#player-adjacent social media | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nerdraging4point0 · 8 days ago

Text

Power Play // Chapter 11 // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, PinV, public adjacent sex, rough sex, minor cnc dynamics, multiple POV, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, aggressive hockey players, possessive male, protective male.

Fanclub: @tearfallpixie @ladyveronikawrites @beaker1636 @missduffsblog @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @rumoured-whispers @sorrowsofsilence @sundamariis @letmeadoreyoux @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @mysticdoodlez @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @somebodyels3 @missduffsblog

Shout out to @flowery-mess who has been loving this series at every turn! Thank you 🙏

Sarah's POV

We stepped off the bus in Orlando, just outside the towering ice rink, I could smell the muggy salt of the air and the humidity hit me like a truck. The game wasn't for several more hours, but our team's media and PR representatives were already in full swing, eager to capture crucial pre-game moments of the players entering their new territory before they hit the ice.

I hadn't traveled with the team all that often, opting to stay home for most games. But this time, things were changing. The Otters, a newly formed team in the Orlando area, were in need of more players to help build up their roster, and a new nurse position had opened up. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, even though I hadn't really told anyone about it, except for Jack. I knew my father would likely try to persuade me to stay by his side, which, if I'm being honest, hadn't been so bad lately. But then there was Noah - the complicated, brooding asshole who had been the source of so much tension and unspoken feelings since the season started. Ever since our stolen moment in the supply room, he had become distant, barely looking at me or speaking to me, and his aggression on the ice at the last game had been more intense than I'd seen in a while. Maybe, I thought, this move to a new team, far away from the drama and the complicated situationship, could be the fresh start I needed, the chance to finally find some clarity and peace, away from the emotional turmoil that had been weighing me down.

As I stepped into the bustling entry dock, I took my spot next to Veronica and Ashley, the public relations manager and our social media extraordinaire. The air was electric with anticipation as the players began to file in, each one acutely aware of the watchful eyes and cameras trained upon them. Ashley was animatedly pointing and leaning in close to her assistant, instructing her on the ideal angles and lighting needed for the best social media shots. From what I could overhear, her assistant would be responsible for capturing the still images while Ashley herself moved in to secure high-quality video footage.

The players, who had endured this routine countless times before, entered the dock with a practiced nonchalance. They moved with an effortless grace, spacing themselves evenly and resisting the urge to hurry through the gauntlet of media attention. It was almost comical to watch these towering, broad-shouldered athletes attempt to affect an air of casual indifference, as if tall, handsome men in tailored three-piece suits strolling through a throng of cameras was an everyday occurrence.

Sanchez was the first to catch my eye as he strode in alone, his left hand casually tucked into the pocket of his sleek gray suit. His dark hair was styled back with a liberal application of gel, giving him a polished, sophisticated look, and his face was clean-shaven, allowing his Rolex to take center stage on his wrist. As he passed our little trio, he turned his head slightly, lowering his sunglasses just enough to lock eyes with me before giving a subtle wink and pushing the frames back up his nose. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his blatant display of cockiness - he was the epitome of an athlete who truly believed he owned the team.

Veronica leaned in close, whispering in my ear with the same tone of disgust that I felt, "He thinks he runs the show, doesn't he?" We watched as the rest of the team filed through, each one distinct in their own way. Ruffilo and Pierce walked side-by-side, engrossed in a deep conversation, while Nick's dark hair was neatly tied back in a clean bun, his charcoal suit devoid of a tie. In contrast, Pierce had opted for a periwinkle suit that perfectly complemented his sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

As McClain and Sanders glided past, their shoulders brushing together in perfect sync, I could barely tear my eyes away from the captivating scene unfolding before me. Noah and Karlsson, the dynamic duo, strolled by playfully shoving one another, their pearly white smiles lighting up the room. I had expected Noah to don a classic black suit, perhaps even mirroring Karlsson's ensemble, but the two had decidedly gone above and beyond for their grand entrance. Noah's lithe frame was impeccably fitted in a rich, wine-colored suit, the three buttons fastened neatly as his black shirt peeked out ever-so-slightly at the collar. In contrast, Jolly's dark navy ensemble was left intentionally unbuttoned, the tails of his jacket open as he casually slid his hands into his pockets, forgoing a tie and leaving the top buttons of his shirt undone for a relaxed, effortless look.

Veronica's sultry voice suddenly broke my train of thought, her bottom lip slipping between her perfectly veneered teeth as a cherry red gloss glistened on her lips. "Now that's a media shot," she purred, her gaze fixed intently on the stylishly dressed players. Grateful for the distraction, I quickly reached for my buzzing phone, relieved to see the number for the Otters medical director displayed on the screen.

The sudden interruption provided the perfect excuse to extricate myself from the uncomfortable situation I had found myself in. Hastily excusing myself, I hurried to answer the call, eager to shift my attention elsewhere. To my pleasant surprise, the caller was none other than the medical director for the Otters, the opposing team we were playing against. "Good afternoon, Ms. Brody," the director greeted me warmly. "We noticed the team arrived safe and well, and I was wondering if you might have time to meet with us now, rather than waiting until our originally scheduled 4 o'clock meeting?"

Without hesitation, I eagerly accepted the invitation, practically sprinting towards the locker rooms as I hung up the phone. Weaving my way through the throngs of players, I made my way down the hallway, following the director's detailed instructions to locate the home team's lounge and the conference room where they awaited me.

Just as I was about to reach my destination, I was stopped in my tracks by the familiar voice of Pierce. "Hey, where are you headed in such a hurry?" he inquired, his brow furrowing with curiosity. Caught off guard, I hastily concocted a flimsy excuse about needing to meet with the medical staff to stay up-to-date on the latest care and treatment protocols. The words felt clumsy and unconvincing as they left my lips, and I could see the skepticism etched across Pierce's face. "Okay, well, make sure you take notes," he replied, a hint of teasing in his tone. "We like having you around, wouldn't want to lose you 'cause of an error or anything."

As I watched him rejoin his teammates, a curious mix of emotions washed over me. Pierce's parting words had struck a chord, leaving me feeling unexpectedly touched. It was the first time I had heard any of the players express that they genuinely enjoyed my presence and valued the work I did. In that moment, I found myself reluctant to continue on to the meeting, my previous eagerness replaced by a newfound hesitation and a desire to linger in the warmth of Pierce's unexpected acknowledgment.

I made my way into the conference room, my palms sweating and heart pounding, I couldn't help but feel completely out of my element. I shook hands with each member present, gave my best smile taking a seat across the table from them. Here I was, a highly qualified and experienced nurse, the panel before me was an intimidating one - a group of stern-faced doctors and athletic trainers, all of them seasoned veterans in their fields. I tried to sit up straight and appear confident, but inside I was a bundle of nerves. What did I have to offer? Sure my academic and rotation skills were some of the best in my class, and I recently had some hockey experience. I had spent years honing my skills, earning certifications and accolades, but now all of that felt inadequate as I faced this daunting interview. The head doctor, a broad-shouldered man with a graying beard, began firing questions at me rapid-fire, grilling me on my experience with athletic injuries, my familiarity with the unique demands placed on professional athletes' bodies, and my ability to think quickly and adapt in high-pressure situations. I did my best to respond articulately, highlighting my extensive trauma training and my calm, level-headed approach even in the most chaotic circumstances. But I could see the skepticism in their eyes - these were people who pushed their bodies to the absolute limit every day, and they needed someone who could keep up.

As the interview progressed, I found myself increasingly unsure of my chances. The team trainer, a stern-faced woman with piercing eyes, seemed particularly unimpressed by my answers. I worried that my personal background with the current team's coach would be seen as a weakness, that they would view me as someone who wouldn’t have gotten the job without her father.

As the interview finally concluded, a sense of dread and self-doubt began to creep over me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had utterly botched the entire process, completely failing to showcase my true skills and capabilities. All the confidence I had mustered up beforehand had evaporated, replaced by a crippling insecurity that left me longing to retreat back to the familiar comforts of my team. With heavy steps, I made my way through the bustling locker room, bypassing the lively camaraderie and boisterous music that normally would have lifted my spirits. Instead, I felt isolated and out of place, my sole focus being to reach the small, tucked-away office where my dad and Jack were waiting.

The moment I stepped inside, their eyes immediately locked onto me, and I could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping across my cheeks as my glassy eyes betrayed the inner turmoil I was experiencing. My dad, sensing my distress, reached out with a gentle concern, using the childhood nickname he hadn't uttered in years - "Firefly, what's wrong?" I took a deep, steadying breath, struggling to hold back the sniffles that threatened to escape as I recounted the disastrous interview.

