#really fucking ugly design really fucking terrible keyboard

[foxstens]

why is there no laptop for ME

[miekasa]

I’m in love with the idea of twitch streamer bf eren

OKAY ME TOO!! Easily top 3 best Eren concepts imo it’s just so good and so... him, he falls on the gamer himbo boyfriend side of the scale for sure

Let’s start with his setup: purple and/or green with a dark wood tabletop. He keeps the lights green during the day or when his computer is idle, and mixes in the purple when it’s dark out because he likes the Ambiance. 

Only one monitor and do not let him buy another one no matter how much he claims he needs it. He does not. He has a TV in his room tho, but it’s not mounted above or near his desk; it’s on the opposite wall that faces his bed. Laying down and watching Netflix takes priority.  

He’s a sucker for themed keyboards/keycaps. If he finds a set themed around his favorite show or a character he likes, he’ll buy it. No self control.

The majority of his keyboards have that super clacky almost officey sounding click to them, and he’s obsessed with it. Sometimes he fucks around on Google Docs typing nonsense just to hear the keyboard make noise.

Puts in special keycaps on the ones with your initials on whichever keyboard he’s using at the moment <3 gamer boyfriend things <33

Always swears he wants to do some kind of special event or thank you for subscriber/follower milestones, but he never catches his own milestones 😭😭 by the time he realizes he has 100k subs, he’s already on 103k or something 

Then he calls you, his friends, and his subscribers fake for not pointing it out to him like sir it’s right there on your screen please. All you had to do was LOOK

If he’s in the middle of a game and he really has a to pee, or he’s gotta go do something, he’ll yell for you, and you come in, obviously slightly worried, but then Eren is just hurriedly giving you instructions, “Here, press left or right to move, spacebar to fire, avoid these, kill those. That ugly look thing to the left is Jean, and over there is his character. You’re teammates, I’ll be right back,” before he puts his headphones on your head and runs off. Now you’re left to fend for yourself, good luck.

He can be gone anywhere from 30 seconds to 30 minutes 😭😭 if he’s gone for a short amount of time, he comes back with just as much chaotic energy to take back his headphones and shoo you away as he did to throw it all on you pls.

Other times, he’ll go and make a whole ass meal and come back sauntering in with a half eaten grilled cheese in hand, “Oh shit are you still playing, babe—hey you’re doing really well, look at you go!”

When you’re not there, he mentions you a lot, because he’s always thinking about you no matter how small it is; even just the design of a character would prompt him to a make a comment, “I don’t think my girlfriend has ever played this, but I know she’d main this character.” 

Does he invite you to play a game he knows you’ve never played or are bad at with him on his stream, knowing full well he’s an ace at it and will crush you publicly? Absolutely. Without a doubt. 

There’s always a very shameless, not at all subtle shoutout to his Instagram in the middle of all his streams please, he’ll be playing a game and randomly it’s like, “Fire pic on Instagam by the way, go like that.” 

His comments are pretty respectful whenever you’re there or he mentions you; there’s a few cheeky randoms who like to make donations whenever you’re on the screen or say some inappropriate stuff, but Eren’s learned to just ignore it. It doesn’t make him happy, and he might tell people to chill if it’s excessive, but he won’t call out anything explicitly and make you uncomfortable while you’re there. 

Sometimes Connie will make a comment about how you’re hot, and that’s definitely something Eren will call out and bring attention to, more so to mock Connie than anything. 

At one point, his subscribers keep asking for more content with you (especially if you’re not there often/it’s been a while since people have seen a peek of you), to which Eren will pout because, “Hey, this is my Twitch-- now, look, you’ve gotten your Eren’s hot girlfriend privileges revoked for the week.”

Terrible at doing unboxing videos whenever he gets sent product because he just rips things open 😭😭 he’s too eager to do ASMR or gentle/detailed unboxing, he just wants to test out the new parts as soon as possible. 

Abuses his spinny gamer chair. Spins himself dizzy on it (yes, while he’s streaming and waiting for lobbies/things to load), spins you dizzy on it when you’re just trying to be comfy, spins the both of you dizzy when he’s trapped you on his lap. 

He’d be one of those lucky people who gets a cool single name user/ID. Like he gets just @eren or @jaeger/yeager, because his name is pretty unique, but I can totally see him going the typical fun gamer tag route. 

His content is anything from him streaming Overwatch and COD to terraforming his Animal Crossing island, he does not discriminate. One day you could get Eren calling Jean a fucking dumbass for not healing him, and the next day he’s doing his best impressions of Timmy and Tommy.

Do not put it past him to build you a whole ass PC setup if you express the slightest interest in one, even if it’s not solely for gaming/you wanna use it for work/school. He’ll do it. He’ll make his hyperfixating work for him. 

Plus then he’d get to give you one of his old keyboards and give you special keycaps with his initials and go on about how he’s officially got a gamer gf even if all you can do is press the spacebar <33 

[seven-oomen]

Hi, Ben!  Hope you had a good day, and are finally getting some rest!  So, did you know there are sites that let you design your own ugly Christmas sweaters?  May I present the one that Peter’s husbands get him for a party?  Except then the jokes on them because he won’t stop wearing it EVERYWHERE (at least I hope the image shows?  It saved in a different format on the site I used for this.)  Also, if you were ever to actually make a shirt of it, I would suggest an image from the reaction GIF you used for the alignment/meta anon.  Because, my god, that smirk.  XD  (Also, they are totally right.  And it is hilarious to me that the two officers of the law are firmly [and accurately] on the neutral side of that axis.  XD )

