one sheet), as well as a typed-up 7k, in hopes of grasping this magical redemption arc that exists in my mind and falls flat everywhere else. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of loving this story so much that nothing is good enough, and I'm sick of hoping to offer a conclusion that never f***ing comes. Welp, today you can know the conclusion--or the gist of it at least--because that is my Christmas gift to myself. I'm washing myself of the guilt. -> What follows is an extremely unedited and maybe slightly poetic summary of the finale. God, I hope you enjoy it, but really, I just want to feel like I *can* finish something. Sorry if that's dramatic; that's just...the situation of 2023.

Thank you in advance for your understanding, and I hope this serves up some sort of holiday cheer! (No real warnings because smut is reserved for the full-length version. This tale, as always, is 18+ due to very heavy themes.)

The thing is Steve doesn't regret his choice. How can he regret anything that ensured you were here, alive and happy, by his side? That's not an achievement he'll ever be ashamed of; there's no guarantee in the multiverse that he could have done better.

You spoke of being lucky. You felt guilt that of all the servicemen and women to lose their lives, yours came home in the end.

Steve doesn't see it that way. Yes, you and he are very, very lucky, but overall, Steve won.

In every war, there are battles. In battles, there are fights. In fights, there are shots taken, punches thrown. You don't need to land every punch to win a war. There are always losses.

Steve Rogers tends to win because he understands this.

He knows the value of strategy. He knows the value of hope. He especially knows the value of planning for the worst.

And so he's surprised--as he often is with you--that he hasn't lost more.

You accept the loss as well as the win. You endure more gracefully than he ever imagined possible during those long months alone and away.

His sacrifice may have played a factor in your safety, but in the end, it just came down to you. You fought for yourself. You battled for your beliefs. You warred for your convictions.

Steve can understand that. He admires it.

He plans to make this dreadful mess up to you, he hopes for the time to do so, but before he can strategize how, your bubble of isolation is burst by a knock at the door.

"Open up, Rogers. Please," Sam Wilson requests anxiously over F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s speaker.

He could simply mean you since you are a Rogers and neither of you have heard the okay that the world knows Steve's alive. Although, Steve still doesn't have a phone again, and you haven't exactly been checking yours during recent...activities... (Not to put too fine a point on it, but Bucky's little gifts aren't going to miraculously last eight days and nights.)

Steve stays in the corner of the kitchen, drying his hands from the dishes you two were washing together, while you answer the door.

It swings open in the direction that still hides Steve.

"Hey--" Steve hears the soft pause in Wilson's voice "--I think...I may be out of line here, but Stark ordered personnel to vacate the compound."

You cross your arms over your chest, nervous. "Do we need to leave? I--As in, you and I? Are we included in that?"

"No," Sam says flatly. "It's just...suspicious--look, can I come in?"

"Sam, wait!" You push to make a wall in the doorway, meaning Steve can no longer see you or what's happening while a silence, an extremely pregnant pause, stretches.

Afterward, there's a whisper.

"Is he here?"

Your reply is only a stutter of unfinished words, but that's enough. Sam's stepped past and halted a few feet inside before his scanning gaze lands on Steve.

Steve's not sure what he expects his friend to do. He's misjudging reactions left and right these days, so he can't presume that--

"Gym?" Sam ticks his arm, thumb pointing back out to the hall. "I'm going for a run."

He has to convince you and Steve that the whole place really has been cleared before Steve changes clothes.

The string-light and garland-lined corridors remind Steve that his apartment remains devoid of any festive touches. You two have been too distracted to realize it's the day before Christmas Eve, so the 'evacuation' will likely draw no attention from the average employee.

Stark is just adamant they have the holiday for family. That's all. The only people who live there are Avengers.

The smell of the rubber floor when they walk onto the track spikes nostalgia in the back of Steve's brain, and in his utter joy to be there again, he starts sprinting like old times.

His blood pumps and his lungs stretch, but it's too hard, too fast. His blood thunders in his ears and makes his head swim. His lungs burn fiercely and seize. He collapses, gasping through his weakest asthma attack yet, but it still happens.

Things are almost, almost the same. Things are still different.

Without taking the opportunity to gloat (too much), Sam uses his powers, skills he's had all along, to divine Steve's real fear:

Steve changed things, and he may have changed things so much that it's all ruined. He can't go back to being Cap because he showed his colors: he chose you over everything else. What if you can't go back to being his wife because of that same choice?

