#this game is just. designers doing whatever and not realizing this might lead to a shallow world

[rawliverandgoronspice]

While I completely agree with everything Bloo said, I am... I also feel like there is a competing possibility for the placement of Ganondorf's glyph, and while it absolutely does not erase the implications or the fact that it does punch down this story of repetence and villification and "dark origin story", as the devteam would consider it (I think it might have been part of the argument within the team), I also think there's a more... down-to-earth, designer-brain case at play here. I might be totally offbase, but for having interacted with a LOT of designers who think practically about things and are both uninterested and very perplexed by the necessity of storytelling and its priorities, I think the placement choice may have gone something like this:

"Hey, wouldn't it be normal to put a Ganondorf memory near Gerudo Town, since he's gerudo? It would just make sense that players would go look for memories related to Ganondorf near Gerudo Town, right? And then it's important to have the glyph be visible from all nearby landmarks to encourage the player to go from interest point to interest point."

I think it was literally all the designers considered in their choice of placement honesty. Why wouldn't they. They apparently didn't hire narrative designers/game writers/quest designers/anyone with narrative sensitivity to keep the design team from going with their first obvious game designer instinct over and over and over, never once stopping to think about the ingame or "watsonian" implications of any of it --instead their choices are almost systematically guided by progression, affordance, impact, and "wouldn't it be cool if". I think this particular instance is a great example of that "designer brain" tendency --but the whole game is like that, which is why I'm so grumpy that they thought narrative skill was but an optional flavoring they could skip with no consequences. I don't think anyone in this team considered the way the glyphs would or even *could* impact the NPCs in the world beyond vaguely Impa and the NPCs that serve as pointers going "activity over there!!" as their core function.

It's exactly as Bloo said: these barely qualify as Zelda's memories. The entire framing is poorly thought out, and I think game mechanics is truly the only thing driving most of the decisions taken in this game.

do you ever warp into Gerudo Town, look straight ahead, and draw some unpleasant conclusions about the connection between that geoglyph and the Gerudo tendency to bear guilt for Ganondorf’s actions even thousands of years into the future? Like, assuming that for some time the geoglyphs were visible before disappearing until the Upheaval, that sure is a “look at this guy you made who sucked so bad and will one day be a threat once more” reminder staring the Gerudo dead in the face. and that seems a bit much

[nytb]

If you were mine

Click here first <3

A dinner party leads to a hot encounter with what seems to be a master of all trades, Alexia now filled with lust and desire for more.

“Want to explain why you left in a hurry last night?" Mapi questions her captain, leaving the woman no time to rest after practice ended.

"You know, I could have just wanted to leave"

"If that were the case, Y/N wouldn't have left running after you like there was something to fix" The defender's quick wit taking a hold on the situation "Want to tell me what actually happened?" she smirked.

It wouldn't be implausible that her childhood best friend had laid it on thick on Alexia and it might have somehow backfired. Unrealistic? Yes, but implausible? No.

The midfielder took a quick glance around her, making sure that nobody else would be able to hear her confession.

"God, what didn't happen - " flashbacks from the previous night in her head, smiling from ear to ear.

"Spill it"

"So..." Alexia started "Have you ever not have had to think? Like whatever was happening was meant to happen and it's not like you don't want it to happen so you're just there - happily participating?"

"Ale, I think that you lost me"

"How about you give me another excuse to be around her and I will give you all the details" she smirked, Mapi always loved to know all the gossip, especially when she wasn't involved in it.

"Wait - around wh- " she questioned, only to realize it before finishing her question "You and Y/N?"

"Mhmhm" Alexia nodded, clearly proud of herself.

"Wait so the whole 'you need to celebrate getting a new apartment' thing was a setup?"

"You catch on quick" The midfielder laughed "Sadly, I think that your girlfriend got there first"

Mapi's gossip game was lacking.

"Tell me everything" the defender ran behind Alexia as she made her way to the locker room. The latter turned on her hips, tapping at her friend's shoulder as she punctuated every word "One. More. Excuse." she reminded Mapi of the deal she had previously offered.