"Daddy, don't get mad, but I thought I would be a good fit for the Otters as their head nurse. I had an interview scheduled for four o'clock, but they moved it up to just forty minutes ago. Daddy, it was brutal - I felt so out of my league, and I'm convinced I didn't answer any of the questions right. I feel like I absolutely fucked it up." The words tumbled out, laced with disappointment and self-doubt that I couldn't quite shake.

As Jack quietly excused himself and retreated from the office, shutting the door behind him, I felt tension settling in the air. My father, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation, gently placed the stack of papers he had been reviewing down on the desk before him. Taking a long, steadying breath, he turned to face me, his gaze conveying a mixture of concern and affection. "Is being here so bad?" he asked, the weight of his words hanging heavily between us.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I struggled to find the right words. "No, daddy, that's not it," I replied, my voice trembling slightly. "It's just...I'm an adult now, and I don't want people to think that I only got this job because you're my dad. I don't want them to think that, because you're my father, I can get away with whatever I want." The admission spilled forth, my fears and insecurities laid bare before him.

My father's expression softened, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Sweetie, I didn't pick you because you were my daughter, although that would be reason enough," he said, as I wiped the tears from my cheek. "I picked you because your skills were exceptional. I've seen your grades, your clinical evaluations, and I've heard nothing but great things from your professors." He held up a hand, silencing my attempt to argue. "And don't even try to tell me they said those things because I'm your father. I had Jack call, and no one knew you were my daughter when we spoke to them."

Stepping around the desk, my father enveloped me in a warm, comforting embrace, his strong arms offering a sense of security and reassurance. "Sweetie, I'm sure you nailed it. If they extend the offer, I advise you to do what you think is best - stay or go. Either way, your daddy is proud of you." His words, spoken with unwavering conviction, soothed the anxieties that had been weighing so heavily on my mind, and I found myself melting into his embrace, my fears slowly dissipating as I basked in the unconditional love and support of my father.

Noah’s POV

The sweat chills my forehead as we battle in the heat of the game, muscles burning with the exertion. My left calf throbs with a sharp ache - sometime in the first half, my leg had stretched out too far as I dove for the puck, the sudden overextension pulling at the tender muscle. But there's no time to nurse the injury, not when the Otters are pressing us so relentlessly. They may be leading us by a mere two points, but their seamless teamwork and razor-sharp communication puts our own disjointed efforts to shame. Our captain seems disinterested in coordinating the team, preferring to simply bark orders and expect us to fall in line without any real guidance. One small fuck up and he's quick to berate us, his face twisted into a snarl behind the bite guard clenched between his teeth. I can see the tension in every line of his body as he carves furious paths across the ice, desperately trying to regain control of the game - a game that seems to be slipping through his fingers despite his best efforts. The Otters may have the advantage in skill and strategy, but our own internal discord could very well be our downfall if we don't find a way to come together as a cohesive unit, and soon.

Players from both teams converge in a frenzied scrum at the end of the ice, their skates carving up the frozen surface as they jostle and shove for position. The Otters' center and his flanking teammates are locked in a desperate search, their eyes scanning the chaos for any opening, any sliver of space they can exploit to get a shot on goal. In the midst of the melee, McClain is zeroed in, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the puck as if it were a venomous rattlesnake coiled at his feet, ready to strike. I try to keep track of the elusive rubber disc, but in the heat of the moment, Sanchez comes barreling through, shoving past me and nearly knocking me off balance and onto the ice. Just as I regain my footing, Jolly glides up behind me, lending a steadying hand and helping me find my edges again as the players crash violently into the boards, all of them clawing and scraping in a fierce battle for possession of the puck.

The deafening roar of the crowd quickly gives way to a stunned, eerie silence as the sickening sound of the violent collision echoes through the packed arena. It's a chaotic blur of bodies and jerseys as the players collide, limbs tangling together in a violent frenzy. Suddenly, fists are flying and a wooden stick is snapped in half, the pieces clattering to the ice as the referees rush in to try to separate the brawling athletes. Teammates frantically scramble to pull their players back, desperate to deescalate the ugly situation.

"Charlie!" one of the Otters players shouts out in anguish over the panicked screams of the crowd, and as the bodies clear, my eyes catch the horrific sight. The fallen center lies motionless on the ice, his limbs twisted at unnatural, sickening angles. A dark, ominous pool of red is spreading beneath his left arm, the crimson liquid contrasting against the white ice. The crowd watches in a stunned, horrified trance, the only sound a hushed, disbelieving whisper escaping my lips: "Fuck."

The scene was nothing short of harrowing, as all eyes remained fixated on the crumpled, motionless figure lying on the frozen surface. In a frantic blur of movement, the medics rushed to him, their swift actions cutting through the eerie stillness that had descended upon the arena. The spectators, gripped by dread, waited with bated breath.

As the officials carefully surveyed the ice, assessing the aftermath of the recent scuffle, one of the referees suddenly caught sight of something that immediately piqued his interest. Peering down, I noticed a faint trail of red leading away from the Otter's center, the faded lines disappearing beneath the skates of my own teammate. Sanchez, unbothered, stood calmly with his stick resting casually on the frozen surface, his eyes locking momentarily with those of the officiating crew. And with a sickening, almost taunting sneer, he turned and began making a beeline straight for the penalty box.

***

"What the fuck was that, Sanchez?" my accusatory question hung in the air, laced with the bitterness of a game that had slipped through our fingers. The injury earlier had been the turning point, the moment where everything unraveled and our hard-fought efforts came crashing down. With their center replaced, the Otters had seized the momentum, and try as we might, we just couldn't regain footing, sinking deeper into the agony of defeat.

“What the fuck was what, Sebastian?” he growled at me.

Following the end of the game the rest of the team, still clad in their sweat-soaked uniforms, confronted him relentlessly, voices raised in a cacophony of outrage.

"You fucking brutalized him!" one teammate shouted, the accusation hanging heavy in the air as Sanchez, freshly showered and changed, met their gaze with a defiant shrug.

"Did you see me brutalize him?" he sneered, shrugging his shoulders as he drawled, “It was an accident.”

"Bullshit!" Pierce screamed from across the locker room unwilling to accept Sanchez's nonchalant dismissal of the incident that had cost them the game. Faces were ready and adrenaline was high, I was about to pull back and sock my fist into his smug face when coach barreled into the room.

"Sit the fuck down, all of you!" he bellowed, his voice booming through the tense silence. Collectively, we scrambled to obey, eyes locked on the coach as we settled onto the bench. Coach's hands twisted and clenched, his eyes bulging with barely-contained fury. "That was some bullshit out there," he spat, his words laced with venom. "You played like thieves, not like a team at all. This is NOT how I trained you."

Nick, unable to hold his tongue, suddenly blurted out, "It's all Sanchez's fault!" The accusation hung in the air, drawing a swift retort from Sanders. "Coach, I think Sanchez should be in trouble for this, not us!" he countered.

But coach would have none of it, his booming voice silencing the bickering. "I don't want to hear the blame game!" he bellowed, his face flushed a deep crimson. Turning his gaze to Sanchez, his expression hardened. "Sanchez, your playing for this season is under review. Pending Owens' injury assessment."

At the mention of Owens, a hush fell over the team, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily. I could barely choke out the words past the rage in my throat. "How is he?" I asked, my voice trembling. Coach’s expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features.

“At the moment, can't feel his fingers. Sarah and Leo are helping the nursing team with him before sending him to the hospital.” Coach took a deep shaky breath, “I want everyone to shower, pack up and be ready to go. No talking, I want silence. You are all punished, as of this moment you are no longer an NHL team on the way to winning the cup, you are now a rookie team who could learn some manners through discipline.” he stormed away leaving the rest of us sitting in guilt ridden silence. The air in the locker room was thick with tension and unease as we sat in stunned silence, the weight of Coach's words hanging heavily over us.

My heart raced, adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I stared at the spot where he had stormed out, his booming voice still echoing in my ears. I couldn't believe it - one moment we had been riding high, on the cusp of victory, and the next everything had come crashing down around us. Sanchez gripped his gear bag, tossing it over his shoulder as he left the locker room.

“I hope Sarah and Leo can help him.” Jolly's low, hushed voice carried through the silence.

“She’s good, she’ll figure it out.” My little fox knows her stuff. I had full confidence that she was the one who could uncover the truth. She was sharp, determined, and wouldn't rest until she got to the bottom of this. I knew she had the skills and the drive to dig into Owen's medical report and find the evidence we needed to take down Sanchez.

“We need a new captain.” Nick declared, the team collectively nodding their heads.

