#the dm at the end of that session: that was not how i expected any of this to go

[sanctamater]

i love d&d because what do you mean our hairbrained scheme somehow succeeded

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 16: TIME WILL TELL

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | CH 15 | MASTERLIST | CH 17 (soon)

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: angst, fluff, language, therapy representation, mentions of mental health, scenes inspired by serendipity the movie, writer/reader inside joke wc: ~11.9k (sorry) 💌: idk how slot got in here but im rocking with it song inspo: The Sun x KYLE ft. Bryson Tiller & Raphael Saadiq

The first year after your break up with Trent went just how you would expect it to go – terribly.

It felt like trying to unspool a stubborn thread that wouldn’t come undone. The breakup coupled with Les Notes d’Amour no longer existing due to sabotage and betrayal left you feeling emptier than ever. You spent weeks replaying the sequence of events trying to pinpoint the exact moment your dreams turned into ash. Ember was nothing more than a pawn for Aaron’s game. She became a vehicle for him to drive his petty vendetta into the heart of your life. Her misguided attempts at gaining his approval quickly backfired and left her a jobless criminal. 

Tara on the other hand, was nothing more than a girl who loved a gossiping yap session, though she was more careless than malicious. None of it mattered anymore though. You already lost everything, including the one person who may have been able to help you navigate it all. You figured it would be easier to cut ties in order to protect him from the wreckage you became. 

The tears came first – there were enough of them that you were genuinely surprised you were somehow still hydrated. They started off as silent tears that soaked into the plush folds of your pillow at night, but then they turned into loud ones that made your chest heave in the shower when no one else was around. You thought the tears would stop as time went on, but they never really did. Instead, they settled into an ache that you became used to. 

The first few months of the year were spent in bed, trapped between the walls of your apartment while the rest of the world passed by. Your days blurred together into one endless loop of doom scrolling, ignoring calls, and deleting messages. Trent’s messages came frequently at first. He went back to the simple texts he used to send when you first started dating, but each notification alert struck you like lightning.

I miss you.

Talk to me Y/N. Please.

I don’t understand why you’re shutting me out.

I love you. I always will.

You couldn’t bring yourself to open any of them, or even read the previews for long. If you let the words sink in for too long, you knew you’d let the warm cadence of his voice play in your head…and you knew you would cave. You couldn’t afford to cave. 

So you blocked him – his number, social media, email, everything.

You thought that would be the end of it, but then an account by the name of ‘scentimental’ followed you. You wanted to relock your account after your break up but never got around to it. The instagram follow made you take a second glance, almost as if your intuition knew something you couldn’t quite place just yet. You weren’t in the mood to entertain any random accounts, but you tapped on the profile anyway. It had one post featuring a blurry picture of a perfume bottle on a window sill with a caption:

Some things don’t fade, no matter how hard you try.

You stared at it for a long time as your finger hovered over the profile. The bio was empty, the follower list was suspiciously small, and the account only followed you and a few random fan accounts. You immediately received a DM, sensing that same magnetic feeling you always felt with Trent. That feeling was something you missed, so you opened the DM, chasing the feeling one last time.

Hey, Y/N. Love your work! I saw something that reminded me of you the other day. You’ve been really quiet lately. Wondered if you were still out there making the world smell better?

The messages were vague, but not vague enough for you not to peep what was going on based on the phrasing and timing. This wasn’t a random account at all; it was Trent’s burner account. You stared at the messages for a while, hovering your finger over the block button.

“Seriously?” you muttered while shaking your head. He couldn’t possibly believe you wouldn’t notice, the man wasn’t subtle at all. He could have at least followed a few more accounts and pretended a little better, but it was clear he would do anything to get even a small snippet into your life now that you had locked him out. You let out a deep sigh, pressing the block button without bothering to send a reply as you tossed your phone on the bed. 

As more months went by, the twins had become your lifeline to the outside world. Ezzie made it her personal mission to pull you out of the pit you sunk into. One day, she showed up with her hands full of groceries as the sound of the door opening broke through the silence of your apartment. She didn’t bother knocking anymore because she knew you wouldn’t answer.

The soles of her trainers stamped against the hardwood floors as she cut through the silence with her voice. “You should really start locking the door properly. What if it wasn’t me? What if I was some random person here to steal all your stuff and murder you?”

Your body was buried underneath a weighted blanket and you didn’t bother looking up. “They would be doing me a favor honestly. I don’t care anymore.”

Ezzie set the bags down on the kitchen counter with a huff, scrunching her face up in frustration. “You’re really dramatic. Just lock the door, okay?” You let out an irritated sigh as she started unpacking groceries filled with ready meals, snacks, and fresh fruit. She knew you probably wouldn’t eat any of it, but she bought it anyway – every week.

“You really shouldn’t spend your money on me” you mumbled as your voice muffled through the thick layers of the weighted blanket you were huddled under.

“I shouldn’t have to, but here we are. Someone has to take care of you if you won’t.” She rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter while crossing her arms. “I should charge you an inconvenience fee. Do you know how hard it is to carry all of this every week? I hate manual labor.”

“Maybe you should’ve stayed home then.” you shot back very weakly.

“And let you rot in here?” she quipped. “No way. Ziggy would’ve sent me up here anyway. He’s downstairs by the way. He didn’t want to deal with your sulking today.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“You’re literally sulking right now.” She motioned toward you huddled underneath the blanket, toying with the remote because the episode of Grey’s Anatomy you were watching had just ended in Derek’s death. That episode usually made you cry, but all you could do this time was shake your head and change the show to something else just as equally depressing. 

“Before you tell me to leave, I’m not. I don’t want to hear your ‘woe is me’ speech. I brought snacks and I’m staying until you eat something that’s not depression air.”

You peeked out from under the blanket, squinting at her like you were seeing daylight for the first time in weeks. “I don’t need you to babysit me, E.”

“Umm. Clearly, you do.” She walked over to the couch, plopping down next to you. “You’re acting like life ended when Love Notes burned down. I get it was really bad and you’re torn up about it, but you’re still alive Y/N. You have people that care about you. You can’t just give up like this.” Your sister’s voice softened at the end. She wouldn’t say it outright, but this was a lot worse than last time and your behaviour scared her.

“You don’t get it” you muttered, pulling the blanket back over your head. 

“No. I definitely don’t” she admitted frustratingly. “You can’t keep hiding from the world. It’s not a healthy way to cope.”

You sighed and pushed the blanket off as you sat up. “What do you want me to do then, Ezzie? Pretend everything is fine when it’s not? My career is gone, my shop is gone. Trent’s gone. Everything I’ve ever cared about is just...gone.”

Ezzie frowned. “Trent is not gone. You pushed him away.. there’s a difference. Love Notes may be gone, but that doesn’t mean your career is. You’re acting like this is the end of your story when it’s not. You can still keep going and rebuild something.”

“No. I don’t want to rebuild.” you snapped as your voice cracked. “I’m tired. I’m really so fucking tired.”

Ezzie pouted her lip and reached out to give you a hug. “But you can’t stay here forever. I won’t let you.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hall and Ziggy appeared in the doorway with an unreadable expression. “Can I come in or is this intervention for girls only?” he asked dryly.

Ezzie rolled her eyes. “Come in. Maybe you can knock some sense into her.”

Ziggy walked over and dropped a bag in front of you. “Brought some food,” he said casually. “I thought maybe you would eat it if it was something you like.”

You looked at the bag, shaking your head as your stomach knotted. “I’m not hungry but thank you.”

Ziggy gave a disapproving look but didn’t push it. He sat on the floor next to the couch, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. It seemed like he had the growth spurt of a lifetime as soon as he started academy. He took his hoodie off, revealing the Liverpool emblem stitched on the corner. You froze as you eyed the crest – it sent a pang straight through your heart. You looked away, pretending to adjust your blanket, but in reality, you wanted to cry. You hated that something so simple made you feel this way, but it did. 

Ziggy was on his phone, rapidly tapping his fingers to fill in the awkward silence. “You know…” he started casually, not looking up. “Trent asks about you.”

His name made you stiffen instantly as your hands clenched the blanket. “Ziggy..”

“What?” he asked innocently, as if he didn’t just bring up the person’s name you were desperately trying to avoid. “Just saying he’s concerned. He’s not doing so well either.”

“Ziggy. Stop.” Ezzie said, leaning over to grab his hoodie. She flipped it over so that the emblem was hidden, then she shot him a death glare. “Don’t bring him up right now.”

“I’m not bringing him up” Ziggy voiced defensively. “I’m just saying he cares. He asks how she’s doing every time I see him. That’s all.”

You exhaled, feeling extremely guilty about how you ended things with Trent. “You don’t have to tell him anything. He’ll get over it eventually.”

“Yeah, I know. But he’s really persistent. I don’t think he’s doing it to be annoying. He just really –”

“Isaac.” Ezzie cut in, so irritated that she used his legal name. “Let. It. Go.”

He sighed, scratching his head. “Okay! Damn. I’ll drop it.”

The room went silent aside from the chatter coming from the tv and the sound of Ezzie unloading groceries in the kitchen. Ziggy picked at a loose thread on his joggers as he glanced up at you before quickly looking away. “It’s hard to see you like this Y/N. You don’t even leave from here.”

“I do leave. Sometimes.” you retorted. 

Ziggy arched his brow, not buying your statement at all. “When? When do you leave? Because you’ve been in the same spot every time I come over here. And I’m here a lot.”

You slumped further into the couch, rolling your eyes. “I go places. I don’t need to announce when I go somewhere. I’m not a child.”

“Yeah? Where did you go last?” he challenged, putting his phone back in his pocket.

You opened your mouth, but the brain fog had gotten to you so bad that you couldn’t think of something plausible quick enough. “The shop down the street” you muttered, not sounding convincing at all.

Ezzie popped her head out from the kitchen with a box of cereal in her hand. “She’s lying. I have her location on and the little circle never moves from here. She doesn’t even check for mail.... I do.”

You let out an irked sigh. “Okay. I don’t leave that often. Happy now?”

“No.” Ziggy replied flatly. He gestured toward the untouched takeaway bag. “And you don’t eat either. Y/N you look...bad. Like a sad Victorian child. You need to eat something.”

“Wow. Thanks.” You glared at him, taking all offense. 

Ezzie walked over setting water in front of you. “He’s trying to say we’re worried about you...but in his own way.” she said gently, pointing toward the takeaway. “Maybe just take a bite? At least try it…”

You stared at the bag. You wanted to eat, but your brain wasn’t connecting to any of your hunger or thirst receptors and you just felt numb the majority of the time. The thought of eating anything besides crisps here and there made your stomach churn.

“I’m not hungry.” you repeated the same as earlier.

Ziggy threw his head back, groaning dramatically. “Y/N come on. We’re not leaving until you eat something. I got pad thai.”

You sighed, pulling the bag towards you. The smell of the food was comforting, although you still weren’t all that hungry. You grabbed the container of pad thai and pulled the lid off. Ziggy and Ezzie eyed each other as you took a bite, doing the twin telepathy thing they always did since they were little.

“See? Not so bad, right?” They spoke in unison eerily. 

Them speaking in unison always freaked you out a bit and you found yourself frowning while lazily chewing a mouthful of noodles. “It’s really creepy when you both do that...but the pad thai is fine. Thanks.”

After an unplanned but filling dinner, Ziggy tilted his head, watching you carefully as you wrapped your blanket around yourself again. “What’s your game plan?”

“My game plan for what?”

“To get better,” he said simply. “You can’t stay like this.”

You recently scheduled an appointment for a therapy session, but no one else knew besides Camille. You fidgeted with the edge of your blanket and sighed, finally admitting you were at least trying to be better. “I have an appointment with a therapist in a few weeks.”

Ezzie’s face lit up with excitement. “Really?!”

Ziggy looked skeptical and eyed you to see if you were telling the truth. “Forreal? You’re actually gonna go?”

You glanced between the two of them. They were 17 now, and the tables had flipped. Instead of you trying to take care of them – they were taking care of you like you were their kid, and it made your heart hurt. It wasn’t fair to them and you knew it.

“Yes Ziggy.” you replied in annoyance. “It’s just one session so don’t get too excited. But I’ll see where it goes.”

“That’s just the first step,” Ezzie smiled softly. “I’m proud of you.”

Ziggy nodded, agreeing with his twin but he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, same. Just don’t cancel. Gotta see it through.”

You sighed, scrolling through your phone while cuddled into your blanket. “I’m not going to cancel. Promise.”

The day of your appointment, Camille’s car glided through morning traffic while soft R&B played in the background.

“Nervous?” she asked, glancing over at you from behind her Loewe sunglasses. You were staring out the window, nibbling on your fingernails as the buildings blurred past you.

“No. Not really.” you lied, feeling your stomach knot together.

Camille knew you better than that and was skeptical, but not pushy. “Dr. Ali is good...like really good. She won’t sit there and make vague comments like ‘How does that make you feel?’ She’ll push you but not in a break you down type of way. She’ll build you up with what’s already there.”

You arched your brow up, pulling your gaze from the window. “How do you know so much about her?”

Camille smirked. “I do my research, babe. Never underestimate my sleuthing skills. You think I’d let my bestie walk into a dodgy therapist’s office? Not a chance. Dr. Ali went to Harvard, has years of experience and will probably be able to read you with just one look.”

“That sounds terrifying actually.”