It didn't take long for the defender to concoct a plan to trap her childhood best friend in Alexia's reach.

A quick pop up, that her media team would gladly encourage, at a major concert in Barcelona.

"You do know that I hate these things right?" Y/N complained, getting dressed in Mapi's guest bedroom.

"Just think that right after we will go to your favorite sushi bar" the defender, who was sitting on Y/N's temporary bed, said "And if we get real crazy we pop by a tattoo parlor and get a new design on that arm" she smirked.

Clearly Mapi was the influence quiet homebodies begs for.

"I will even skip over the fact that you called Rosalia's concert a thing" she air-quoted the last word "And you should know that that's a serious offense in my book"

Y/N broke in laughter "Sure, because you now listen to the latest music and aren't still caught on the songs your parents still listen to" she mocked.

"Again, I will let that offense slide by" the defender stated "Aren't I an amazing friend" grinning from ear to ear, only to confess the real reason they were heading to a concert.

"Just be aware that this whole thing is a setup"

"Yeah I know, my agent has been grilling me to actually show up this time"

"Oh no cutie, she's not who I'm talking about"

Y/N turned on her feet "You're telling me that you got me to renounce training days just to hook up with one of your friends - again?" This time the boxer didn't sound as happy.

"Yeah because you had such a bad time with them" Mapi mocked "But don't worry, this time I'm not the one that planned who you're meeting"

"I'm not sleeping with your girlfriend's friends Mapi" Y/N crossed her arms, now staring at her childhood friend.

"Loosen up, this is all Alexia's doing."

Y/N's face turned blank, probably thinking about her previous encounter with the Barcelona midfielder.

"Stop daydreaming" the defender threw her friend a shirt "And cover up, you're making me feel frail."

"I have asked you if you wanted to come train with me in the past" she slipped into the tight fitted shirt.

"Yeah, you still need something over that" the defender groaned "Can't have you looking like that."

"Looking like what?" Y/N complained "I always wear this sort of stuff”

"That's the problem" the defender argued "You're always making the rest of us look like potatoes, even us athletes."

"Cheer up, in a couple of years, when all this fighting thing ends I will look just like you." Y/N joked.

"Maybe I should also teach you how to be funny" the defender threw her own dig "For when you can no longer rely on looks to get women"

"I have other traits" Y/N smirked.

"And somehow I think that that's why Alexia is so adamant on seeing you again" Ingrid joined, smiling as she greeted Y/N "What about we actually get going now? I have been keeping watch on that blonde all day - and it's tiring" she joked.

Damn - no wonder Y/N hates these things, people practically glued to one another, screams coming from every direction - this must be what introverts picture hell to be.

Getting greeting and her media press appearances over and done with, Y/N made her way to her VIP gifted tickets.

Being a star with a great agency backing her was a great asset, especially for Mapi as she managed to get a free concert and an easy setup with one single phone call.

"Remind me to thank your agent"

"So you're the one that made this happen" Y/N laughed "You had me thinking that my agent thought I liked this sort of music for a hot minute."

"And what's wrong with this sort of music?" Alexia questioned, shimmying past Ingrid, aiming her question at the boxer.

"Hi, I'm Y/N and I think that I messed up again" she extended her hand out, making a clear reference at their first encounter.

"Funny" Alexia said sarcastically "You should probably get more clothes" she stated "There is nothing wrong about having those peek through every shirt you wear" the midfielder pointed at Y/N's abs "But it's getting a bit repetitive"

"Weird, I was thinking the same thing" Y/N approached Alexia, bringing her into a hug and as she reached her ear she whispered "If you were mine you wouldn't be wearing that right now".

Alexia's excuse of a tank top that barely covered any of her skin wasn't to Y/N’s liking, let alone the short booty shorts she had on - if she was trying to cover the least amount of skin possible she successfully pulled it off.

"Maybe I'll invite you when I go shopping" Y/N disguised her previous statement, allowing herself a quick glance over Alexia's figure "Or send you along my assistant to pick outfits for me" she smirked.