“We should take a vote,” Pierce offered “Give it to Coach when we get back to Santa Monica.”

“Sanchez won’t go quietly,” McClain warned.

“We need a solid replacement if we are going to go for that target.”

The debate soured and I drowned out the voices, ignoring it all as we each took our showers. The walk back to the bus, and arriving at the hotel was coated in deadly silence. Jolly and I made it to our room and I tossed my gear off in the corner, Jolly flopped on the bed kicking his shoes off letting them fly across the room. I stared at my bed, hands in my pockets deep in thought. My little fox. I hadn’t seen her, felt her, talked to her in weeks-had I fucked it up? My eyes glanced over at the NDA agreement hidden secretly in my backpack. I didn’t need to read it.

The journey back to the hotel had been cloaked in a stifling silence, the weight of unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions hanging heavy in the air. Reaching the hotel, I tossed my gear aside carelessly, the thud as it hit the floor barely registering. Jolly flung himself onto the bed, kicking off his shoes with a frustrated huff, sending them flying across the room. I stood there, hands jammed deep into my pockets, my gaze fixed on the empty mattress before me. The memory of her - my little fox-lingered, a phantom presence that I hadn't been able to reach in weeks.

Had I truly messed things up this time?

My eyes darted to the backpack where the NDA agreement lay hidden. I had signed it the night I got it. I didn't need to re-read the terms; they were seared into my mind. Now, with Sanchez's unsportsmanlike outburst threatening to bring the relentless media vultures circling our team once more, I knew I would need to rely on that NDA to cover my tracks - and hers. Any hint of scandal, any whisper of impropriety, would no doubt be dredged up and paraded before the world as if our team were some twisted reality TV spectacle. I had to protect myself, had to shield us both from the consequences should our clandestine relationship ever be exposed. That NDA would save me from being fired by the coach, certainly, but it would do nothing to stop him from hating me as her father.

But you know what, I didn’t care anymore.

#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian #noahsebastian fanfic #noah sebastian smut #hockey romance #hockeyromance #hockey!au #hockey #hockeyplayer!noah #hockeyomens

37 notes · View notes

mollish-art · 1 year ago

Text

What is Generation Loss: Unperson?

Unperson is a Generation Loss AU written, illustrated, and narrated by yours truly!

The story begins as canon-adjacent to Generation 1 (the first chapter, Savior's Stigmata, is technically a prologue, in that it takes place during the events of episode three of The Social Experiments). In chapters 2 and onwards, the cast of TSE begin an adventure anew.

Showfall Media has revolutionized the field of interactive entertainment. In Hetch's Social Experiments, this entertainment took the form of three consecutive livestreams, which the audience could actively participate in and, ultimately, decide the fate of the Hero [i.e. Generation 1 of Generation Loss]. Now, Showfall Media is proud to bring you entertainment through an even more immersive medium: video games.

Anathema Annihilation is Showfall's most innovative use of "Phantoptics" technology to date: a video game where one's choices really matter and actively impact the world we live in.

Charlie awakens in a new environment and with a new purpose as the face of the beta tester's Hero avatar. Elsewhere, Ranboo has been revived, reprogrammed, and repurposed with a new face of his own: a biomechanical, bestial antagonist known as "The Devourer".

The player character - the Hero (who we know to be Charlie) - joins forces with a helpful non-player Companion (Sneeg) to eliminate a wide range of enemies - known as "Anathemas" - across multiple levels, each culminating with a fight against a powerful boss: an "Abomination".

Depending on the player's Variant choice, the theme (and therefore appearance and ability mechanics) of the Anathemas, as well as the Hero and Companion classses, changes.

Regardless of the player's Variant choice, however, the Abominations always remain the same: previous cast members who have been previously rejected by an audience and have been revived and repurposed as biomechanical monstrosities.

As the Hero and Companion progress through the levels of Anathema Annihilation, their minds become increasingly plagued by questions concerning their memories, free will, and grasp of reality. But they are not the only ones cursed with introspection; the Devouerer, too, clings desperately on to whatever shreds of humanity it still possesses, and seeks, above all else, to avenge its friends.

...

Now that you have a brief synopsis of the world and premise of Unperson, if you are so inclined, you can read the available chapters here or check out the in-universe website I created for it!

On the website, you can find additional lore, concept art, links to all currently available chapters (as well as audiobook adaptations of all of them, narrated by the author), themed playlists, and a fanworks feature page (showcasing some of the fanart and cosplay that you guys have made for this story)!

I am always open to Tumblr asks if you have any further questions!

Please note that Unperson is currently on a bit of a hiatus, however, as I am in graduate school and must focus on my academics before working on this AU. It will be completed - I promise you that! I have plans for the rest of the story, as well as more art and such on the way. Patience is key ;)

Here are the currently available chapters:

That's all for now, folks! Remember to check out the official website as well as my Unperson Youtube Playlist, which contains speedpaints for all of the chapter art as well as the audiobook adaptation!

Lastly, if you'd like to keep up to date on this project or share your feedback, follow or post on the #UnpersonGL tag!

#UnpersonGL #Generation Loss #gen loss #AU #myart

158 notes · View notes

level2janitor · 2 months ago

Text

The Tactiquest Bard

Play tactiquest here!

bards are a fun, oddball character concept you mostly only see in heavily D&D-influenced media - there's not a whole lot of mythological or literary analogues for bards like there are for fighters, wizards, thieves, rangers, etc etc.

they're kind of goofy, almost. a lot of older D&D-adjacent media had them as a joke, or perceived as one - probably the most influential bard character in media is Edward from final fantasy 4, a character whose most memorable ability is that when his health gets low he runs and hides like a coward. not the best look for a class.

so when i set out to design one for tactiquest, these were the design goals and influences i set out to capture:

i think better bard analogues - rather than characters who are explicitly bards and explicitly jokes - are fictional characters who are the emotional heart of their group, the glue that keeps their party together. as the social class, bards should lean into that - this is the power-of-friendship class!

they should be kind of goofy! it's part of the bard identity by this point, and i think it's part of the appeal. not useless, but useful in a way that's more lighthearted or funny than badass.

they're not mages! bards are one of the ways you can play someone close to a normal person who's in over their head on an adventure. you can spec into a few low-level spells if you want, but most of the bard's power is much less flashy.

so here's the end result:

social abilities: tactiquest has no social rules, which is a little bit of a hurdle for a class designed around social interaction - i can't just slap on a big bonus to persuasion checks and call it a day. instead their social abilities change the dynamic of a conversation - you can tease out the emotions of others, learn what social levers a person has for you to leverage, or just undo something stupid you said.

support: because bards tend to take up more session time in social situations, their combat abilities are largely about putting that spotlight on other characters by increasing their effectiveness - the bard themselves doesn't get a ton of "wow, i'm really badass!" moments. most of their combat perks are more about evasion and narrowly escaping danger than actively fighting.

opportune escape lets you be a damsel in distress being rescued by your friends! and also lets you be edward from final fantasy 4. it might be my favorite perk here

another throughline for the support abilities was i wanted them to be the sort of thing that makes the other players go "wow, i'm glad we have this bard around" because that's kinda important for the being-the-emotional-heart-of-the-group thing i wanted them to lean into

#tactiquest #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #bard #fantasy

26 notes · View notes

trentknd · 1 year ago

Note

can you do more trent x reader fluff with like maybe something spicy in the mix

"It's all you, it's all you, Trent." Your voice resonated in a cheerful exclamation through the Anfield hallways when you ran up to him. Before he even had the time to react, your arms had already wrapped around his torso from the back, eagerness coursing through your entire being.

Liverpool had earned yet another victory in a historic treble and your Scouser's assists had a lot to do with it. He turned around to properly greet you, the sole sight of your excitement prompting a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"I'd say it's all you." A smirk finally erupted on his face when he lifted up the lanyard around your neck. "Community managing isn't easy, innit?" He scowled when his teasing was welcomed with a slap on his chest.

When your slap landed on his chest, you grazed the medal shining brightly and almost proudly around his neck. "I can't compete with this, can I?" You rhetorically asked before retracting your fingers from the surface of the metal, scared of tampering with its preciosity.

Your small bubble burst when more players and staff passed by the hallway you were both in. In a cacophony of cheers, handshakes, and whopping, they all congratulated each other and especially Trent for the match they have had. You could clearly see his strained discomfort at being the center of attention at the instant but he secretly relished in the appreciation of his efforts.

You stood back, not wanting to ruin his spotlight and avoiding anyone discovering your relationship. You played off the predicament they had found you in by pretending to take photos for the club's social media and you sheepishly smiled at Robbo when he threw you a suspicious glance.