“She’s not terrifying” Camille replied, making a sharp turn that made your body tilt a little. “She’s just real. You honestly need someone like that. I can only do so much. Just let her help you..even if it’s just to unload.”

You felt a pang in your chest and tugged at the hem of your jumper. “Maybe..”

The car pulled into a building with glass windows that reflected against the bright morning sun. Camille turned off the car and turned to you. “I’ll wait here. If you go in and decide you hate it, that’s fine. But at least try first.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you stepped out the car with your emotional support water bottle, clutching it in your hand as you entered the building.

The waiting area was pretty minimalist and didn’t have anything that was overstimulating. There were a few plants scattered around to add greenery to the muted calming space. You checked in at the desk and sat down, fidgeting in the chair as you waited for your name to be called.

“Y/N?” a soft voice called out.

You looked up and saw a woman who looked like she was in her early 40s standing at the door. She had warm brown skin, curly medium length hair and wore trousers paired with a tailored blazer. You were imagining some old, decrepit lady, but this woman seemed very approachable from the start.

“I’m Dr. Ali” she said with a welcoming smile. “Come on in.”

You followed her into her office, which was just as inviting and warm as the waiting room. Her office had a large window that let in natural lighting, shelves lined with trinkets and books, and plush seating that could make anyone feel comfortable. As you sat down, she settled in the chair across from you.

“So, Y/N. Tell me what brings you here today.”

You didn’t know where to begin as you searched for an answer. “Umm....I guess....everything?” you said in a weak voice.

Dr. Ali nodded. “That’s okay. We can take it one piece at a time. Start with whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You sighed, taking a drink of water from your water bottle, though you weren’t really thirsty. You were carrying the water bottle around more as a coping mechanism than anything. “I really don’t know where to start. My relationship ended, my career went up in flames..literally. And my family…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Everything just feels fucked up and broken.”

Dr. Ali’s expression didn’t change, but she eyed you with calmness in her eyes. “Sounds like a lot of loss,” she said gently. “What was your relationship like?”

“Good. Really good for the most part, actually. His name is Trent. He’s a footballer. You’ve probably heard of him before.”

She didn’t confirm or deny, instead gesturing for you to continue.

“He’s amazing,” you admitted quietly. “He was always supportive and everything I wanted a boyfriend to be. But being with him meant attention. People started lots of rumours and just spewed utter nonsense. And when my shop burned down because of someone I thought I could trust…it felt like too much. It felt like I would just be dragging him into my mess.”

Dr. Ali leaned forward, keeping a curious but non judgemental tone. “So you let him go to protect him?”

You nodded, staring at your hands. “It felt like the right thing to do at the time. But now I really don’t know. I don’t know who I am anymore, honestly. I feel really lost.”

“What about your family? You mentioned them earlier.”

You laughed dryly, no humour laced within. “Well that’s super complicated” you muttered. “My parents are more focused on appearances than the people behind them. They only care about me being the perfect daughter so they can parade me around for their own gain. They don’t really know me. They don’t even know my favorite color and it’s right in front of their face.”

Dr. Ali tilted her head with a calming expression that invited you to continue. “That’s a heavy burden to carry. Do you think that influenced how you approach things in life?”

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat as you swallowed. “It’s not just me though. My brother and sister feel it too. They’re twins..only 17 but my parents are the same with them. They pretty much treat us like trophies waiting to be displayed. And I have to make sure they don’t end up like me.”

Dr. Ali quickly wrote something down before she spoke again. “So you feel responsible for protecting them too?”

“I’ve been responsible for them since they were born” Your voice cracked. “My parents cared more about grades and achievement. The love and support was all on me. I helped them with their homework and packed their lunches most times. Sometimes it feels like I’m more of a parent than a big sister.”

The therapist kept her eye on you and the silence encouraged you to open up more. This woman was good as hell and you had barely been in there for 10 minutes.

“Now it’s like the roles are flipped” you continued, fiddling with the opening of your water bottle. “Since my shop burned down they’ve been taking care of me. Ziggy brings me food and makes sure I haven’t died off somewhere. Ezzie tries to get me out of bed or make me laugh. It’s like they took everything I taught them and turned it back on me.”

“That sounds like a testament to how much you mean to them. But I can see how it feels strange to have the roles reversed. Especially when you’ve never experienced those roles from your parents before.”

You felt tears begin to sting and fill your lash line as your throat tightened. “It does and I hate it. I hate that they feel like they have to take care of me because I can’t take care of myself right now. I should be the one doing that for them..not the other way around.”

“What about your parents?” Dr. Ali asked gently.

You let out a sharp exhale feeling bitterness rise within you. “They don’t give a fuck. They only call when they want something or to ask about Trent. My mum’s never even met him but was so interested because of who he is. Being with him validated me in their eyes and now that I broke up with him and have nothing they can capitalize on I’m back to being the invisible daughter. I’m only worth something if I make them look good.”

Dr. Ali made another note, keeping her voice steady and calm as she spoke. “It sounds like you spent a long time trying to fill a role they created for you. Have you ever been allowed to figure out who you are outside of that role?”

Her question made you freeze and you thought about it for a second, but you couldn’t answer. Dr. Ali’s question was forcing you to confront something you really never allowed yourself to think about.

“I don’t know,” you whispered finally. “I don’t think I have.”

For the rest of the session, you talked about the destruction of Les Notes d’Amour and how it left you feeling like you lost a piece of yourself. You also talked about Trent and how letting him go was the hardest thing you ever did. When the session ended, Dr. Ali walked you out and gave you reassurance.

“Healing isn’t linear Y/N” she said as you reached the door. “But you’re here and that’s a good start.”

Camille glanced at you as you sat in the passenger seat of her car. “Well?”

You leaned back with a deep exhale. “She’s good.”

“Told you” Camille smirked, starting the car. “So you’re going back?”

You nodded, giving her a small smile back. “Yeah. I think I will.”

For Trent, the first year without you was just as brutal. Trent didn’t expect the breakup to hit him so hard, but it did. At first he thought he could push through the pain by burying himself in training, matches, partying, or anything else to avoid the emptiness he felt in his heart without you – but it never worked. Everywhere he turned, you were there. He could see you in the way Ziggy smiled. Sometimes he would hear someone laugh and the faint sounds of your laugh would come resurfacing back to his memory. He heard your name in the most unexpected places. He felt you in the soft floral notes of Enchantée – your very first creation and his mother’s favorite perfume that filled the air whenever she hugged him. 

You were in the bed he couldn’t sleep in anymore due the void of warmth from where you used to lay. When he did sleep, he would reach out for you out of instinct at night, only to be met with cold sheets instead of the softness and warmth of your skin.

He tried everything to feel close to you again. His texts went unanswered, his calls you never picked up. He sent thoughtful gifts but they always came back marked Return to Sender. On Instagram, he still had your profile saved under his recent searches. He knew your posts by heart because it was the only connection he had to you outside of Ziggy. When you blocked him there, it felt like he had been punched in the gut, but he didn’t give up. He created a burner account – scentimental – a little nod to what brought the two of you together. He thought he was subtle enough leaving a simple message, but you preed it immediately and blocked him there too. He logged in a week later and saw the dreaded User Not Found when he tried to search your profile again.

“How did she even know it was me? Is she psychic or something?” he muttered to himself, staring at the screen in frustration. He threw his phone on the couch and sank into it, covering his face with his hands. He spent the majority of the year chasing after someone who felt like a ghost, knowing he would never catch up.

That night, Trent found himself slouching on the couch, trying to distract himself with the latest season of Love Island. It wasn’t really the same binge watching it without you. You always made watching it more fun from your commentary. He loved that you mocked the drama, laughed at the crazy flirting, or yelled at the screen whenever someone made a questionable decision.

On the screen, an islander named Cassie was crying in the corner of the villa while a boy named Logan was pacing in front of her, furious.

“So you’re just gonna do this now after everything? You’re pulling the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ card?” Logan shouted with his overly groomed brows arched in frustration. “That’s real fucking cliche. Play it up for the cameras, yeah?”

“I just need time!” Cassie wailed with mascara running down her cheeks. The girl looked a hot mess, honestly. “I can’t give you what you want if I don’t know who I am right now!”

Trent tilted his head at the tv in disbelief. He shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth to keep from yelling at the screen. Logan groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “You said you cared about me Cassie. It was all bullshit?”

“I DO care about you but I need space!” Cassie countered, breaking into another sobbing spell.

Trent grabbed the remote to turn the volume up. He could hear it just fine, but the parallels were striking and felt eerily familiar. The universe was funny in that way. He leaned forward, staring at the screen like it was going to give him the solution to his real life problem.

“Fucking hell” he muttered as Logan stormed out of frame. The scene then shifted to a confessional where Cassie started sobbing about how much she wanted it to work but needed to protect her peace first.

“Protect her peace?” Trent repeated out loud to no one in a sarcastic tone. “What the fuck does that even mean?” He turned the volume back down, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t bear to hear it anymore when it felt so eerily similar to what happened the night you broke up with him. “This is fucking stupid. I hate this show. Cassie’s a fucking producer plant, no shot this isn’t scripted.”

A few weeks later, disappointed chatter from the crowd was heard at Anfield after a terrible match. Trent was bent over with his hands resting on his knees. He was exhausted more than usual. Sweat dripped down his face, mixed with tears that weren’t quite visible to the naked eye. The score was 1-2, mirroring a devastating loss. Trent misplaced a pass during the last crucial minutes of the game, basically handing over a winning goal to the rival team. He walked off the pitch, avoiding eye contact with everyone else as he made his way down the tunnel. Slot was waiting near the changing room with his arms folded.

“Trent!” Slot called out in a sharp tone. “Need to talk. Now.”

Slot stood off to the side, piercing his gaze on Trent. “What the hell was that out there?” It was clear Slot was frustrated with Trent’s performance.

Trent shifted around uncomfortably. “It was a mistake. It happens.”

“A mistake?” Slot repeated in disbelief. “This hasn’t been a one time thing Trent. It’s been going on for weeks. Your focus is shit out there, your passes are sloppy as fuck and your energy is damn near nonexistent. You think you’re on holiday or something? People are starting to notice. You’re supposed to be a leader on this team and you’re not acting like it.”

“I’m trying,” Trent muttered with a tight jaw.

“Not good enough,” Slot snapped, stepping closer. “I can’t afford to put someone on the pitch who’s not mentally there. Pull your weight. Whatever you have going on in your personal life needs to be sorted out. Because if this continues, you’re going to find yourself benched. I didn’t plan on bringing Ziggy on this early, but the kid’s good at multiple positions. I’ll put him in your spot if you don’t fix it.”

The thought of being benched and replaced with Ziggy while he watched from afar made his stomach knot. He nodded stiffly. “Understood. I’ll fix it.”

Slot patted Trent on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “You’re a great player Trent. But you need to think about what brought you here. For your own sake and the team’s.”

When Trent walked into the changing room, the usual post match banter was replaced with mostly silence. Trent sat down, staring at the floor while still in his kit. He felt a familiar presence and looked up to see Mo standing in front of him with his arms crossed in concern.

“You alright, brother?” Mo asked, low enough so no one else could hear.

“Nah. Not really.” Trent admitted with a heavy sigh. Mo sat down next to him, concern still etched on his face.

“What’s going on? You’re not yourself.”

Trent debated brushing Mo off, but the deep concern in Mo's eyes made him decide against it. “It’s a lot. The games, pressure...personal stuff. Don’t even know where to start.”

Mo nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe you should talk to someone. I’m not going to get all up in your business but it could help if you talk to someone professionally.”

“Like who?” Trent asked, frowning. “A therapist or something?”

“Yeah” Mo said, shrugging. “No shame in it. Everyone’s been there. Another perspective could help you get out of your own head..”

Trent leaned back against the wall with his legs stretched out in a manspread. “Nah..I don’t know about that. Feels like I’m admitting I’m weak.”

Mo chuckled lightly. “It’s not. I can give you a contact. She’s a family friend – Dr. Ali. She’s very good.”

Trent stared at Mo, weighing the suggestion. “You think it’ll help?”

“Inshallah. It’s worth a shot. You never know.”

Mo gave Dr. Ali’s contact details to Trent discreetly. Trent saved the number, staring at it before he put his phone back up in his bag. It could be the first step to getting back to where he needed to be.

Or at least figure out where the hell he went wrong.

When Trent arrived at therapy, he expected something a lot more clinical and overly sterile, but Dr. Ali’s office wasn’t any of that. There were no blaring fluorescent lights making his eyes hurt or making him feel like he was being interrogated like a prisoner. She had a diffuser that filled the therapy room with a lavender scent. It would usually be comforting, but it made him uncomfortable because it reminded him of you.

“Trent” Dr. Ali greeted in a professional tone, extending her hand. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Trent wasn’t sure if comfort was an option given how he’d been feeling lately, but he nodded and sat in the chair, leaned back enough to look relaxed but not like he wanted to be there any longer than he had to. The therapist watched him carefully, waiting to see what he would do next. She wasn’t in any rush, and it threw him off.

“Ever been to therapy?” she finally asked while sitting in the seat across from him.

Dr. Ali’s lips quirked, but not in a patronizing way. “Fair enough. The first time isn’t easy for most, but no pressure. Start with whatever you want to. Or we can just talk and get to know each other.”

Trent’s knees bounced restlessly while he sat, shifting around nervously. He couldn’t believe Mo had somehow talked him into this. He felt a bit stupid to try therapy. In his mind, it was too formal for what he was going through. He felt like he overreacted by even showing up to the place at all.