Sam helps Steve off the floor.

"You walked the same circle for a long time, buddy. Instead of getting off the track entirely, try one lane over. Baby steps."

Steve snorts. "Ya know, she said something similar."

"Yeah, well, some of us filled in the stoic charm while you were gone."

"Comes naturally to you, doesn't it?"

Wilson turns to walk backwards, flashing pearly whites. "The outfit is growing on me, and I think the press were just about to stop calling me Black Cap." He playfully punches Steve's shoulder. "We'll see how far this sets me back, huh?"

After realizing he has to take it easy, Steve enjoys a long, mostly quiet run beside his friend, never once passing him. Though Steve asks about returning tomorrow, Sam has to decline. Christmas Eve is for Sarah and her boys, and Sam's sister will raise hell if crossed.

Just before leaving the gym, Sam hugs Steve, the length and intensity of the embrace telling Steve all he needs to know. Sam--like everyone else who knows so far--is happier than he is hurt, and that stifles Steve in a torrent of humility.

He doesn't deserve the strength of this family built around him, but he is grateful.

Steve also doesn't expect to find Natasha and Bucky in his apartment when he returns. He was hoping to put up some decorations with you, bring a touch of joyous spirit to that place you've been emotionally entombed for months, but he outright frowns when seeing the box they brought.

Between you and Nat sits the bin of intel the Keepers gathered on you and left behind at a raided facility. You're pouring over the dirty details of horrible intrusion to your private life, both you and Steve's, and he can't help but watch your face closely.

You do look horrified. You look furious for minutes on end, file after file, until you finally ask, "who's had stuff like this on you guys?"

That's the thing. That's the part eating away at Steve's shame. It's why he can't be beyond a superficial level of sorry for what he's done.

"The Red Room," Nat replies softly.

Buck shrugs. "Hydra...among others."

Steve knows what that intel could have been a precursor to; they could manipulate more than just him. You could have been used, you could have been changed, and it would have been his fault. Extremes are most of his life, so Steve goes to extreme measures to keep his life separate from all of that.

Blurring those lines--bringing you closer to the fray of this scary and violent world feels irresponsible.

You continue to ask candid questions about what Nat and Bucky were doing this whole time. The response is grueling, a complex web of taking out targets without signaling an ulterior motive, every interaction carefully executed to seem natural, all the while knowing that Steve waited to come home and you waited for...well, the truth.

The way Natasha describes it makes Steve sick to his stomach.

He never wanted this, but he has to live with the consequences.

You thumb over a few stalking photographs in your hand and simply say, "that was quite a commitment."

Something triggers in Steve, and suddenly, his next move is crystal clear.

"I'll--I'll be right back," he blurts.

All three of you startle in confusion, sat around the coffee table like it's the most normal thing in the world to share so much. You've had top clearance for twenty-four hours. You're already a pro, and that makes Steve's idea that much more perfect.

He races through the building, glad he doesn't have to hide, and pounds on Tony's door.

As soon as Tony opens up though, Morgan rushes past his legs and lets out a blood-curdling cry that ends in a sobbing, "you're alive."

The little girl flings herself into Steve's arms, refusing to let go the entire time he asks Stark--all the Starks--for a favor.

You wake up the next morning to find a note from Steve and a dress of yours hung by the tree you put up after a long meal with Nat and Bucky.

Important errand, the note reads. Expect Tony to come by at 11. Wear this, please. I love you.

It's the dress you chose for your first date with Steve, the date that kinda never happened because the compound was invaded and you had to kill a guy. Odd memory to resurrect, but you do adore that dress.

You're not surprised when Tony arrives in one of his signature suits, nor when he makes a show of walking you through the halls on his arm. He has the uncanny ability to chat about nothing using the maximum number of words. He's delightful that way.

Your first real clue is Morgan, standing outside some double doors to one of the flex rooms, like the ones changed for training different abilities, like the ones used for therapy circles. In fact, it's the same room, the exact same double doors as years ago.

The girl looks fit to burst, clearly told to keep her cheers to a minimum as she clutches a wicker Easter basket in her hands, crouching as if ready to spring into action.

Pepper stands close by. Nat and Bucky whisper conspiratorially a ways down the hall.

