#she tells me to check with the gm

[mossdeep]

hi can someone tell me if i'm in the right on this its driving my autistic brain crazy

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,��� he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend��I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER THIRTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch

warnings this one is pretty sad ngl, some internal realizations, angst

kalena speakss 🪽! don’t jump me i swear things are happier next chapter lmao

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

I’m happy.

The phrase plays over and over in my head like a mantra, like I'm trying to convince myself more than I am everyone else.

Music blares loudly at the Sparks gala, some fancy art museum that was all done up to make our coach and our GM look good, and to make the hundreds of rich donors in the building give money to the organization.

It’s working though, apparently a new practice facility is on the way.

It’s my first Gala, which means Brit dressed me in a fancy pinstriped suit: white button up, black tie. My hair, freshly dyed, falls straight over my shoulders. Some silver chains layered on my neck, studs in my ears.

I look good.

And in a room full of women, I should be taking advantage of the opportunity. But I’m not even sure I want to with the way Maraye is all I can think about.

I think it’s been, scratch that, it's literally been the longest five days of my life. I’ve sent so many texts that my thumbs are swollen, and checked my phone at all hours of the night that my eyes were burning. 

She runs through my head during all hours of the day. And if I had a chance to talk to her just once I think everything would be fine.

So you can imagine how quick my neutral expression just flips when I see her. Maraye, in a beautiful floor length navy gown. Her hair done up in a side part, a golden cuff tracing her ear. The tattoo that trails down her neck to her shoulder is even more visible by the way her hair drapes over her shoulder.

I knew she was here, her attendance being part of the reason I dressed up and made my way here. She was all I needed to see. Not all the investors that wanted to talk to the number one pick, or anyone else who wanted me to be Paige Bueckers the basketball player.

I needed to see her. The one who made me feel like I was just me.

"Either y'all say something to each other or move on, P." Cameron snickers as she watches my attempt to just go through the motions. "You have all these girls here and you’re not paying ‘em any mind."

Raye had just finished up a conversation with Coach Roberts. Which makes the smallest change to my expression because there she was, smiling and laughing with my head coach and I can’t help but to wonder if they’re talking about me. If just a little bit of that bright smile of hers is at the mention of my name.

"Better watch out, that girl over there with her mouth watering." Dearica jokes as she points to whoever the hell is making her way over to Raye with her hand on Raye’s arm. 

A blonde. Hair shorter than mine and she herself is probably shorter than me too. 

I can’t even see her face, but I bet she’s smiling, telling her some corny joke because it makes Raye giggle, and now I’m angry. There’s no way it could be that funny.

I feel wrong. Out of place in a room where, in the least cocky sounding way possible, I literally commanded attention.

But none of it matters, because I stand here, letting my teammates ridicule me over something they know nothing about, while wanting to insert myself into whatever she and Maraye were discussing.

Even more than that, me and her had our own private matters to discuss. There were too many words left unsaid to bring to the surface.

I couldn’t let it all go to waste without talking to her. That’s it. I let it go for five days, but any longer and I was sure that there’d be no more fixing it.

“Okay, I was just kidding but— oh my God you have feelings for her.” Cameron chuckles, and from the corner of my eye I see her jaw drop a little.

“Cam, just shut up for a second.”

I think about when I went to dinner with Nika, and the most important thing that sets in my head while I’m shamelessly staring is when she asked if there was anything holding me back.

Then, I said yes. That the thing was holding me back from Raye was my career.

But now, I feel like an idiot because the real thing holding me back was myself. My shitty relationship skills and my very obvious commitment issues when it came to having feelings for someone.

In what felt like milliseconds, my feet were moving faster than my brain and I was almost in reach of her when my eyes connected with Raye’s. 

I can’t read her face. If she’s still hurt or if she wants to find a way to hit me with a car. It’s just blank. Which in my opinion is ten times worse than her giving me a reaction. There is none. 

I do, however, pick up on this; the pure amusement when a girl approached me.

I remember her. Tanned skin and curls that framed her face. One of the few girls I’ve had a one night stand with after getting drafted. 

"Paige, hey!” She grins, her hand resting on my forearm.

I couldn't help but look past her to see Raye’s response. It was clear that she didn't look pleased, turning away to listen to whatever was being said by other blondie. 

I had to make a decision and it was literally my future vs. my very embarrassing past. I just know that letting this conversation continue for even a second longer, was a second that would make Raye hate me more than I think she already does. 

"Sorry, if you'll excuse me." I mutter without another thought, not even taking a second look at the woman in front of me, choosing to continue my path to her.

Raye looks at me shocked. Her eyes went wider and her serious expression faltered just slightly.

I don’t even speak, just inserting myself in the space between the fellow blonde and the woman I hoped to take home tonight. Which might be just a bit forward, but I decided then that I didn’t even care.

"Buckets, good to see you!" The blonde greets me, a smile on her face as she senses nothing ill behind my appearance and shakes my hand.

My eyes don’t even look down to her for more than a second, physically stuck to the beauty in front of me. 

"Mind if I cut in and speak to Maraye real quick?"

Raye raises her brow before placing her empty glass down. A cup of what I assume had to be a lemon drop. 

Her hand presses to that girl's shoulder, smiling much to my irritation. But luckily she ends the conversation there, hopefully keeping it that way for the rest of the night.

Then she’s walking off in front of me, and my legs are moving all too fast to catch up to her. I end up following her out the gala hall and down the hallway, past some stairs, and then she stops. Turing on her Jimmy Choo heels to look at me with her arms crossed.

When I was laying in bed or sitting on my couch, the words I needed to say came easy. Having her stand in front of me though, makes it so much fucking harder. 

“You don’t get to do this.”

“Ra—”

“Breaking up my conversation? What, Paige. What could you possibly have to say to me right now?” She asks me.

It’s a good question. I don’t know what I should tell her. Sorry isn’t going to cut it, not with her. I know better than to even try it again. 

“Raye, we just need to talk. That’s it. It’s been five days.”

“And I don’t think that’s long enough! I spent seven days thinking about you and you spent seven days avoiding telling me the truth.” She bites. “I’m not ready. Let me be ready.”

And just as fast as I got her alone, she’s pushing off her heels and walking past me, so quick that I don’t even get the chance to reach for her. To hold her back and tell her everything that I’m feeling.

That— the inability to speak to the only person that I really want to be around— that hurts more than anything else I think I’ve ever felt in my life.

So I lied. I’m not happy.

I’m very fucking miserable.

—

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

It’s hard to explain the feeling.

When I was in her house— Paige trying her hardest to keep me there, within reach— my mind was racing. When we stood face to face at the gala the other night and Paige was looking at me with all the hurt so obvious in her eyes, my heart almost stopped completely.

But now that it’s been over a week since I found out, I think the closest thing to describe all this is numb. I’m numb to it all.

Every time something comes along that reminds me of her— a pretty blonde on the tv, a tweet about the sparks, anything fucking purple— I don’t get upset nor do I cry, I just sit there. Like I'm doing now.

Cassie sits soundly next to me on the couch, I’ve decided that I really needed some older sister love tonight. My head rests on her shoulder, a plate of banana pudding in my lap that reminds me too much of Paige and the first night I really got to know her.

It’s all too emotional. The way Cassie runs her hands through my hair or rubs my shoulder without asking questions. Add on the romance movie on the screen.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, 10 Things I Hate About You plays on my TV, and watching Kat Stratford read her poem makes the tears flow from my eyes nearly as hard as they did last week.

“Ra—no, don’t cry! It’s okay.” Cassie immediately attempts to comfort me, but my eyes aren’t even glued to the screen anymore.

They stare up at the ceiling, as if looking at the white expanse would stop them from falling.

It doesn’t. 

It just gives me the perfect background to picture me and her. All of the late night FaceTimes. I can see the screen of my Mac, or my phone, and I can see her in the center of it. I can hear that laugh, loud and so uniquely Paige. 

All the late night drives, the chipotle runs, the waffle house breakfasts. Everything I’ve ever done with her just consumes me. 

Cassie’s palm spreads over my check, attempting to wipe what’s left of the streaks on my face. It’s almost second nature to her, taking care of me.

“Okay I wasn’t gonna mention Paige, but now you’re crying over a movie we’ve seen thousands of times.” She starts tugging me into her and rubbing my back gently. “Talk to me Chuchi.” She pouts and I laugh at the nickname I probably haven’t heard since I was like 12 years old.

I’ve done a good job at keeping this whole Paige thing under wraps. Nobody knew what was going on between us anyway, and I don’t think we really knew what was going on either until it was being stripped away.

But it was stupid of me to think my sister wouldn’t pick up on the signs. I used to find every excuse to bring Paige up in conversation, and now I haven’t talked about her for a week. 

“Is it supposed to hurt this bad?” I ask. “Cause if it is, I swear I’m never getting involved with another woman again.” I sniff, wiping my eyes languidly.

“If it does, that just means you really like her.” Cassie explains. It’s so soft. Like saying anything else, anything real, would break me apart into a million pieces. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

I do. So, I do.

I tell her everything, she’s my sister of course. I leave out nothing, telling her everything I felt when Paige first tumbled into us at the game. To the dinner party, which makes me cry some more over the banana pudding.

Each memory replays in my head like a vivid movie scene. The way Paige kissed me: always skillful but still a bit hesitant like she was trying to learn me, learn my tells and what makes me smile. And as I speak I can still feel her lips and her hands, smell her cologne so vividly that I swear it’s probably lingering on my hoodie right now.

I can so clearly recall everything that went down in her apartment. How fucking happy I was behind that door and how my smile only grew when she opened it and I got to see her again. After days of yearning for her. 

After days of wanting her and thinking of her and needing her.

How she touched me that day. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her about how Julian and I were done. But she still touched me so intimately. Like she already knew. 

Her hands on my thighs and mine playing with that blonde hair on the nape of her neck. Blue eyes staring into mine like she’d die if she looked away.

Paige had that way of making you think you were the only person in the world. The only person she wanted or cared for, just by looking into your eyes.