“Not sure what to say really. Feels pointless.” he muttered while frowning.

“You’re not the only one who says that. It can feel like that at first. But you’re here and that’s something.”

Trent’s jaw clenched as he looked up at her. “Yeah? So what’s it mean then?”

“That you want things to be different.”

He huffed and looked away, knee bouncing harder. “Maybe but I don’t know. My mate, Mo, gave me your contact. Said you were really good or something.”

Dr. Ali hummed softly. “Mo Salah, right?”

“Yeah..he said I should talk to someone.” Trent tugged at the string on his joggers, feeling exposed all of a sudden.

“And why do you think he said that?” she asked.

Trent exhaled. “Because I’ve been playing like shit on the pitch. I haven’t been right since…” He trailed off, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Since??” Dr. Ali prompted him to continue, gentle with her tone.

“Since my ex. Y/N.”

Dr. Ali paused her pen over her notebook before jotting down a note. “Tell me about her and your relationship.”

Trent’s throat suddenly went dry. He rubbed his hand down his face, staring at an area on the floor. “I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s smart...but stubborn as hell. She ran a shop called Les Notes d’Amour and made fragrances. It was her dream.”

“So you met her through her work?” Dr. Ali asked.

“Nah...well..sort of. We kept running into each other like it was serendipity or whatever. It sounds mad but that’s what it felt like. We met on a train, then at some café, and again at her friend’s launch. Next thing I knew I was walking into her shop asking for a custom scent. After that I was done for.”

Trent smiled faintly but then it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. “Her shop burned down because of her ex and an assistant. Then everything fell apart from there.”

“And you blame yourself for that?”

Trent’s head shot up. “No but at the same time, yes. I promised I’d protect her and I don’t feel like I did a good job of doing that. Feels like I could’ve done more, y’know? It’s been a year and I still think about her every day.”

“And thinking about her everyday...what does that look like for you?”

Trent looked at his hands. “It’s stupid stuff. I’ll hear someone that has her name on tv and my heart sinks for a second. My mum wears this perfume Y/N made. It’s called Enchantée and every time I smell it, I think about Y/N. I see her brother in training every day and I want to ask about her, but I can’t anymore because I know he’s trying to protect her.”

Trent went quiet for a while but then he continued. “And then at night..I’m always reaching for her and she’s not there. It sucks because I’ve tried to reach out and it’s gone nowhere.”

“What happens when you try to reach out to her?”

Trent laughed bitterly. “I’m blocked everywhere. I made a burner Instagram account just to check her page. I thought I was incognito and sent a simple message but she blocked me there too. Don’t even know how she figured out it was me behind it.”

Dr. Ali lifted a brow. “Why did you send that message?”

Trent scratched his head, embarrassed. “I just wanted to see how she was doing. We went from talking everyday to nothing. Feels like quitting something cold turkey and I hate that. It’s like I lost her forever.”

“What do you think stops her from contacting you?”

Trent shrugged in frustration. “I guess she didn’t want to drag me down with her but I didn’t see it that way. I would help her through anything..even now I still would.”

The therapist’s pen tapped against her notebook as she watched Trent. “You carry a lot of unresolved feelings about your breakup with her. And a lot of guilt too.” Trent didn’t respond and bounced his knee more.

“Let’s switch gears and talk about football for a minute. How’s that been going?”

Trent scoffed and shook his head. “Going like shit. I can’t focus at all. I replay every mistake in my head and I can’t let it go. I’m letting everyone down.”

“What happens when you make a mistake on the pitch?” she asked in a curious tone.

“I think about it for the rest of the game. Then it just spirals and one mistake turns into a lot more. I can’t get my head back in it and it used to be my escape.”

Dr. Ali leaned forward. “In therapy, I typically teach people how to break those cycles. We can’t change the past, but...we can change how we react to it and replace those thought patterns with healthier ones.”

“So what? You’re saying I need to let go?”

“I’m saying I can help you understand and process those feelings” she corrected in a soft manner.

Trent leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. “I still don’t know if this therapy thing is for me.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to decide today.” she said with a smile. “We’ll work on it and see where it goes.”

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” he nodded with uncertainty, but felt less resistant than before.

“Same time next week?” she asked.

Trent stared at the floor longer than he needed to, and then sighed before nodding. “Yeah..same time.”

The second year without Trent wasn’t as bad as the first. You weren’t fixed, but you weren’t broken down either. Therapy helped you alot, and you began to move forward, even if it was just little baby steps. You had a new house, a new routine, and a new normal.

When you started packing your apartment up for the move to Manchester, it felt bittersweet. It was painful, but necessary. The last room you packed was your bedroom. Ezzie and Ziggy helped in their own way, which barely involved any packing. Ziggy was sprawled across your bed scrolling through his phone while Ezzie sat on the floor putting clothes into a box you tossed her way.

“Are you gonna miss living here?” Ezzie asked, looking up at you.

“Maybe a little..but it’s time” you said in a low voice, crouching down to pull out the drawer in your vanity. You reached behind it to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind, and you felt something hard against your fingers. You tugged at it, revealing your old and dusty perfume diary. The diary had all of your old formula notes and ideas in it. You sat on the floor, staring at the cover like you had just seen a ghost.

“What’s that?” Ziggy asked, giving a quick glance and then going back to his phone.

“Nothing” you answered quickly, flipping it open. It wasn’t nothing. The pages still smelled like bergamot as you flipped through. You landed on a page that had Trent’s handwriting on it. It wasn’t something you saw before, and it made you take a second glance.

I want you for as long as the stars shine.

You scoffed, laughing before you could stop.

“What?” Ezzie looked at you, curiously.

“Nothing. Just a reminder of how stupid I am.” You snapped the notebook shut and tossed it to the nearest box. Ezzie stared at you, but then she decided to let it go.

Ziggy still had his face in his phone but suddenly spoke up with perfect timing. “Trent’s still with his new girl by the way. Alannah.”

“I don’t think I asked.”

“Yeah but I’m telling you.” He flipped onto his back with a groan, his muscles still sore from training. “She’s leng but boring as fuck.” Ziggy propped his phone on his chest, trying not to laugh while he continued to spill the tea. “Forreal though. She’s got no aura. She’s fit, yeah, but she reminds me of mum’s chicken.”

You raised your brow, trying to hold in your laugh. “Mum’s chicken??”

“Dry. No flavor.” Ziggy emphasized, motioning like he was trying to season a chicken breast with something other than salt and pepper. “She’s fucking weird too. She won’t drink water unless it’s a certain temperature and she swirls it first like she’s in the movie ‘Get Out’ or something.” He mimicked her, twirling his fingers in an invisible glass. “Then she won’t sip it unless there’s a straw.”

Ezzie cackled loudly from across the room. “Shut up! You’re lying.”

“Swear down!” Ziggy held up his hand, completely serious. “Watched her do it at a team dinner and Trent just sat there like it was normal. Like bro..say something. Blink twice if you’re in the sunken place.”

You pursed your lips together, trying not to burst out laughing. “And what does she look like?”

Ziggy shrugged, dramatically. “Exactly like you would expect. She looks like a walking Lululemon advert.” 

Ezzie snorted, tossing a pair of jeans in a box. “So she looks like every beige aesthetic girl on Tiktok then?”

“Yeah! Exactly that!” Ziggy pointed at his twin like she cracked a code in his mind.

“Leng, but boring beige girl who swirls her water while wearing Lululemon, huh?” you snickered while shaking your head. “Perfect match if that’s what he wants.”

Ziggy scoffed, sitting up. “Nah, he looks miserable. I asked him about her and guess what he said?”

“What did he say?”

“He said.. she’s nice.” Ziggy mimicked Trent’s voice, void of any enthusiasm. “Not she’s amazing or that’s the girl of my dreams. Just.. nice.”

A tiny smile cracked through your expression, but then it left. Dry chicken or not, she was there and you weren’t. Ziggy noticed your shift and he stopped teasing. He scratched his jaw, briefly stroking the facial hair that had grown on his face.

“Anyway she’s not that great. She’s boring. You’re–” He stopped mid sentence, looking at Ezzie for help.

Ezzie shot him a look that told him to shut up, then she finished his sentence for him. “She’s not you Y/N.”

And maybe that was the problem. 

When you finally arrived at the house in Manchester, it felt like you were closing one chapter and opening a new one. The new house had enough room for the three of you now that you all had officially gone no contact with your parents. It was in a comfortable neighbourhood, where neighbors said hello but didn’t pry too much.

It was a place to breathe...sort of.

Most of your breathing now consisted of Rêveur wafting through the air wherever you went. Thanks to Camille’s ability to persuade you into continuing to sell the scent at department stores through her manufacturer, the fragrance had spread in popularity over multiple continents. It was surreal to smell something that used to be so personal to you on strangers. Men walking past you on the street were wearing it. People’s husbands were wearing it on a simple shopping trip to Tesco. Even teenagers who were way too heavy handed with their sprays were wearing it. It followed you everywhere – almost like the universe was taunting you. You didn’t love the idea of smelling your past on a stranger’s skin, but it brought in a lot of money. Rêveur used to be you and Trent’s creation, but now it belonged to the whole wide world.

“You gotta stop frowning when you smell it” Ezzie told you one morning while lounging on the couch in one of your old hoodies. “It’s iconic now. You’re a fragrance legend.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “It literally feels like it’s haunting me. It’s meant for my footballer ex, but now Steve from accounting is wearing it to Piccadilly station on his morning commute so I can afford to live.”

Ziggy walked in mid rant, dropping his bag on the floor after training. “You didn’t have to keep selling it. I would’ve made sure you were good.”

He was right. Ziggy had been grinding through the academy the past two years and started training alongside the first team. Ezzie’s calendar was filled with castings, campaigns, and now New York Fashion Week. You were proud of them, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for the life you had before Les Notes d’Amour burned down. Including the life you had with Trent – especially now that Camille was engaged to Jules. She Facetimed you religiously during her wedding planning. You could see the huge diamond ring on her finger sparkling at every angle of light every time she called.

“I can’t deal with him right now” Camille sighed one night, pacing around her living room. You could see Jules in the background, quietly scrolling through his phone and wisely pretending he didn’t exist. Camille had become a bit of a bridezilla since the engagement.

“He thinks sage and laurel are the same color Y/N.”

You held back your laugh, not wanting to set Camille off. “Maybe he just doesn’t care which colors you choose?”

“Of course he doesn’t care. He’s a man.” she responded flatly, tearing up. “I can’t have sage at my wedding Y/N.. it’s sooo tacky. It has to be laurel.”

“So we’ll do laurel then. It’s not that deep.” you reaffirmed her, still not trying to laugh at Camille’s new bridezilla persona.

“It is that deep,” she snapped. “I really can’t deal with this right now.”

You nodded, letting her spiral in the same way she let you when you were worried about something miniscule. As you listened to her ramble about the difference between the shades of green, you started zoning out. You wanted to tell her about your decision to sell your formulas to a fragrance house during NYFW since you hadn’t told anyone else yet, but you couldn’t find a way to bring it up. So you kept it a secret – from everyone.

Little did you know, Trent was headed to New York too – but with Alannah.

The week of NYFW, Trent was in a quiet hotel room with Alannah as she tapped her nails against her phone screen. She sat on the bed in another Lululemon set that was void of any color besides neutrals while her hair was held up with a claw clip. The girl really had no fashion sense at all – not like you did. She looked like she was ready to head to pilates at any given moment. They matched at least – Trent wore his tracksuits as always, while she always wore Lululemon. Alannah irritated Trent though. Everything about her was aesthetically curated, clean, and so devoid of anything interesting or chaotic that it was extremely eerie. He didn’t want someone perfect, he wanted you. 

Trent stood near the window, staring at the city traffic and people watching. New York was a lively city that moved fast, but in the hotel room it felt like life had been sucked out of him.

“Babe?” Alannah said suddenly while looking up from her phone.

“What?” Trent answered with agitation in his voice, his back still facing her.

“I didn’t want to say anything but...I found the ring.”

“Huh?” For a second, Trent thought she was joking.  “What ring?”

“Don’t be daft Trent.” she giggled. “The little velvet box in your drawer? Are you planning something?”

He turned all the way around now, blinking. “Planning what???”

“Babeee. You know what. We’ve been together a while so it makes sense to head that way. I’ll pretend to be shocked when you ask” she winked.

The silence was awkward…very awkward. Trent looked at her like she was an idiot. “Alannah, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The engagement RING. I’m not stupid. I saw it.”

Trent ran a hand over his face, trying to process how he wanted to continue, but then he gave up. “Yeah, no. That ring isn’t for you.”

Silence.

Alannah looked as if the perfection in her had short circuited, clearly the girl wasn’t used to being told no. No matter how hard she tried to force it. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s not for you” he repeated more clear this time, painfully obvious to him but not to her.

Her face contorted into a mix of embarrassment but also anger as she processed his words. “Then who the hell is it for Trent?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s just not for you.” he muttered while turning back to the window.

“It doesn’t matter?” Alannah’s voice went higher. “You’re serious? I’ve been with you for almost a year. Met your mates, travelled, pretended to care about football. And I’m just some placeholder?”

“I’m not about to argue with you right now.” Trent turned back to her, his tone flat. “Not in the mood for it.”