Then you notice.

Tony has on a black suit with red pin-stripes, Pepper a blue dress with a white belt, Natasha a red dress with a white belt, and Bucky a navy suit with a black-shirt underneath.

"We did our best on short notice," Tony rambles off, guiding you to a stop in front of the party.

"This is for you," Morgan squeaks, ripping a colorful bundle of pipe cleaners out of the basket. There are buttons woven to the tops of each 'stem.'

Pepper quickly adds, "wild flowers were...a bit scarce, as you can imagine."

You brave a single question.

"What's going on?"

Everyone just beams at you, falling into a pattern of pairs behind Morgan before Tony winks and tells you to follow his lead.

The doors open, and there, at the end of the aisle, stands Steve--your Steve--in his old Captain America outfit minus the cowl. His hair is still long and darker, but his beard is properly trimmed.

All you can think is how you'll tease him about that.

You pinch at the leather sleeve in curiosity, and Steve leans over.

"This is the last thing I'll ever do in it," he says before kissing your cheek. "Promise."

"Says the guy who's stolen it twice," Tony mutters from his place on the other side of Bucky.

"He has a point," Nat chimes in.

The poor priest clears his throat and bellows, "dearly beloved..."

He keeps his promise.

At a press conference just before New Year's, Steve is announced as one of those rescued from "an enemy base" in an undisclosed location.

The crowd of reporters erupts in a chaos of inquisition, but all Steve will give them, standing there in a simple sweater and slacks, is his official resignation of the title Cap.

"What do we call you then?" someone shouts from the back.

"Just Steve. I am Steve Rogers, that's all." He looks to his left for the comfort of your face. "And this--" he grabs your hand "--is Mrs. Rogers, my soulmate."

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @claireelizabeth85 @patzammit @supraveng @1950schick @jamneuromain @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts

A/N: and yes, the full-version will be written eventually.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[spectrechosts]

Date Night

This is one of my longer series, and is mostly porn without plot about a human girl being a subby blood donor to a vampire lesbian couple. It's not like, *devoid* of story, but a decent chunk of chapters are just fucking.

Full Series

Willow giggled as her two dates fawned over her.

She had been the center of attention all night, even though they were an actual couple and she was just some dork who replied to a personal ad she saw on the local occult forum.

FF4F - Vampires Seeking Human for Netflix and Chills

Vampire couple want to take you on a romantic night out before heading back to our place for… drinks ;)

$1000 + Any medical costs incurred, and we'll pay for your dinner as well!

The money was definitely nice, she couldn't deny it. $1000 was more than she would make in a week working, and it was certainly more than the going rate for selling blood. And this restaurant was fancy, she would never go someplace like this. She didn't even have clothes nice enough for a place like this, and she had told the vampires that, and they told her that they had already picked something for her to wear.

Which really tied in nicely to the actual reason she had answered the ad: She really fucking wanted to get dominated by a vampire. Two vampires was an insane act of decadence. And they were paying her to do it. It was a dream come true.

It felt a little embarrassing how much she wanted it, honestly. She barely knew these girls and she was more than ready to do anything they asked, they could drain her dry in the middle of the restaurant and she would thank them to her last breath.

She was feeling incredibly gay, to put it mildly.

For their part, Alice and Senna seemed extremely into her as well. If they were only playing along for her sake, she couldn't tell. And whether they were into her romantically or into her the way that a pair of wolves is into a deer they had cornered, that was…

Well, it didn't matter. She was having a nice night regardless.

A very nice night, if Alice's hand on her thigh was any indication.

"I think," Alice husked in her ear, fingers drifting teasingly close to the hem of her dress, "That we should take this back to our place. Don't you?"

"Don't be pushy. We promised her a romantic night out, and that's what she'll get." Said Senna, coolly.

"I can't help myself! She looks so cute in that dress, I just want to eat her up." Alice said, flashing a fanged smile as if the double meaning wasn't obvious.

"Alice. You're acting like a horny teenager, let the girl finish her meal."

"Fiiine. Sorry, Willow."

"It's cool." Squeaked Willow, who was getting wet just from knowing they wanted to bite her. "C-Can I ask though, what's so exciting about this for you two? I mean, I'm nothing special, and you can just buy blood-"

"Ugh." Alice said, rolling her eyes.