"You have an assistant? Let me give you my assistant's number, maybe they want to be friends" she joked, taking the opportunity to place her hand on Y/N's shoulder.

"Maybe it's me who wants her number"

The midfielder's hand flew to her own abdomen, crossing her arms like a discontented child "I liked you more when you were more action and less maybes" Alexia stated, clearly annoyed at the boxer's previous statement.

Y/N snuck into the midfielder's personal space, slightly taking hold of her hips, moving past the group but not before taking the opportunity to whisper at Alexia's ear.

"Jealousy looks good on you"

And she was off, letting everyone knew that she was on the first drink run of the night.

"What was that?" Ingrid questioned, flustered at what just happened "What actually happened between you girls?"

"A lapse in judgement" the midfielder replied, seeing that Y/N was already being wrapped by someone else's body.

Mapi, followed her captain's line of sight, sympathizing with her situation "It's probably not what it looks like" she stuck up for her childhood best friend.

"Don't" Alexia's cold statement put the defender in her place "She's literally salivating at her for goodness sake"

Y/N's return to the group had the drinks she brought along with a couple of women overshadowed, especially by the Barcelona midfielder.

"Found these two in the pit" the boxer laughed, they were also Mapi's friends.

"OMG I haven't seen you girls in forever" pure enthusiasm in her voice, greeting them euphorically.

“See? Only friends" Ingrid spoke at a tune only Alexia would hear

That probably calmed the midfielder's jealousy for a minute, but she would be damned if it were only her that would be feeling that way tonight.

Dancing with strangers, her hands travelling through another person's body, her own fully leaned into it.

Y/N was fuming.

"You think that this is funny" the boxer approached, clearly pissed but hiding it underneath the coldness of her statement "Come with me" she grabbed Alexia's wrist, taking her away from the concert.

“What!?" the midfielder crossed her arms as soon as they got to a less crowded hallway, stopping Y/N dead in her tracks.

"Don't give me attitude" the boxer warned "I will teach you how to behave" and with that statement Alexia found herself up on Y/N's shoulder as she was carried out of there.

The midfielder fought it at first, but seeing Y/N's determination, and being highly attracted at the possibilities of whatever this was leading towards, she simply closed her grip around the boxer's abdomen. Grinning from ear to ear at her previous performance, clearly over the moon that it worked.

Setting Alexia back on her feet right next to Y/N's car, the midfielder made her way to her car's bonnet, leaning against it.

"No." Y/N groaned "I'm not rewarding whatever that was."

"Oh really?" Alexia leaned backwards, resting her weight on her arms firmly placed behind herself "So what will you do?" the midfielder continued, clearly provoking Y/N, being successful at every turn "Punish me?" she smirked.

The boxer's answer was simple. She made her way to Alexia, settling herself between her legs, she pulled the midfielder by her short's waistline, getting her to stand straight.

"I clearly have a lot of things to teach you"

"What if I don't want to be taught"

"Don't lie now" Y/N whispered at the midfielder's lips "There are better things we could be doing than having this" she pointed between the pair of them "conversation"

"This is a conversation to you?"

"I would rather it not be one"

Y/N placed space between them "Get in" she ordered opening the passenger door.

"And if I don't want to?" she argued.

"I would go over there and make you want to get in"

Alexia leaned back onto the bonnet, yet another provocation. Y/N groaned.

"Have it your way" the boxer closed the door roughly, a loud echo on the underground parking filled the air.

"Don't say that I didn't warn you" Y/N groaned at Alexia's ear "I will have you begging for me to let you enter my car"

A promise that would soon be fulfilled.

The boxer pulled Alexia into a rough kiss, exploring her mouth as the midfielder reached for Y/N's shirt, pulling her even closer.

"No." Y/N stated, grabbing the Catalonian's hands away from her shirt, placing them on the car's bonnet "They stay there" she ordered.

For a while they did but as Y/N nibbled at her ear, unbuttoning the midfielder's shorts, she had no other choice than to break the command given to her.

Alexia tried her best to grab onto Y/N's hair, she wished to pull the boxer’s lips back to her mouth, but Y/N reacted quicker.