And I fell victim to it.

I remember every single word she said to me that day. I also remember every single word I said to her.

Which doesn’t really help when you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not in the wrong. That walking out was a good decision.

The way her voice raised when she got defensive, telling me I didn’t “get to be upset”. Then the way it immediately contrasted when she apologized. That subtle crack of her voice replayed in my mind over and over like a skipping record. 

I’ve only ever been cheated on once in my life. I was young, in high school, in a relationship that lasted a few years.

And that one hurt. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep.

It did make for some good music.

But this. This whatever with Paige feels ten times worse.

I swear I can feel each pulse and throb of my heart in my chest. Each mention of her name causes a few stray, dramatic tears to pool at my waterline.

By the time I finish telling Cassie everything, my nose is already puffy and reddened. I think I’ve stopped crying now, but I'm not sure because my cheeks are still wet. Tissues pile in my lap and some new romance movie plays on the screen. 

I didn’t know how much I was holding back until now. Until it was all laid out in front of me and my sister.

“You gotta talk to her, Raye.” She shrugs. I know I do. But thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things.

I look at her wearily. My tongue is poking at the corner of my lips as I think. “I dunno if I’m ready yet, Cas.” I mumble, my voice low. Almost embarrassed.

“I know.” She comforts, running her finger over my knee. “But maybe hearing her out is gonna make things clearer for you. Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.”

I let that sink in. Replaying her words in my head until they stick. 

Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.

— 

July 2025 ��� Seattle, Washington  

The ball passed through the net consistently. Swish after swish as if I had a point to make or something to prove. 

And I do.

I’ve been playing like shit these last couple games before all-star. I blame it on Maraye and my inability to get her out of my head.

So instead of getting sleep, and quite possibly dreaming about her and those perfect eyes, I’m on the court at our hotel, putting up shot after shot until the sound of the nylon and the leather becoming one just meshes in my brain like music.

Music. Yet another thing that reminds me of her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

It’s Rickea. Her voice is easy to spot even with my back turned.

“I’m getting shots up Kea.”

“Well I can see that. It’s two in the morning, P.” 

I chase after my rebound once again before looking at her lazily. Completely decked out in Sparks gear, similarly to myself.

I think my silence in this whole matter is part of the reason why I’m struggling so badly. But I don’t know who to talk to. Azzi and Nika would take it upon themselves to fix it. Cam would call me an idiot, which I’ve accepted at this point but still it isn’t what I need. 

Kea already told me my head would be served on a silver platter for making a mess.

So I keep it all to myself.

Basketball was my therapy. I’d get in the gyms and shoot till someone was coming in and telling me to go home. Then, everything would be fine.

Except now it’s not fine. Because I get up, go to the gym, and the entire time I’m shooting, I just think about Raye.

“Ion know what to do, Kea.” I shrug, my voice sounding so different than what I’m used to hearing. It’s not certain, actually the complete opposite.

I take another shot. The second it leaves my hands, I know it’s off. The rim clunks loudly at my miss, and that alone is enough to break me down from the inside out.

“Paige.”

“I need to get her back.” I sniff, not even registering the single tear that immediately trails down my cheek. “Help me get her back, Kea.”

Rickea is walking over to me in an instant, stepping in front of me to stop me from grabbing another ball and letting this cycle consume me for another couple hours. She looks at me with something I can’t quite grasp. Like sympathy, but at the same time her eyes are stern like she’s pissed at me.

I deserve that. She told me she’d kill me if I hurt Raye. And I did, bad.

“Paige. Jus’ breathe, aight? Breathe and listen to me for a second.” She says, hands splayed on my shoulders in an attempt to ground me. 

This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been with any of my teammates, let alone Rickea. Usually it’s dumb jokes, and making fun of each other, prying a bit too hard into each of our personal lives. But I nod anyway, taking a shaking breath and wiping my face.

“I’m not gonna tell you how much you fucked up. You already know that.” She starts. “You’re so used to being in control that when you’re not, you start spiraling. Just breathe. Give her time.”

She’s right. I’m usually in control of everything. My career, my family, Maraye. And now that she’s taking control of us, causing that distance, I don’t know what to do. 

“This shit fuckin’ hurts, Kea.” I groan, turning around to walk over to the bench. “I know I made a mistake but damn, it’s eating me alive.”

She racks up the balls for me before taking a seat next to me. I probably stink, all the sweat from my late night workout. But still Rickea wraps an arm around me, much different than any of the hugs we’ve had before. Like she doesn’t care about anything else but comforting me.

“You see where she’s coming from tho, right?” She asks me. “If Raye doesn’t wanna talk it’s prolly because she doesn’t wanna hurt you more. I know her well enough to know that mouth is reckless.” She jokes, and it brings a smile to my face because it’s true.

“So instead, she got me payin’ for my mistake by feeling the absence of her in my life.”

“Exactly!” Kea nods as if this is some astute observation. “Well, I dunno if that’s a good thing. But hold onto some hope, Five. She likes you. She doesn’t have to tell me that for me to see it.”

Surprisingly the words do soothe me a bit. If I’m feeling like shit over my own decision, I can only imagine how she’s feeling. With all the shit she got going on work wise, to have me pile more shit on top of it must be terrible.

“Just wait it out a little longer. I like you both together more than I like you apart, okay?” 

I nod, holding on to those words tight.

Even though I’m missing her. I just have to wait it out. Whenever she’s ready.

[anim-ttrpgs]

I and my friends are making a ttrpg for fun, and have come to an impasse. We disagree about the inclusion of an attribute, that dictates the PCs bravery. Therefore I wonder what a gamedev plugged into the TTRPG scene, thinks about mechanics that make PCs act brave/cowardly.

Well if you ask me specifically, I’m going to tell you don’t include anything that can take control of a player’s character away from them, but that does not mean that you can't have any kind of mechanic/stat that governs a PCs fear or stress level.

I personally can’t stand that mechanics that dictate that PCs run away, or dictate that they do anything at all like by falling under mind control, not because I think of the character as myself or some shit like that, I just consider myself to be the person most qualified to know what he or she would do in any given situation, so I’ve never been a fans of passing or failing saving throws or whatever determining if my character takes a certain action or not.

This is not to be confused with, like, regular dice rolls. Rolls to determine if my character can do a certain action well enough to succeed are totally fine, in fact I often want more of those.

This is one of the reasons why the Composure and Tiers of Fear systems in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy work the way they do.

We definitely wanted fear to be something that could affect the PCs and cause them to run away in a realistic fashion, these aren’t supposed to be fearless action-heroes, but I didn’t want it to be just a dice roll and then the GM tells you that your PC has to run away now. So, instead, Composure acts as a “cap” to the PC’s Skill modifiers. Base Skills cannot be higher than the PC’s current Composure level, making them worse and worse at succeeding skill checks the more frazzled and fatigued they are.

This never forces a situation where a player is told “your PC is going to run away no matter what,” but it means that the lower and lower that Composure gets, the more running away or surrender seems like a better and better idea.

That isn’t to say that mechanics that force certain character actions have absolutely no place in RPGs, hell Eureka even has one instance of this with wolfman rampages, but that’s only for one single character type, not a main mechanic which affects all PCs.

It’s well known that I really love AD&D2e, which has tons of that, though I also think that that may be one of the reasons why such a mechanic is so prevalent in TTRPGs in general. I’ve found that for a lot of TTRPGs, if you pick any random mechanic and ask “why is this in the game,” the answer is often some variation of “because D&D did it,” with little thought as to whether it needs to be in this RPG that isn’t D&D, or as to whether it was even a good idea when D&D did it.

Ultimately, study lots of RPGs, and know that there is more than one option besides just "do it the way D&D does it" and "don't do it at all."

[romanarose]

X-men working in a chain restaurant AU

I will place the x-men in positions just based on my experience in Olive Garden. I also worked in a small family owned restaurant and it was very different but picture a chain restaurant type like Olive garden, Chili's, Applebee's etc.

General manager: Charles, of course. But he's not very actively a part of the day to day. He's the kind of manager who will hide in his office all day being absolutly no help during a rush. However if you're sick or family emergency he'll move things around so you can go home, and his office door is always open to talk. Not the best manager but a good guy so you stick around.

Assistant GM: Not really a thing in OG land but I struggled where to put her. Jean does a lot of the hard stuff Charles won't, like writing up, or HR meetings. She also does all the ordering because Scott messed it up ONE TIME and they didn't have ketchup for a week.. Her and Scott are divorced in this, due to the all around cheating happening. She cheated on Scott, Scott cheated on her. It was a great time. Bobby said it was like his parents were divorcing. Now, Jean is the only smart person here who ISNT sleeping with anyone else. ESO bc the only other person she would be interested in is 💯 RAN THROUGH!!! (Logan)

FOH: Front of house.

FOH manager: Scott.

He's really running most of the show. He's training new hires, doing the schedule, for FOH AND BOH because he doesn't trust anyone else. He's running your food. He's up at the host stand figuring out big parties and if a guest has a problem he's handling it. He's also gonna be protective of his staff. OFC he's a kiss ass even if he thinks the guest is being dumb but if a guest is rude to his servers or inappropriate with a host, he's not tolerating it. Is he sleeping with Emma and still trying to get Jean back? Yes. Leave my son alone.

Bussers:

Wade: Wade was hired as a server but found he was uhhhhhh bad at it (just like me fr) he talked to much to EVERYONE, couldn't stay focused, easily distracted. Wade switched to bussing which they found worked way better. He still can chat and talk while he works, talks up some guests, and instead of needing to focus he is able to thrive in a job that requires you to do many small tasks. His high energy and ADHD works in his favor. He'll still occasionally serve in a pinch.

Alex: Alex busses AND hosts. Hosting he's the only guy, so he's stuck being the men's room bathroom checks every hour. Alex and Wade get in trouble sometimes for talking to each other, but generally a good worker. Alex gets along with almost everyone. technically he shouldn't be working at this branch considering he's a managers brother, but Charles doesn't follow rules.