After a few more minutes of celebratory chants in the hallway adjacent to the locker, you decided it was time for you to leave so he could properly enjoy his victory with the rest of his team. "Wait." You heard Trent's ushered word when he jogged up to you, his mates still engrossed in their celebrations. He wrapped his hand around the skin of your wrist, preventing you from going any further.

In a parallel to your previous interaction, he had lead you to an empty room next to the locker room before you even had the time to react. Your mouth gaped open, unsure of what he was doing when he turned around to lock the door.

You looked around the small room you'd guess was intended for administrative work. A lone wooden table rested in the middle of the space, papers, and pens lathering the surface in what seemed like an organised clutter. Facing the desk was a single chair and a window with a view of the hallways and you were almost grateful that the rectangular window was bedecked by a pair of smart blinds.

"What are we doing here?" You titled your head in puzzlement when you saw the way his eyes attentively scanned the room. Your question was met with a low nonsensical hum as he lead you toward the desk, his fingers still laced around your forearm. With a quick effort, he pushed you up the table so he could stand between your dangling legs.

His hands came up behind your hair, stripping you of the lanyard you were wearing to replace it with the medal that previously sat on his chest. "You easily compete with it." His claim came in a low whisper, serving as an answer to your earlier question.

Your eyes fall on the piece of gold around your neck and back up to meet his stare. A glaze was cast over his eyes when they caught yours, akin to pure and utter admiration.

He eventually leaned down, his lips hovering over yours. His eyes scanned yours, awaiting your consent and you quietly nodded and brought your own lips to connect with his. His hands came up to craddle your face, deepening the kiss and wrapping his fingers around the medal to hold your body flush to his.

You took this opportunity to bring your hands down to the hem of his t-shirt, motioning for him to help you remove it. “They are probably wondering where and why you’re gone.” You mumbled in the kiss, your words contradicting your movements at the moment.

He nodded, his chest heaving “And they’ll probably wonder why you’re not out there taking pictures as well.” He smiled, still not ever leaving the position you were both in. Your reasonings fell on deaf ears as your movements became sloppier, your parts tangling with each other.

His breathing hitched once you removed your top, revealing a lacy bra and the medal still adorning your chest as a sort of necklace. His gaze slightly turned dark at the vision of the gold stuck between your breasts, and you brought your legs around his middle to bring him back to you and out of his trance.

His kisses became sloppier and peppered across your skin, his lips eventually landing on the skin of your neck. A subdued moan escaped your puffy lips when his teeth marked their territory on the zone, your skin slightly bruising at the impact. "Trent..."

"Yes, baby?"

"I need you," Your request was quieted down by his continuous coddling, his hands grasping at any part of your body they could find and his lips still preying on yours. "I'm on the pill."

Your last murmur halted his movements temporarily, his cock slightly twitching at the sole thought of taking you right there on the desk of this random room in Anfield. He selfishly rejoiced at the notion of anyone being able to barge in and finally find you marked as his, his cock buried deep in you.

His gestures became more hurried, careful to remove your last pieces of clothing whilst leaving the medal wrapped around your bruised neck. Your hands came up, in exchange, to bring down his shorts and briefs in one single move, his cock springing out straight against his lower stomach.

Your fingers grazed the tip that was glistening with pre-cum and your hands eventually fell down his length to pump it purposefully. His breath hitched at your sudden jerking motions, his next words coming out in a guttural groan "Spit on it."

Upon seeing your hesitation at his request, he spat on his dick to help you lubricate it and leaned down toward your mouth. "Open." His smirk was short-lived as his spit now landed on your tongue, you immediately swallowing the liquid and smiling up at him in bewilderment.

After sucking off his cock and pulling your mouth out in a loud 'pop', Trent took this as a signal to align himself to your pussy and steady your hips on the desk with his two hands. His strokes were harsh and fast, the sound of his balls hitting the back of your thighs made more evident by the creaking of the wood.

Your entire being was too over-stimulated to react to anything at that moment, even when one of his lands left the comfort of your hip to draw circles on your clit. Your back arched involuntarily, and your head lolled back in bliss.

This sight prompted him to fasten his movements, the tip of his cock almost visible at the surface of your stomach. You were most definitely certain that anyone outside of the room with ears and common sense figured out that Trent was defiling and fucking you out of your mind in that room.

His own moans were quieter, lewder as he felt his own release coming. The last sound of the medal slapping the skin between your breasts sent him overboard as his cum coated your insides.

Before you both even had time to simmer down, Trent's lips once came to a rest next to your ears in an obscene whisper, "Next time, I want you to wear my jersey when I fuck you."

#trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold x reader #footballer x reader #footballer fanfiction #trent alexander arnold x y/n #trent alexander arnold #football imagines #trent alexander x you #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander-arnold

197 notes · View notes

jopetkasi · 8 months ago

Text

Just the same, I am the last to know and realized that I have become the dumbest person on the planet.

i mentioned in passing that the family of my boyfriend appears to be critical of me. they are cordial but then there is this nagging feeling inside that they do not like you, in this case his mom. basta you will feel it eh.

so prior to the holy week, I was invited to their home in BF. it was the mother's birthday and surprisingly I was asked to join them for dinner.

so i went and tried my best to be decent. dinner over and people started to bring out the drinks. until I excused myself to use the comfort room.

while i was relieving myself, i overheard the boyfriend and his brother talk. it was a clear conversation I heard since the restroom had a small window opening and adjacent at their backyard where the two brothers are talking.

"kung papatol ka ulet sa bakla siguraduhin mong me pera yan gaya ni Robbie"

"antay ka lang kuya"

"si mama lagi nalang humihingi ng pera sa akin, nagbibigay ka ba?"

"short pa ako eh, hingi ako ke jopet"

"landiin mo ng matindi sa kama ng bigyan ka"

then their conversation came to an abrupt stop. I guess they realized someone was in the restroom.

Context. the boyfriend's family as far as I know lives a comfortable life (I believe) I was told that his mom is in the pre-need insurance business and sidelines selling MLM products. his dad is a retired office executive while his siblings appear to have careers naman. actually, if we compare my family with his, mine would appear poor because for one, we live frugally and our needs are simple. on the other hand, his family is different. kasi they put on branded clothes, their kids are sent to exclusive schools and if you check their social media pages, they do travel and party a lot. plus, the dad plays golf at the country club. me pagka high maintenance sila.

not their fault. that is their lifestyle.

but then appearances can be deceitful and I will leave it at that.

bothered at what i just heard, i went to see my friend and naglabas ako ng sama ng loob.

"hindi ba tropa ng exboyfriend mo yung boyfriend mo ngayon?"

"so? what's wrong?"

"hindi ba I warned you before about these type of guys?"

"What do you mean?"

"jopet, minsan naniniwala na ako na boba ka talaga. Hind mo ba alam times have changed? more and more straight guys would befriend unsuspecting gay men and make them fall in love only to get money?"

and then i realized na oo nga pala no, yung buong tropa ng ex ko, almost everyone me kabit na bakla kahit me asawa na? akala ko naman na parang the mindset has changed like a Vice Ganda - Ion Perez levels? Pero hindi lahat.

Nakakahiya man to admit pero oo nga ano, i was the one financing everything with my ex and now, I am feeling the same is about to happen with the present.

and i surveyed my gay friends...

Jay keeps a boytoy, a collegiate basketball player...

Dong, is in a relationship with another guy from the same circle of my ex.

Alex is also seeing this married guy and sends the kids to school.

Marlon is fucking with the gym instructor, also from the same barkadahan of my ex.

ano to? parang feeling ko nabudol kami ng mga gangster na mahilig mambiktima ng mga bakla? what gives?

right now magulo yung thought process ko. di ko alam yung gagawin. like kanina nag text si boyfriend and wants to meet. perp para saan? kantot now then solicit money after? anong dahilan na naman? pang repair ng kotse? pambayad sa ganyan? investment?

ewan. sobrang di alam gagawin?

sorry eto nalang talaga yung outlet ko para i release yung nasa loob ko and sorry napa haba.