And I’m still screaming over that latest preview.  He just wants cuddles and ear scritches, Noah!  The saliva will dry, he’s just showing his appreciation for your support.  XD  And oh, yeah I knew he would eventually get better, it was more me trying to decide how quickly I was hoping for it to happen.  My “I want it asap because I hate seeing them in pain” side was warring with my “but nightmare creature cuddles would be adorbs, tho?” side (and they are).  :D  Also, terrible thought brought on by working at my job too long: since I don’t think that form has a tail like a wolf (I don’t really remember noticing one, at least?), do you think that since he can’t wag, he starts doing the wiggle-butt thing like boxers and pits tend to do?  (sorry, the thought occurred to me and I couldn’t make it stop.  XD )

Also, how dare you put the image of Noah and Chris cuddling in the window seat watching the snow fall while the listen to Peter singing ‘Hallelujah’ as he finishes the dishes, in my head?  Or them sitting at the table having coffee and joining him for the choruses?  Or Chris singing along with Tony Bennett or Harry Connick Jr on the local Christmas station?  Or Noah singing along with Chris Cornell’s version of Ave Maria (or doing a damn good impression at least [song is available on Spotify, btw, if you’ve not heard it])?  My body was not meant to hold this level of feral screaming, dude.  XD

For the undecided alignment (that don’t involve spoilers), I would vote LN for Danny and CG for John.  No specific reasons, that’s just what feels right at the moment.  And I’m curious if Noah and the kids have been in the vault at all, because Malia would be able to access it.

And, yes, I am all for mutual body positivity support among the boys.  I remember watching some BTS thing a few years back, and Linden said something about how everyone was “running around without their shirts on, and I just feel kinda old and jiggly”, and my very first thought was “Oh, please.  You may not be I’ve-had-nothing-but-chicken-for-a-week-and-haven’t-had-liquids-in-three-days ripped like the other guys, but in no way will you ever convince me you are actually out of shape in the slightest."  Also, I’m just picturing a scene where Noah accidentally(/on purpose…?) looms over Chris, who just has this moment of "oh, yeah, that’s right, you’re tall now” immediately followed by “well, I am learning a number of new things about myself right now"  XD  On a related note, how do you think he feels about dip kisses after realizing this?  Although, I do hope Noah does not sweep Chris off his feet in quite the same way Chris keeps doing to him.  XD

On an unrelated note, that post about Artoo and Luke about killed me dead.  XD  Artoo’s propensity for shenanigans and Luke’s pervading issues with impulse control is just a complete recipe for hilarious disaster and total ride-or-die besties.  It also reminded me of the post about how Rogue One leads into New Hope and Leia straight up lying right to her dad’s face.  Which, while hysterical, also makes me think about how many posts I see about how Leia is very much her father’s daughter, but almost never see any that point out how much Luke is his mother’s son.  I just have a LOT OF FEELINGS about this, okay?  But I will contain that rant.  XD  (Star Wars has been an on-again-off-again love for me since I was 9.  It’s pretty much a guaranteed way to get an emotional response out of me.  XD )

And I’m glad Mo doesn’t bother the tree or anything, though the box thing is pretty funny.  But he does seem to have that very cat-like tendency to want to completely block you from accessing the keyboard or pin you in place because he’s laying on you and you don’t want to disturb him, so I think he’s catting just fine.  XD  I mean, I have some friends who one of their cats is immune to scruffing (the downside of this is that he’s also almost completely feral still [he was a stray that stayed], and at one point he got a UTI and needed antibiotics.  I’m pretty sure my friend had to get like a falconing glove or something to get his pills in him.  XD )

That America being huge vs Europe being old thing also made me laugh because there was the section about the "long bus ride” that was like two hours, and all I could think about was how often we drove four hours both ways to visit my grandparents, and how in high school we took a trip to Canada, and I don’t remember the exact length of the bus ride up, but I know it was between twenty-three and twenty-eight hours.

And I hope you’re enjoying the Spiderman game, or will when you get to it!  As best I recall, everyone I know who has played it has had nothing but good things to say about it.  And wow, I’m rambling again.  Oh well.  Anyway, hope you’re doing well, and sending lots of good energy for finishing the chapter to your satisfaction (I know the readers certainly don’t mind the longer chapters.  :D )  Take care!  *Hugs!*

Oh my god I am absolutely in love with that sweater. Why is this not a thing XD 

And yeah, they definitely gift Peter a sweater like that, lbr. No other way about it. It definitely backfires when Peter wears it every single year and to everywhere. Including PT meetings and the parent/school board meetings? I forgot the American word for it, in Dutch we call it ouderraad. I know we talked about them before where Peter starts a war with the ‘Karen’ and completely wrecks her. And how all the other moms fall in love with the three DILFS.

But yeah, wears it everywhere and every year XD. 

Noah’s deputies, including Jordan, have definitely snapped pictures and post them on every computer desktop in the station. Including pictures of Noah’s reaction faces of that sweater.

Because you cannot convince me, that a bunch of cops, would not be dicks about this.

Chris is infinitely grateful that he does not have coworkers like that.

And god that is rather good smirk to go with that line XD. And yeah I guess it is funny. But it’s also true and that’s wow... XD 

I did a character alignment test for Peter and came out on CN so that is what I’m going to stick with in any itteration for him. 

As for the wiggle butt thing, he does not have a tail and I already had a very lengthy inner discussion with myself before getting this ask and I can tell you, he does wiggle butt like a boxer in this form. Imagine a fucking beast like that just wiggle butting with happiness. The image is so bizarre that I had to include it in the full moon chapter.

Chris is definitely learning a number of things about himself when he figures out Noah can now loom over him and press him against walls. Also Chris has a thing for being bound or pressed against objects and when Noah figures that one out, well, let’s say Peter certainly doesn’t mind watching those moments.