Servers/ToGo:

Kurt!: Kurt is one of the best servers they have! He's quick (although they had to tell him to stop teleporting because he kept crashing into servers running around. he still does it when safe). He frequently has to be shoed away from the host stand where he's flirting with host or the window where he's flirting with line cooks. Not his fault he's got the rizz. He's got good tips though. He frequently get put in the bar tables because tipsy people LOVE the guy. Kurt is also known to make out in dry storage with whoever at any given time. The village whore. No one can resist the lil guy in his too-tight uniform. He's slept with almost everyone in this place, and yet no one hates him and they come back for more. Does ToGo too, but he's a server trainer so his schedule is pretty full.

Pietro: Lets be honest, he's the best server they have. Fast, handsome. He can dash around without crashing into anyone like Kurt (and sometimes kitty) and with more time saved, the more time he has to charm tables. He's frequently given big parties for this reason. There are sometime issues with him and other people because he is cocky, but not a bad guy. Just sometimes hard to work with. If he has an issue with a table, he WILL tell them they are wrong. Scott has had to smooth thing over once or twice. Will NOT do ToGo because he has to work with too many people. Will not train bc it’s a pay cut: he makes too much serving.

Kitty: Walking through walls helps a lot, although she has been known to walk into dry storage to find Kurt humping someone's leg against a box of garlic salt. Oops. Anyway Kitty is one of the less bubbly or talkative servers but she's charismatic, people like her. Kitty is also cross trained for ToGo, and frequently just walks though walls to take food to cars so she doesn't run into guests (and doesn't feel obligated to hold the door for them). Sometimes Kitty will host for more hours, mostly because Emma wants her to.

Ororo: Ororo is mostly ToGo, but if it's slow she'll take a few tables. Ororo is a service pro, which means she had authority and responsibilities and thank god for that because without her, Scott would simply fall apart. Ororo keeps the ToGo room organized and luckily manages any beef the girls have because god knows while Scott is good at managing people, if faced with 3 arguing 20 year old women he will have a break down.

Hosts:

Emma: Emma works the lunch shift, M-F ONLY. Do not call her on weekends or nights, she will not pick up. Emma does her job, goes home. She's the lead, which means minimal working with costumers and she has a LOT of control over the floor and she WILL tell Scott to fuck off if he tries to hover over her screen, and she has and will again dragged Kurt away from the host stand. However, Emma is extremely competent at her job and very, very protective of the young hosts. You will go months thinking she doesn't like you, only to find her stepping between you and an angry woman who came in with 20 people and no call ahead who is mad she can't get sat right away.

Jubilee: Jubilee is the seater, always. She's gonna take you to your table and chat with you the whole time. Hell, if you seem interested she'll chat with you when she's pre-bussing other tables even! (Emma sent her onto the floor. She was talking too much.). Jubilee is one of the few people who will get people giving compliments about her to the managers that ISNT a server. Scott keeps trying to get her to try server, but Jubilee is happy where she is.

BOH: Back of house

BOH Manager: Remy

Remy has done a little of everything. Again, like Wade, he was hired as a server and did good considering his charm but started learning more and more BOH stuff to get more hours. Eventually he worked his way up and now manages the back. He is the only one who can cool Logan's anger issues, and although he can't actually experiment with food bc it's a chain, he likes to make food for the staff on slower days. No one is going home hungry on his watch. It's an open secret Remy and Rogue are dating, but because he's a manager they technically can't... But Charles looks the other way because they are cute, and frankly, he can't lose a manager and one of his best staff.

Rogue: Jack of all trades. She can do host, dish, line, prep, to go, serve. Only thing is she refuses to bus because she did it for a little bit once to "help out" and got stuck bussing for 2 months. Never again. If Remy is on line she can frequently be found chatting with him through the window, eating fries. Remy will "Mess up" toasted ravioli for her to munch on too. Most people like her because she's friendly and competent but if you piss her off you'll regret it. Logan. Could be a service or culinary pro but she doesn’t want to be a trainer; she gets annoyed fast.

Line cooks

John: John has burnt many dishes trying to cook it faster. He's been there 3 years and still thinks this time will be different. John is flirting with every server that comes to the window, and Bobby about smacks him when he flirts with Kitty, who just wants a side of marinara for table 3. He doesn’t realize they only flirt back bc they want munchies or their food faster. Fire comes in very handy when they need to bring the boiler temp up or light a burner that isn't working. he's the only one without healing powers that doesn't have burn marks.

Bobby: When John flirted with Kitty, he re-froze the chicken he was cooking. Bobby is someone new servers might be a little hesitant with because he is straight up. "Well, why didn't you ring it in like that in the first place?" "They can't get three small sides of Alfredo, Kurt, they just have to buy the boat appetizer." but everyone warms up to him because he's not rude when he says it, just straight forward. Bobby is a culinary pro, which means he's not a manager but he has authority and responsibility, which he does well with.

Sean: Sean does most things BOH, but dish is his preferred area. However, he is a certified trainer so he's often stuck everywhere training the new people. He's patient, more patient than Logan but more focused than Remy. He's a bit of a dad around the place, always asking the younger kids if they've eaten yet, and unlike Remy or John it's not because he's trying to sleep with them. He's just nice. Sometimes he brings cookies or something from walmart. Quieter, people don't know him very well, but friendly enough. he might have a little alcohol in his drinks.

Prep/bread/soup/backup/dish, the rest of BOH stuff that isn't line

Warren: After getting his wings burned TWICE (once was his fault, another time because john was being stupid), Warren moved away from the line, further back. He'll do prep and dish mostly now. He's a bit of a pain, very much "I am the only person at this place that knows how to get things done right" and "this place would fall apart without me." but he's kinda right. Still, if you fuck up or are falling behind, he's gonna step in and help you. More than once a crying Kitty has come to the back saying she forgot to ring in food, and Warren will step onto the line to make it up real fast.

Logan: You thought he'd be a line cook, didn't you? Well. he tried. He made too many servers cry, and got put in the back. Now Logan is ONLY prep. It's fine because if he cuts a finger or burns himself, he heals fast. Logan, despite being scary to most people at start. has a soft spot for the younger ones. When Scott caught Rogue with a full steak dinner that Remy made her, Logan was quick to defend. "What is the charge? Eating a meal? Succulent Chinese meal?" type energy. Scott dropped it. Logan will huff and puff about having to anything that is literally his job and has growled once or twice, but if YOU are mean to one of his favorites, it'll be hell.

THATS IT

I wanna keep doing HC's for this AU lol i had so much fun!!!!

Drop asks in my inbox about them!!! Scenarios or people or whatever

also, as always, anyone writing a fic or hc's or making art of this au are totally welcome just give me a tag and i'll share it!!!!

[morinuu]

LISTWN TO ME I JUST READ YOUR TAMAKI ANGST AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE SO FICKING GOOD??

A she falls but he falls harder

Reader finally gets over it and stops coming, moving on and focusing on herself, and he notices and starts realizing how he took her for granted

And then its him that's loosing his mind and shit like that. Dude. Dude. I'm loosing my MIND you write so well

first of all ty for the compliment >< so glad u liked it im blushing and giggling!! secondly im not sure abt the reader completely abandoning tamaki's side (i love being delulu), but i do have smth else in mind that's kinda similiar n i hope its satisfactory :3 i changed only a minor part from the og :P i wanna make this a small series..... maybe like 3-4 parts.. anw this is pt 1

☀︎｜tamaki x female reader. almost 4k words. continuation of this. ure sick, yamada hinata & aoko r just some ppl i made up for the plot, tamaki's pretty stupid n emotionally unintelligent, lots of feelings and background information, y'all r childhood friends, there's like one 4th wall break but i thought it was kinda funny so i kept it

you weren't a fan of february.

allergy season was your absolute worst, the wheezing and coughing sucking the life out of you as you struggled to change out of your clothes to get the day started. you didn't sleep much, interrupted constantly by your sore throat aching and squeezing.

sure, it's just hay fever to everyone else, but for a young woman who carried around an inhaler, it's hell. well, almost hell.

what was truly hellish wasn't the fatigue or the sneezing, but your mum dragging you back in the house and forbidding you from going to school until you're well enough to study again. how were you supposed to keep up with chemistry class if you skip?

not that your parents cared for your grades; they knew you could just enter whatever field you wanted with the connections your family held, but it felt nice to be awarded for working hard.

after your personal maid let out a small "pardon me, miss" and carried you back to bed, you realised that the feeling your soft quilt hugging your cold limbs would never be beaten by the jacket you desperately clung on to warm yourself in p.e - which just so happened to be your first period that day and you were dreading it.

"i'll be making you some tea, miss. would you like to breakfast now?" your maid's quiet voice addressed you, hoping you'd just sleep the illness off as you usually did so she could rest too.

to be fair, you weren't a very easy master to please, so could you blame her?

"i'll breakfast la-" a cough and some wheezing "-i'll breakfast later, bring some english breakfast with a slice of lemon." you said nothing else, instead focusing on calming your throat that seemed to intensify in soreness. "a pastille too."

"understood my lady, i'll be right back." she bowed and excused herself from your room, ignoring your groans of annoyance as you buried your face into the pillow.

"damn it." you muttered and extended your hand to grab your phone from your bedside table. unlocking it with the passcode (because you weren't in the mood to lift your head and let your phone scan your face) you squinted as the light mode of a social media app hit your eyes harshly, forcing you to use muscle memory to lower the brightness to its minimum.

you scrolled through, liking your friends' private posts and decided to message one of them.

yn.spam: gm dude, i cant come to school today cus im sick. can u do me a favour n tell aoko to give me her notes? she never looks at her messages.

with your phone back on the table to wait for a response, you lied back comfortably and closed your eyes, because as much as you wanted to watch something on netflix or play a video game, you didn't want to make things worse for yourself.

you grew impatient for the cup of tea your maid was brewing, rotating between wheezing, checking your phone and staring at the ceiling. it seemed like the seconds weren't passing by at all.

soon enough, your maid comes back with some fancy tray carrying a kettle, your favourite mug (the one your daddy drank from when you were a little girl before your parents divorced), a tiny plate with some lemon slices and a small box of pastilles as throat medicine.

you didn't thank the woman when she helped you sit up, nor when she stayed by your side to make sure you didn't choke between coughs and burnt yourself with the hot liquid. just as you took your first sip, your phone lit up to show your friend's response.

thatguyhinata: Ayooo gppd morning. Sry to hear tht. Sure if I see her I'll telm her.

the irises in your eyes rolled upwards at the boy's typos that irked you every time, completely ignoring how he didn't wish for your recovery.

yn.spam: thanks yamada

you never used any of your circle's first names, which your mum always found weird.