“Oh, we are” she shot back, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. This was the most personality she’d shown since meeting him at the club one night. “You don’t want to have sex anymore, you barely spoke on the plane ride here, and now I’m finding out there’s a ring that’s not for me? You’re wasting my time!”

“Then leave.” Trent said in an unbothered tone.

Alannah’s mouth fell open, caught off guard. “Are you serious?”

“Full stop” he shrugged. “I’m not marrying you. Never planned to, never will. I don’t feel that way about you.”

He didn’t mean to be that harsh about it, but there was no point in keeping up with the charade anymore. Alannah fumbled with her bag as she stormed out the room in tears. “You’re such a dick. And you’re not that cute by the way. Let’s see who’ll put up with all your bullshit like I did.”

Trent didn’t answer and instead watched her as she slammed the door so hard the empty hangers rattled in the hotel’s wardrobe.

“Glad that’s over with.”

A few minutes later, Trent headed outside with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets as he walked through the Lenox Hill area of Manhattan. He had no idea where he was going, but he needed to breathe in something else that wasn’t stuffy hotel air or Alannah’s suffocating perfume that he never liked. He wandered aimlessly past the people of New York City, letting the noise of the city drown out his thoughts. He really only dated Alannah to keep the other side of his bed warm, but she could never compare to the way he felt with you. He was checked out of that relationship from the moment it started. She couldn’t be you – no one could.

Eventually he stopped. Looking up to see he was at 225 East 60th Street

Serendipity 3 was a cozy spot he never heard of before that was known for selling frozen hot chocolate and had grown in popularity because of a 2000s rom-com film. He could see a couple sitting off to the side, sharing a hot chocolate at a small table with twinkling lights. They looked like they were on their first date, but he saw the way they looked at each other. It reminded him of the first date he had with you.

Then he smelled something. Vanilla and amber. Vanille Étoilée.

The nostalgic scent of you made him freeze on the spot. He whipped his head around, eyes darting through the crowd. He saw a familiar silhouette walking a bit further ahead, just turning the corner. He thought it was you, but he couldn’t be for sure.

“No shot…” he whispered, heart racing. He started weaving through people in a speed walk with the smell guiding him like a thread. When he reached the corner, he looked down the street but he didn’t see anyone who looked like you. There were nothing but taxis, Uber Eats bike couriers, and faceless strangers walking by. He stood there, looking around in a dazed state, staring at everything but also nothing at all as the noise of the city became the soundtrack of his confusion.

In a city like New York, you had to be a fast walker. You were a few blocks away now, but you smelled him too when you turned the corner. The faint scent of Rêveur enwrapped you, bringing back a flood of memories. That wasn’t out of the ordinary for you now that the scent had become a bestseller. You shook your head, laughing to yourself. You figured it was just another stranger wearing a scent you once created for the love of your life. Nothing more.

You couldn’t be any more wrong, but neither of you turned back.

“I’m losing it” Trent whispered to himself, dragging his hand across his face. 

Maybe he was, but the universe had other plans.

An hour later, you found yourself inside Bergdorf Goodman on 5th Avenue. The marble floors reflected the ambient lighting of the circular chandeliers above. The department store was filled with luxury goods like Gianvito Rossi, Moncler and Saint Laurent. You weren’t looking for anything specific, just window shopping and killing time before your big meeting. The fragrance section immediately drew you in. You looked at them all until you saw one single bottle of Rêveur sitting on display. It really was a bestseller. 

You walked over to it, reaching out for the bottle instinctively as your fingers brushed the cool bottle. Another hand met yours at the same time and you froze, smelling the scent of bergamot, lavender, sandalwood and apple drifting into the shared air.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to–” Trent’s voice stopped mid sentence. His familiar voice threw you for a loop in the sea of American accents. You felt your heart drop as you glanced up, trying not to give away how rattled you were. Trent’s hand pulled away a bit, almost like he wasn’t sure whether to back away or stand his ground.

“Oh.” The word slipped out before you could think of anything else. “It’s you. Hi.”

Trent tilted his head, a small smile appearing on his lips. “It’s me. Hi.”

The silence stretched longer than it needed to as the magnetic tension you used to feel reappeared. You were painfully self aware of everything – how the bottle felt, how good Trent looked, how fast your heart was beating, and how Vanille Étoilée and Rêveur were enwrapping to create one intoxicating scent.

“I didn’t know you shopped at Bergdorfs…” you said finally, looking him in the eye as you pulled away from the bottle of Rêveur. 

“I don’t” Trent shrugged, stepping closer to you. “Was just walking by and something pulled me in.” He eyed the bottle, grabbing it and resting it in the palm of his hand as he smiled back at you. “Guess I know what now. It’s the last bottle.”

“And here I was thinking I was special,” you smiled back.

“You are.” The words slipped out so naturally you weren’t sure if he meant to say it out loud.

You glanced back at the bottle of Rêveur in his hand and cleared your throat, trying to find anything to talk about to settle the awkwardness. 

“So..um..you still wear it then?” you finally asked.

“Never stopped.” He tilted his head, searching your face for something. “Can’t bring myself to switch but it’s getting harder to find nowadays.”

You bit your lip, trying not to show your widening grin. “A number one bestseller will do that.”

“I guess so” Trent’s gaze drifted to your left hand and you clocked it instantly. He was checking to see if someone else had scooped you up.

“Looking for something?” you teased, cocking your brow.

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh..nah. Just checking. You’re not all that easy to keep up with these days. You even blocked my burner.”

You blinked, surprised he brought it up, but then you smirked. “...Scentimental. Really Trent?”

“I thought it was a good name” he defended himself with a sheepish grin. “How did you know it was me?”

“You were following a JudeTrent fan account and then you sent me a DM that sounded exactly like you. Didn’t take much. You’re not that subtle.���

“Ah, damn. I thought I was incognito enough” he muttered with a soft laugh.

“You weren’t. But A for effort.”

Trent’s gaze on you softened and he felt an itch to reach for you, but he couldn’t – you weren’t together anymore. He hesitated during a pause of silence, then spoke up. “So how have you been?”

You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant even though you were everything but. “Busy…”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.” You glanced down at your phone, your pulse spiking as seconds ticked by. You needed to go but you didn’t want to be the one to leave first. 

“You free? To catch up, I mean..”

You heard the vulnerability in his voice and it immediately made you want to say yes, but you forced yourself to keep it together. “I have a meeting. I’m already cutting it close.”

His jaw tensed, but he nodded. “Right. No problem.”

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “But maybe if it’s meant to be, we’ll see each other again?” 

“You think so?”

You nodded, giving him a bittersweet smile. “Yeah. It’s worked before, right?”

“Guess so.” Trent smiled just enough to make your chest ache. You stepped back, walking away before looking over your shoulder. “Bye Trent. Nice seeing you again.”

“Bye Y/N…”

The further you walked away from him, the harder it was to breathe. You didn’t look back again, but you could feel him watching you leave. As you disappeared into the crowd, Trent stood there – frozen in place as he inhaled the faint remnants of your scent in the air.

“If we’re meant to see each other again..we will.” he said to himself.

After you left Bergdorf’s in a hurry, your heart was racing. It felt like no time had passed between you, even if it was somewhat awkward. You had no time to think about that though. You had an important meeting to get to.

Or so you thought.

By the time you arrived, you were already running a bit late. You glanced at your phone, sighing heavily as the lift dinged with each floor. When you finally arrived, you bolted to the receptionist’s desk.

“Hi. I’m here for the meeting with the fragrance house.” you said, a little breathless.

The lady at the desk gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry Miss L/N, but that meeting ended over an hour ago.”

Your stomach sank. Thanks to jetlag and a five hour time difference, you miscalculated the time of the meeting. You fumbled for your phone, scrolling through the calendar. The meeting time was clear as day – an hour earlier than what you originally thought.

“Would you like me to reschedule?” the receptionist offered in a kind voice.

“No.” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s fine. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. Thank you though.”

You walked back to the lift with your shoulders slumped. When the doors opened, you barely noticed the person already in there until they spoke up.

“Y/N right?”

You turned to see a girl in head to toe athleisure, swirling a straw around in the drink she was carrying.

“Yes?” you replied hesitantly. 

She smiled a bit too knowingly. “I’m Alannah. Trent’s ex.”

You were confused, but you kept your expression neutral. “Oh. Hi.”

As the lift descented, an uncomfortable silence filled the tiny space. You could feel Alannah’s gaze on you and it made you feel weird. Something about this girl was strange – Ziggy was right. Her perfume wasn’t a vibe either, it smelled awful.

Coco Mademoiselle, you thought to yourself. In this day and age??

“He’s mentioned you before,” Alannah said in an eerie tone, cutting through your internal judgement. “I mean..obviously not to me directly but..”

You scrolled through your phone, avoiding the awkwardness as best as possible. “I’m sure he has.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “That ring is for you, isn’t it?”

You stiffened, unsure of what she was getting at. “What ring?”

Alannah scoffed in disbelief. “Cut the bullshit Y/N. I know why you’re here. Me and Trent broke up today and all of a sudden you’re here too? I’m not fucking dumb.”

You gave her the nastiest side eye, putting your phone back in your pocket. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to..but it’s definitely not me. It feels like you’re projecting. Maybe sort that out before you come for me babe.” You stepped out of the lift and into the lobby before she had a chance to say anything back, and before you had a chance to give her the filthiest read of a lifetime.

When you got back to your hotel room, you flung yourself on the bed with a groan, rubbing your temples. Trent, Alannah, and the missed meeting. It all felt like some lame, poorly written story on wattpad, but this was your real life.

It was supposed to be easy to get lost in a big city like New York, especially during NYFW, yet somehow you kept running into the past. You didn’t understand it at that moment, but the universe was slowly resewing the loose thread that connected you to him – waiting for the perfect moment to sew the final figure 8 knot in place.

A few months later, you were back at Anfield and it felt surreal. It had been over two years since you last set foot in the stadium. But now you were wearing your own surname on a shirt instead of Alexander-Arnold. The number 16 was displayed on the fabric, representing your brother’s first team debut. Ezzie was beside you, documenting everything on Instagram with her phone.

“This is so weird” you admitted as you sat in your seat.

“So don’t make it weird. We’re here for Ziggy, not Trent.” Ezzie affirmed, sitting beside you. “You probably won’t even notice he’s there.”

She couldn’t be more wrong. The entire game it seemed like him and Ziggy were attached at the hip, mirroring each other alongside the pitch. During the second half, Trent had a near perfect assist and Ziggy was able to score a goal on his debut night. Both of them were obnoxious as hell when they celebrated – they were still doing their crazy handshake that had somehow become even more ridiculous. 

Although the game ended in a draw, Ziggy and Trent’s performance was the highlight of the night. The crowd dispersed from the stadium and you found yourself looking up at the sky – tonight there was a full moon. You decided to stay behind, letting Ezzie head home without you so you could process all the happenings of the night.

The last time you were here your heart was full of love and chaos, but now it was filled with remnants of the past and the newfound pride you felt for Ziggy. It was nice seeing him live his dream, but it was bittersweet at the same time because every time you saw a smile on your brother’s face...Trent was right beside him. 

You made your way down to the pitch, walking to the center. You sighed, crossing your arms to shield yourself from the chill of the night as you tilted your head back, taking in the moon in all its glory.

“I didn’t think you would stay.”

His voice startled you. Mostly because of how much you missed hearing it. You turned around and Trent was standing at the edge of the center with his hands in his jacket pockets. The view of him alone nearly knocked the wind out of you. You had no idea he was still watching every full moon with you while you were apart for two years.

“I just needed a minute,” you replied softly.

Trent walked toward you slowly, trying to figure out if he was welcome or not. You didn’t move, so he continued to bridge the gap.

“Hell of a debut, yeah?” He nodded toward where Ziggy scored his first goal.

You nodded, smiling shyly. “He really thrives under pressure.”

“Nah, that’s all you.” Trent replied in a warm voice. “He’s lucky he has someone like you to keep his head on straight.”

You glanced away from him, taking in the view of the moon again. “Just doing what I need to do. He’s too young to handle it alone.”

Trent sat next to you, but kept a comfortable distance. He looked up at the moon, and then back at you. You found yourself instinctively scooting toward him. You convinced yourself it was because you were cold, but you knew better.

“I missed you,” Trent said, breaking the silence. His guard was fully down, emotion in every word.

“Trent…” you began, but he shook his head.

“Just let me say it Y/N” His eyes searched yours and you felt goosebumps appear on your skin. “I miss you every single day. I tried to move on..I really did. But I can’t. I miss you so much it hurts.” You felt a lump in your throat as tears welled in your eyes. You were trying so hard to keep it together, but you were crumbling fast.

“I thought I was doing you a favor.” you admitted in a trembling voice. “I was really depressed Trent…I didn’t want to drag you with me.”

“I would’ve stuck beside you through it all.” 

“I know,” you whispered. Tears started spilling down your face. “I didn’t mean what I said to you that night. I was angry..hurt..really scared. And I only blocked you because hearing about you or even looking at you hurt so bad. I couldn’t be what you needed me to be.”

Trent moved his hand and brushed them over your knuckles lightly. He searched your eyes and you could see the pain of all the months he spent wondering. 

“Never needed you to be anything but yourself, Y/N. I don’t care if you’re not perfect. I fell in love with you because you never tried to change yourself for me. I fell in love with every bit of what makes you, you. I just wish you would’ve given me a little longer. Been lost without you ever since.”