"You are special, first of all." Senna said, placing a finger to Willow's lips to silence her protestations. "Second, drinking blood out of a bag just isn't the same."

"Mhm. It's like eating gruel. Back when we started living openly among your kind, they even had us drinking pig's blood. Disgusting."

"So we want to feed properly, but it's hard to find people that suit our tastes. Right blood type, in good health, local, willing, cute, shares our interests…"

"I haven't gotten to really sink my teeth into anybody since the nineties." Alice whined. "It's awful."

"I-It sounds like you're looking for more than just a meal?" Said Willow, hopefully.

Senna smiled coyly. "Maybe. No reason to go through all this searching every time if we can find someone interested in a more… long-term engagement. But let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"I could do this again!" Willow offered. "A-Anytime you want!"

Alice and Senna shared a look.

"We haven't even gotten to your end of the bargain, sweetheart." Alice chided.

"We could, uh-" Willow swallowed hard. "Get to it now. I-If you want."

"Only if it's what you want, cutie. This is your night." Senna said.

Alice grumbled, pulling Willow closer to her.

"Stop trying to talk her out of it, Sen. I'm hungry."

Willow felt very much like a prey animal in that moment, in the clutches of a beast that wanted nothing more than to tear open her throat and devour her.

"I-It's fine, really, it's why I'm here. The date is just a bonus." Willow said, and Alice relaxed a tiny bit, still holding her firmly but no longer digging her nails in like she was afraid someone might steal her away.

"See? She's some kinda blood pervert, it's cool." She said, and Willow groaned because she wasn't not some kind of blood pervert, but who just says that in public?

"Okay, but if you change your mind tell us. We won't get mad." Senna insisted.

"Really, I'm not going to."

"That's what the last girl said. Just keep it in mind."

"Oh man, that was funny." Alice said, as they paid and exited the restaurant. "She was like you, total vamp fetishist (I-I'm not-), and then she sees her own blood and freaks the fuck out, thinks she's gonna die. She threw a lamp at me and fainted in the hallway. Super apologetic the next day, but did not get a second date."

~

Alice had barely shepherded her into their apartment before she was nipping at her neck eagerly, not hard enough to draw blood yet, but enough to show her intent.

"You know," Senna said, "while 'netflix and chill' is a euphemism for fucking you're still supposed to at least pretend the pretense for taking them home was real."

"Don't wanna. Hungry."

"Ugh. Centuries to learn manners and you're still such a boor."

"I'm taking care of our guest." She said, and trailed kisses up to Willow's ear. "Tell us Willow," She purred, eyes locked on Senna still. "Do you want to watch a movie? Or do you want Senna to come help me make you feel good?"

Alice's hands were really wandering now, and making her stop was the furthest thing from Willow's mind. "P-Please, Senna…" She said, her face flushed and hot under her gaze.

"Oh, poor thing, we'll take care of you." Senna cooed, running her thumb over her cheek. "Alice you know I can't resist when you make them beg."

"I know, so just cut loose and enjoy her already. You deserve it."

Was it weird that Willow was getting turned on by them talking past her like this?

Weird or not, she was going to add more fuel to the fire.

"Please bite me, Senna, I need it." She begged, and Alice rewarded her by slipping her fingers past the band of her panties to idly stroke her clit. She whimpered and exposed her neck to the other girl.

Senna looked like she was in a trance, her pupils dilated and her fangs exposed. She leaned in and-

Blinked, shook her head.

"Wait- I know how I want her. Give me a second to get ready." She stammered, and disappeared down a hall. Willow whined, so close to what she wanted only to have it torn away at the last second.

"Relax, pet. She'll make it worth your while." Alice said, still lazily circling her clit.

"W-Will you bite me? Please?" Willow said, desperate.

"Hmmm. I want to. You know there's really nothing else like it- The warmth, the taste of fresh blood, rhythmically spurting into your mouth with your prey's heartbeat, feeling them squirm in your grasp, their life in your hands. It's intoxicating."

Willow shuddered and squeezed her thighs together.

"Buuuut, it'd be impolite for me to steal the first taste. Wouldn't it pet? Let's go see what she has planned for you."

Alice withdrew her hands and guided Willow into the room Senna had retreated into. Senna sat, naked, on the edge of their bed, applying lube to a strapon.