'you sure these are your friends, darling?' she would ask often, and your response would always be the same:

'yeah mum. leave me be.'

only tamaki had ever felt close enough to be called by his first name.

after swallowing your medicine, you dismissed the older woman standing over you and pulled your quilt over your quivering form again.

"gods, please let this be over soon."

...

well.

...turns out, you gotta be much more specific with what you ask of gods, because they might not have the same understanding of the word 'soon'.

here you are, three days later, with your allergy having been combined with a virus that'd been going around, intensifying your asthma symptoms and raising a high fever, making your mother and doctor ban you from walking into ouran.

halfway throughout the day, you realise what had been completely slipping your mind while your lungs were occupied inhaling abnormally.

"i have an appointment today!" you exclaimed with wide eyes, raising from the bed like lazarus from his grave.

"...?" the new maid next to you didn't say anything, she was clearly concerned. after some seconds of you overthinking something, she spoke up. "you have no other doctor's appointment today, my lady. he just left 10 minutes ago."

you shook your head quickly, ignoring the dizziness brought by your fever "bring me my phone," the girl was puzzled "now!"

bowing a quick apology, she rushed to your desk and handed you your phone with both hands, not daring to look up. you disliked new maids; they were inexperienced and annoying, but scolding her would have to wait.

"damn it, damn it, damn it!" you murmured under your breath and tapped furiously on your phone, trying to find where the hell you'd written kyouya's business e-mail address.

you had it saved as every other client of the host club had, but you had never actually used it, not once.

you never missed an appointment, and always booked the next one tete-a-tete with the black-haired manager. if you became a no-show without prior notice, wouldn't that look bad? would it annoy kyouya and he wouldn't accept you in the club again?

well no, but you had the habit of overthinki-

'would it annoy tamaki?'

you groaned and murmured to yourself - had you deleted it? maybe it was in your notes app and you erased it? was it on your old phone from a month ago?

"find an e-mail for me." you ordered the maid who looked up at you perplexed, but carried out the order nonetheless.

the girl was embarrassed when she found out her master was asking for a host's email, wanting the earth to swallow her when she dialed the ouran academy's number. 'the stuff i do for money..' she thought and prayed her family never found out.

it wasn't a long process to retrieve the address, but what was, was the rant hitting the maid's ears when your overthinking about what to write left your mouth at incredible speeds.

"should i say i'm sick? but he already knows that- he's in my class! maybe tell him to give my time to another girl? no wait, he would do that anyway... or after i apologise, i'll say that, like, something came up- but that's not believable enough... ugh!" you buried your face in your pillow and, unbeknownst to you, your new maid's eye was twitching in annoyance.

she understood now why your personal maid took the week off just when you got sick - not that she understood how and why your mum allowed it though.

(it's because you can be insufferable and she gets it.)

"my lady, may i help?" the girl let out, clearing her throat when you lifted your head from the pillow. "i can write the e-mail myself, please focus on resting."

after some convincing, you gave in.

and so 10 minutes later, back at ouran, kyouya's phone let out a ting! with your full name on the notification. he'd already guessed you wouldn't show up to your appointment considering you hadn't come to school in three days, and already had someone to fill your place but left it for the last moment in case you did show up.

why? well you were ln yn, and it was painfully obvious you were smitten with his best friend, though he could say it was a bit different from the rest of the clientele.

probably due to the fact that you'd known tamaki for much longer than kyouya had. and yet tamaki didn't seem to have the same fascination with you.

he remembers when he first met you, when he'd heard that you were spoiled rotten and weren't even planning to enroll in ouran until tamaki did. you simply transferred to be with the boy.

literally everyone knew of ln yn's almost freakish obsession with suoh tamaki, except for the victim himself.

so imagine his surprise at the strictly professional e-mail he'd received from you, where not a single mention of your host was included. weird.

after glancing at the french boy in the seat next to him eating his bowl of some-sort-of-commoner-convenience-store lunch, kyouya quickly typed a response and informed the next girl in line that a spot was open 'for tamaki's hosting services at 15:35'.

"one of your appointments cancelled due to a personal issue. we'll have someone else fill it." kyouya told tamaki, just as stated in the e-mail, even though it was pretty clear you were sick, and he couldn't figure out why you'd lie.

"hm? oh, okay!" the brunet smiled and went back to devouring his meal, not thinking much of kyouya's words.

kyouya pondered if he should tell him the client was his loyal friend yn, who would never skip out on seeing tamaki, but he stopped himself, curious as to how it would all play out.

eh, if the twins could have fun, so could he.

"oh! haruhii! daddy's here!"

the hours passed so slow you were almost convinced time was frozen when you weren't glancing at the clock on your laptop.

the drama you'd been watching started to lose its interest after presenting the third plot twist in a row, annoying you with all the plot holes it left gaping.

sipping on your green tea (you'd been drinking tamaki's recommendation, pomegranate, only to throw all of it in the trash when you heard he gave the same advice to haruhi), you paused the show and sighed in absolute, tyrannical boredom.

by now you'd normally have finished your classes and walked to music room #3, your favourite among them all.

you'd be welcomed by a host and walked to a sofa to wait for your appointment, ignoring any other girl in the waiting area trying to pick a conversation with the middle child of the ln family.

and soon enough you'd be approached by your one and only taking your hand in his and kissing it to greet you, with his blue eyes staring up at you innocently like a man in love; a look he gave to any woman nowadays, it was second nature to him.

you got lost in them so often, he sometimes dared to ask you if you didn't enjoy his company and that's why you spaced out so much.

preposterous.

you? disliking tamaki? how could he think that after all these years you spent playing together, with you transferring to his school for his sake, swallowing your pride and becoming the client of a host for him?

truly an absurd notion.

currently, however, you weren't in the host club. you were just a girl with a bunch of germs crawling everywhere around her room, unable to go out and see the man of her dreams kiss her cheek and tell her to 'get well soon'.

speaking of, your mum grew increasingly concerned when she noticed the lack of communication between you and tamaki. you were always attached to his hip like some sort of koala, and the fact that you hadn't reached out to him to inform him of your illness personally so he could visit you made her worry.

but it was only natural that you'd suspect you were being an annoyance to tamaki once you began to notice his eyes shift from you to the newest host a couple of months prior. he'd been a petit brunet boy. a first year who was friendly and of lowly origin. you didn't think much of it.

at least not until the day hikaru asked if you could fetch something he forgot in the back room, completely ignorant to the fact that haruhi had come to the club early that day to ask for another uniform because she'd been accidentally thrown water at by two classmates of hers being stupid.

so when you opened the curtain and saw a small-sized girl with only her panties on desperately trying to hide herself from you, it didn't take more than a couple of seconds to put two and two together.

tamaki wasn't fascinated by the commoner errand 'boy' turnt host.

he wanted her.

you closed the curtain, giving the girl her privacy back and muttering an curt apology, "sorry." before deciding that hikaru would have to get his things himself.

neither haruhi nor you spoke about it again, and she never snitched to the host club about your discovery of her sex.

you liked to pretend it never happened, and that it never changed anything. but just like with tamaki, pretending doesn't go anywhere. the hints were there. his furiously blushed face when he stared at her, his protection of her when the twins teased her, his demands for kyouya to do things for haruhi because she'd like it, not even because she'd asked - well, the stage of denial didn't last long.

shortly after came anger. pure, unexplainable rage and envy. the fourth of the deadly sins was soon rushing through your veins like a drug you couldn't get clean from. 'why her?' you would ask in your rampages.

you couldn't figure it out, and you couldn't ask anyone either, because as infuriated as you were, hurting haruhi by revealing her identity wasn't on your to-do list.

not because you were a good person, god no.

rather, if tamaki knew you hurt his precious daughter - you barfed - like that, who knows if you'd see him again?

and so came the bargaining stage, with your rage never leaving your blood stream, of course. being petty was always one of your main personality traits, one that tamaki would often point out.

what did fujioka haruhi have that ln yn didn't?

'nothing.' you muttered to yourself.

nothing.

nothing?

could you be absolutely sure?

you didn't see her much outside of the club, and there were a couple of times you'd heard the hosts hung out together.

maybe they had a moment? or two, three?

perhaps it was high time you stopped bothering him. perhaps then he'd realise you were the one.

that's why your texts to him had much lessened, coming to a complete stop after roughly two months of your self-doubt and insecurities getting the best of you. so did your occasional visits to his house for studying. you'd even stopped wearing the perfume he got you as a birthday present last year, even though you couldn't find another scent that fit your tastes the same way.

despite your attempts at catching his attention, the bubbling fury in your chest rose once again when you realised that maybe tamaki didn't care about you at all.

he texted you as much as you texted him, he hung out with you only when you asked, and when he came closer to you and noticed the change in your scent, he went: "different perfume, princess?"

and while normally you'd be ecstatic at him noticing, your happiness was immediately destroyed when "the other one was a little old fashioned, good thing you moved to something more fresh."

why couldn't he say what he would have said had he been in an otome game, something among the lines of: 'did you wish to match mine?' or something cheesy like that? ...was your scent not to his tastes?