There’s also a revelation when Chris says; I can easily get out of these handcuffs and Noah translates it too; Good, that means that as long as you don’t try to, you’re consenting to whatever I’m doing to you. Deal? To which Chris, enthusiastically agrees. It’s a very fun game. Peter disagrees because they tend to lock him out during the games with some ash, although he is invited back in after they’re done and then the attention of two Omegas is fully on him. So I suppose he doesn’t mind too much.

Something that is both funny and sweet though is that through Ben, Noah discovers how much he misses having little kids running around. And he has a few moments of; oh god I want another kid realizations in this chapter.

Of course, considering their situation this isn’t the time and Noah more than realizes that. But it gets conversations about the future going for all three of them.

Oh and to answer your question, Malia has not been to the vault, but she and her siblings will get to see it. If that’s with dad or with Derek I haven’t decided yet. But they will end up at the vault in this story. Gotta get Peter’s necklace back.

So far I’ve had a bit of a rough day but by answering this and focusing on headcanons, and that freaking sweater!!!!, I feel a bit better. So thank you my friend, this helped me a lot <3. 

And I agree, Leia is just like her father but Luke is all Padme and people don’t talk about that enough. <3

Lots of Love from me and Mo!

[lovesickjily]

Cuffed

Summary: Lily wonders, as she stares at the messy-haired man currently handcuffed to her bedpost, if this bizarre situation could be considered as kidnapping.

FFN or AO3

inspired by a dream that i literally forget the events to lol

If she were to be asked how the heck she got into this situation, Lily supposed that it all started with an email. One, simple little mistake of an email.

Who even used emails nowadays? Texting was a completely acceptable alternative, and unless one wanted to send a lengthy message, or, in some cases a virus to those that they hated, emails were extremely unnecessary. Of course, Lily was completely biased, because she’d had literally no problem with sending them until today, when she’d gotten an email from James Potter.

Tall, dark, and handsome, with hair so wild that it just exudes sex vibes, and god, not to mention those lovely honey-colored eyes of his framed behind dark glasses that brought more attention towards his pretty face, it was no surprise that Lily didn’t at all have a problem with the man, not when he looked like that. She’d open up anything from him, an email being just one of such, and  it seemed friendly enough, saying:

Hello, Lily!

I’m James Potter, if you don’t know me, and I’m attaching a rough draft from what I’ve got so far concerning this month’s issue. Sorry that it’s not our usual friend Frank that’s doing it, but I hope I can meet your expectations as his fellow graphic designer. Have a good day!

Best regards, James.

P.S. Please be as critical as you can. I strive for perfection, which I think I can only achieve if you point out everything that you hate about it.

He was quite endearing, really, being one to skip the professionalism and getting straight to the point. She’d never met the man before, but she had quite a good idea of his personality through the email, and she quite liked those people whose personalities shone through their writing.

She decided to leave the attachment to look at later, having far more enough on her plate and trying to balance her other tasks, and, because she quite liked to take a break, she opened out her other email from Mary, switching to her personal email quickly. Though on opposite ends of the city for work— but across the hall when it came to flats—, they still found time in their lives to send each other strange things that only they would find funny as far as best friends went.

Today, apparently, was ugly picture day.

Mary had at first attached a photo of herself from their high school days, captioning it with ‘at least I got prettier. goddamn,’ to which Lily responded with her own high school photo, and Mary responded by telling her to ‘sit the fuck down. you’ve always been pretty.’ Lily didn’t entertain to her thought, knowing that her best friend would only accuse her of being a narcissist, even if for good reason.

The email chains were quite hilarious, and sometimes, she’d find herself scrolling all the way to the beginning of it all to read again on slow days. She looked around the room, and upon seeing that Dumbledore was strolling merrily along with her computer in his line of vision, she quickly clicked back to her personal email, pulling up James’s email to show that she was ‘working.’

When he’d walked away, seeming to have taken his good old time like the view of the boring gray office was enough to admire, she pulled open the camera on the computer, and, because it was an unspoken rule for all computer webcams, the quality was quite terrible, but that was fine, she supposed, as it would only enhance the unflattering aspect that she hoped this photo of her would achieve. She contorted her face together, quite unattractively, she’d say, and pulled her chin towards her neck to achieve that desired double-chin look, snapping four pictures of her in different poses before nodding in content. It was Mary that was going to receive the photos, and what kind of best friend would she be if she didn’t receive terrible pictures of her on the daily? They’d created a photo album solely for each other’s faces, Mary having named Lily’s ‘Wank Bank,’ which she supposed fully explained their friendship.

She was quick to send the email, and the computer made a small chime to indicate that it had been sent, before returning back to work, for real this time. She’d only begun typing away at the computer when she heard a sound from her emails, and usually, she’d ignore it, but there was this sinking feeling of some sort that had growing within her since she’d sent those faces of hers, that she’d—

Oh my god.

No.

No, no, no.

She’d sent the email to the wrong person.

There, instead of Mary’s usually peppered responses, was a new email from James Potter, who she would have coined as a bloke who was not afraid to double email in times of clarification, had it not been for the fact that the email was part of a thread, meaning that she’d sent something back to him.

Her mortification at the mere fact that she sent it to him of all people grew at least a million times.

She was reminded of one of those scenes in the movies, the ones where the idiotic main character, who had a passion for seeking out the supernatural rather than running away, found herself walking towards a room with a stick in her hand as she knew full well that she was about to be sliced apart by an unknown force. Yes, that was her, only the impending doom that she felt bubbling inside of herself was due to the fact that she already knew what she’d done, that she was fully aware of the fact that she was about to be face a gruesome murder by the hands of embarrassment.