"Oh good, I was just about to call for you. Strip." Senna ordered.

Willow fumbled with the zipper on her back before Alice got it, yanking her dress down and opening the clasp of her bra for her. "T-Thanks" She stuttered, clumsily removing her underwear.

"My pleasure." Alice hummed, unabashedly eyefucking her.

"Come here. Now." Senna continued, her eyes a black void that Willow sank into, her legs carrying her with no input from her mind. Her head emptied, thoughts replaced with a fuzzy haze and-

"Hey! You said no hypnotizing people." Alice complained.

"Got carried away. You forgive me, don't you Willow?"

Willow snapped out of it in Senna's lap, the cool silicone of the strapon brushing against her lips.

"You don't have to hypnotize me, I'll do anything you ask." She said, grinding against its shaft.

"Well fuck, isn't she just perfect?" Alice said, embracing her from behind. "Our debauched little vampire thrall."

"Please, I-I need-"

"I know pet. Raise those hips up for me."

Willow raised up on her knees, and Senna aligned the tip of the strapon with her entrance. She made her wait for it, and Alice got to work kissing her neck and playing with her clit in the meantime. Willow whimpered, needy and sensitive.

"Good girl. Now down. Nice and slow, I want to savor every expression on your pretty face as I fill you up."

Willow sank onto the toy, her movements jerky and unsteady. She ached for more stimulation, but disobeying was unthinkable. It took all her willpower to keep a slow pace, feeling every inch of the strapon slip inside her.

"So pretty…" Senna murmured.

"Doing so well for us…" Added Alice.

A moan escaped Willow's lips as she finally reached the base of the toy and Senna rolled her hips to push the last little bit inside.

"Gooood girl." She cooed. "Do you want more?"

"Yeesssss"

"And what are you going to do to make us give it to you?"

"Please bite me, pleasepleaseplease-" Willow babbled.

Alice's fangs were already grazing her neck, and Senna took one of her hands and put her teeth to her wrist. She bit down first, and Willow inhaled sharply at the sting of her fangs. She withdrew them and placed her lips on the wound, suckling on it as blood pumped into her mouth.

Senna started thrusting in and out of Willow while she drank, and the conflicting sensations overwhelmed her. Pain throbbed in her wrist with every gulp that Senna took, and quiet moans escaped her lips every time she snapped her hips upwards. Senna kept her eyes locked on her through it all, and Willow watched them change as the bloodlust took over; looking at her hungrily, possessively. The polite vampire from earlier was gone, she was at the mercy of a monster now. Her fingers dug into her hip as she fucked her harder, faster-

And then Alice bit her.

If Senna's bite was painful, Alice's was agonizing. She bit down hard and didn't let go, leaving her fangs embedded in her neck and letting blood spurt out around them. Willow squealed, tormented by every miniscule movement that Alice made sending another jolt of pain shooting through her. She drank messily, blood overflowing past her lips as Willow's pounding heartbeat forced more and more out of her.

"-fucking wasting it when she tastes so good-" Senna growled, detaching from her wrist and applying pressure to the wound as she sat up to lick at the blood trailing down Willow's chest.

"-can't help it, you know jugular is messy-" Alice said, briefly unlatching before biting her again at the nape of her neck, and then again on her shoulder. She wasn't even aiming for a vein, she was just biting for the sake of sinking her teeth into warm meat while she could.

Willow couldn't focus on their bickering, she felt lightheaded, all the intense feelings bubbling to a hot point inside her. Alice wrapped an arm around her throat to cover her gushing wound, warm blood oozing between her fingers. She nibbled at her ear, whispering to her.

"Look at how nice Senna is treating you, drinking up all that blood you spilled."

Alice's voice sent shivers down her spine, and she looked down and watched Senna lick a rivulet of blood off of her nipple, swirling her tongue around the stiff peak before biting her gently, making her whimper.

"I think you should do something nice for her, don't you?"

Willow nodded, unable to speak. Her heart was racing, her breath came in shallow gasps, she could barely think.

"I think," Alice purred, "That she wants you to cum around her cock. Can you do that for her pet?"

That drew a shaky moan from Willow, and she wrapped her arms around Senna's head, grasping for something to keep her steady as she went weak in the knees.

"Be a good girl now. Cum for her, cum for us."