Grabbing Alexia's neck, firmly choking her she whispered into the midfielder's mouth.

"So disobedient" she started, placing Alexia's hands back on the bonnet "Let's make it easier for you" she smirked

“You move, I stop."

"No" Alexia argued back.

"I told you not to give me attitude, it wasn't a suggestion."

"Or what?"

"You wouldn't want to find that out." she warned

"Actually, I do."

That ignited a flame in Y/N, Alexia was getting what she so eagerly requested.

The boxer rose her hand, placing two fingers on Alexia's lips "Suck" she ordered and the midfielder gladly obliged "So beautiful" Y/N whispered "What a shame that you're so disobedient" she took her fingers back, lowered them into the midfielder's pants "I will teach that out of you"

"It's more fun this way" she argued back

"I will show you how untrue that is"

Y/N roughly inserted both fingers at once, no warmup this time.

"You move, I stop" she reminded Alexia the simple command she had to follow.

As Y/N expertly curled her fingers inside Alexia, bringing the midfielder into a state of pure lust, the Catalonian learned that rolling her hips - as she looked for release - was getting her nowhere, so she fought against her body's urges, at times struggling with it.

The boxer made it her mission to edge Alexia for as long as possible, ignoring every request for release that slipped the midfielder's mouth.

"More" she begged as Y/N worked her clavicle, roughly sucking on it, leaving hickeys only a few people would see.

"Say you want to get into my car."

"I want to" she whispered as she arched her back, looking for release.

"Beg."

"Please" Alexia whispered into Y/N's mouth, making the boxer stop, placing space between the both of them she walked towards the car’s passenger door “Now wasn't that easy” she opened the passenger door again.

"You're just going to leave me here and stop cold turkey on me?" Alexia was raging.

"I don't reward disobedience" Y/N stated "Now, get in."

The midfielder did just that, buttoning her shorts as she gave Y/N a death stare.

"Did I allow you to do that?" the boxer pointed at the short's button.

Alexia's death stare remained, not granting Y/N an answer.

"So disobedient"

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting the Adventure: Dungeons Without Walls

I love the idea of dungeons, but there was a significant portion of my life as a DM where they didn’t feature in my games. While Pathfinder and 5e provided a great framework for character building and tactical skirmishes that I could build story on top of, neither was really great when it came time to detour into a  dungeon. My players tended to get confused when we headed out to plunder the local ruin or cave system, spending a lot more time figuring out where they were and what they should be doing than actually doing anything. 

The problem as it turned out was limited information.  I had a picture of the dungeon in my head/notes but I couldn’t telepathically infer that to the party, and the back and forth questions where they tried to orient themselves within my mental labyrinth ate up a lot of session time prevented us from attaining that snappy pace that every table needs to keep the players invested.

Recently though I had an epiphany about overhauling exploration in d&d, and wrote up a whole post detailing how you could build and run wilderness adventures the same way you could a heist or a murder mystery. Because I was already writing a series about dungeon design it didn’t take long for me to realize that this exploration overhaul was 100% applicable, and could solve a lot of the delay and confusion my players usually faced on their next trip underground.  Spoilers: it worked amazingly.

 The key to this overhaul was giving my players enough information to see the dungeon as a sort of abstract checklist, and then giving them the power to investigate and check things off that list in whatever order they wished, when they enter a new level of the dungeon they get a new checklist to fill out which still keeps that sense of exploration. Folk love checking things off lists, and I as a dungeonmaster love it when players engage with the content I’ve spent so much energy creating even if it’s only poking their head in the door to realize they want to run away as fast as possible. Likewise, designing the dungeon this way let me tackle much larger concepts without having to sweat the details of filling up every little room as I would have to in map-centric design.

To summarize my exploration mechanic as It applies to dungeons:

During Design: After you’ve got the dungeons’ major concept, you divide it into unique “zones” (essentially what might be levels in a regular dungeon) with an interconnected theme, mechanic, or threat.