And there it was, like a colorful banner spread across the drab walls of the room, was an email from James saying:

Thank you for the acknowledgement? I don’t know what the appropriate response is, because saying anything else would mark me as unprofessional. Nice pictures, by the way. I’m fairly certain that’s the most I could say.

Best regards, James.

She didn’t know whether to slam her head against the keyboard or against the screen, but she supposed that the screen was the better option, seeing as she might accidentally send another wrong email again. Computer shortcuts were both a blessing and a curse, after all. She sighed, composing another email to explain herself, but no, that wouldn’t do at all. She needed to properly apologize, and a simple little email would not do it.

Dear James,

I’m so sorry regarding the last email I sent you. I swear it wasn’t at all intended towards you, and as much as I’d like to write about a million paragraphs to properly convey my remorse, I’m sure we’ve loads to do in our 9-5 jobs. Please, let me make it up to you. I’ll prepare a special dinner for both of us, and we can discuss the original email concerning the graphics, among other things, of course. Does Friday at 7 work for you?

Sincerely, Lily.

He responded nearly immediately, and she wondered if he was slacking off like she was or he was just quick to reply to everything.

Dear Lily,

That will do very well.

Best regards, James.

P.S. I sincerely wish I could be more informal in my emails.

The knock at the door came just when she’d deemed the meal finished in the oven.

She agreed that she might have done it a bit too much, having changed out of her blouse into a low-cut top that made her tits look really nice, and she’d applied three layers of mascara and a nice, cherry-red lipstick, because even if it wasn’t a date, James Potter was still gorgeous. She’d like to at least look presentable after he’d seen terrible photos of her face.

She answered the door and was greeted by him, his eyes raking over her body, which was just the effect she wished for, because maybe that was enough to make up for the fact that he’d seen her at an angle she wished no one but Mary could ever see her in. She was fairly certain that she looked the same, unsubtly admiring his body, his strong arms being displayed with the black tee that he was wearing, and his hazel eyes looked so much prettier with him being a mere foot away from her.

“Hey,” he breathed, and she gave him a small smile.

“Hi. Come inside,” she gestured, and he responded with an easy smile, his eyes taking in the view of her apartment. “The food’s still in the oven. You should seat yourself, and I’ll prepare everything.”

“Is this a restaurant, Lily? Only I think it’s only fair if I help you.”

His voice was quite lovely, and she internally beat herself up for wondering how it’d sound with him atop of her, but she quickly shook the thought out of her head, smiling sweetly up at him. “No, I insist. You’re my guest, aren’t you?”

“As a guest, I consider it quite rude of me to let you do all the work.”

“As the host, I consider it quite rude of me to make you do some work.”

“If I’m eating here, I think I should at least assist you.”

“Yes. You can help me by sitting your pretty bum down and wait. Besides, I’ve already set the table, so unless you’d like both of us to carry out the Shepherd’s Pie together, please make yourself acquainted with a dinner seat.”

He stared at her incredulously, and she wondered if he was contemplating whether or not he should actually carry it out with her, but then he smirked in defeat, making a great deal of emphasis of sitting down. “You’re more clever than I thought.”

“Did you have low expectations, then?” she responded, grabbing a pair of oven mitts, but she didn’t pull open the oven just yet, turning to gauge his reaction.

“Nah. My expectations of you were already up here.” He made a gesture of raising his hand above his head to demonstrate where she would be on his invisible scale. “But now, they’re right about here.” He reached up as high as he possibly could while sitting to the point that the bottom of his shirt lifted, revealing the abs that had unfortunately been obscured behind the tee, and if she followed that trail of hairs, god.

Not now, Lily. There was a time and place for everything, but now was most definitely not the time for dirty, perverse thoughts.

She focused her eyes on the oven instead, carefully taking out the Shepherds Pie and placing it down on the table gently. He made a sound of content, saying, “Smells delish.”

“I’d rather hope it did,” she replied easily, and she picked up her utensils, baring them in her hands as they did in the movies to demonstrate just how excited she was to eat. The Shepherds Pie, of course, not the man sitting across from her, though he looked just as delicious, maybe even more.

They dove right in, Lily allowing James to cut the first piece for himself, and they talked about the graphics for the magazine that they worked for, the information not being all that important for right now, though she did tuck away everything they exchanged with one another for later. It was really easy to talk to him, and she quite liked talking to him, because it wasn’t just the sound of his voice, but the way he could make conversation out of anything.

The little Tardis-themed salt and pepper shakers that she had lying atop of the table? He was quick to make a remark about that, and it was well worth the 20 quid that she paid for them if just for him to compliment them. It spurred into a well-heated debate. Could you believe? An argument concerning salt and pepper shakers?

Time seemed to fly by fast when she was talking to him too, and she wondered where had he been all this time she had been bored out of her mind in her office, knowing that if she knew just have amazing of a time she’d have with him, she’d bloody talk to him all day. The office hours would definitely pass by much more quickly. She voiced that thought to him, and he looked so bloody pleased with himself that she’d say it again if it meant that he would give her that same quirky smile of his.

And with time, she was quite concerned with how quick it had taken for her to develop feelings for him, and it was quite discombobulating how fast her heart speed up when he did smile, which appeared after just about every one of her little comments and retorts. And god, when his eyes raked over her, even if it might have been just because of how daring she had been with her fashion choices, it made the butterflies in her stomach fly at full force, like they were speeding up her heart rate solely by flapping.

The next thing she knew, the tray was empty, a signal that he was going to leave soon, and the fact of the matter was that she didn’t want him to go yet. She wanted him to stay, and she didn’t mean for the entire night, though she wasn’t at all partial to that idea, but long enough for her to get to know him more.