Willow squeaked as she went rigid, the pressure inside her releasing as she shuddered and came all over Senna's strap. Both of the vampires cooed praise as she rode out the intense orgasm, shaking and gasping as they held her.

Her head was fuzzy as she came down, her heart was still racing, her breathing even shallower, she felt-

"Dizzy, f-feel weird, I-I…"

Senna's eyes cleared in an instant and filled with concern.

"Oh shit, hold onto her she's gonna-"

~

Willow awoke tucked into the bed, her bites neatly dressed with gauze. She sat up, confused-

"Hey. Don't get up too fast. How do you feel?" Senna said, gently pushing her back down. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, and saw Alice sleeping beside her, blindly grasping for her after being disturbed by her sudden movement.

"Um. Kinda woozy? I don't- I don't remember what-"

"You passed out, cutie. Our fault, we got carried away and drank too much."

"Oh." Willow said, embarrassed. "S-Sorry."

"Don't be, pet. You were amazing."

"O-Oh. Thanks." She felt… weirdly proud of being a good meal. "What, um, what time is it?"

"Ten-ish."

"Fuck, I have work-" She said, and started to get up again.

"Nuh-uh. Call in sick, you need to rest."

"I-I can't-"

"I wasn't asking." Senna said, fishing around in her purse for a wad of bills that she counted out and handed to Willow. "Here. What we agreed, plus extra to make up for you missing work."

Willow's eyes went wide, this was 2,500 fucking dollars.

"I-I can't take this-"

"You can and you will, pretty thing. Now call in sick so we can all go to bed, okay?" Senna said, cupping her cheek tenderly.

God, she really didn't need to hypnotize her to make her do anything she asked.

"U-Um, yeah, okay."

"Good girl." Senna said, and gave her a kiss.

[copperbadge]

[ID: Two line graphs from the ADHD phone app EndeavorOTC, showing my "focus score" over time. The first graphic shows me starting on October 7th with a score of 36, which rises steadily to a score of 59 on October 20th. The second shows my latest scores, from November 14th to today, December 5th, showing several scores of 63 and 64 but nothing higher.]

It really has been hard to know whether EndeavorOTC is having a solid impact on my focus, or whether it would be lasting if I stopped playing. The initial spike to 59 is nice but also it's in keeping with a skills improvement as you just...learn to play a video game. Since October 23, my scores have been between 61 and 64, and while that does include a recommended a two-week break, it's still a little frustrating not to be able to crack 65, to see such a visible plateau basically "since getting good at the game".

Skills plateaus are natural and I know that, so I'm not necessarily disappointed or disillusioned. As a metric, the Focus Score really just measures how good you are at hitting goals in the game; because ADHD is perception-based it's also tough to measure, outside of the game, if I'm more focused, have better executive function, etc. Especially since the company can be vague about what "improvements" we're meant to see. Which I also understand -- specificity would drive a placebo effect in addition to frustrating people who aren't mapping onto their specific trajectory. But it's still a struggle.

I don't need my headphones as often in public, or audio in general for tasks as often (I did the dishes the other day without a podcast for the first time in probably a solid decade) but that could also be medication, or just...getting older and more tolerant. I think I'm socially more inhibited, which I should note is a good thing -- I'm less likely to interrupt or backtrack to previous conversations or accidentally dominate a conversation. But again, I don't know exactly where that's coming from.

I keep telling myself I already paid for the year so I shouldn't really try to seriously assess any of this until I've been "treating" with the game for a year, which will be another four six-week treatments after this one. That does take some pressure off because the game's already paid for through October and it's only 25 minutes a day, so whether it works or not I might as well keep going.

But patience is something I am still learning, it appears. :D

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 24 - Behind the Scenes

Summary: A decade into their careers, Corroded Coffin answers the ever-present question: what makes good music?

Word Count: 983

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Older!Corroded Coffin, Set sometime in the 2000s, 1st Person POV, News Article, Reference to Day 23 Up and Coming, friendship

Note: Thank you to the wonderful @br0ck-eddie for the beta read

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Cracking Open the Lid - Behind the Scenes with Corroded Coffin By Alex McCall

What makes great music?

I'm talking really great music.

The kind that inspires sold out shows and screaming audiences and a chart-topping album that's gonna win an award sooner rather than later.