Each zone has a number of points of interest, which can be anything from trails to follow, odd sights they might investigate, to full complexes of rooms that you’ve mapped out. You don’t need to map out the points of interest otherwise, they sort of float abstractly within the zone 

When players enter a zone, they become aware of its name and general descriptor, as well as how many total points of interest are in that zone. They also become aware of some points of interest immediately to serve as landmarks and give them a direction for their exploration, but most remain undiscovered until they venture off the path and start checking out their surroundings. Hidden among these points of interest are the doors that lead to zones deeper within the dungeon, encouraging the party to explore in order to progress.

During Play: When the players enter the dungeon, one player is appointed as the surveyor, who’s job it is to keep track of the zones, fill out that checklist, and check things off when the DM tells them that they’ve fully explored a point of interest.

Rather than needing to be aware of the exact room layout, the party just need to know what zone they’re in and what options are available to them, Because this information is delivered in the form of a checklist with empty spaces, the party know exactly how much of the dungeon they’ve explored, what’s left to explore, and when they’ve cleared out an area.

Lets take the image above as inspiration. Say the party is trying to make it up to the tower, you can easily see a progression of zones and maybe imagine a few to go alongside them:

Ruins & Foothills: The first area, filled with the remnants of an ancient civilization. Picked over by looters and now a home to all sorts of wildlife,

Mountainside: The obvious next goal, but locked off behind a challenging climb, Filled with hazards that threaten to knock the party back down to the foothills if they’re not careful

Caverns: Secret area accessible only if the party explore a cave on the mountainside, or make a beeline towards the old aqueduct landmark in the foothills, realizing it might be easier than the climb. 

Spire Foundations: The door connecting to the foothills is guarded by a complex puzzle and arcane ward, but the party might be able to sneak in through the caves where erosion has caused a breakthrough into the cellars.

Spire Peak: High among the clouds, the party’s prize is somewhere here.  Access to the upper sections of the tower are guarded by a territorial sphinx under arcane compulsion, though the party might just be able to skip that fight if they figure out the riddle to make the portal mirrors work in the foundations.

Trying to design all this by pencilling it in on a gridmap would take weeks, to say nothing of the headache it’d cause you trying to make things fit together and fill up empty space with content. Designing it first as a sequence of zones and then filling those out with interesting fights, puzzles, and encounters is the work of an afternoon or two. Likewise, its easy on your players: five zones with six to ten points of interest is far easier to tackle when you can make a checklist and see how much progress you’ve made, despite the fact that the area they’re exploring is quite vast. 

I hope you find this as useful as I have, and if you need a more concrete example of how it might work, don’t worry, I’ll have one of those for you in the coming days.

[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 5

Intro Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 9.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Unprotected intercourse. Sex in a public place. Blood, cuts and bruises. Dressing of wounds. Cockwarming. Mention of stab wound and life-threatening injuries. Assault. Threat of rape.

Summary: Right when you and Pete seal the deal on your relationship, more car trouble and a visit from an ex stirs up drama and pops the blissful bubble you waited so long for.

A/N: 😅 this chapter really got away from me but I had the best time writing it!! I had an idea for part of it and pitched it to the wonderfully supportive @ramadiiiisme who encouraged me to go for it and helped me pull it off, so big thanks to you a million times more 💗 The scene with Mrs. Platt was inspired by a conversation with @stealfromthedevil about her dear grandmother who's cheeky words are included in the dialogue 💗💗

The linked song is one I've been listening to non-stop while writing this chapter and is just so lovely and fits in with all the fluffy bits of not only this chapter, but this series as a whole.

---

It had been a couple of hours since Pete had gone home to shower and clean up after the friendly game with the lads, now sitting in his favourite seat at their table watching the Hammers struggle to get a lead against Chelsea, the match currently tied at 1-1. He would normally care a bit more about it, but knowing you were on your way to meet him there had taken all his focus and energy, feeling more excited to see you than bothered that his team might end the game in a draw, or worse.

He slouched against the old chair with his arm over the back, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it back down and licking his lips.

“Oh, come on! Fucking unbelievable!” he muttered at the screen, the referee pulling an outrageous call against West Ham.