They’d sipped a bit of wine as they ate, and though she was far from drunk, she had just about enough of that liquid courage, standing up just as he stood up, presumably to leave for the night. “It was really nice to formally meet you, Lil—”

“Do you want to have a look around?”

His eyebrows drew up in surprise, and she honestly didn’t even blame him, as she literally just strung that question out at him, but then he gave her a small smile, nodding. “Sure. I’d love to have a look around Casa de la Evans.”

Her own lips drew upwards. “Well, don’t let me stop you. I’ll be behind you, in case you accidentally— or purposely— break something.”

“Is that so?” he asked teasingly, “Or do you want me to be your tour guide?”

“I lied. It’s your explanation that’s correct. I actually don’t know my way around the flat at all.”

“After this tour, you’ll know every inch of it by heart,” he replied, and he made a wide sweeping motion with his arms, “This is the dining room.”

“Evidently,” she smiled.

He whirled around to the living room and pointed, simply stating ‘living room.’ He was being the absolute cutest, but she wanted him in her bedroom, having concocted quite the plan, and she followed him down the small hallway, opening the first door. Upon the sight of the toilet and shower, he turned to her, a small cock of his eyebrow, saying, “This is the bathroom, where you get rid of your waste and then clean evidence of said waste.”

“That’s the strangest way to put it.”

“It was either that, or something concerning shit.”

She quirked her lips up at him, wondering how he could make talk about the bathroom sound endearing, and they walked out, closing the door behind them as they made their way to the adjacent bedroom. “Here is thy fair maiden’s bedroom, where she slumbers and retreats for the night.”

“Have a look around,” she replied, dropping their faux tourist act, and she watched as he eyes skimmed over the room, stopping prompt at—

Oh god. She’d left her bra out in the open, lying right near her bedpost, and there was nothing wrong about a bloke seeing her bra, seeing as she’d been the one who’d invited him in the first place, not to mention the fact that she had tits, meaning that it was a dead giveaway that she’d wear said products. Of course she’d have bras, but still, it was a bit embarrassing for it to be out in the open like that, because if she wanted him to see her bra, it’d be on her very chest, ready for him to remove.

“I’m sorry about that,” she told him, plucking it from the ground and stuffing it into her drawer.

“Don’t be. Was just surprised is all.”

He was looking at the pictures she’d framed on her bedside table now, and it contained a drawer, filled with miscellaneous things, like some candles, a few documents, and a pair of—

Could she?

Yes, she could, there was no doubt about it.

Should she?

Well.

No, but one only had just the one life to live.

She did the next action out of a whim.

She opened up the drawer, pulling out the pair of handcuffs that she’d bought out of pure boredom one day and looped them around his hand, not even trying with both of them because that would have been a hassle, and he’d undoubtedly catch on quickly and resist. She secured it around him and put the other cuff around her bedpost, glad that it locked in place once she’d shut it.

His reaction was priceless. His eyes were widened, only just taking in the event when she’d finished her work, and his eyes shifted from his hand and then towards her, looking to be in sheer disbelief. “Lily, what the fuck are you doing?”

That was a good question.

What was she doing?

She was more rational than this, she thought, and she scoured her brain for an excuse, as telling him that she wanted him to stay made her sound creepy. He waited for an answer, not at all looking mad, when she remembered what had caused this apology dinner in the first place. “We need to talk.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “We’ve been talking for the past hour.”

“Yes, but I mean…” she trailed off, biting her lip softly as she desperately hoped that he caught what she was referring to, even though she didn’t at all want to bring it up.

His eyes widened at her, and he reached out with his other hand, placing it on her shoulder. “Listen, Lily. You don’t have to worry about it. I’m not going to report you to HR, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

“I— thank you,” she replied, her cheeks flushing red, and she felt the color on her throat, “I don’t know why I did that, to be honest. I suppose it’s my idea of a joke.”

“The handcuffs or the email?”

“The handcuffs,” she answered, “The emails was directed to a friend, so that was completely intentionally. I— I’ll unlock you right now.”

She avoided his eye, the embarrassment of the situation fully creeping up on her now, and she dug around in her drawer in an attempt to look for it, but it was nowhere to be found. She checked under the candles, atop the documents, even going as far as reaching all the way back and pressing her fingers against the very edge of the drawer, hoping that it was there. No luck.

Oh, great. She’d done it now.

She had completely, unintentionally handcuffed someone to her bed, wondering if she’d broken any laws because of her own foolishness, because of something that was meant to be funny. “Lily?”

“I’m so sorry,” she nearly whispered, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this predicament that they were in, “I can’t seem to find the key anywhere.”

His lips curled up, evidently amused by her despite the fact that he was literally locked up in her room at his own mercy. “Lily, it’s honestly fine.”

“It’s not,” she insisted, “I— Here, I’ll make it up to you. What’s your favourite song? I’ll play it for you, and I— I’ll massage you! I’m sure working in an office all day has put some sort of strain on your back. Please, sit down.”

He made a half-arsed attempt at sitting on the bed, looking quite awkward with one hand held up in the air, and she started thinking of other circumstances where he’d look that way, circumstances that would ultimately end up with both his arms handcuffed with her atop of him— sans any clothing of course. She burst that bubble, because again, now was not the time.

“Lily, you don’t have to do anything. I—”

“No, you’re going to shut your pretty mouth up and let me give you a massage.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at her but raised his other hand up in defeat, to which he promptly made a motion of zipping his mouth shut. She climbed up on the bed behind him, and as she tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders, she was reminded of how akin this was to the intro of an adult film, with mediocre acting at best and the scene escalating quickly.

The only difference being, however, was that there would be no shagging, as far as Lily was concerned.