You glanced down as your tears fell more quickly now. Trent cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were glossy, filled with tears threatening to overflow. “You don’t get it Y/N. I’ve never seen you as someone that needs fixing. I love you the way you are. Through the good and the bad I’ll always love you no matter what.”

“I– I love you too....I’m sorry” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to do you like that. I honestly just didn’t know what to do. I–”

A faint crack of thunder made you pause. Trent’s thumb traced over your cheek, wiping away the tears that kept falling no matter how hard you were trying to keep them in. His gentle touch felt just as familiar as the moon hanging above you both.

“I didn’t know how to come back to you.” you murmured in a soft tone.

“I’d wait forever for you baby” Trent replied, barely audible over the soft drizzle starting to rain over you. “I only want you.”

“Trent..” You said his name like it was the only word you ever wanted to say again. Another clap of thunder broke from the sky as Trent pulled you into him, placing his hands on your waist. You couldn’t hold back anymore and found yourself wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The moment you kissed him, it felt like you were kissing him for the first time all over again. Every part of you felt like it was being stitched back together with each movement of his lips against yours – like a stitched figure 8 knot.

When the rain began to fall harder, Trent pulled away breathlessly to take off his jacket, holding it above you to shield you from the rain, then he smirked at you.

“If it’s meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“What?”

“That’s what you said to me in New York” he reminisced. “You looked me dead in the eye at Bergdorf’s and told me that. Then you walked away like it was nothing.”

You let out a laugh. “And here we are..seeing each other again.”

“After two, long and miserable years.” he chuckled sarcastically, walking you toward the tunnel. You felt guilty, so you didn’t say anything back, but Trent sensed it immediately.

“I’m not saying that to guilt you.” he added. “I just don’t want to waste any more time wondering if I’ll see you again. I don’t want to leave it up to fate or serendipity or whatever we’ve been calling this.”

You didn’t want to leave it up to fate either. Not anymore.

“Trent..I really don’t want this night to end..” you admitted quietly. “I missed you so fucking much.”

He gave you a big grin, making your heart skip a beat. “Then let’s not let it end, yeah?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come with me” he said, very matter of fact while smiling. “Anywhere. Right now.”

“Anywhere?” you asked softly.

“Anywhere.” he repeated, leaning in closely to kiss you again. “As long as I’m with you.”

thank you readers ily 🫶🏽

[aesthetic-bbyg]

PAINT AND WINE ~ BILL K.

BASED OF THIS POST!

Bill Kaulitz x nailtech!reader

in which your favorite client comes to you to decorate his nails and leave you flustered by the end of the session.

FOR WHAT FELT LIKE THE 50th time you sprayed down your supplies, wiping each individual tool till you saw your reflection. You scurried around the room, reaching for the cherry scented air freshener and spraying it everywhere. You checked yourself in the large mirror, scrunching your hair, fixing your smudged lipgloss, adjusting the your shirt, you had a client coming in. Not just any other client, your favorite client, the famous lead singer of a German band that had slid into your dm’s and eventually became your regular client. Not to mention the fact that he was cute, beautiful bleach blond hair reaching his shoulder, he always had on dangly jewelry that jingled with each step, a bright outfit and the occasional platforms.

He had booked an appointment a week prior, texting you a frowny face and his outgrown nails that you remember doing just a month beforehand. You immediately pushed back any plans, clearing up the whole day just for him, was a bit excessive, yes, but at least your were self aware of it. You pulled the wine out from the fridge and added it into a bucket of ice, two shiny glasses stood next to it. You took a look around the room, making sure that everything was perfect, then a knock softly came from your front door. You smiled, rushing towards it and swirling as his familiar face came into sight. You immediately grinned back, opening his arms and lowering his tall figure to connect your bodies in a hug.

As you expected, he had a glittery outfit and a bright expression on his face. “It’s so good to see you, schatz!” He mumbled into your hair, lightly swaying your bodies side to side as you giggled.

“It’s amazing see you.” You hled his hands and pulled him into your apartment, he took in the open windows that let the natural light in, the bowls on the floor for your dog, and the tidy living area that lead into your mini setup. “How’s my favorite client doing?” You questioned with a knowing smile, walking towards the cold wine bottle and opening it.

“Oh, your so sweet.” He blushed, setting down his mini hand-bag onto your couch, helping you pour in the liquid to the glasses. “I’ve been doing very good, the band and I are meeting up soon to start practicing for the show. And, I’m hosting the German Barbie premiere!”

You gasp happily, smiling at him and clapping your hands, “That’s amazing, Billy, I can only assume that your outfit will absolutely gorgeous.” As if your words sparked a reminder in his head he rushed to his hand bag and pulled out his phone.

“Oh, you must see what I’m going to wear, it’s stunning and I want to have matching nails with it.” His grown out nails clicked on his screen as he swiped through his photos and flipped to you, in the photo he revealed his sparkly, sequin one piece that was displayed on a mannequin. “And then I was thinking of some pink platform to go with it.”

Your eyes widened, taking the device into your hands you zoomed in on piece. “That’s beautiful, Bill.” You mumbled looking up at the blonde, “Sit down we have to start now, a pretty design for a pretty man.” You winked, handing him back the phone as his face flushed with a red tint.

You immediately began, sanitizing your hands and slipping on pink gloves as Bill described his idea for the look. It incorporated a lot of pink—obviously the premiere would be centered around Barbie’s iconic color— and green. Of course, he always let you have some creative freedom when it came to doing his nails, you were the artist of course. Your took buzzed as you swiped it I’ve the old design, giving you a brand new canvas to deal with.

“And when I first pitched the idea to my designer he totally didn’t agree, he was talking about how the green wasn’t right, the sparkles didn’t look good..” Bill ranted on like usual as you listened in, humming occasionally to acknowledge your attention while always working up his nails.

“Bill, just fire him at this point.” You spoke up, sipping the wine and placing it back down before reaching for a brush. “Your stylist hasn’t done anything but disagree with your options, a professional one would listen to you and Mickey add in their opinions.”

The man let out a sigh, throwing his head back in a groan, you smirked, softly chuckling to yourself at his antics. “I know, I know, I just don’t know how to fire people, I’ve never done it before.”

“Sometimes you have to be mean in order to get your message across, don’t let people take advantage of your kindness, learn to draw line.” You replied softly when a ding rang from your phone, you glanced over and smiled. “Our food is here!”

Bill gasped, as you stood up. “You got me food?” He stared up at you admiringly, voice so soft and happy. You nodded, walking towards the door before he caught your hands, tightly holding it. “You are the best nail tech ever.”

“You are my favorite client ever.” You smiled, squeezing his hand and pulling away to pick up the food that was dropped off on your front door. Once you collected it you walked back into the room only to be met with a phone camera recording you as you walked ack to your seat. “What?”

“You are amazing, truly.” He said, putting his phone down, “I’m posting that on my Instagram to show people just how mama isn’t you are.”

“I do my best.” You winked, handing him a few boxes of food, and fizzy drink to keep him company as you continued your work. “Are we thinking about gems for the look.”

“Of course, it is a requirement at this point.” The blonde replied, sipping away at his drink while watching you. “You know we have a show coming up soon, you should come.”

“Really? I can’t even remember the last time you guys have preformed.” You smiled, dipping into the light pink acrylic with a wet brush and gently swiping it from his nail bed to the top of his previous nail. “Where will it be at?”

“In Germany, but don’t worry I can pay for the hotel the flight, everything.” He ushered out quickly, awaiting you reaction while you work skillfully on his hand.

“I’ll see if my schedule is busy that week.” You replied, “I’ll do my best, especially if you’ll be wearing my nails out there.”

Bill smiled, revealing his pearly as a giant dimple indented his cheek. “You know your my only girl.”

His words made such a bubbly feeling flutter within your stomach as you kept your head low and focused on his hand to hide the blush on your face. Once you’d refilled all ten fingers you reached for your phone for inspiration, flipping through multiple designs and colors that would match his outfit but also be cute enough to wear out for any occasion. “I think a sharp stiletto shape could be good, and we could do two separate colors on each nail.”

You nodded as you listened to his words, reaching for your nail file and buffer, he was already looking through multiple tester nails to choose what colors he wanted. “So should we do a different design on each nail to keep the theme going or keep them all the same just change the color?”

“To make your job easier, I say we keep them all the same.” Bill replied before shaking you a bright neon color that caught his eyes. “Let’s do this one,” You noted the color before he switched to another shade of pink, “and this one.”

“Amazing choice.” You smiled, running the file against the nail, shaping the plastic into a sharp pointed as the blonde admired your passionate concentration. The way you leaned in, eyes focusing on how even the edges were despite Bill not caring whether they were symmetrical or not. You could’ve given him the worst possible set with an unflattering color and he’d still tip you a ridiculous amount of money.

You purposely took far to long buffing his nails, making dumb small talk and stopping your movements so that you could engage with him more. You played dumb when you connected your drill, pretending that one didn’t work or it was busted just so he’d lean forward a little in an attempt to help despite not having a clue on what the issue even was (Which was nothing).

“Are you finished?” You questioned, pointing at the cup that had been sitting by his arm for the past thirty minutes, he snapped out of his mini trance and grabbed it.

“Yeah, I’m done.” He smiled kindly as you tossed it into the trash can behind you, where all the rest of the empty boxes of food resided. “So, how has life been?”

You chuckled softly, reaching for a bottle of nail polish. He’d asked the same questions three times now. “Pretty good.” You nodded, coating a thin layer of black onto his nails.

Bill clicked his tongue, eyes wandering around the room in a desperate attempt to find another topic to talk about. “Has Bruno gotten better?” He glanced at the picture frame sitting on a shelf, a fluffy shih tzu posing for the camera.

You beamed at the sound of your dogs name, lifting your head up from his nails and leaning over to grab your phone. “Yes, the last vet visit went really well! Look, he even starting eat regularly now.” You pearly teeth practically sparkled from your big grin as you showed him a video the the dog grubbing on the cylinder treats in a metal bowl.

“Aww, look at the baby boy.” Bill muttered, taking your phone as you went back to painting the design onto his nails. “Thinking about getting another one?”

“Thinking about, but I don’t know yet, I really want to though.” You replied, squinting your eyes and steadying you hand as you swirled the thin brush onto the acrylic. For the next hour you worked diligently in perfecting the colorful neon colors and giggling when the blonde made immature jokes before the room fell into a comfortable silence. Bill could only stare in awe as you hands worked in such smooth movements, everything about you so elegant and beautiful.

Even the concentrated look on your face that you swore was stupid made him smile, such supple features carved out that he could only describe as perfect. Gentle and soft skin, such a silky voice that hummed with the music, it was ridiculous just how many things he could find that he’d admire. From the color of your irises to the different moles on your face, he’d sat in the same chair so many times and admired you for so long that you practically engraved in his mind. And as the space in his brain began to fill up, it quickly leaked in the core of his heart, he couldn’t say that it belonged to him anymore because it only beat for you.

“You like the way it’s looking?” You spoke up, Bill’s mind fogged up with so many thoughts that he’d spaced out for a while. You’d already begun placing the rhinestones, for what he thought was seconds was actually hours.

“Oh my.” He mumbled, taking in the sparkly jewels that were placed onto his thumb. “I love it!”

“Perfect.” You blushed, going back to your work, and so you finished after another half hour, finishing up by rubbing some cuticle oil scented in sweet watermelon. Immediately, Bill walked over to your couch, retrieving his mini back and digging through to find his wallet. Your hands came up, gripping his wrist as he pulled out a large sum of bills. “It’s on me, I insist, Billy.”

“No, no, I can’t let you do that!” The blonde whined, knowing that you were far too stubborn when it came to paying for his nails. “Just this once, let me pay you the money you deserve.”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t want your money, keep it.” You lightly pushed away his hands that were offering you the money as he frowned, sighing heavily. “When I have you here, it doesn’t feel like I’m working, it feels like joy, so keep the money.”

Bill groaned, “Fine, I keep the money but you must promise me something.” You smiled as he placed the cash into his bag.

“Anything.”

“Sometime this week, you and me are going to find someone to make you a dress for the premiere.” He smirked, crossing his arms as your mouth slightly hung open ajar.

“But I have to check my—“

“Sweetie, your going with me, and that’s it.”

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” You teased, your tone only half joking as you giggled.

He shrugged, hair bouncing of his shoulder while he smirked. “You could say that, the plus one ticket could go to you, my date.”

You grinned, “Your date? So does this mean you like me, Billy?”

“I really like you, sweetie, otherwise I would’ve invited Tom.” He chuckled softly, “Though I don’t think he’d want to wear pink.”

For what felt like the millionth time, you smiled so big and wide that you were sure your mouth would get stuck in that position. “How about a kiss and some wine, in honor our first date.”

Bill’s spark nails clicked as it wrapped around the wine glass. The red liquid swishing as he sipped it before passing it to you, you drank what was left before placing it onto the table. As soon as the liquid passed down your throat he leaned forward, red stained lips connecting with yours. The taste of wine lingering between your intertwining tongues as you desperately leaned in closer, arms around around his neck.

After months of waiting you finally got your own taste of heaven.

y’all this took way to long to make and I’m sorry but ur girl has been busy w school and after school I’m sleeping so this took way long to write then usual. ALSO, I need to spill the tea abt this mf in my class that’s like an ugly-hot typa dude but his personality is a 15/10. But the worst part is that he had a gf— but like we have a connection I swear he wants me fr.