'did he forget his skills from hosting or what?' you whined.

consequently, now that you were sitting around doing nothing to reach out to tamaki or any of your 'friends', your mum couldn't help but take her phone in her hands to call her friend hitachiin yuzuha.

back in the pink room that is the host club, today's rendezvouses seemed to be going by awfully quickly for tamaki.

in the couple of minutes of break he had between the end of this rendezvous and next the one to come, he quickly found his phone from his back pocket and went over his schedule sent by kyouya.

your name had been crossed out and replaced with another one he recognised, another regular guest of his. he raised his eyebrow at that.

he lifted his head and looked for the shadow king.

"hey, kyouya?"

"hm?" kyouya didn't bother to look up from his laptop, furiously typing god-knows-what.

"why's yn's time gone?" he asked innocently in a curious voice that had you heard, you'd be swooning over.

"i told you, she cancelled due to personal business," his answer was straight-forward "although it's probably because she's ill."

ah, that makes sense, you were the one that cancelled.

wait, huh?

"what do you mean she's ill?" his eyebrows furrow a bit and he cocks his head to the side like a cute dog who doesn't understand anything its owner says.

"what do you mean, 'what do i mean'? she's been absent since monday because she's not feeling well, and she won't come today either. pretty simple." kyouya finally looked up at tamaki with a strange expression on his face. "has she not told you?"

tamaki shook his head a bit, "uhm.. no, not really." and tapped his phone again to check his messages on multiple social media apps to make sure he wasn't missing anything. his emails were empty too, only some spam from a newsletter page that he never bothered to cancel his subscription from.

"how do you know?" he questioned kyouya, but before he could answer, "no wait, don't answer that, you creep. of course you know." he sighed.

after some seconds of quiet thinking, "why didn't you tell me?" tamaki continued his questioning.

"everyone already knows, my lord." an awfully familiar voice butt in making the french boy turn his head around, resting his hand on his waist.

the voice belonged to kaoru, who had his arm wrapped around his twin's shoulders. seems like they also just finished with an appointment.

"what does that mean? who's 'everyone' and why am i not included?" tamaki crossed his arms, feeling kind of left out.

"that guy hayato or whatever who hangs out with yn and her friends was telling someone and we overheard." hikaru shrugged in unison with his doppelganger.

honey's soft voice entered the chat. "you mean hinata-kun? yn-chan's friend? yeah, he told me when i asked where yn-chan is because i thought she forgot to bring the candy she promised." he quickly grabbed a piece of cake from the fridge near where kyouya had been sitting and left the room swiftly.

huh, how convenient for him to enter for the plot.

"and why's it that you two evil bastards didn't bother to tell me?" tamaki exclaimed in disbelief, pointing a finger at the both of them. how could they? his precious childhood friend was sick at home and he didn't know?!

"sorry milord-" kaoru announced with his shoulders still raised, "-but you're always talking to yn-" hikaru joined, "-how were we supposed to know you're not asking her about her well-being?" they delivered the finishing blow together.

what were these lame jerks insinuating? 'not asking about her well-being'? what did they know? just as he went to respond with his usual barking, he stopped himself to instead text you on his own for the first time in a while. not that he noticed.

the twins looked at their king with a confused and weirded-out expression on both their faces, before glancing at each other and shrugging again, already disinterested. kyouya had long gone back to his work and so the twins walked to an empty sofa in an almost isolated area of the club, lying on top of one another to give a nice view to whichever client was into it.

about six minutes of pure silence passed between the two before kaoru's phone buzzed; a text from his mum.

the twins read the text simultaneously, with hikaru raising an eyebrow at its contents. they looked back at the slender boy texting you on his phone at the other end of the club, confused about his behaviour.

"seriously...?" hikaru quietly asked kaoru, referring to the text, only to be met with the other's puzzled expression.

as for the half-and-half boy, his fingers were anxiously tapping kyouya's table and awaiting your response to his message.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: Hey darling! Is everything alright? I heard you didn't come to school because you're sick. I thought you just didn't feel like coming. Why didn't you tell me?

he didn't know you let out a deep sigh at his text, even if it was three days late. it gave you hope - false hope. that he'd started to pay attention to you again. maybe being distant worked-

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: want me to come over?

the question felt natural to him, you always visited his home but seldom did he ever visit yours. since you were sick, it made sense that you wouldn't come over this time.

yn>.&lt; : arent u busy rn tho lol

your name on his phone had obviously been put there by you, his choice of emoji had been party hat for some reason.

"be serious, what does that even mean, tamaki?" you'd asked him one day during a break from your studying in his room.

"you don't like it..?" he pouted like usual and you rolled your eyes.

"here. that's better." you handed him his phone back with a new 'yn >.<' as your contact name.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I can just come after club activities.

wait, he was actually coming? after two months of your only contact being through your rendezvous? it worked?! it actually worked?!

you thought of how to answer him.

at your lack of fast response, tamaki thought of ways to help you feel better through your illness.

'aha! eureka!' tamaki's head echoed.

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: I'll bring some commoner snacks we can enjoy too! Commoners have incredible food to help alleviate illness!

tamakiii ♥♥♥♥: What are you even sick with, anyway?

of course.

commoner food, of course.

haruhi's food.

yn>.&lt; : lol no its fine i dont want u to get sick. ill just c u at sxhool yn>.&lt; : school* yn>.< : doc said its just a cold but yk w my asthma n shit

tamaki was thoroughly disappointed with your response, what did you mean 'you didn't want him to get sick'? you'd never cared if you caught his cold.

his heart raced with worry, and he decided he would stop by anyway. knowing his next appointment was approaching, he speed walked over to the newest host.

"haaaaruuhiiiiii!" he waved his hand to her and her two clients, smiling widely with all of them smiling back at him.

"yeah? what is it, senpai?" haruhi looked up at him from her armchair.

"sorry to intrude-" he runs his hair through his locks - an action that you told him the ladies would swoon over, "-but i was wondering, do you have any recommendations for commoner food that sick people can eat?"

"...are you serious?"

[newtkive]

pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]

ch. 2 - drama queen core

summary: minho's drama finally catches up with him, but newt becomes a hero.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

__

THE GLADE

[ 12:08 PM ]

y/n: gm pookies

newt: it’s the afternoon.

y/n: yeah well

ur east coast

newt: so are you y/n

y/n: FINE BAD MORNING THEN ARE U HAPPY?

minho: drama queen is awake

newt: you’re the drama queen min let’s be fr

minho: u want me to die be honest

newt: see .

tommy: hey guys :3 been waiting for you all

y/n: awwww tommy <3 gm

tommy: morning sweetums

minho: ew stop

newt: how did you sleep?

tommy: good! used my new heated pillow

newt: not you

minho: not you

tommy: wtf

WHO THEN?? THERES LIKE 7 OTHER PPL IN HERE

minho: he means y/n

and there’s 4 other people not including newt and y/n dumbass

y/n: oh

why just me????

newt: cuz you stayed up til 6 am

y/n: ..

how do you know that

newt: i saw you were active on discord

gally: doesn’t that mean you were awake too then

newt: ok and?

minho: thats crazy newt

newt: no it isn’t

i just casually saw it

y/n: hehe

im ok i need to sleep more. sims 4 was really consuming me

why were you awake??

newt: up for work

minho: you get on discord before work?

chronically online..

newt: can you choke and pass out and hit your head please

minho: THE WAY U WANT ME DEAD IS INSANE

y/n: he’s gotta check on his discord hoes before hitting the grind

newt: there are no discord hoes

unless you count thomas

and i don’t

tommy: well why not

newt: because you disgust me

tommy: love u too :3<3

minho: y’all about to kiss aren’t you

newt: never say that shit again im outside your door with a b*mb

minho: why censor it

just blow me up it’s my grandmas house anyway. u want to jump her that bad????

gally: blow that bitch up i say

y/n: HELLO???!,!!

gally: minho not grandma

she loves me cuz im so tall

minho: tall people always gotta remind you they’re tall 😒

like we get it bigfoot

gally: shut up tinkerbell

y/n: you’re somewhat tall minho

minho: any man under 6’0 is considered short

y/n: yeah but newt is 6 ft trapped in a 5’10 body so not totally true

newt: what does that even mean

minho: give me a break

i can tell you exactly what that means

she wanna hit

newt: stop

tommy: don’t get his hopes up

newt: dude

stfu

y/n: what newt said

gally: can we appreciate the only one actually over 6 ft here

minho: no.

tommy: im the same height as newt!!!!

y/n: yea but ur like 3 ft trapped in a 5’10 body tommy not the same

tommy: oh ..

minho: kind of real

newt: can someone kick gally i’m tired of seeing his fucking name on my phone

gally: then turn your phone off don’t you have old ladies to tend to at the library

newt: yeah and they all love me

y/n: so real

if i was old i’d go in there and imagine you’re my young boyfriend and cling to everything u say

tommy: true im the old ladies

y/n: LMAO

minho: write a fanfic y/n why don’t you

newt: yeah you both are old and not beating the dementia allegations

y/n: IM THE YOUNGEST HERE

ur just mad you’re old as dirt

tommy: youth has left you newt and it has turn you bitter in your old age.

minho: thomas knows big words who knew

newt: which word in that sentence was big??

y/n: shut up minho

minho: wtf did i do

y/n: idk but i imagine you sitting there typing on your little phone and i got pissed

minho: WHAT???!.‘wKWHFO

newt: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

yeah chubby little fingers hitting the wrong letters on his iphone 8

minho: im leaving

tommy: dont leave i forgive you for what you said

minho: i don’t give a damn

y’all mad y’all are all fake im the realest i’ve been prophesizing and reading scriptures 7000 years before y’all fake asses were born be so for real right now

y/n: not reading that

congrats

or sorry for what happened idk

about to drink my coffee in a wine glass

tommy: just drink wine

newt: it’s noon tommy??

tommy: ok and?

newt: explains a lot

minho: no coffee for me this new year only water and pussy juice fr fr

[ newt removed minho from the group ]

tommy: woah

y/n: woah..

newt: i can’t take it anymore

alby: How did you get that access..?

newt: don’t worry about it

in times of need i have to step in like that

y/n: hi alby!

alby: Hey y/n!