She kneaded his shoulder, just once, when he turned his head back to look at her, winding his free arm around her neck and pulling her beside him. She stared at him in shock, her heart beating at the speed of a race horse, but she didn’t budge, knowing that his grip on her would keep her in place. “You didn’t really think that I’d let you give me a massage, did you?”

“Well, you’ve no other choice, considering the fact that you’ve nowhere else to go. At least let me massage your wrist when you break free.”

“Break free? Am I your prisoner now?” he joked.

“Please don’t say that, because it makes me feel like I kidnapped you.”

“And you haven’t?”

“No, actually, believe it or not, my plan to seduce you did not involve a case of Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Seduce me, did you say?”

“Yes,” she affirmed, because there was no point in beating around the bushes. He had eyes, and he had to know that she dolled herself up to impress him, if she could judge by the way his eyes had lingered on her person the entire time they’d had dinner together.

“Can I be honest with you, then?”

“Are you implying that you’ve been lying to me this entire time?” she teased, and he smiled at her.

“Sort of, yeah,” he replied, and he turned his gaze away from her, though his hand, which had been looped around her back, wound its way towards her own hand, intertwining them together. “This might be a little embarrassing, but the reason why I reached out to you instead of Frank like he usually did was because I asked him for the switch. I, er, I sort of, really wanted to get to know you better? I really do like you, Lily.”

His confession was like music to her ears, a symphony that she wanted to hear for practically the rest of her life, but he wasn’t going to get her that easily. She was going to take advantage of this situation, because maybe, maybe she’d attempted to assert her dominance like the powerful woman that she hoped that she was, and she was not going to let him make her feel like putty when he was the one who was handcuffed to her bed.

Maybe, she begrudgingly admitted, she was a bit drunk from the wine, but she was still very much in control of her thoughts, or at least for the most part she was.

She shot up from the bed, pulling James’s arm off of her, and she stood in front of him, leaning down so that they were face-to-face, or face-to-chest. “And what are you going to do about it, James Potter?”

“I dunno, really,” he breathed, and she noticed that his eyes were trained on her lips rather than her chest, most likely because he wanted to be a bit more of a gentleman, “The current course of action is to accidentally email you some pictures of myself.”

Her cheeks flared up. “They were meant for my best friend.”

He cocked his head to the side like the smarmy idiot that he was. He was supposed to be defenceless in this situation, not getting the upper hand from it. “Really? That’s quite tragic. Could you make that face in the email for me right now, then? It’s quite cute.”

“It was not.”

“It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulled out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and flipping to his camera roll, revealing that he’d gone as far as saving the pictures. “See? Bloody adorable, you are.”

She didn’t at all think she looked adorable in those photos, the camera catching her worst angles, and they brought shame to her nice pictures, the ones she’d taken in pretty lighting with a proper smile, not an overly-exaggerated pout. Out of all the emails that she could have sent to him, why that one? She’d sent Mary loads of nice photos of her, so why couldn’t James be the recipient of those photos instead of what she’d actually sent to him? “Why aren’t you mad?”

“Why would I be mad? Because you handcuffed me to a bed because you accidentally emailed me something?”

It sounded even worse coming out of his mouth, and she visibly flinched. “That’s precisely why.”

“I figure if it meant that I get to talk to you more, there’s virtually nothing wrong with it.”

James Potter. Charming. Gorgeous. Smooth.

She was undeserving.

“I’m going to look for the key again,” she said instead, and she turned around, pulling up her other drawers in case the key had somehow wounded its way in another part of her room, but she just didn’t quite get it. She’d never even touched the key, never even used the handcuffs, so just how did the key go missing? Perhaps she’d dropped it one time when she took out a candle, not knowing that it was attached to it. Yes, that had to be it.

“Need a little help over there?”

“Yes, actually, but seeing as the only person who could assist me is unable to move from his fixed spot near my bed, I’m afraid this is a one-woman expedition.”

“I’ll support your expedition. I’ll be a one-man cheerleader.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Is that an excuse to throw compliments at me?”

“How else am I supposed to stress how gorgeous you are?”

“Then what am I supposed to do about you? I can’t very well cheer you on for sitting there and being pretty.”

“I disagree. There’s something called multitasking, you see.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate. Give me some time to look for the key, and I’ll cheer you on in other ways.”

She heard him take in a shuddering breath, and she felt her lips curving upwards. She beat him at his own little game, despite having absolutely no idea what she meant by ‘other ways.’

She expected that she’d turned her entire bedroom upside down looking for the bloody key, and James, having stayed true to his word, cheered her on the entire 21 minutes that she’d spent searching, his words including, but not being limited to, a compliment of some sort, each one getting more and creative than the last, or was it less creative? She didn’t know. She surely wasn’t going to be picky about the compliments if he was so willing to give them to her in the first place.

But 21 minutes were put to waste, and the only difference between that time span and now was that her room was significantly messier than before. Even worse, she still hadn’t found the bloody key.

Would she have handcuffed the gorgeous bespectacled man to her bed had she known that she’d be unable to find that key?

Probably, probably not.

Who knew?

The fact of the matter was that she didn’t have the key, and there was no use in dwelling the possible outcomes that she could possibly be experiencing had she not locked him up. He’d probably be at home right now, and she’d definitely be lying on her bed contemplating how much she should have handcuffed him.

She just couldn’t win.

He was standing up again, probably due to the strain that the cuffs might have made to his wrists when he was sitting down, and he was nearly beginning to throw another compliment at her, she could tell. His compliments weren’t even simple ones that anyone could throw at her if they saw her walking down the street. No, James Potter seemed to be studying her— had to be— because no one could give her one glance and say something like— Oh.