[casualcontingency]

The farther we get away from the Season 2 finale the more I NEED and think past DM has to have happened, although I am not as hopeful as others that it will happen in the series. But I do think it is not that hard to imagine how it could have happened in this timeline.

We know that Armand wiped both Daniel and Louis' mind after the incident, so why should we expect either of them to start behaving differently. We know Daniel continued doing drugs and interviewing people in the area well into the 80s and Louis continued killing people in San Francisco after the incident as well.

So it is very likely that Armand had to make sure the two of them stayed apart, since they still ran around in the same scene. And one day, after Louis already left with his latest conquest, Armand was left alone in a bar where Daniel had showed up.

Knowing how obsessive and controlling Armand is, maybe he wanted to make sure Daniel didn't remember him. And while Daniel does not remember him, he does make sexual advances. So Armand learns that Daniel is actually attracted to him and didn't just make those passes during the 6 day torture session out of self preservation.

And since Armand cannot/does not leave San Francisco for some time, what if this becomes a semi-regular occurrence and any attempt Armand makes to ward Daniel off, even the occasional violent attempt only makes Daniel latch on harder. Maybe Armand eventually relents or maybe he doesn't and because Louis is still so stuck in his grief, it isn't hard for Armand to keep it all a secret.

Eventually Louis and Armand move on, and Armand thinks that is the end of this situationship with the boy, but then on a chance stop in Paris he meets Daniel again, and it becomes a full blown romance. Daniel momentarily turns away from Alice and doesn't finish his book. But then Alice gets pregnant and Armand is still with Louis and the two of them just cannot trust the others' commitment.

Maybe I need to fic it out. If the show won't do it, I guess I could.

[galilleon]

Hey all, This is my first Tumblr post ever! I'm pretty new here, but I'm hoping to share some DM techniques, tools and tips and to make some new friends as well! Feel free to send a chat request (an ask[?]) if you're interested!

With that aside, on with the post!

Better and More Meaningful Random Encounters!

Random encounters are a staple of DnD, they are expected to be there during exploration as a way to make the world feel alive, to have it have an aura of adventure and danger, to eat up party resources and put pressure on the PCs to make interesting and important choices, and also as a way for a DM to reasonably 'stall' the party with a quick and easy situation.

Usually, it ends up something like this:

There's just one problem with most random encounter tables though, it's so easy for them to be GOSHDARN BORING! Especially for a newer DM.

Making them interesting becomes gambled improv on the DM's part if they're not used to it, and it's hard to keep track of the important factors that need to be kept in mind

Luckily, I ended up finding a great source for random encounters from 'Dungeon Masterpiece' on YouTube, and I integrated it into my own DMing. I figured that I'd share it here for any that want to work it into their own sessions as well!

After adjustment, a single table can account for multiple entire sessions of in-depth worldbuilding and fun without getting dull!

Sources:

Source 1 (Creating interesting Random Encounter Tables):

Source 2 (Making Random Encounters reflect your Worldbuilding):

There's 4 major methods we can use to improve the Random Encounter table

1. Make the table a straight 1dx roll.

2. Adding 'depth'.

3. Adding meaningful encounters.

4. Prerolling and/or Multirolling.

You can also check out the "Where to Start?" section for some direction to make getting it down and prepped all easy peasy!

1. Straight Roll:

Its enticing to go for 2d6 or the such in order to add non-linearity to the rolls, but these sorts of adjustments only end up making one or two encounters extremely likely and leave all others in the dust, it often ends up defeating it's own purpose of interesting randomness.

In the previous example, it was extremely likely to only get Wolves, Barbarians, Orcs, or Spiders, from a table of 12! A straight roll would serve us much better. The rare rolls are already rare enough as is!

Simply enough, adjusting the original example by replacing the 2d6 with 1d12, it'd become something more like this:

#2. Adding Depth:

We can add more columns in the encounter tables. These columns will represent different aspects about the encounters that we can roll on separately!

Usually it can be difficult as a DM to naturally come up with motives for the encounters, showcase the worldbuilding and have it all come together.

This setup can give you a solid guideline on how the creatures/people think (if any), and also sets up the overall area so that you get an idea of what events tend to occur there as a result of its occupants. 

We want to add 3 more columns to the tables to convey different aspects of the encounter. Fill in these new columns corresponding to the expectations of each encounter.

We'll roll each of these and combine them, then we'll interpret them to make a robust, in-depth random encounter with truly unexpected results!

I recommend rolling alot of complete encounters at once and interpreting the context to the vast general area the party is travelling in.

i. Behaviour: How the creatures act. Are they friendly, scared, aggressive, curious, mischievous?

ii. Complication: Something behind the scenes in the encounter. Do they have sick young? Broken equipment? Are they starving?

iii. Significant Impact: This is a tick box, and will only be present under ONE of the rows. It will be rolled like the other columns, but ONLY once. It signifies which encounter is the Significant Encounter

The Significant Encounter will have its encounter's presence prominent amongst all the other random encounters in the area. There could be burn marks and carcasses from a rampant dragon, or a goblin raid leaving tracks moving through the area. Which is the most impactful of the different encounters?

Adding this to our previous example would expand it to:

Rolling this would give us things like:

Significant encounter: Owlbears

Note that the significant impact shows that the Owlbears are a massive problem in the area. Perhaps the Owlbears are agitated for an unknown reason, and are unnecessarily aggressive.

The significance of Owlbears gives us context to the second one as well! Perhaps the hunters raided an Owlbear den, and adopted an Owlbear cub from there as well.

There could be uneaten carcasses, ravaged trees, less wildlife, etc around these parts.

Note how much sheer CONTEXT these columns add to our encounters. It's invaluable!

3. Adding Meaningful Encounters

Usually random encounters tend to be rather mundane and very one-note.

There's usually some general wildlife and monsters, different disparate factions without any rhyme or reason, and maybe a general non-combat encounter or two, but these don't really tell us about the area or its surroundings at all by themselves.

Instead, we can add in wildlife and monster encounters specific to the biome, non-combat encounters, and encounters of nearby factions and/or settlements to the table, and we can even add environmental encounters in there as well.

Note that we're not tied down to 12 encounters, and can expand it ad infinitum according to our need of diversity in our encounters.

Just add in specification and connection, and suddenly the dominos all fall into place.

Lastly, we'll also be adding in 'DOUBLE TIME' which will let us roll on everything twice, and make it so it's a double encounter!

Thus, the table can instead be adjusted to:

Note how each and everything has its relation in one way or another, but through the sheer variance, they remain truly random and novel.

4. Prerolling and/or Multirolling

Lastly and this is just something that I do, but that I found gamechanging. Be sure to pre-roll 5-7 encounters for each session, for the general area the players are going to be headed in.

Note that you don't need to really prep anything at all, just interpret all of them on a surface level as a buffer.

Also note that you don't need to use all of them if they're not needed. The foreshadowing and signs are worldbuilding and having secrets that the players don't unravel is just as useful as the ones that they do, perhaps even moreso. It adds depth and detail beyond the scope of what the party will encounter

It simply let's you get an idea of the connections between encounters, allows for foreshadowing, and acts as a deterrent to getting caught off guard.

Even if you roll mid-session, I recommend calling for a 5 minute break, rolling 5-7 encounters at the same time and interpreting them and their connections before resuming the session.

It WILL make a difference, trust me

Where to start?

It can be difficult getting inspiration or direction to get started in creating these random encounters, and sometimes you don't want to go through the hassle of thinking them up from nothing

For some great conceptual headstarts and examples for these tables, you can check out 'Worlds Without Number' and it's:

- Page 205 (Great general templates for encounters differentiated by broad creature types such as Beasts and Monsters, Sapient Monsters, and Humans)

- Pages 206-219 (For inspired locations to occasionally run rare encounters or groups of encounters in. This works best with flexible/discovered worldbuilding given the significance of some of these, and you also want to add these in sparingly to keep them significant)

- Pages 246-247 (These pages have great templates for the kinds of encounters and situation to be included in the tables, and it can be expanded vastly, and certain options can be selectively and repeatedly chosen to meet our needs. Mood works well as a complication.)

There might be other pages that are useful as well for these sorts of random encounters in the wilderness that I haven't come across yet. If so, give them a shout out and I'll be sure to add them in. It's worth checking it out in its entirety for some great tips!

Conclusion

Again, credit goes to Dungeon Masterpiece and Worlds Without Number for excellent adjustments. This has been quite long, but I hope you stuck around till the end.

Many a session have been made easy but complex ever since this was introduced and I hope that this helps you out as much as it helped me in my prep and improv!

Feel free to give any advice in formatting on Tumblr, or any feedback on the post itself. It really means a lot to me, thanks!

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Somebody (okay like a lot of people) said being attracted to a character makes it hard to be objective about them. So, for science (eh, for fun) I have interviewed a lesbian with nearly 3000 hours in Baldur's Gate 3 with questions about Astarion:

Q: Hi. I know you are a lesbian, but that doesn't preclude being attracted to Astarion, so let's also establish objectivity according to the experts. Are you attracted to Astarion at all?

A: No. It's kind of devastating to me because I love vampires. But apparently they do have to be lady vampires.

Q: Perfect. Have you ever tried to romance him anyway?

A: I started a couple of games with the intention of romancing him. It never worked out. I always end up with Shadowheart. Or Lae'zel.

Q: Do you like him, as a character?

A: Yeah. He's great.

Q: Ever kill him in any of your playthroughs?

A: Only to resurrect him, to see his lines. But I've never permanently killed him.

Q: Why not?

A: Because I like his story. I don't always enjoy talking to him about his story, because he's a bit much. But I want him to have that development and see it through. Be happy and free! Fuck Cazador. What a bitch.

Q: Is he an asshole?

A: Yes, but he's a lovable asshole. As much any of the others. Well, some of the others. Let's be fair.

Q: What's his alignment like?

A: I don't understand DnD alignment.

Q: For the record, have you played DnD?

A: Yes. I still don't get it. I have played for years now and this is all I know: lawful tends to equal "the worst in your group." There are exceptions though, like obviously I love Shadowheart, even though she starts off pretty strictly obeying Sharran dogma. Chaotic means "fun." Most party members in any given campaign say they are one thing but then act as true neutrals. And if you participate in a torture session with a DM controlled NPC and you forget to ask any questions, then your alignment will get shifted mid campaign. I learned that recently.

Q: I have no comment on that besides that maybe you should have listened to the bard in your party telling you this was stupid and pointless?

A: I wasn't running the torture session, I just held her still! I'm an accessory. I'm a barbarian, I can't be expected to think shit through or pay any attention to you when you speak.

Q: ...So can Astarion fall in love?

A: He's perfectly capable of that.

Q: If you had to guess his sperm count...?

A: Why would anyone ever care about that? Even if he were a real person? Why would anyone give a shit? Is this really a talking point? Fuck. I hate you guys. Just play the game.

Q: Whose your favorite companion?

A: Shadowheart.

Q: Tell me what you like about her?

A: The process of getting to know her, delving underneath that shell of secrets. She's so strong and sweet even through she can't easily show it right away because of all the bullshit she's been taught. In early access, when I couldn't get her out of the pod, either because that wasn't an option in the game yet, or I was too stupid, I've never figured it out, I was devastated. I didn't even know her yet, but I was so in love from the very beginning.

Q: Aww, that's really nice. What character do you think you are most like?

A: Karlach and Lae'zel. Maybe more Karlach, but definitely both. Not that Karlach isn't great, but I wish I was more like Lae'zel.

Q: And I should probably end on an Astarion question again since that was kind of the point. What about him do you find relatable, assuming that's anything?

A: I totally relate to wanting to put up a front to protect yourself. Can't relate to the method at all but the motivation is solid. Also, even though I have never romanced him, I have seen his DTR dialogue, and I really love it. I love how honest he is about his feelings. It's not romantic to be uncertain, but he doesn't care about that anymore, because he's just being totally transparent. It might seem weird that I would say that while being down bad for the least transparent character in the game, but that's a trait I personally value in myself more than a partner. Don't get me wrong, it would be nice, but for me I really try to be honest about what I am feeling. You can't DTR with Shadowheart really, the equivalent would be the stupid "you've never been in a relationship like this have you?" dialogue option which is never what I would say irl, but it's all I get in the game, and I think she's telling the truth when you have that conversation. With Astarion, it's so obvious. He's so obvious. I'm like that. I think it's very cool that you see that development in him, going from lying to survive to just being totally readable. Whether you're romancing him or not, by act three you know exactly what he's really about. Or if you don't, you haven't been talking to him, or like failed all your insight checks or something.

Q: Thanks! You were great. Anything to add?

A: Shadowzel forever.

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/744363402559995904/reading-the-anon-abt-the-doll-hobby-not-having#notes

More BJD wank.

People using alcohol markers on their dolls. Just... don't.... don't do that. Also, people complaining that the alcohol marker doesn't wash off the doll anymore. Yeah, who'd have guessed that using alcohold markers on a highly porous material would end up not being removable. Also, don't use oils. Do not use any paint strippers that contain oil. And only use water soluble glue.

People who sell some of the most beat up looking dolls, chewed limbs, broken pieces, yellowed to hell and back. And then expect $$$ and even more than full price of a new doll. Generally it's not particularly offensive, but by the Gods if it doesn't get obnoxious when someone starts whining that nobody wants to buy their trash heap.