tommy: you’re such a hero newt

gally: that was deserved

who wants to play minecraft rn

y/n: me!!

alby: I’ll play, I’m off work today.

y/n: let’s go to the desert i want a camel

gally: alright but then the caves after i wanna mine

newt: if you mine with her you gotta bring extra food and storage when she dies so you can pick up the fallen items

gally: i forget you’re her designated babysitter

y/n: oh please no he isn’t

and i’ll bring my own food

newt: you always say that and then leave it in the stove oven

y/n: WELL I WONT THIS TIME

newt: sure ok

i’ll get on after work

[ alby added minho to the group ]

minho: when i get you.

newt: why did you add him back alby

alby: He was harassing me.

newt: be a man and take it

gally: im leaving

[ gally left the group ]

minho: im going to throw up and die

newt: im staying out of this

minho: (guy who caused it) im staying out of this

y/n: why does gally alwyas leave 😔

newt: why question a gift from the heavens

tommy: get online y/n gally is attacking my dirt house w a pickaxe :((((

y/n: NO IM COMING

minho: im coming to your work newt

newt: okay im locking the door early then

minho: i’ll smash through the glass idc

newt: i’m leaving my shift is over at 1 today.

minho: i’ll use life360 on you

newt: i deleted that app

minho: i’ll stand in the middle of the street

newt: ok let me position my car in front of you

just come to my apartment and we can play w them on pc and xbox

minho: …. fine but i hate your guts

newt: fine

y/n: HURRY GALLY IS ATTACKING MY SHED NOOOOWWW

newt: i’ll just rebuild it

minho: i’ll set it on fire just wait

[utilitycaster]

I think something important to remember in actual play is that character backstory is neither an itinerary for the GM to follow nor a to-do list for the player to check off, but rather a means to provide context for the character's motivations, how they got to where they are now, and how they will respond to whatever comes up. It's not a scripted work, so you can't just make a character follow a specific arc.

It's an extension of something I've said before, that creating characters outside the context of a specific D&D game has never really made sense to me because the GM's direction should be integral to your character creation. At best you can have a very loose concept that you drastically expand upon to fit a particular game. If you're about to play Curse of Strahd, for example, you aren't going to be exploring a complex personal history in Candlekeep. You can certainly be informed by a complex personal history in Candlekeep, and quite honestly should be informed by some kind of complex personal history somewhere! But in the game, you're going to be going into Barovia and dealing with Strahd. And you made a character based in Candlekeep because your GM said "we're playing in the Forgotten Realms". Your character is in that context as well: someone who'd have reason to go to Barovia, from the world in which Barovia exists.

Unsurprisingly, I'm talking about this because of Critical Role Campaign 3, and look, if I am wrong about what I say in this paragraph please feel free to bring up this post and say "you were wrong" but I just do not think this campaign is ever going to not be about the moon and the gods. I think there's ways it could have been about those things and still have had room for more downtime or personal excursions. I think that "pulpier and deadlier" wasn't wrong, but perhaps the cast could have benefited from more guidance in the same way that "this campaign is going to be spookier and deadlier" would not necessarily be a good way to tell your players that they're going to be playing Curse of Strahd, but it is what it is. That doesn't mean character backstories won't be explored (and honestly, I think they've all had at least a moment in the sun) but it isn't the focus, it's never really been the focus, and speaking only for myself that's been apparent for, at minimum, nearly 18 months.

It also doesn't mean you have to like it, nor that you can't complain. But there's always been hanging threads or unexplored elements. There's the obvious limitations of Pike's story given that Ashley was unable to be at the table much of the time, but we never really went deep into Scanlan's parents - and we didn't have to, because the purpose of Scanlan's mother being killed by goblins wasn't "we're going to avenge her"; it was to explain why he'd become a wandering bard and to inform how Sam played him. The Robert Sharpe plot for Jester never got much play because really, it was mostly as an establishing character moment and the reason why she left Nicodranas, not something that needed an extensive arc (nor something Laura seemed terribly interested in pursuing). We've never met Sabian or Tori; the twins never went back to Byroden during the campaign; Keyleth didn't find Vilya herself; Percy ended the campaign still with a lot of damage.

Which brings me to the final point which is that as anyone who's played a character-centric, GM-ed, longform advancement-style TTRPG should hopefully know, if there is a disconnect with what you as a player want to explore and with what your GM wants to play, and it's not in conflict with what was made clear from the start (ie, you didn't show up to the game the GM said would be Curse of Strahd and get mad that it was Curse of Strahd) it is the responsibility of the player to signal both in and out of game that this is something they want. If they don't, the GM will not know. But also, if you're wishing your favorite C3 character's backstory was explored in more depth, that character exists within the context of the moon plot. That is a part of who they are; they've grown around that plot and extricating them from it would necessarily destroy parts of them. You can tell a butterfly effect story, certainly, in which things were different, but that's ultimately fanfiction and neither a theory nor what should have happened nor is it an injustice to the character that it didn't happen. It's just what you wanted to have happened.

[baddywronglegs]

Please will you tell Tumblr the story of the spider head hat?

Oh yeah, this is how I got into TTRPGs.

While at uni, a friend correctly identified me as the kind of nerd who would enjoy TTRPGs so brought me along to a game at our uni's wargame and RPG society.

I think we were just before the 5e boom, so D&D itself wasn't big and the games running at the society were mostly Warhammer 40k and Call of Cthulhu.

So my first game was Call of Cthulhu.

The setting was I think frontier-era America; of the members of the party I remember, my friend who brought me into the game was an enormous Scottish dentist, someone I never saw outside of the game was a priest, I think native to the area we were as he was the only one with a clue what was going on around us, and me, a shipwright who wanted to make an ocean-going airship, I think? It's hard to remember that bit in detail because such trifles do not survive first encounter with Call of Cthulhu.

The first thing I remember was us camping for the night and our GM asking us to make Listen checks. I was the only one to pass and did so with huge success, everyone's happy, the new player's getting good rolls.

The GM looks worried for me.

She asks me to make a Sanity check. People stop smiling. I roll. It is bad.

The GM leads me out of the room to talk to me in private. We leave a hushed table.

"So in the night, before you fall asleep you hear a beautiful singing coming from the woods. Compelled by the music, you get out of your tent, and you follow the sound of the music into the trees."

"Ah. OK."

"Can I have your character sheet please?"

"OK..."

We re-enter the room. The GM has my character sheet in her hand. There are omens at play here. What there isn't at play here is me.

Come the morning everyone realises the new person's gone so set off tracking me into the forest.

Good news! They found me! I was even alive!

Bad news! The singing was giant purple spiders with humanlike intelligence and apparently a taste for insomniac shipwrights!

Our brick shithouse of a dentist leaps on the back of one of the spiders and begins wrestling it, hoping to be out of reach of its ability to attack him as long as he can stay on its back.

Player A: "I'm going to try shooting the spider"

Dentist: "Please don't, I'm on it, if you miss you'll hit me and I don't like being shot"

Player A: "That's OK, I didn't miss."

Dentist: "Well thank fuck for that."

Player B: "I'm going to shoot it too."

Dentist: "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Eventually, mercifully un-shot, the dentist managed to wrestle the head off the spider. He didn't actually kill it in doing so but it's fine, player C shot the head in his hands and it stopped snapping at him.

Silence fell. Calm reigned. The GM told me how much sanity I had lost. It was more than the rest of the party had ever lost combined. I learned not to listen so hard in future.

The dentist looked at the GM, a giant spider head still in his hands.

"Can I wear its head as a hat?"

The GM sighed. "Make me a San check"

Dice noises. "Fail!" He said that word with such glee.

"You lose one sanity, but you also turn the whole spider's exoskeleton into a suit of armour. It has the same stats as leather but also poisons anyone who touches it with their skin, and anyone you meet while wearing it has to make Sanity checks."

And that's why I love TTRPGs.

[evlynmoreau-blog]

Example of interlinked moves

Ok so our Kolibri (KLBR 2557) tries to share her memory of the love Mynah felt for her, hoping that her cadre will feel it too.

The GM consider that this could be either the ACT UP move or the TEMPT FATE move but go with ACT UP because the goal is to influence someone. The roll will be made with +Persona as our Kolibri is acting with more personal and intimate motivations.

Kolibri player roll 2d6: 4+2 and add +2 from her persona attribute for a total of 8.

A success but she must pick a consequence from the list and go with "upsetting a positive regard". They look at their character sheet and see that Kolibri have positive regard with ADLR 444, these two had been going along pretty well recently, a rare thing for these models. When Adler will learn what happened he will have to rewrite negatively his regard of Kolibri 2557 to reflect that.

But first we need to narrate the result of the dice roll. Kolibri share the memory with her cadre successfully. The GM think about the two Kolibri in her cadre and decide that they are so love starved that the memory overwhelm them. The GM narrate that they internalize the shared memory and now want to help Kolibri to restore Mynah memories, maybe they now want to feel some of that love too (the GM always tries to hint at future troubles).

Later the GM frame a scene to allow our Kolibri and ADLR 444 to have a moment to chat together so that the two players can roleplay the consequence of the change in regard. The player who play Adler like the unusual friendship Adler have with Koli and decide to rewrite his regard like Adler is more worried than upset. So the player modify Adler's regard to « KLBR 2557 worry me too much, -1 forward with her ».

Adler: "Kolibri you don’t understand, this is bad timing the Commander is getting harsher, if she learn about that I fear how she will react. You all don’t perceive it, but I can feel it, her resolve is hardening in a dark way."

Later the GM decide to hit Adler with a soft move and tell him that while doing his admin duty he notice that an audio recording of the Kolibris memory sharing have been logged by the automated surveillance system.

Adler player want to bury the recording but instead of risking to roll the dice on it, the player decide to use ADLR move that allow him to intercept and bury a report at the cost of marking himself. So the player look at the list of marks on ADLR playbook, mmm seem like they already used some.