Is it good lyrics? Something you can dance to? Die-hard fans? Maybe it's a little bit of everything, especially after a decade of slogging through bars and opening acts for bands that aren't as good and day jobs because gigs don't pay enough for the gas to get you to the next show?

Well, that's what Indiana-native Corroded Coffin attributes to their success.

"We got lucky," guitarist Eddie Munson insists as I join them backstage before their sold out Chicago show. "A thousand bands work hard and deserve to be here, work just as hard as we did but it truly is luck."

"We rolled a Nat 20," drummer Gareth Emerson adds, earning a laugh from the whole band. An inside joke for sure, but their history with Dungeons and Dragons isn't much of a secret if you've listened to their music at all in the past.

It's not every day that you get to cover a story about a band you "discovered" a decade ago, but here I am nonetheless. I passed countless fans lined up outside of the arena and chatted with a few of them. Stories range from hearing them open for Metallica a few years ago to someone who'd never heard of the band until they won tickets at work and became fast fans.

One of them asks when I first heard of Corroded Coffin, and I tell them, almost a little smugly, that I saw them playing live on St. Patty's Day at Cork and Kerry back in '90.

I tell the boys about it too--I'm allowed to call them the boys now--and they immediately dive into reminiscing.

"Was that the time," frontman Jeff Franklin can't stop laughing, "that Davey drank so much green beer he projectile vomited over the crowd at the end?"

"No!" Bassist Dave Nelson protects his honor. "That was the time someone threw a bra at you and you decided to wear it as a hat."

It was neither of those times.

No, this was the time Eddie decided to try crowdsurfing and landed flat on his face.

"Seriously you were there for that and you decided to come see us play again?" Eddie goans.

But it was that gumption that put them on my radar and made me want to see what a bunch of idiot kids from Indiana--kids like me, a transplant from Fort Wayne--had to bring to the table.

And it's been a rollercoaster ever since.

Since my first article about these guys, they've been everywhere man. Literally. Across the US, on tour after tour after tour. They recorded an original song for a major motion picture. They had their shot acting as extras in a movie too.

"That, uh," Dave shakes his head vigorously, "we don't talk about that, actually."

"First and last acting credit," Gareth agrees.

"Didn't you play Romeo back in high school though?" Jeff teases him.

It's this camaraderie that punctuates my time with them. I'm immediately laughing at all of their jokes, I'm folded into the intimacy of their group. And it isn't exclusive to my interview; this is the energy that they bring to the stage every night. It's what they've always done, ever since that first performance I witnessed and, I'm sure, every performance since.

And yeah I could talk about how they give me a tour of the green room and all of their snacks and the required video game console because Gare is almost done beating Legend of Zelda 2. Or their tour bus and Eddie's stuffed animal collection.

But it's their friendship that is the shining beacon of the band.

Always has been.

I ask if they fight much.

"Always" they say in tandem.

"Bickering like an old married couple," Eddie elaborates. "But I guess we are sort of married to one another. Lifelong commitments and all that."

I try to ask if any of them are married, but the band is notoriously private. (They told me, because I'm one of the guys now, I'm just not allowed to write about it.)

But private lives aside does that mean the band breaking up is completely off the table?

"I'm sure we'll retire at some point," Jeff offers. "Ed's knees are giving out."

"He's the old man of the group," Gareth snickers.

Something is thrown across the greenroom and hits the drummer in the head. A pillow. It starts some kind of pillow fight slash food fight between them all, and I even get in on some of the action with a well-aimed barrage of M&Ms of my own.

In hindsight I feel bad for the people who have to clean that up. I would offer some sort of compensation but the band famously pays their venue teams very well.

Someone calls a truce and we wrap up the interview.

I get to have my fanatical moment, showing off some of the articles and ticket stubs I've brought along with, as well as an old autographed polaroid that I've had at my desk for years.

I'm only a few years older than they are, and the way I've followed their career has been more like an older cousin hoping they make it big than anything. I've listened to their good songs and their bad, but I've never given up on them. None of their fans really have.

"We appreciate it man," Jeff nods and all of the guys have tears in their eyes as they agree. "It's all for you guys. And for each other. But for the fans? Always."

So what makes great music? I ask them.

And once again in tandem, I get my answer. But I guess I didn't need to ask them to know.

"Friendship."