Speaking of a compliment. “You know that feeling when you study your arse off for a test and you end up failing it anyway?”

“Yes?” She really hoped that he wasn’t going to tell her that looking at her gave him that same feeling, because what a blow that would have been, especially after this night that they had.

“Well, I reckon the sight of you is enough to forget that I fucking failed because then I’ll feel like I’m winning.” Ah. There he goes.

“But then—”

“Nope,” he cut her off, “I fucking won.”

“Have you?” she asked, moving towards him, his words giving her further courage as her fingers skimmed across his chest, “Have you really?”

“Yeah,” he let out, and she noticed the way he’d swallowed when he looked at her, his eyes growing slightly darker at the sight of her. Her fingers traced the outline of his jaw, admiring the curve of it, and she was completely aware of how frantic her heart was at the small distance between them, but she wouldn’t let that deter her. She drew her lips up close to him, and he watched carefully, and she allowed a small kiss to the corner of his lip, just barely tasting it, before easing her way towards his ear as she slightly slid her lips over his skin.

She stopped at his ear, whispering, “No, I don’t think you have.”

And with that, she pulled away, grinning victoriously when her actions had the desired effect on him.

Lily Jane Evans. Smart. Pretty. Confident.

“Fuck, Lily.”

“Maybe later,” she replied coyishly, adding, “I’m not going to do anything to you when you’re helpless.”

“I’m not bloody helpless,” he insisted, and he waved his free hand in the air, “If I wanted to, I’d have pushed you off of me.”

“The Stockholm Syndrome has gotten to you, apparently,” she joked, and he rolled his eyes at her halfheartedly.

“What will it take? More compliments? I don’t think I’ve ever had to pay someone with compliments.”

“Credit card transactions work just as fine,” she replied easily, “Only I’d feel awful if you actually paid me money.”

He smiled. “You know, if it wasn’t unprofessional, I would have gone on for hours about how bloody gorgeous you are after you sent me photos of your face. It took about fifty tries, I’d wager, before I finally came up with an email that didn’t imply that I thought you were pretty.”

She blinked, staring at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Nah.”

“Why would you—”

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

She scoured his eyes, his pretty, golden eyes that seemed to glitter as he stared back, for any signs that he might have been deceiving her in any sort of way, but all she saw was solemnity and, if she was correct, some adoration, like she hung the stars. And if she did hang the stars if his eyes bore the truth, then they were dangling in his eyes, shining brightly.

His hand flew up to cup her face gently, and he parted her lips open before leaning in as much as he possibly could, stopping a few centimeters short from her face. “Could I kiss you?”

A man who acted from consent. Lovely. “And ruin my lipstick?”

“Funny, I thought you wore it for me.”

“Funny, because then you’d be correct,” she replied, and the next thing she knew, her lips were on his, savouring the sensation as the feeling in her heart skyrocketed, and who knew James Potter could be so good at kissing with only one hand? His hand flew from her chin and down towards her waist, playing with the bottom of her shirt but not advancing any further.

She hoped that when she pulled away, there would be red staining his lips, because that meant that they’d done a great job of smearing it off. On the flip side, she didn’t want to know, because that meant that they’d stopped kissing, and oh god could she please stay like this forever?

It was almost as if her lips were made to fit against his, like their molds completely complemented one another in the sense that if one were to be made, the other had to be as well. He tugged slightly at her bottom lip before pressing one last light kiss on her, pulling away sweetly as he reached his forehead against hers.

“That was— wow,” she said, and she couldn’t at all help the smile that grew on her lips as he mirrored her actions, a light chuckle falling from his lips.

“Wow?”

“More than wow, actually.”

“I’d hope so,” he responded, “There’s hardly any lipstick left on your lips.”

She gently poked his mouth, a nice cherry colour now from their ministrations. “And there’s loads on yours.”

“Does it make me look pretty?”

“Very,” she nodded, and his smile grew more.

He brought her arms around his neck, saying in a quieter undertone, “I have something to tell you. Don’t be mad?”

“I’m the one who handcuffed you to the bed. I don’t think I’ll get mad.”

“All right,” he said, “Come here.”

“I’m right here.”

“Closer,” he elaborated, and he used his hand to bring her towards him so that she was flush against his chest, “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“I promise.”

“Pinky swear on it.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him but intertwined their pinkies together, smiling. “Will you tell me now? I’m getting quite antsy over what you’ve got to say.”

He paused, quite possibly for dramatic effect more than anything else, and—

“I’ve had the key in my pocket this entire time.”

She pulled away from him quickly, his eyes widened. “You what?”

“Oi,” he said, bringing her back towards him, “You promised you wouldn’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, “Only that I didn’t expect— oh my god. You— When?”

“It doesn’t take that long for a bloke to notice that he’s about to get handcuffed to a bed, so I swiped the key from the drawer when you weren’t looking.”

“Oh my god,” she repeated, her voice filled with exasperation and amusement, “All this time I thought I lost the key.”

“Nah, it’s been right here all along,” he replied, patting the pocket in his trousers.

“Why’d you do it?” she asked him.

“Isn’t it obvious? I reckon it would have been the funnier approach by playing along with you. Was quite cute of you, I’d say.”

“That’s why you weren’t mad.”

“Wouldn’t have been mad if I didn’t steal it. Do you want to do the honours of releasing me?”

“Will you report me to the authorities for kidnapping?”

“Nah. I’ll report you for stealing instead.”

“Stealing?”

“My heart,” he quipped, and her lips curved upwards, watching as he took the key out of his pocket as he’d said and placing it into the lock on the handcuff, turning it and watching in satisfaction as it opened with a click. He threw it to the side, cupping her face gingerly with both his hands this time. “But, I’ll let it slide just this once.”