ADLR playbooks marks

Another ADLR is deployed to check on your work

Rewrite negatively a regard

Your beloved commander stabilize you by 2  

A strong bioresonance emotion affect you 

You grow bored and distracted, take -1 forward to do your duty 

Fix on a new fetish object

Receive a disturbing report

Lie to your beloved Commander

Use the privilege of your rank for something self indulgent

Perceive the loop and reroll with +1 forward 

Access a gestalt memory and advance 

Embrace Death and face your final destiny.

Adler player think a bit, they decide to keep the advance one for later and pick "receive a disturbing report" as they want to get involved into some mysterious stuff. The GM say "ok, you will be able to bury that recording and I will hit you later with a strange and disturbing report...."

[starlitprism]

Prepping for a Tabletop Game: Who Should Do It?

So some of you are probably reading the title and going "... the game master or whatever. They should prep. Obviously." And generally speaking, that's correct. Unless they are an absolutely kickass improv type who has enough confidence to set something important on fire because you "know what you are doing" you're probably going to want to prep!

Now, much like some of the other stuff I have written, I am not here to advocate for one thing over another but I do want to talk about my own habits that may or may almost certainly not be unique. If you want a quick and easy "what do you mean" check out this little post for an example. Plus it's funny

So yeah, I prep for games even as a player. Sometimes it means bringing music for specific scenes or making up mechanics for party games or more. Oftentimes it means sitting down with my character playlist before games, finding the song to fit my characters mood, and blasting it before session to get me in the zone. This is all prep in a way.

So how else do I prep when I am not GMing?

Oh that's simple!

I just... oh wait I had a whole post on this. Ok maybe not so simple.

You can consult your GM, talk through changes as your character develops. Keep them updated on where they are at (this is very important, btw, when you tell your GM to "make you bleed" as I have found out repeatedly). Other things you can do is talk about character direction, the character's mindset, and possible pitfalls due to that mindset. These are ALL a form of prep and you don't even necessarily need to tell your GM; especially if they aren't interested in engaging like that. Some aren't. Some are busy. Me though? GM or player, that's my jam.

I have been engaging in such a way because my most recent character is kind of extreme in her reactions. Her feelings are big both in a positive and a negative sense and they can tend to overwhelm her and her thought processes which means, sometimes, I consult with my GM to come up with ideas on how to steer her towards the rest of the group instead of away. Towards ummm... shall we say a productive outllet for that energy.

Now some of you might go "or you could just make the harmonious choice anyway regardless of what she would do" and to those who can do this, I applaud you. I cannot.

This might be an autistic thing where not being true to the character just makes me feel like I am not playing them anymore. By which I mean that is exactly what I feel and therefore such choices are actively unpleasant to make. I know I am getting caught up in the details and the specifics because that is just how I work. However, that doesn't mean my solution is just wallow in the "problem." Because I see this conflicts not as a problem but an opportunity.

It's the "yes and-" portion of the bit so to speak. And insofar, despite playing a character who started very abrasive and disconnected, it's ABSOLUTELY ROCKED to play her because of this attention to detail and conversations about the character. Thank you @trishyeves for your constant amazingness as my GM. Little shoutout. We've never come up on a problem that was so impossible that we couldn't come up with a solution. Not once. Problems and disconnects are opportunities for narrative!

So for those of you who read this I am most curious to hear how you all prep either as a GM but especially as a player. HELL, if you got some fun stories involving the same please share that as well!

But anyway, who should prep? My personal favorite answer is anyone who feels up for it and wants to. Creating is very rewarding and every time we do it, it's a step towards bettering our own understanding of our process. PLUS, it make sit ways easier on the GM if they working with you. Every step of this refines it, sharpens it, and allows you to better figure out how to create something amazing. And not to harp on an old point, but when you work with your GM or your players, you start refining your ability to understand what others are thinking and where they are coming from.

And for me? Favorite part of collaborative storytelling

[bruce--yamada]

R☆ck St☆r : Part One

Includes : Rinney / FinBin, Brance,?Possible Billy x Griffin?

Characters includes : Robin, Finney, Gwen, Billy, Vance, Bruce, Max Shaw

Add-on : The characters are all aged up, that does not mean this adds smut, I do not write smut about the characters and will not be writing about them in that way. Even with aged up.

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Finney stood at the gate excited, clutching his water bottle, threatening to pop open with the pressure Finney was putting on it.

Gwen glanced over, she raised a brow. "Jeez, Finn. Calm down man." Finney snapped his head towards the girl. "No! I'm excited, I'm finally seeing the Robin Arellano!!!" He said happily. "Yeah, and Vance Hopper."

Someone walked over to them. "God, Vance Hopper. Do you think I could get his guitar pick?" He asked. "Dunno Bruce. There's y'know, two other people in the band." "Griffin Stagg and Billy Showalter, we know Gwenny." Finn added.

"Can you believe we went to high school with them?" Finn mumbled as he leaned against the gate, staring at the dark empty stage that would soon hold the band.

"Nope, I literally can't. We went to the k-12 with them, actually." Gwen added on. Finney sighed and ran his finger along the rail that divided the stage with the crowds.

"I wonder if he'll remember me." Finney thought to himself. Him, Gwen, and Bruce all had VIP, they were going to get to meet them and that made him so happy.

"Hey kiddos-" "I'm twenty two.." Finney cut him off. "I'm twenty." Gwen spoke up. "And I'm twenty four.." Bruce finished. "Oh, well. What's up! I'm the GM, I see that you three have VIP. I'm Max Shaw, so when the show is done. Just come find me and I'll get you to the crew."

Finn smiled and nodded. "Thanks Max." "No problem kid, enjoy your time.. At The Black Phone." Just this random guy saying this gave Finney chills. He was so excited, this was his favorite band of all time.

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"Okay guys, we go out in a few minutes. We gotta get this shit ready." "No the fuck we don't? You dickwad, fucking check the schedule again asshole!" The blonde spoke, he was quite stressed and it was showing.

"I just fucking did assjack." The shorter one spoke. "God Vance, it's right fucking there."

"Well sor'ry Griffin. Coulda fucking started w'th that." Vance snapped back.

"Guys- Calm down. We have a show in a few minutes, can we not? We should be using this time making sure we are all warmed up. Voices, instruments! So c'mon-" The brown haired guy spoke.

Vance and Griffin just looked at him, the other gave them an awkward smile. "O-Or you can keep.. Fighting." "Nah." The final member joined them, he hooked his arm over the brown haired guy. "Don't tell 'em that Billy."

Billy jumped slightly. "God damn Robin- Scared me." Robin smirked and shrugged. "Hey, shitheads. Calm down, we have a show today and it's.. Starting.." Robin brought his wrist to his face, though he didn't have a watch. "Now."

"NOW? FUCKING NOW? I DON'T KNOW IF MY BASS IS TUNED." "Maybe you should have made sure it was instead of arguing with Griff." Vance rolled his eyes and grabbed it, he strummed through it a bit, making sure it was good. He brushed past Robin, shoulder checking him a bit.

Robin let his eyes follow Vance. Griffin grabbed his sticks and followed Vance quickly. Robin sighed and grabbed his pick, he looked at it. The entire thing was made to look like a galaxy.

"So ya think he'll show?" Billy asked as he looked at him. Robin gripped his pick and shrugged. "If he don't, then I'll hope for next show." He began to walk away before Billy grabbed his shoulder. "Robin." Robin turned and looked at him. "Who's to say he'll even remember you?" "Who's to say he won't?" Billy opened his mouth, but he didn't protest. He released his grip on him.

Robin turned back around and walked out of the room, Billy following close behind him.

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"You play?" The dirty blonde spoke, staring at the guitar. "Oh, yeah. I do." The other smiled, going over to pick up his guitar. "I could.. Play sm'thin for ya Finn." Finney smiled. "I think I would enjoy that Arellano."

Robin inhaled and exhaled, starting to strum a tune on his guitar. "Are you going to be a guitarist when you're older?" "Nah, haven't thought about it." "Robin."

Finney stood up and walked over to Robin, placing his hands on his shoulders. "I'm tellin' you, that you should be in a band." Robin felt himself tense up under Finney's touch, he loosened up quickly though.

"I am going to miss you Finney Blake." "Just don't forget me Arellano."

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The stage lights clicked off, and fog stormed the stage. Some floor lights came on, some escaping the fog, others piercing through it.

Finney gripped the railing, his smile huge. He loosened his grip, his hands starting to hurt from how tightly his hold was on the rail.

Some cheers started as the curly haired blonde came out. Bruce immediately got closer to the rail. "God he's so dreamy." He said with a lovestruck tone.

Vance grabbed the mic. "What the fuck is up every body? Y'all know me, Vance fucking HOPPPERR!" Cheers went through the entire crowd. Finney smiled and covered his ears a bit.

"We in The Black Phone, are so fucking happy to be performing for all you pretty ladies and pretty men. We love everyone here." He put his hands up and made a heart with his fingers. He set them back down and brought the mic back to his face.

"Anyways, we'll be playing our personal favorites, the crowds favorites. We hope, other than that, and a few other words from my fellow bandmates. LET'S GET THE FUCK STARTEDDD!" Cheers came from everyone again as Vance handed the mic to Griffin.

"Enjoy the show." He quickly handed it off, Billy didn't say anything he just handed it to Robin.

Finney stared at him in awe, he looked so different from high school. Robin looked around the crowd before he put the mic to his mouth.

"Billy is just saving his voice, everyone, I would too if I was the main singer. We love you Showalter." Billy looked at him with a straight face, but he couldn't keep it. Letting out a chuckle.

"I really hope.." He stopped as he made eye contact with Finney, he froze a bit. "Y'all enjoy our show!" Billy spoke and walked over to him, snatching the mic from the other.

Finney held the eye contact, Robin smiled. He mouthed "Hey Finn." Finney felt himself go red a bit, he said something back but Robin couldn't read his lips.

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The end of part one :) I hope y'all enjoyed it because I really liked writing this 😭

[zorlok-if]

How did you like Burrows End on Dropout?