33 notes · View notes

firstprince-ao3feed · 3 days ago

Text

a streamer and his chat

by keyyring_ (death_blossom) “Foxy! We finally got a game together!” There’s silence across the line and Alex frowns a little. “Come on, you’re literally at every single stream of mine and I kicked your ass the past like 4 times we played against each other. Aren’t you going to put me in my place or something?” His lip curls into a smirk, eyeing the camera and wiggling his eyebrow just for the hell of it. And then there’s a voice. Relatively deep but smooth as silk. British. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Alex swears to god he’s physically pushed out of his chair because he actually falls out of his seat. He can already see chat going wild and he knows that it’s going to get clipped to all hell. Twitter’s going to have a field day with this one. _ or, firstprince and co (minus bea sorry) play overwatch (2) together (this fic can be read as a standalone without chapter 2!!) Words: 4676, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Nora Holleran, June Claremont-Diaz, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Original Characters Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: non-diplomatic au, alternative universe - twitch streamers, alternative universe- streaming and content creation, Alternative Universe - Overwatch, streamer and viewer, they’re Overwatch 2 players, Social Media, Twitter, Twitch - Freeform, socmed fic adjacent, banter and flirting, use of gamer-lingo, chat i think my age is showing, Original Characters - Freeform, Crack Treated Seriously, kind of?, It’s Just Crack, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like me in overwatch, tbh i’m not really sure how to tag this fic, pov acd (for ch1), banter in the form of flirting via https://ift.tt/sQj0VWi

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #keyyring_ (death_blossom)

8 notes · View notes

ventingfanfics · 2 years ago

Text

Make a Move (Scotty x Reader)

Fluff.

After a month and a half of yearning yet shying away from her feelings, Scotty was going to make her move on you.

She was grateful that her Black Women from the Caribbean class ended a few minutes earlier. Not wanting to waste any time, she packed her things and filed out of the classroom.

You were on the floor above her and your class finished at the same time hers usually did: 3:50.

After easing up the staircase, Scotty settled by the window that was positioned at the far left of the hallway. In two minutes, you would walk out room 307.

Scotty used the time (and fresh cool air) to relax and remind herself of why she was doing this in the first place. However, none of that stopped her heart from racing. A glance at her phone revealed that it was 3:50.

Here I go, Scotty thought. Upon looking up, she noticed exchange student Shuri Udaku waiting by the door to 307. She shrugged it off until she noticed you go to Shuri. Big smiles were on your faces. Shuri even took your bag from you so she could hold it instead.

Scotty felt her heart breaking as you and the princess walked down the hall together. Since you were coming towards Scotty’s direction, the two of you locked eyes.

She quickly broke eye contact and reversed, hurrying down that same staircase. She didn’t stop walking until she reached her co-ed room that was in the other building.

“Did you run here?” Her roommate and friend Brendan asked, noting her shallow breaths upon her arrival.

Scotty shook her head and hung up her denim jacket.

“Okay…did you do it?”

Again, Scotty was silent. She tossed her book bag onto the small couch before sitting down and turning on the TV. The scowl on her features was a front for the sadness.

“I take it you did and it didn’t go well,” Brendan said.

“It didn’t.”

“She said no?” Brendan sat down beside her, visibly surprised.

Keeping her eyes on the TV she answered, “No. Some girl was already waiting for her.”

“Who was it?”

“Shuri.”

“The Wakandan?”

Scotty curtly nodded.

“Yikes,” he muttered, causing Scotty to look at him. He rubbed his jaw with his thumb. “It’s just, a lot of girls on campus have it bad for her.”

Scotty continued to sulk ahead. Were you one of those girls?

“Is she a player?” Brendan asked earning a careless shrug.

“I would’t know.”

“I can find out.” He smiled and opened his laptop on the coffee table and took out his phone. While he prepped to do some internet stalking, Scotty ordered food for them.

“Damn, her shit is carefully curated,” Brendan said earning a snort from his roommate. “I mean she is a princess, so I guess it makes sense.”

Scotty looked at her friend again. “I really don’t care to talk about her.”

He nodded in understanding. “All good, don’t worry about it. Wanna help me study until the food gets here?”

“Sure.”

She held up flash cards for him until there was a knock. Scotty checked her phone. “It doesn’t say the food is ready…”

Brendan glanced at her thoughtfully and went to answer the door. His eyebrows lifted at the sight of you. “Hello.”

“Hey,” You greeted with a friendly smile. “Is Scotty here?”

He gave a closed-mouth smile and stepped aside. “Come in.”

Scotty, who had overheard the exchange, was on her feet, as if she’d planned to leave the room.

“Hey Scotty, can we talk?” You breathed out optimistically.

“I’ll be in my room,” Brendan spoke, taking his leave.

You watched as Scotty glared after him. She sat back down. Catching the view of one of Shuri’s social media profiles on Brendan’s laptop, she quickly closed it.

You carefully approached and sat adjacent to her. “So how are you?”

She glanced at you, but mainly peered at the TV. “Okay.”

“I saw you earlier in the hall, but I don’t think you heard me.”

“Oh, probably not.”

“Scotty, are you mad at me?”

“No, why would you think that?” She furled an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know, you’re just acting weird, not like my usual Scotty…”

“Like how?”

“You seem like you don’t want me here. I mean, I can go…but I’d rather know what I did and how to fix it.”

Scotty gazed at you in contemplation.

“Please tell me?”

There was something about you begging that encouraged Scotty. “I, um, wanted to ask you something today, but I saw you with another girl.” She played with her fingers.

“Who, Shuri?” She nodded slowly in the affirmative. “Aw, Scotty, that didn’t mean you couldn’t talk to me.”

“You looked busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

Scotty blushed. This wasn’t the first time you had told her that and it never ceased to fill her with butterflies.

“What were you gonna ask me?” You asked with soft eyes. You watched as she looked at her lap.

“Um…it’s…well…”

She sighed in relief when there was a knock and “Uber eats” announcement at the door. “Sorry, that’s my food.” She stood a bit too eagerly.

You patiently waited. Scotty called out Brendan’s name to let him know the food was there. Once he grabbed his order and a can of grape soda, he was again out of sight.

“Would you like me to get you something?” Scotty offered you, making you inwardly swoon.

“No, it’s okay. I ate before I came.”

“Well, if you change your mind…”

You smiled. “Thank you, baby.” You delighted in Scotty blushing again and the small grin playing on her lips. “Yeah, so, I hope you know I’m not letting you off the hook…”

Scotty chuckled and it was nice to see and hear. She returned to her seat, placing her food on the coffee table. She toyed with the hem of her flannel shirt. “I was going to ask you out.”

She closed her eyes, wishing to disappear because of the silence.

“Like on a date? Or…to be your girlfriend?”

“Both.” Scotty spared a look at you for your reaction. She found you staring at her deeply. Was that a good sign?

You touched her thigh and felt her tense. “Do you still want to ask me?”

There was a hint of a smile as she looked away. “It depends…are you seeing anyone?” She now looked stressed.

“No. Shuri is just a friend.”

Her eyes were on you again, unconvinced.

You shook your head and reached for her hand this time. “I promise we’re just friends, Scotty. She knows I’m already interested in someone.”

“W-Who are you interested in?”

“Take a wild guess.”

Scotty’s quizzical smile was adorable. Before she could speak, you pulled her into a soft kiss. You let your lips linger for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Enough said,” You whispered.

Am I dreaming? Scotty wondered. She grinned and so did you.

“Wow,” she said. It was so genuine you couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, now I’ll ask you. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Yes, a million times yes.”

You cheered. “Woot!”

“And then you’ll see if you wanna be my girlfriend?” Scotty asked hopefully.

You slung an arm around her, speaking lowly into her ear. “To be honest, I already like the sound of that, but let’s see how things go. I’m excited as hell to go on a date with you.”

Scotty beamed. “Me too.” She hesitantly put her hands towards your hips.

“It’s fine to do that.” You held her hands there.

“Aww, how cute,” Brendan said, startling the pair of you.

#scotty banana #shuri x reader #shuri fluff #scotty fluff #scotty x reader #shuri x you #shuri x fem!reader #shuri x y/n #scotty x y/n #scotty fanfiction #scotty imagine #crossover fiction #crossover idea #alternate universe #letitia wright characters

196 notes · View notes

scribe-of-stories · 4 months ago

Text

Get to Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview

Was poked by the wonderful co-writers of Sunset @sunset-a-story and @touloserlautrec. Go read their posts here and here!

On the Tumblr Writing Community

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A short eternity (first post is mid 2022)

What led you to create it? Was very bored at work and wanted to share some recent stories. Also I had never tried social media before, it this looked like the most interesting place to try it.

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community? Getting to see other people's imagination unfiltered. I've read plenty of great works before, but it was definitely an entertaining first to see the author later publicly say "this is my favorite little guy, can't wait till the next time he suffers."

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you? I constantly feel like I'm bothering people and or feel self conscious when talking about me/my stuff, so bare with me hah.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash? Just some really unhinged stuff about y'alls stories. I want to open my phone and see someone discussing the seven major heresies dictated by some cabal of priests only to later realize "oh, this is someone's fever dream, not a history lesson".