The fujoshi discussion was also quite ripe. It's no secret that probably 80%+ of the regular BJD hobby is women, and a lot of those women like men. The fujoshi discussion gets brought up ever few months? Years? And it's stupid every time. I remember the most recent incident being started again by a transman who took special offence to the large amount of M/M doll couples, and started getting angry when people dismissed his very misogynistic reasons as to why it's bad. Then tried to flip it around to homophobia and transphobia against him specifically, when all the people just told him to stop treating fujoshi as an insult and blah blah, you know the drill. People didn't buy it that he didn't just wanna admit defeat, but it kinda fizzled out when some other trans people entered the discussion, and some gay/bi men who also said that this was a stupid discourse. Also a few pretty heartfelt experiences by women explaining why they preferred male dolls over female dolls.

"Put a trigger warning on your amputee doll characters." Not a big discourse, but a few people talked about how they had gotten comments or DMs about tagging their dolls who represent amputees with trigger warnings. General consensus was "Fuck those people." To make this extra clear, these were just amputee characters, not horror or gore.

Did I mention Nazi dolls? Because there has been several rounds of drama around Nazi dolls. Most people agree that Nazi dolls, aka full Nazi uniform with the armband are a huge fucking no-go.... BUT, some people try to argue that "Well if you depict the doll as a disgusting pig wearing a Nazi uniform..." Yeah, that was a long wank session.

The honestly kinda an pointless argument about "Are you racist if your dark resin doll face-ups look ass?" The argument is basically around dolls with dark resin tones who receive... unfortunate face-ups. The issue here is that in many cases the people getting called racist are really just bad at doing face-ups, which is especially hard on dark resins because it's hard to layer colors without it looking ass if you don't know what you're doing, and the main medium is just pastel chalks. Combine that with sealants that might leave behind a whiteish sheen with the topcoat, and you end up with a real ashy dusty looking mess. While we're on face-ups, generally a lot of face-ups just objectively look like ass when you're not a professional face-up artist. It's just what happens when you don't know what you're doing and still learning, because you don't wanna spend $$$ on sending it to an actual artist. It's really fucking hard layering colors, and then painting over it to get details when you're just not that experienced yet.

Also thanks to the one person in my last anon mentioning "Dollshe" and his wait times: Dollshe is a doll maker who's infamous for his year long wait times, and constant "sales." Apparently the dude bought himself a big fancy car, while people were still waiting for their dolls. Some wait times have exceeded half a decade. Guess what though! People still decided to take the chance. He's apparently closed shop now, and there are probably high double or low triple digits of people who haven't gotten their dolls yet. Not sure what his average price point is/was, but a quick check, the front page is filled with dolls starting at 800 going up. (So like 700-1 500) https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/744582859159945216/744363402559995904reading-the-anon-abt-the-doll-h#notes Also, yes, Anon is 100% correct. Smartdolls are basically just considered "honorary" BJD's because they fall under the same idea as the VOLKs dolfie dreams, and their creator just copied the idea. But generally, most people wouldn't refer to SMD's when speaking about BJDs, unless specified. Since they are vinyl you do not have the same artistic freedom as you have with resin dolls, which you can customize heavily with various mediums. They also aren't as available for custom face-ups, and apparently the creator has a bit of an ego problem when it comes to that as well. Another piece of drama: The joints of these dolls are internal skeletons as already explained. The problem a lot of people faced is that the joints would break quickly during posing. Under normal circumstances you'd maybe assume you could get some customer service to replace the broken joint, or at least be able to buy one for free. WRONG. You had(have?) to buy the entire skeleton just to replace one broken joint. I also think there was a time where you couldn't even get a replacement skeleton, and were left with a broken doll. Fun fact: Originally the "Smartdolls" were also supposed to be robotic, that's what the "Smart" originally referred to. That then got downgraded to a concept doll that got a bit of automated head shaking and limb moving, which then ended up with the creator backtracking and claiming "Smart" stood for "Social media art doll." Also, while we're at it, he also made a cochlear implant disability device for his dolls. A pretty significant amount of HOH/Dead-BJD people criticized the inclusion of said device because of some medical issues of it. And guess what! Banhammer. I also re-checked the story of the disabled person who got banned, and then made the creator post a "They aren't made for disabled people." The doll the disabled person struggled with was a male doll, but because the male dolls were so rare, they didn't have a male skeleton, but the female standard. Meaning the skeleton inside the male doll shell was female, and the skeleton didn't properly match up with the vinyl male-doll shell. Which was one of the main reason they struggled so badly to reattach the limbs. Bonus story: The creator has a real culty following, he has/had joined a few facebook groups around smartdolls. Apparently people noticed a pattern that he'd throw random tantrums in the groups, leave, and then the entire group had to grovel and praise him to get him to rejoin.

--

[dungeonsandkobolds]

So- Uhm hi! So so sorry if this is a bother, but I noticed you answered some questions about DnD, and me and my siblings have been trying to get into playing.

We decided I'd be the DM, and I've been doing a fair bit of research. I was wondering if you had any tips for a beginer DM? I just really want to make sure I do a good job! Of course feel free to ignore me! I don't want to be a bother!

Have an amazing day/night!

Omg so sorry it's taken me forever to answer this but I do have a few top tips (and also I tag a lot of helpful things as 'DM resource', 'DM tips', 'DM advice', or 'Dungeon Master' on my blog)

Tips are:

Being a DM is like any performance - no one knows how it's meant to go except you. Don't stress if things go to plan, if you go with whatever's happening it often ends up being more fun. And if you're a bit flexible, no one will be able to tell that things went off plan in the first place

Have a session 0 where you establish expectations and build characters - doesn't matter how well you think you know each other, this is always helpful. Also establish a safe method people can provide feedback/raise concerns with you

In the session 0 also establish that you want them to tell you what things went well lol - this helps you cater to what everyone wants but also combats something I think is commonly termed like 'DM drop' or something (where you're flying high during a session then get mad anxiety afterwards)

Don't feel pressured to do things like any DnD podcast/show!!! People like Matt Mercer and Brennan Lee Mulligan are literally paid to DM! They have way more time, experience and support that you do! I even disagree with how they rule things from time to time. DM for you and your table - you'll find your own DM style in time

It takes a while to get a hang of things - and that's fine. I only really fully hit my stride with my current group last year (we've been playing since 2017 or 2019 depending on how you're counting)

Start simple!! Do something fun and silly for the first session. You can get imaginative later, make things easy on yourself

Anyway I hope this is helpful! Feel free to ask more questions for sure! DM-ing is fun and I love it haha

[aquadestinyswriting]

Writeblr Re-Intro

Hi folks, it's been a while. Life has been pretty hard the last few months, but I'm ready to come back to the community and get back to posting. I apologise for the readmore here, but this is quite lengthy. I'm up for tag games and asks of all types, though I may take a bit of time to respond at times. Please DM me if you want to be added to any of my taglists.

I'm Aquadestiny, or Aqua for short, I write almost exclusively fantasy based on an old D&D campaign that took place in the world of Fighting Fantasy. Said campaign has been given the title 'Destiny's New Servants' and was the second D&D campaign I ever took part in as a player, then halfway through it became my first experience as a GM. The campaign was played using 3rd edition D&D as the ruleset, so much of the way I write has been partially informed by the mechanics of that system. I have been given the blessing of several of the other players of that campaign to use their characters in my writing and the full blessing of @druidx to use her characters and referencing some of her writing in my work as we both write for the same setting. Full credit will always be given if this is the case in any given piece of writing I do.

My work goes through the whole spectrum of experiences from cute and fluffy to heart-rending angst and pretty much everything in between. A good amount of the things I write are either: Dramatisations of campaign sessions, or pre/post-campaign stories that help to further character development and/or the worldbuilding.

Although all of the work I post here is interlinked in some fashion (my masterpost contains links to everything) my WIPs can be split into 5 main camps:

The Wizard's Tale: The story of the Destiny's New Servants campaign as seen through the eyes of my very first roleplay character, Selene Frigidwake, who became an important NPC. Expect a whole lot of angst and unresolved trauma stemming from my first campaign as a player with this one.

The Trouble with Meredith: The backstory of my second roleplay character ever, Meredith Gruksdottir. This story is a little more light-hearted and tells the story of how Meredith even ended up becoming a Player Character in the Destiny's New Servants campaign. There's still some drama and angst, but it's not quite as prevalent.

Destiny's New Servants- Fangthane's Folly Edition: Contains dramatisations of the Destiny's New Servants campaign story from Meredith's perspective, as well as other stories detailing the goings on back in Fangthane during the campaign that happened 'offscreen'. This one runs the whole gamut, but there's a lot of angst and drama seeing as this is based on a D&D campaign where the original GM was a huge fan of both.

Titan Fighting Fantasy Modern AU: This is currently a working title. This is basically what it says on the tin. This is an alternate universe story set in a modern version of Titan, taking place around the 90s.

The Ouroboros of Destiny: This is a collection of stories based around the current campaign I'm running in the setting. The series mostly follows Meredith's youngest son, Llachlan, and covers mainly the backstory of this current campaign and some of the goings on behind the scenes of events occurring during it. This has angst galore, so buckle up.

I also have pages specifically for worldbuilding and for my character profiles if you're interested in either and I also have an AO3 if you would prefer to read and leave kudos/comments there

[sagesariadnd]

Dungeon Master Red Flags

I've seen so many RPG Horror Stories about behavior from DMs that new players let slide and/or get turned off from D&D (or other TTRPG systems, but I usually see it in D&D) because they think it's how the game is supposed to be played.

Just giving it to you straight: if you're uncomfortable, talk to the DM or leave the table. The game is meant to be fun, and if you're not having fun or feel uncomfortable or threatened at the table, it is not worth it and that is not how the game is supposed to be played.

So here is my list of red flags to look out for when playing with a new DM. Feel free to reblog and add to the list, and I'll have one for player red flags in the future. Some of these can still work out in the end - sometimes DMs make mistakes out of inexperience - but they are at the VERY least things to be wary of and keep your eyes peeled; if things don't improve, then you have a bad table.

does not have a session zero, or at LEAST a pre-game period in discord or similar where you can do session zero tasks such as meeting the players, establishing table rules and boundaries, and discussing the kind of character you want to play

starts session one but calls it session zero - session zero is for game setup and character creation. if you start playing the game, you are no longer having a session zero.

does not give direction, especially if any direction you try to take is the 'wrong' direction

rejects multiple character ideas for arbitrary reasons

insists that you MUST play a certain race, character, gender, etc.

gender or sex targeted house rules (IE: "charisma is at disadvantage while on your period," "roll for dick size," or "all female dragonborn are sex workers")

criticizes your character concept or in-character decisions

NPCs try to seduce you and either won't take no for an answer or will force the issue with charm, fudged dice, skipping ahead, etc.

does not stop harassment from other players or at least pause the game to make sure everything's okay

does not introduce your character as soon as possible, leaving you sitting at the table doing nothing

enemies exclusively attack you for reasons that can't be justified in-character (obvious tank, they saw you casting spells, you're carrying something you know they want, etc.)

immediately takes away abilities or items you were excited about

scoffing at or mocking safety tools

does not consult with you for major character changes (such as alignment changes or losing powers), or doubles down if you address displeasure with it after the fact - you as the player should be braced for bad things to happen, but if your character is going to be massively overhauled for story reasons, it should be a conversation.

punishing characters in-game for out of game behavior instead of talking to the players

favoritism of one character over the others (only focusing on this character's backstory, only ever finding loot this character can use, etc.)

Main Character DMPCs - I don't dislike DMPCs the way others do because I think they CAN be done properly, but if the DMPC is the center of attention in literally EVERY scenario, then that is bad DMing.

deliberately putting you in constant unwinnable situations just so a DMPC can swoop in to rescue you (see previous bullet point)

Rolling a natural 20 is only met with "you fail."

getting angry if you come up with clever plans

"We're going to be the next Critical Role!" or comparing themselves to Matt Mercer - Critical Role is awesome, but you should not be expected to play exactly like them or be the same level of quality of roleplay or production

Openly hates a class or race but allows you to play it anyway - this is a one-way ticket to being targeted and antagonized in game. If they hate this race or class, they should just not allow it in their game. They ARE in fact allowed to do that.

none of your choices are permitted or matter - there is a massive difference between a linear game and railroading. Railroading is not the presence of a path, it's the absence of choices.

lets the session grind to a halt because players missed something, failed a roll, or genuinely have no clue what to do

adheres to RAW, historical accuracy, or other Hard Rules to the point where the game isn't fun anymore

plays the game like a character meat grinder without warning you of this being their playstyle

punishes you for making a choice offered in game, then criticizes you for making that choice at all, especially if you were "supposed" to do something else

"cutscenes" - sometimes you'll WANT to just listen to the DM's narration and let it play out, but if you're not allowed to interact with a scene at all because the DM is treating it like a cutscene in a video game, that's a red flag and an actual example of railroading.

[pathetic-gamer]

okay here's my hot take: D&D is a game about dungeons not the hero's journey.

Mechanically, it's about dungeons. This has been true from the very beginning, and remains true, regardless of what WotC says in their marketing. The culture can shift, and the goals and expectations players have when they gather a group and sit down to play can be anything under the sun and that's good, that's great, I want people to have fun!