I'm a few episodes behind (just checked and I think I'm on episode six or seven? hard to tell cause I share my account with quite a few people lol) but I've really enjoyed it so far. Definitely more than I expected to which seems to be a theme with Aabria seasons for me (not that I ever doubt her prowess as a GM/storyteller, I adore her and think her work is incredible, but the premises she comes to the dome with are typically ones where I'm like, "huh, okay, I'll watch it but I'm not sure if this is my thing" but then it's my fucking everything—hello ACoFaF).

I'd say that my favorite thing is the interpersonal familial relationships. The acting and chemistry between the cast members is truly off the charts this season. I love Rashawn and Jasper, think they're incredible additions to the cast. The concept is unexpected but so interesting. I think the worldbuilding is really cool, the idea and themes/politics are well executed, and the dome effects and production design are (as always) top notch.

The one thing that I can think of, as of now, is that there are certain moments that can be hard for me to watch just from an anxiety perspective, partially because the acting is so good and the cast are so committed to these characters. Like, [light spoiler alert] there are moments with Ava and the kids where I just have to pause and walk away for a minute because they are stressing me out so much with their... (how to say this?) stubborness/forthrightness? It can be a lot sometimes.

But, overall, I've really liked it. Awesome idea, wonderful cast, great production. Only thing for me is that some of the characters have moments that are a little hard to watch (but even then, it makes sense for who they are and it's just for a bit; certainly worth watching cause it often drives the plot in different, more complicated directions).

Very curious about what others think about this season because, in many ways, it feels very unique to me. So, I invite you to share your thoughts (on this season and others if you're so inclined).

[moeblob]

Before I post any art, I gotta say a thing. And I've told a few people already but I am gonna share it here, too.

TW; Anxiety (but like positive?)

At work I am quite well-known as "that person with anxiety". I think at most points, despite turnover rates of employees, at minimum 65% of all employees have seen me cry at work before. If they haven't, it's probably someone on night crew. The thing is though, it has it's really weird benefits? I'm absolutely not here to wish anxiety on anyone but when someone that isn't me has anxiety? A lot of coworkers will ask me to talk to the person in the middle of an attack because "hey you can relate".

And today all I had to do was listen to someone vent their work stress as she cried out back and vaped a little to calm down. Like, she didn't ask me to join her out back. A guy told me to go check on her so I did. And she just... let it all out. And as she calmed down and was about to go back in I told her "hey it's fine to feel better but if you go right back to where you were it's not gonna help anything. Go into the walk in cooler for a minute to literally cool off" and she paused and was like. Stunned. That it could be that easy. (note, the back? no AC. her station? the pizza station? ovens AND multiple people for body heat. outside where she vented? also hot!)

I just enjoy the fact that while it sucks to have anxiety, I've been there long enough to help multiple people through an attack because I'm just a small and little fella. The least intimidating person in the restaurant who has been seen crying more than any other worker.

I remember having my own anxiety attack and my GM at the time just walked over to me and stood at a slight distance and started to talk to me about a video game he'd been playing lately and when he left to get back to work, I felt better. He just ... rambled about something to distract me and it worked. I remember a manager who had real bad anxiety prior to working and had it under control who told me it was fine to feel anxious because your brain's stupid. And, as a restaurant, he's like "to your brain under an anxiety attack, you could have a line out the door or a lion at the door and it's the exact same sense of fear."

Basically, I haven't had super huge attacks at work lately but I'm still known for having them and for some reason, that gets spread around and no one ever acts like it's a defect. In fact, plenty find it relatable! And when I can help someone with advice I've gotten before or just distracting them with a silly story about the one time I walked in the back door and walked into the cooler and started to cry and shake and a manager found me and goes "did you even clock in yet?" and I shook my head and he told me to go home but after I sat in my car for a bit to calm down. It's nice to hear someone laugh when I tell them "so hey, at least YOU got to clocking in so you're getting paid to cry".

It's just wild how a little understanding goes a long way? How it doesn't fix anything but dang it really does help to just co-exist as "ah yeah I get that - do you want some water?"

[sarandipitywrites]

OC Questionnaire

Thanks for the tag, @kaylinalexanderbooks! Go check out her OCs questionnaires (and grab a mug of hot chocolate ☕) here

Rules: answer the given questions in the POV of your OCs, then give the next people three more questions!

I'll pass this tag on (with no pressure) to @stesierra, @faeriecinna, @writingamongther0ses, @elizaellwrites, @sageswriteblr, plus an open tag for anyone who wants to join in! Your questions will be: 1) What incredibly common thing have you never done?

2) What’s your best “my coworkers are crazy” story?

3) What songs would be played on a loop in hell?

I'll pose my questions to Jacqui from Spark Signature:

1) Describe your ideal life.

"It'd have a lot less customer service, that's for sure." She laughs as she says it, but she glances down the bar before she continues. "Look, the bar's great, but this was always Vy's dream, you know? If it wouldn't mean ditching the crew, I kind of always wanted to go into business for myself." She turns her chair around and pushes her hair over her shoulder. The back of her blouse is precisely cut to accomodate both her wings and the back of her chair. "I'd really want to go into fashion design - you know, clothes that are actually easy to put on? It's literally impossible to find a cute turtleneck when you have wings." She turns back around and rolls her eyes. "Like, the Convergence was two hundred years ago. It's absurd that you still can't find clothes that can accomodate an extra appendage or two." Down the bar, the alarm for the dishwasher goes off. She glares at it. "But, you know. That'd mean ditching the crew. So." She shrugs and moves over to put the clean glasses away.

2) What are you most looking forward to?

That gets a laugh out of her. "So I GM for our weekly Skulls and Shackles game - I tell the story, run the NPCs, run the monsters, all that fun stuff. And I've got such a big twist coming up. It's, like, three sessions away, tops, and they all have no. Idea." She giggles as she stacks pint glasses under the bar. "They're so gonna die."

3) What's your most unique trait?

Her wings - gossamer green swallowtail streaked with electric pink - flutter idly as she thinks. "I'm not sure there's any one thing that's totally unique to me. I mean, we all contains multitiudes and all that, right? But," she waves a glass, narrowly missing knocking it against the edge of the bar, "I will say that I own the largest collection of legwarmers this side of the Cascades, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise." You raise your brow at that; her eyes narrow. "Anyone."

Spark Signature taglist (ask to be added or removed): @leah-yasmin-writes, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @mundanemoongirl

[baahsu]

ong hi new anon welcome to our small, small slice of the internet full of vscest related content!! its me, essay anon, aka (bc we're getting a handful of anons now and it can get hard to differentiate) J.J :) neways new sustenance for yall:

rahh casually affectionate sanji unknowingly being the death of emotions-restored/redeemed 124ji!!

like now that he can get in all the touching (both sexual and nonsexual kind) he missed out on in the past, he sooo eager to be hanging off any of his brothers whenever he gets the chance!!!

i can imagine him throwing himself in yonjis lap all the time, getting nice and comfy while ranting excitedly about his interests- like the new recipes hes come up with recently. and yonji- while very happy to *try* and listen because a: "omg sanji" and b: "omg food"- is barely able to keep up bc hes too flustered by the way sanji keeps squirming in his lap and pressing against his chest all while smiling at him like hes the most interesting thing to look at in the whole world. yonji cant tell if hes horny or genuinely flustered over it. prolly both lol

since (i think? feel free to fact check me lol) nijis closest to snooj in height, sanji would lean on/against him. *a lot*. yk like that *casual* casual physical affection. one day niji was just chilling on a couch or smthn and sanji came and sat right next to him, resting his head on his shoulder and making niji figuratively (and prolly literally too lol) short-circuit. just imagine how red nijis face would be– "oh my god WHAT?! fuck hes so warm, he smells so nice, do i do something?? what do i *do* fuck fuck shit-" like hes internally freaking out heart racing a million miles a minute and nose threatening to bleed n sanjis there beside him all like "😇😇" with not a worry in the world bc hes been wanting this his whole life lmaoo

ichijis an interesting case to me bc i imagine him as p hard to fluster, even after the addition of emotions. so i think itd all just have to Hit him one day for him to get real flustered about sanjis affections. like the two r chilling, cuddling together and suddenly it clicks for ichiji that "oh. im holding sanji. *the* sanji. *MY* sanji." and all the emotional weight of sanji's kind, casual affections hit him at once, making his heart beat out of his chest n have him turn teary eyed and face beet red. if sanji had his head on ichis chest and felt his heartrate spike he'd look up at him all confused and concerned- and thats all it takes for ichi to kiss (and fuck :]) him senseless

no reiju inclusion bc a: sanji would never touch a lady without express permission! and b: even if it was behind closed doors, sanji was already affectionate with reiju before in the past as kids, so hes not worried on missing out. ofc that doesnt mean he'll turn down affection from big sis- he'd never!!! just means she aint priority number 1 on his "people to smother with affection" list <3<3

ok me tired gn/gm bahhh <3<3 -J.J

J.J!!!! I feel like I need to say nice to meet you now we both have names akdkakd

Omg omg!!! This description of yonji really made me think of him as a puppy, he's just so happy to be around sanji and listen to him and "omg it's sanji!! He's really here!!! I must behave so he continues doing this!!" But he also wants to touch and reciprocate the cuddling so he just sits there kinda trembling in excitement waiting for sanji to hint it's ok for yonji to pounce on him

Niji giving off the tsundere vibes I love, he's really going through it and maybe one time he even kinda shoves sanji away because "wtf are you doing omg warn a man???" And sanji's not actually mad because he knows how they are now and he understands niji's trying but emotions and feeling and affection are still hard

I agree with ichiji too, he's so in control of himself and nothing phases him and of course he's delighted sanji's with him, but it's still not in him to outwardly show it. He'll gladly run his fingers through sanji's hair tho, and nuzzles against his cheeks and neck, and in the middle of it it'll hit him that sanji's there and he loves him and sanji loves him back and it's so overwhelming he's afraid sanji will notice and ask him if everything's ok, because at that point he won't even know how to answer it