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today? Interact more, take up the offer of "open tags" on other people's posts. Also throw your ideas onto the table for other's to look at, we all seem to love just watching someone go off about something they love.

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately? Been in a bit of a writing drought. Lexical is always getting worked on, more so the TTRPG stuff than any story right now though. I've had a few projects pop into my mind and leave over the past while. Have a cluster of characters I can't get out of my head, but no narrative or setting to properly put them into. A god of violence and the man that cut her out of himself, a cultish vampire philosopher and his favorite little guy (little guy has a knife). Surely something will come of this, or they'll continue to just exist in one-off stories in my own head. Amber Hill, specifically The Lawman, is still somewhere in here but it's been struggling to come out for a while. Been trying to find Lars' voice as a POV character.

How long have you been working on them? I've been working on something based in Lexical since mid 2022 (huh, exactly around I first posted here); the other guys are new and only a few months old at most.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started? Lexical is a can of worms. The short answer is that my irl DnD group wanted to play something more free form and creative leaning than what our 5e campaign was allowing, so I said fuck it and started homebrewing a system based in a world I have vague ideas about. The long answer is that Lexical is a sequel to a Pathfinder campaign titled "Demis", which was about fantasy super heroes. It was heavily inspired by My Hero, Worm, and inescapably Homestuck. So when it came time to make a whole new system for these same players I took some concepts that worked in Demis, applied some occult-adjacent philosophy I was/am into, and ended up with my years long passion project. Atem and Sadaf were born out of my growing need to explore violence as a concept, philosophy, and inescapable existential crisis. The Vampire and his thrall Ish spawned out of a desire to have a toxic romance to think about. And AmberHill was inspired by a desire to create something cozy and occulty. Ended up being SCP adjacent but maintained the idea of a small community that cares about itself.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them? Lexical- not enough, I'm lucky I have at least some productive thoughts throughout the day. Atem- too much, his tired ass sat down in my head and I've been too polite to ask him to leave.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say? "Urban Fantasy with science fiction elements"

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)? "My dissertation on the semi-real building blocks of both physical and social reality, also wizards punching people."

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created. We've got the original Lexical boy Samuel Smith, Atem and Sadaf who you've already heard of, Lars DuPont from Amberhill.

Who’s the most unhinged? Sadaf.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write? For whatever reason Samuel's self-loathing PI perspective just comes very natural and is maybe someone I should write more about.

Do you ever cringe at them? Nah

How much control do you feel you have over your characters? Depends, my mind does not wonder so much that I don't feel like I am ever not in control. But who I am able to focus on tends to be a matter of debate.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? Yes absolutely. Characters, worlds, magic systems; I'll rant about any of them given the chance.

On Writeblr Engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? A combination of preferred genre (urban fantasy), shared interest (books/games/table top). Also if they have Scribe as part of their name it's just an auto follow.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle? There's a few. The telepaths from Sunset and their many ways of being terrifying are the first that come to mind. Since I already mentioned the scribes I'll go ahead and tag @scribe-cas , @covenscribe and leave the rest of the tag open. Here is an empty template

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #lexical earth #tag game

8 notes · View notes

moonlit-nightsx · 1 year ago

Text

kiis relationship analysis

disclaimer: this isn't analysis of them in canon, just some thoughts on my own fic Truth or Drink: Exes edition, ft. Isagi Yoichi & Michael Kaiser that got too long to put in the notes lol

The break up scene brings up three issues to light.

For one, Isagi ties his self worth to what the media thinks of him as a player. Nearly all the Blue Lock players like him, so it makes sense for Isagi as a character to essentially be used to being liked. Yet Post-Blue Lock, realistically, Isagi as a player would receive a lot of shit for essentially being born out of a reality show, and it would make sense that he’d be held to a higher standard than other players. And with that, it nearly results in something adjacent to internalized homophobia, thinking that anything and everything would be a threat to his career, including his relationship. Back in the first chapter, during the Truth or Drink segment, he expresses apathy about keeping track of his socials, not even having Twitter. After the four years, it’s clear he no longer ties his self worth to how good of a player the media thinks he is, leaving him more energy to focus on more important things, such as his, cough cough, relationships.

Kaiser’s apathy is another issue. Since he was introduced, he’s always been a cocky character, always needing to seem cool and collected and never “real”. From Isagi’s point of view, seeing Kaiser still be apathetic and uncaring about everything a year into their relationship would wear on him. The issue of Isagi and the article is something important to him, and Kaiser still doesn’t care. After the four years, however, he’s more okay about being vulnerable in front of Isagi, and he’s empathetic enough to worry about whether people were watching, not for his own image, but for Isagi’s.

And finally, Kaiser’s need to be loved. Tying in with the last point, Kaiser tries hard not to care that not many people, including teammates and the media, actually like him, but I really feel like there's no way that wouldn’t grate on someone. And seeing (from Kaiser’s POV) Isagi so blatantly worry about “a few” people critiquing him while nearly everyone else loves him would make him bitter, and honestly a little jealous. During the Truth or Drink Segment, where Kaiser and Isagi have been toeing the line of “what’s okay” for the entire segment, hearing the answer to whether Isagi still loves him would have sent Kaiser over the edge. Which is why, during the reconciliation scene, Isagi stresses how much he does love him.

and thats all folks hope you enjoyed

#kiis #michael kaiser #isagi yoichi #kaisagi #kaisagi analysis #ignore this if u arent from my fic

31 notes · View notes

seeker-ophelia · 17 days ago

Note

I agree with a lot of your points. I’m glad we know how much of a dumpster fire development was because this game hurts. Both good and bad. I obviously don’t know but some of the writing does feel like damage control, things aren’t mentioned but they’re also not denied. Isabella could still be with Hawke and just not have mentioned it. Awkward for sure but still possible. Combined with the DLC statement (tho I hope with the sales and reception EA will reconsider) I think they just wanted to get this out the door before EA full on canceled the game. It does suck, I’m not in denial about that. I want all those cameos and spotlights, (hell where is my girl Merrill? She FIXED a mirror on her own, there’s gotta be something there right?) but I’m hopeful for the next game.

Do you think there will be one? Do you think we’ll get DLC? I don’t think I can take another ten years of this.

Oh an ask! Hi!

I really do think that this game was BioWare fighting against EA, and EA's influence runs heavy through this game. I am so glad this is not a MMORPG or adjacent kinda game.

Do I think we'll get a DLC? Honestly? No. Not unless VG does very very well in sales (i haven't looked at the numbers and don't know what their projections were), and people constantly keep the hype up on social media. I would FROTH AT THE MOUTH to get a 'Keep' DLC, with none of the side quests actually having an impact on the main story, but we get to see & help out our old friends. A DLC where we learn more about the lore and history of the veil and spirits. If I am a new player to the DA franchise in this game, I feel the need to keep the veil up. Its spoken about ad nauseum. But, if you've played Inquisition, you know that its actually the veil that turns spirits to demons (Solas/Cole banter). Yes, there are some demons in the fade, but not as many as the game leads you to believe.

I'm rambling. Do I think we'll get a new game? they certainly set it up that way. I'm not on twitter but apparently devs have said there is plans for it. will it take 10 years? I fucking hope not. Hopefully development on 5 is more streamlined. Keep it an offline RPG. Not pass it through so many hands. Let BioWare cook with it. Let the community council pick apart the lore. But most importantly, is Corrine and Trick need to still care. Caring about something is what makes it great. And if they're burnt out or overworked or have to fight with EA, that's gunna show up in the game.

The scariest thing about Veilguard, for me, is that it didn't suck. I think its a good game in its own right. But its not a DRAGON AGE game. I'm hoping that this is because Trick wanted to make it his own, move away from Gaiders influence, and that they'll listen to fans and make the next game more adult, darker. Meaner (no, killing a dog doesn't make it mean, its just feels like a D&D/GoT way to SuBvErT ExPeCtaTiOns). This is a very esteemed franchise, and VG did drop the ball. Maybe not drop, but, rolled it over somewhere else? In a different direction. Which, again, isn't bad. Its just not Dragon Age.

When we heard about "the three choices" controversy, I posted something, i wonder if I can find it hang on. Bam got it.

The thing is, the Devs HAVE TO. HAVE TO. Care about the game. They have to put their blood sweat and tears into these games to make them fantastic. And I think, right now, they're probably tired. They need a break. And I don't want to rush them into anything, because shit is better if you let them have the time to cook it.

But Fuck I hope we get another Game. I hope the Twitter Trolls and the Youtube Bigots and the Money Grubbing EA Executives stay the fuck out of my Fantasy Dragon Game.