None of this changes the fact that the rules of the game are designed to facilitate combat encounters (and traps and riddles and puzzles and such that you would find in a classic rpg dungeon). And it's not really a rules-light system in the first place ("smh noob, 5e has nothing on 2e with THAC0-" shhh, its okay. take my hand. let's make space vehicles in GURPS 3e together.), people just have a level of cultural familiarity that makes them think it is and thus that they can get by without reading the PHB when the extent of their knowledge is actually just "roll the big one to do stuff."

Of course you can tell a good story while you play! Of course you can have fun! It doesn't have to be nothing but rules and arithmetic all day every day - what I'm saying is just that vast heroic fantasy narratives are secondary.

So what do I mean when I say it's about dice-rolling?

I mean that the same thing that keeps combat interesting (a single d20 leads to lots of volatility and means crits are uncommon enough to be exciting, but common enough that someone at the table is almost guaranteed to get at least one in any given session) makes role-playing difficult sometimes (doesnt matter how persuasive your argument is - a nat 1 persuasion check is a nat 1 persuasion check).

I mean that at the end of the day, whatever funky character work you want to do has to work with the game's mechanics. As fun and interesting as it would be to play a sneaky little trickster of a cleric, you simply will not have the dexterity or charisma to successfully steal that plot-important key while seducing the innkeeper.

I mean that the mechanics of the game, especially for DMs who aren't professional actors or improve comedians, are meant to support and reward clever fighting, not clever debates. Skills, abilities, class features - all of these assume your energy will be focused on fighting. It takes a lot of flexibility, homebrew, and house-ruling to move around that.

There are other games that are meant to facilitate really good rp, though! There are rule systems that are elegantly structured around soft skills and encourage cleverly handling social encounters, or systems with much more class flexibility to enable something like a trickster cleric to exist from day one.

So anyway. I say all of this as someone who loves lot of different ttrpgs, D&D 5e absolutely included, but you'll have so much fun exploring the vast world of ttrpgs if you would just let a game's rules inform how you play, and find a ruleset that matches your goals.

[bunnygirl678]

Okay team…

Going on a hiatus for all writing and for the most part tumblr, might still be some lurking and I’ll have my queue going butttttt

Had my first physical therapy session today, and it’s a lot worse than I was thinking it was, I have three sessions a week rn and have to completely change my set up

I now have to use a standing desk (I got an under desk treadmill to go with it! Gonna be back in marathon shape by year end my dudes), luckily no surgery is expected! Woooo

I might try to write some but between work and being on pain killers and muscle relaxers nothing I’m outputting is any good, I’m no bukowski… or Hemingway…. Or any of the other drunk writers lol

Really sad cause I had some fun stuff in the pipeline

Probably going to be a little rusty when I get back into it buttttt

I vibe with my therapist, an older dude who kept calling me sugar, made my southern ass feel at home lol, it was funny he was attempting to massage a bit but I kept inadvertently twitching he said my nerves are in high gear and asked how I’d been doing this for 3 week lmao (remember when I had pneumonia for 3 weeks and was effectively just ignoring it lmao see a pattern here)

I had my Pokemon backpack, and shoes, and a black Pokemon shirt and he was telling me his son was really into it, and I’m like cool cool thinking he’s talking about like a 6 year old, nope 23, I felt more comfortable after that, his son apparently just got back from Japan

He gave me a bunch of home work and told me baby steps, lol not something I’m good at

But he was really understanding of my work and the fact that I can’t just not work lol (ngl my company wouldn’t make it a month without me)

Idk my dudes I might be a bit high rn

Don’t expect anything exciting from me.

But feel free to shoot me messages on discord or dm here or ask for my email like it’s 2006, I might be a little high tho lol

I love you all, I’ll be here when I can, also don’t turn 30, those fuckers weren’t lying when they say your body starts falling apart!

I just have to be okay for Nashville cause my ass is going to see the Dresden dolls come hell or high water,

[official-dnd-posts]

Acrobatics insight stealth :)

behold! forbidden knowledge:

Acrobatics - have your players ever made you have to quickly rework/improvise an entire adventure?

Not an entire adventure, but I have needed to rework many sessions on the fly because of a player's choice. I wish I had a good example but it just happens so frequently that I don't know where to begin - and I think this is a major part of what makes D&D fun for me as a DM. I LOVE being surprised and caught off guard by my players. I try to prep in a way that makes this possible for players but not overwhelming for me (I wrote and then deleted paragraphs of prep advice in response to this like three times, I could talk about this for days.)

Insight - How do you resolve player conflict?

I'm very lucky to play with the same general group of players, and we have very little conflict (especially compared to the countless horror stories out there). When it does happen, I generally don't have to get involved before the players themselves resolve things. Setting expectations up front for any game is key: we're all here to have fun, together, and never at anyone's expense. Don't be a jerk. Facilitate the fun for others, and you can expect the same back. I've only had to remind players of these rules a handful of times in the past, thankfully. (And I expect my players to hold me accountable in the same way.)

Stealth - Have you ever completely surprised your players?

This is the other side of the Acrobatics question above - I LOVE surprising my players. Imo, surprises should come in a mix between "all the clues were right in front of you the whole time" and "this was completely unexpected". The expanded beginning to Descent into Avernus was a good mix - everyone felt like something bad was going to happen, and then was completely shocked by the scale and severity of how bad the thing was.

Happy surprises are key too, like the sudden appearance of a friendly NPC. Maybe the best one in recent years: early on in DiA, the party rescued a pregnant woman named Dara, whose husband was lost when Elturel was destroyed. They got Dara to safety and she had a healthy baby a few weeks later. A long time passed in the campaign and the party ends up in Hell, where they encounter a guy in the process of crafting a deal with a devil; he's getting ready to sell his soul in exchange for feeding an entire community (a risky act, but a selfless one). The party is obviously against him selling his soul, but are struggling to convince him otherwise; he wants to help his community, the only thing he has left after he lost his family... when Elturel was destroyed.

There was a long pause as the PCs were piecing this together. Then all at once everyone was yelling as they realized this was Merric, Dara's lost husband. It felt like every player was shouting DARA IS ALIVE!! YOUR BABY IS ALIVE!! into their mics (and there may have been some joyful tears def not from me though)

And the deal with the devil was immediately off the table, of course.

[alternazine]

Time for our first "Questions and Answers" session!

I, Rebi, will be your guide. You are in good hands! Here, us scientists will resolve all doubts. Remember you can ask us anything via our Curious Cat, Twitters DMs, Tumblr ask-me-anything or email. Now, let's begin! . . .

«The following questions belong to our: INTEREST CHECK.» 1.- "What is this even about?"  R = 'Utopia of Yesterday' is a free zine dedicated to Alterna, the setting of Splatoon 3's Hero Mode. Our contributors will work on an assigned kettle for their zine assignment, which can be an art work or a piece of writing. 2.- "Would a portfolio be absolutely necessary to join as an artist of any kind?" + "Are there any requirements/expectations when presenting our portfolio?"  R = Per our guidelines, a linkable and viewable portfolio is needed for our contributor applications. It can be done in any way you like and contain how many pieces you want that show us your work! Your portfolio doesn't need to have Splatoon samples but it is encouraged. As well, we expect to see 1 background example. Portfolios with NSFW, suggestive illustrations or (heavy) gore won't be accepted nor taken into consideration, ending in an instant rejection for the applicant. 3.- "What does it mean exactly to be a supporter and what do they do?"  R = A supporter is a person who supports yet does not contribute to the zine as an artist or writer would do! They normally share the zine's posts, talk about it with their friends, or maybe even just follow us. These are just some ways of being a supporter! 4.- "What's a Spot Piece?"  R = A "spot piece" is a small artwork dedicated to fill the empty space and complement the bigger picture of the zine's layout and design, usually found alongside the writing. 5.- "Is there a consistent theme or set of characters artists can draw or is it more customizable?"  R = It is more customizable! In 'Utopia of Yesterday' we allow our contributors to draw/write about any set of characters, be it sea creatures as inklings or maybe even humans long ago when they lived, as long as it is in the setting of their assigned kettle/site. 6.- "r u guys gonna have mod applications tee hee"  R = No, we will not. The current staff team is able to take care of all needed areas. Thank you for the interest! 7.- "If someone did get suggested [for Guest Artist], would the team ask if they're interested directly or leave it up to fate and hope they apply?" R = Something like that! Once we decide who to invite to participate in the zine based on the suggestions given in the Interest Check, we reach out to them via the zine social media! It's up to them if they accept our invitation or not. ----- «The following questions belong to our: CURIOUS CAT.» 1.- "Are there any zines formatted by a host that I can see? Although they have been involved in many zines, I can't see any projects that are finished and show me the quality of formatting that this zine will have. Sorry if this sounds rude!! but I am genuinely curious TT" R = Tari, one of the hosts and our formatting mod, has been mainly involved in zines as a contributor. Most of their formatting work is personal/private, but there will soon be a public example! This Monday 29th, the zine Classified Love will be released to the public freely. It is a project about love made with love. We highly recommend you to go check it out and support everyone's hard work! 

. . . This has been all for today. We thank you all for the constant interest and support. Now, I must go back to the lab... Please stay on the lookout for our next "QnA" session! See ya~ « Art by @calatarii. Graphics by @rebiisea. All rights reserved. » « Information Hub: https://alternazine.carrd.co/ »

[catsidhesilvie]

So in my D&D campaign, Zilvra the feylost drow druid-turned-warlock with fey-induced amnesia has had a lot of character development! She is so fun and my favorite ;v;

Our group adopted/saved/kidnapped(?) an orc, who is now a sort of apprentice for our cleric. This session, they were working on teaching him to read before bed, lol. Someone asked how tall he was at some point, and we realized that, with how tiny drow are, Zilvra and the orc would have a tiny evil lady/himbo henchman vibe going on, and the cleric immediately shipped it. I leaned into it, and it has been hilarious.

Unfortunately for her, one of her parting "gifts" from the feywilds was that any flower wilts in her presence, so..... haha.

We also had the big reveal from the DM this week that she was actually a Lolth-following drow before being fey-napped!

I had told the DM in session 0 that I am totally open to anything he wanted for her backstory with my framework, be it naturally good drow or traditional Lolth drow who learns to accept outsiders after the experience, but he had suggested that I go ahead and throw an idea at him. I went with a modern Eilistraee-following drow backstory who lived with an above-ground druidic circle, so that she wouldn't seem too edgy. But the DM apparently had other plans and it was SO GOOD because I/the other players did NOT expect it at all!

We met another drow at the end of the session who recognized her, leading to exposition where we learned she had been sent from the underdark to get druidic assistance in ending a war against mindflayers. She was instead caught by fey for 200 years and failed her mission, leading to the destruction of their city :O But the matron of her house survived, and recently returned to their old home to try to rebuild....

So now she knows that, while she was a druid (circle of spores), she was not a particularly friendly one, and she has -angst- about what she will be like when she completes the mission assigned by her unknown fey patron and her memories are returned. Does she stay an adventurer? Does she return to her home in the underdark? Does she turn against her party? Or have they changed her?

I'm so flipping excited for this campaign. I love the other players/characters and the DM has put in so much work. I'm gonna be sad when we finish this campaign since it is only supposed to go to level 6 :')

[crowkip]

hi there!! i came across your art recently and love how you simplify forms for your style!! Do you have any tips on what you did to learn art and develop your current style? Did you take figure drawing lessons or just hyperfixate on an anime?? Any materials/exercises that were particularly helpful for learning how to draw humans? Thanks for your time!

thank u so much!!! i do have some handy info but im gonna put it under the cut so it doesnt clog up ppl's feeds bc it's gonna get a little long, hope this helps out!! ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)

ok so!! my top tip is to try out some life drawing classes! you'll often be expected to capture a full body gesture in 5-15 minutes which really helps you learn break the body down into its simplest forms since you wont have time to work on all the details. i only ever did a few sessions since they were part of a design course i was taking but even that alone definitely helped me streamline my process when it comes to planning out poses and making sure things arent looking too stiff

as for developing a style i honestly dont have a super clear answer bc i still find that i feel like my art is vERY very inconsistent, but even with that being said i do still have a few things that've helped personally!! easiest place to start is finding the tools you enjoy working with, for me i have a handful of brushes in csp that i tend to default to which helps form a little bit of consistency across my drawings (ofc dont be scared to branch out!! it's just handy to know what brushes work best for you). the other thing that's influenced my style is reading lots of comics and spending a lot of time looking at other artists' sketches, if you see a specific feature you like in their work try giving it a go yourself!! i remember noticing the contrast of soft and hard shadows in old oil paintings a few years ago n thinking 'ooh ive gotta try that' and ive been using it on my own art ever since. in the end your own style is greatly just a reflection of little things you've loved seeing in other peoples art and once you combine all those you end up with smth uniquely yours which i just think is awesome tbh

and as for shows n stuff that got me drawing, i dont have the coolest answer but as a kid i got super into drawing my friends as my little pony characters lmao i would spend every minute between classes drawing these stupid little rainbow horses and it actually really got me into picking out colour palettes and helped me build up that muscle memory which was what led into me drawing things that were a little more challenging. even if whatever motivates you to draw is considered kind childish or 'cringy' or whatever, dont stop drawing what you enjoy!! i wouldnt be drawing now without the years of pony doodles on homework as a kid and im glad i embraced it. i hope this can be helpful to you, so sorry for the long read but thanks for getting through it all!! good luck as dont be scared to dm me if you ever have any questions, i'll always do my best to help out :D