“Just this time?”

“And every time after.”

With that, he pressed his lips against hers, and she responded eagerly.

An email and a handcuff were quite possibly the strangest combination in getting two people together, but if she were to contemplate it later, she’d agree that it was all very well worth it.

[ailexdecidua]

Horrible-fateful-story-of-fateful horrible-fate time

 [SPOILERS FOR HEART OF THORNS STORY]

So way back when I first start playing gw2, I make my first character Ailex Decidua, a sylvari engie. as I’m going through the PS for the first time accompanied by my friend & mmo-mentor Bean I get to the part where you have to wield Caladbolg to kill that lich. Being a baby pistol engie and used to ranging everything, I did not take to caladbolg’s slow and cumbersome skills, and spent the whole story instance roasting it and calling it stupid names. When the instance was finally over I felt like, god, finally, I hope I NEVER have to see that freaking sword EVER again. To my relief caladbolg leaves me well enough alone, only coming up in conversation every once in a while to the tune of “heh, remember caladbolg? man that sword sucked. glad I only had to use it that once. lmao”

anyway. Later of course comes CLORE ISLAND and I meet trahearne (bean: ”you met trahearne already don’t you remember? earlier in your story” me: “no? Idon’t remember that? also his face is freaky looking?”) and I’m all set to begin roasting him as well, because bean warned me about his controversial position in the story. However at some point, some checkpoint bugs and the scenario stalls, and as I’m yakkety-saxing around looking for a solution I notice that trahearne has been repeating the same phrase to me, over and over

and that’s the moment I fell in love.

From that point on trahearne could do no wrong in my eyes. Every behavioral programming anomaly, every incorrectly looped idle animation, every melodramatic line delivered as dry as a saltine cracker, only served to deepen my admiration for this beautiful, brave, broken (most of the time, literally, broken) ugly tree man who probably smells. I’d given myself away completely to being a supporting character in his story, even if just so I could continue to hear as many of his endearing badly-timed/tonally-inappropriate combat interjections as possible. HOWEVER when he was bequeathed Caladbolg, my bane, I had to laugh at that like “haha you both are terrible and unhelpful, you deserve eachother. But seriously keep that thing away from me”

so fast forward again a few years, HoT is about to come out and I’m bouncing like hot damn I can’t wait to rescue trahearne in the jungle and then marry him and live in a knothole and raise jungle quaggans(?) and swing around on vines together forever while mordremoth eats everyone else on the planet. After LA is rebuilt I notice that some of the NPCs use the same voice actor as trahearne so I think wooOOHOO? that means trahearne will have speaking roles in HoT. Ailex’s Happily Ever After: Confirmed.

[HoT spoilers below the cut]

and then HoT drops and I’m playing the story and I’m like well... no trahearne yet... none here either.. hmm. But I’m having fun and having some feels, and then comes that VERY STARTLING cutscene all of a sudden where trahearne is rapidly RIPPED IN HALF about 1000000 TIMES while SCREAMING,  RIGHT BEFORE MY VERY EYES, and yeah I was definitely on mic with bean and my sister at that point and I might have only been able to wail in confusion and distress, and.. yeah I guess I don’t have much thought on that beyond “wow I don’t really want to have much thought on that”

so ok, at least I know where he is and that we gonna go rescue him, and that he is mary-sue levels of mentally fortitudious or w/e so he should hold up just fine until we get there. party basically elects me as Designated Talking Head for all cutscenes from here on out as HoT story morphs into the tale of Ailex scouring the jungle to save his lost soulmate.

And then we finally get to the final story instance. We make a night of it, invite other GILG members and we’re all on discord having a fun time. We get to the room where trahearne is and of course I’m beside myself but then quickly devolve back into memeing on him because that’s just how we show our love. I notice caladbolg is off at the side of the room, broken. I have a smug laff at it before going in and beating up mordremoth’s ego. all goes well. I’m excited to see how this wraps up.

So. It doesn’t go how I imagined it would. it doesn’t NEARLY go how I imagined it would.

Trahearne tells me mordremoth isn’t quite dead. That the dragon is using him as a vessel. That ultimately he can’t be saved.

And I whisper softly, no.

And he tells me to go find the broken caladbolg.

And I scream into discord, NO.

NO!! NOOO! NOOOO even as I’m walking across the room and picking up that DAMN SWORD! THAT DAMN CALADBOLG!!!! THAT THORN IN MY SIDE I SWORE I’D NEVER EVER TAKE IN HAND EVER AGAIN, THAT I THOUGHT I COULD JUST PAWN OFF ONTO TRAHEARNE BC HE IS AN NPC AND WON’T BE AFFECTED BY THE SUPREME SUCKINESS THAT CALADBOLG IS MADE OF. THE STRONGEST MARY-SUE-EST MOST IMPORTANT MAN IN ALL OF TYRIA NPC WHOM I THOUGHT ETERNALLY PROTECTED BY PLOT ARMOR BY VIRTUE OF ACCIDENTALLY BEING TOO GOOD AT PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING HE TRIES TO DO. and not only do they make me walk over and grab it, they make me walk back over to trahearne and PRESS BUTTONS ON MY KEYBOARD TO MAKE IT HAPPEN. ~*~I~*~ have to be the one to EQUIP CALADBOLG and use it to destroy my ONE TRUE LOVE’S LIFE

AND WHAT

DO I GET OUT OF THIS

A

FUCKING

CALADBOLG SWORD SKIN

THAT I CAN’T EVEN USE BECAUSE I’M AN ENGIE

---AND A BROKEN HEART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok that’s the end of my story. thanks for reading. pray I’m allowed into heaven after all this hilarious jackassery I put myself through over this video game character