In the meantime, I'm gunna fucking INHALE all the new lore in this game, spoonfed or not, and hopefully we'll get another comic or book before the next game.

#Dragon Age Discussion #Ask Ophelia #Dragon Age Ask #Dragon Age Critical #BioWare Critical #EA Ruins Everything #The Three Choices #Huff that Copium with me Folks!

5 notes · View notes

allthatyouknow · 1 year ago

Text

Revisions and Shameless Promotion

Shameless promotion first:

Hello! It would be a waste not to try to ride what remains of the armored core hype train to say you should check out our radio drama / actual play podcast All That You Know!

It's a sci-fi / cyberpunk story about a war on a distant world, where an Oppressive Utilitarian Government fights against spiritual freedom fighters, and the players are on the Oppressive Government's side! Of course, most of the fighting is done by giant robots.

If that high concept overview sounds even remotely interesting, you should give it a shot! You can find more information here.

Or just look for Calamity Cascade on spotify or any other podcast app.

(Also, if you want to play your own Armored Core adjacent story, I would highly recommend the game we're playing: the award winning Beam Saber, by Austin Ramsay)

REVISIONS:

With that out of the way, I just wanted to say I made some changes to the introduction + episode 0. Mainly cleaning up some audio, and removing the narrative introduction from ep. 0 because it was a bit confusing having it repeated.

In my mind, this will make it a bit more approachable. (But I still regret calling the real first episode, episode .5. bad call on my part, but not an easy fix without shuffling the entire series).

We're well past 600 downloads now, and we are all so happy that you folks are liking the show. I've been pretty bad with promoting this anywhere but tumblr, and I am so glad I've been able to reach people on this platform.

Maybe one day we'll branch out once the dust settles in the social-media sphere. But until then, we're a tumblr show baypy.

#armored core #actual play #beam saber #audio drama #podcast #calamity cascade #ttrpg #actual play podcast #ac6

11 notes · View notes

serve-cunt · 9 months ago

Note

HIIII ZOE ITS MY IRRITATING ASS AGAIN (this is my main blog, I have tennis and f1 sideblogs but don't know how to make the ask come from there, I haven't been on tumblr in FOREVER..)

anyway my little curious gremlin ass has YET MORE QUESTIONS

ALSO I COMPLETELY FORGOT CHALLENGERS WAS COMING OUT, IM SO DAMN EXCITED FOR THAT FUCK YEAH, we LOVE zendaya she's gonna serve (pls laugh) cunt

okay so i think picking out my favourite players will be easier if I relate them back to f1 drivers, makes em seem more familiar, so if I do like a checklist of sorts of driver types, can you match them up to players you think fit the vibe?????

e.g. is there a former champion (lewis/fernando coded) who's looking for a comeback? is there a young talent who's had bad luck but is on the rise (lando) is there a calm, level headed one that everyone thinks will go far (oscar) is there a charming elegant one that social media is obsessed with (charles my babygirl). im assuming djokovic is the max verstappen adjacent, fairly young dude who's smoking everyone, yeah?

just like ugh I LOVE f1 so dearly and i think sporting parallels will help SO much

question: is it a big money sport like f1? Obviously anyone can pick up a racket and hit a ball, but is it very expensive and exclusive to make it into the big leagues? you mentioned smth in the fic about oscar adding up the whole cost of going pro, would that be a huge problem for poorer families?

are there any player pairings with vaguely homosexual vibes? again with the damn f1 parallels but adjacent to max/charles, carlos/lando, even lewis/nico if I dare mention brocedes, because I just absolutely live for speculation of silly little goofy athletes' relationships with each other

here's where I get REAL shallow but fuckin sue me, WHICH ARE THE PRETTY ONES I CAN SIMP OVER. i am bi so that doubles the market, but basically which are the ones that i can watch edits of and get all giggly and blush over, in your opinion and in the general tennis community's opinion.

whats andy murray's deal? Is he retired? Is he like the sebastian vettel of tennis?

how dramatic is it compared to f1? we all know that f1 is gossip girl on wheels... is tennis gossip girl running around a court or is it less drama-fueled?

not a question but I'm so excited to see which f1 drivers turn up to Wimbledon this year like, CROSSOVER EPISODE YEAAAA

is djokovic the max-esque guy where it's like "okay I don't mind you, you're cool, but god DAMNIT, stop being so good, let my other favourite little meow meows have a CHANCE for once"

how worldwide is it? are players mostly European/Aussie like f1 or is it more widespread?

is the meme game good? i LIVE for online hilarity in sports, are there any iconic tennis moments/memes a la "it's near a fish" "smoooth operator" "bwoah" etc etc whatever

really gotta stop talking about f1 in terms of tennis but it's the only other sport I'm really into IM SORRY FORGIVE ME

which are the "sad wet cat" (dearly beloved) players? you mentioned one guy but there's gotta be more than one right??? I always get attached to athletes with those vibes

IM SO SORRY ABOUT THE CONSTANT QUESTIONING BUT YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON I TRUST TO GIVE ME CORRECT INFO RN BECAUSE YOU REALLY SEEM LIKE YOU KNOW YOUR SHIT

finally a HUGE FUCKING THANK YOU???? For putting up with my idiot ass mostly, and your fic is singlehandedly making me wander into the tennis world despite knowing literally nothing and you're helping my understanding SO much, youre about to drag me down this sport's rabbit hole just by existing. tennisblr seems like such a fun adorable place im SO excited to start watching stuff, you're a legend and ilysm <3333

you are literally NEvEr irritating you are the best thing to happen to my inbox every time, sorry i was so slow on this one!! I had a very hard time relating f1 drivers to tennis players lmaoooo so in the end i just skipped that part!! I'm so sorry!!! it's just so hard because the narrative of f1 drivers is so specific and intrinsically tied to TEAM and to their teammates, and to the tragedy of a good car and/or the wonder of a great car ... the betrayal of contract negotiation & silly season etc.... tennis just doesn't really have that!! all the narratives are more player v. self and player v. world, instead of driver v. driver and driver v. fate. if that makes sense??

so yeah. sorry 😭😭 it's also possible that I just don't have enough imagination and somebody can jump in to help with that .... anyway, moving right along to

"is tennis a big money sport"

GOD yes. tennis is soooooo expensive, it takes approx 1 billion dollars to pay for lessons, court time, coaching, travel, accommodation, gear, etc etc. :// You get paid if you win. let me say that again: you get paid if you WIN. there aren't salaries! early in your career, you are HEMORRHAGING money, esp if you have a coach. the travel is fricken expensive all by itself!! and if you're paying a coach as well you're either in debt or you're playing with house money if you catch my drift. (tennis players often come from wealth, much like f1 drivers — they can also be sponsored, sometimes by their country, but usually only if & while they're successful!!)

if you do well, you start to win, maybe you make money, more likely you're breaking even for a while (or even still losing). if you do REALLY well, then you're looking at more prize money and maybe sponsors, so then you can start making some real money out of this. but yeah it's CRAaaaaaazy how much money tennis players pay to play tennis lol!! it is 10000% a problem for getting underprivileged kids into tennis, there's a reason tennis is so white!

"are there any player pairings w vaguely homosexual vibes"

LOLLLL look i never turn down a chance to push the sincaraz agenda but also, carlos alcaraz does that for me!!!!

they're so cute damn

also getting into sinner/berrettini …

but honestly, besides that?? f1 is way better for pairings because we watch them interact with each other off track WAYY more. you barely see tennis players interact with each other! i have been emailing the respective tennis associations about this (jk but I should). MORE GOOFY VIDEOS WITH PLAYERS DOING STUPID GAMES (with each other, crucially)

"which are the hot ones"

ooohh this is suuuper subjective but i am soOOOoo into coco gauff, she's gorg, also iga sviatek in red, also daria kasatkina, also maria sakkari really does it for me, also katie boulter is so cute.

hot damn

on the atp side oBVI jannik, carlitos is so cute but he looks so young i feel like he's less hot and more adorable, caspar ruud looks like ryan gosling as you have pointed out, ben shelton is gorgeous (and cocky in a way that unfortunately does compel me, oops), arthur fils!! beautiful. tennis players are all hot, in my mind??? they're so …. well rounded …. 😏😏😏

"which are the "sad wet cat" players"

andrey rublev my beloved sad cat

muchova (not really a sad wet cat but tragically always broken in some way)

daniil medvedev but if the cat was cunty

"whats andy murray's deal?"

oh my GOD murray!! my love my husband my father my holy ghost!! a tragedy a triumph …. a player in the era of the Big Three (Djokovic, Federer, Nadal) and therefore destined to be remembered as "oh, and andy murray" … or "one of the big four" (the big four is not a thing unless you're talking about andy murray lmao) ... a great player, one of the greatest, a slugger, a workhorse, had one of the cleanest backhands of all time, and the classiest guy in tennis … see: andy murray shutting down sexist reporters on multiple occasions ....

youtube

He's not retired !! he's still going, here he is recently losing:

He's actually (possibly) playing at this upcoming Challenger Tour event! as are a number of interesting players. the reason that this is interesting is that Challenger level tournaments are a level below the ATP Tour, so you don't often have this many recognizable (to me, anyway) names playing at this level!

[side note: the movie Challengers — the name is a play on the Challengers tour. they're playing a Challengers match in the movie, but also "challenging" each other for zendaya … you get it]

Anyway this tournament should be interesting … andy murray is getting older but he's not ready to quit!! he's gone on the record saying there are things he's still trying to accomplish before he retires, and he's playing well in practices it's just not translating to matches yet. he's also said if his body tells him to retire he will, but uhh. he's got a literal metal hip so clearly he's not QUITE ready to listen to his body.....

"is he the seb of tennis" HMMMM this is an interesting question, I wouldn't really class him this way — seb is like a silly little sexy fruity goblin (if I'm reading his vibe correctly — I'm late to f1) and andy is a stoic public school kid with a goofy streak … if that makes sense …

"how dramatic is tennis compared to f1?"

ALSO INTERESTING I think that's sort of relative to how much you care about individual players, I think game-play is pretty dramatic at times but nobody's ever in danger of bursting into flame??? so in that sense not as dramatic as vroom vroom sport lmaoo but there is a bit of temper tantrum throwing, and then important wins (see: Alcaraz Wimbledon 2023) are SO dramatic in the best way…

gossip-wise I don't think it's as dramatic as f1!! there's deffo tennis gossip but I think, again, because there aren't teams, the drama is less wrapped up in "betrayal" narratives yknow??? like ferrari ditching sainz for lewis was dramatic in so many different ways, not LEAST because of the betrayal of carlos. I feel like tennis is less set up for that, bc it's every player for themselves

"is djokovic the max-esque guy where it's like "okay I don't mind you, you're cool, but god DAMNIT, stop being so good, let my other favourite little meow meows have a CHANCE for once"

YES EXACTLY i cut in your whole q because that's exactly right!! so so so apt imo .. howEVERRR it was less correct when federer and nadal were still around and at their best, because those three really did make up the Big Three, capital B capital T, and they had such a good dynamic going between the trio — it was less one-note when djokovic had a constant fight on his hands... now djokovic is older and slowing down so we're getting into a sunset period, which is interesting because he's still doing GREATTT (and I wish he would stop, give my meow meows a chance etc) but everyone sees the light at the end of the tunnel re: a djokovic retirement. whereas I think people are looking at the max ascendancy and saying "GULP" bc we all want our favorite boys to win at least one WDC (cough lando cough cough osc)

"how worldwide is it?"

fairrrrly? but yes europeans heavvvvily represented, americans as well to some extent, asia and australia to some extent — not so stark as f1, but def same bougie euro vibes lmao

"is the meme game good?"

again fairrrrrly but def not to the same extent!! less of a "here are the memes everyone knows" and more in the spirit of, like, if you're following a few players & the major tournaments, tennis tumblr/twitter is fun to be on … trying to think of a "classic" tennis meme and I can't which isn't a good sign lmaooo .. jannik puking in a bin and then going on the biggest win streak of his career is a pretty good meme in my mind though ...

CROSSOVER EP YAAHHHHHHHH I CANNOT WAIT WE BETTER GET SO MANY GOOD WIMBLEDON PHOTOS AJHFDLAKSJFHDKLASJFH

sorry again to be so slow !! this was fun to go through as soon as I stopped tearing my hair out trying to make player: driver comparisons but again, maybe I'm just not creative enough ..

xx ily :))))))

#TENNIS AGAIN #ask #ivy tag #tennis 101

6 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 years ago

Text

Free speech absolutists are like the cocky audience of a spectator sport – they think they could do better than the players, if they were just allowed a crack at it. To them, speech should be as free as possible, period. Nowhere is their oversimplification of the issue more evident than on social media, where abuse and disinformation have created a new frontier of regulation – and with it a cohort of disingenuous free speech warriors.

These absolutists are so unaccustomed to facing consequences for their actions that they have pushed the idea that a censoring “woke” orthodoxy now prevails, and is a threat to freedom of expression. Elon Musk is among them, but since his takeover of Twitter he is having to learn quickly that free speech is not simply about saying whatever you want, unchecked, but about negotiating complicated compromises.

Musk arrived at Twitter with an approach that I am sure he thinks is pretty straightforward. The site, he believes, has a leftwing bias that should be corrected by allowing suspended users back on to the platform. The accounts of Donald Trump, Kanye West and Jordan Peterson have been reinstated, along with nearly all those that were suspended for falling foul of old Twitter’s rules on abuse and hate speech.

This means that Twitter is about to turn into a far more unpleasant and potentially dangerous experience. Little of this appears to have anything to do with a political strategy on Musk’s part. Like Trump, Musk has become the tribune of fascists and racists by way of adolescent contrarianism, an insatiable need to flaunt his control and a radicalising inability to cope with being told he’s wrong on the internet. For him, “free speech” seems merely a vehicle for his delusional plan to make Twitter into a fawning “digital town square” that he presides over.

But not even the richest man in the world can pull that sort of free speech arena off. Twitter isn’t sustained by previously suspended users, but by the millions of people for whom the platform feels (most of the time) like a political and cultural slipstream. Twitter has an odd social media profile. It is both extremely influential and also often quite trivial, and the coexistence of the two is what makes the site viable. Twitter is a window into the soul of politicians and opinion-makers – its style of interactive rolling commentary works well in drawing them out to post their views or engage with others, revealing personalities and politics that otherwise would be surpressed or closely edited. And it is the first resort of citizen journalists and those marshalling political protest. It also remains the only social media platform where people with little clout or profile can challenge elites directly.

But Twitter is also a solipsistic place, where even small users can become protagonists in spats that are then amplified both by the site’s algorithms and a rightwing media that trawls it for telltale signs of “wokeness” or “cancel culture”. For better or worse, it is Twitter’s adjacency to current affairs and general political and cultural discourse that makes it, uniquely among platforms, feel relevant.

If you’re not on Twitter, chances are that you have come across stories that started out or were precipitated there, whether it’s a debate on trans rights that swirls around JK Rowling’s tweets, or calls to organise street protests against dictators in the Arab world. For all these things to be possible on the same site, robust content moderation is necessary to ensure conversations don’t descend into doxing (maliciously publishing someone’s personal information) and hateful conduct, and that news and journalism is verifiable. In the absence of moderation, or at least the appearance of it, things fall apart pretty quickly. When a place is not fun or hospitable or truthful to users, it also becomes commercially pointless for advertisers. Since Musk took over, half of Twitter’s top 100 advertisers are reported to have left the site. If things continue as they are, it is hard to see a future for the company.

The ultimate cause of that demise will be the failure of Musk to understand that for some speech to be free, other speech has to be limited. It is generally true that if a service is free then it is by definition exploitative of its users – if you are not paying for a product, the axiom goes, then you are the product. But in the case of social media, the regulation of your speech is the product. If a platform becomes too toxic, then it is useless for anyone except those who want an extremist ghetto of agitators. In that sense, social media is very much like society in general. Political and legal authorities are in the business of content moderation, in order to make our shared space as stable and safe as possible for a majority of people. The public and other stakeholders, such as the press, businesses and social media companies themselves, are in constant negotiations with these authorities on what those limits should be – for instance, whether religious dress is protected speech, or what constitutes incitement to violence.

Old Twitter was far from perfect, and by its own admission its algorithms favoured rightwing accounts. But it was improving because of the drag that advertisers, regulators and users were putting on its algorithmic urge to encourage antagonistic activity. The high-speed destabilisation of Musk’s Twittershould be a warning to free speech absolutists. The set of curbs they object to are those that make users’ experience of social media, and life in general, possible; they protect against, among other jeopardies, libel, impersonation, plagiarism, misinformation and grooming. In essence, all our free speech arguments are about finessing, rather than obliterating a system of functional restrictions.

Those with power have more leeway to define what free speech is, but they can rarely do so without limitation. Twitter’s chance of survival is dependent on whether Musk chooses to accept that, like freedom of speech, his power is not absolute.

14 notes · View notes