Whatever happened next in the game no longer mattered to him all that much, seeing you walk in the door and through the crowd of people standing between you, his smile growing as he watched you tug your scarf out from around your neck and head over to the bar where you stopped to say hello to Terry and order a drink.

Pete stood and walked over slowly, admiring you from across the room as you chatted with Terry for a moment, your smile making his heart nearly stop when you turned and directed it at him as he reached you.

He said nothing, his grin too large to control any words to come through it, instead opting for a greeting he had been waiting all night to give.

Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned in and kissed you, inhaling with a low moan as he felt you melt into him and release your breath, your hands landing limply on his biceps.

A few people cheered around you, making both of you smile again after you parted from each other, but the need to get you alone was quickly becoming a priority in the realization of how many people were preventing him from doing all the things he wanted to do right then and there.

“Hi, love,” he said warmly, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes making desire stir inside you.

“Hi,” you sighed with a love-drunk smile, the single word a breathy whisper.

Pete bit his lip as he reached for both of your drinks off the bar, nodding in the direction of their table in the corner.

“Come on, gorgeous, we’re over here.”

You were greeted warmly as usual, the spirits of everyone high after the Hammers scored a goal, and with all members of the GSE and their respective partners present to watch the match, little room was available at the booth.

Ned and Ike shifted over to make a spot for you beside Clair and Dave, leaving a space that was too large for your liking between you and where Pete sat in his designated chair, his hands folded together with his elbows resting on the arms of it as he looked fondly at you mixed in with his favourite people.

As much as you loved being at The Abbey enjoying conversations that made your cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so much, the company that Pete kept people you now couldn’t imagine your life without, it was difficult for you to focus tonight, your mind constantly wandering to how the night was going to turn out just as much as your eyes continued to find Pete’s automatically.

It was like he knew everything you were thinking, his blue eyes glowing with a telling want and his looks loaded with insinuation, every swipe of his tongue over his lips or the way he rolled the toothpick that hung out of his mouth teasing you and driving you mad.

You squirmed in your seat, your fingers toying with the soggy coaster that had been spilled on too many times, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from him whenever you felt the heat inside you becoming too much, only to steal another glance a moment later, finding him still looking at you hungrily.

The game was coming to an end, and with the Hammers still holding onto their lead, Pete was more than happy to miss the rest of it in exchange for seeing something he had wanted to all day, and as you slowly trailed your hand down your neck to your chest before reaching for the drink you had nursed most of the night, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Waiting for you to glance over at him again, he watched you intently, imagining your bare form beneath him, pressing his lips against every single inch of you.

Finally, you met his gaze, a sultry look weighing in your eyes, and with a subtle nod toward the door, Pete silently told you it was time to go.

You smiled almost sheepishly, your face seeming to glow in a mix of embarrassment and excitement as you rushed through your goodbyes, your friends all shouting teasing jeers at you in knowing the reason behind your early exit.

Pete winked at you as he shrugged into his tan trench coat, adjusting the collar and tugging it up at the back so it covered his neck, flicking the toothpick he still had in his mouth onto the table.

He took your hand and lead you through the pub with a pride that didn’t go unnoticed by those you passed, finding yourself bashful in thinking that everyone knew what was about to happen based on the look on your face, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning and cast your eyes down at the worn carpet as you made your way out.

The door hadn’t even shut behind you before Pete had you up against the brick wall, his hands holding your waist with a claiming grip as he leaned into you and kissed you breathless, his want for you inarguable.

“Let’s go home,” he said with surety, his smile lighting up his eyes when he stepped away from you, pulling you with him with his hand clasped around yours again confidently.

The walk to Pete’s wasn’t long, but was made longer tonight by how often the two of you stopped to kiss, unable to keep off of each other for the duration it took to land at his door.

There was thankfully no sign of Mrs. Platt hanging around to make comments, the time it took for Pete to fish out his keys and unlock the deadbolt incredibly delayed due to interrupting the process in favour of kissing, your bodies now pressing together more closely and your hands becoming bolder where they roamed.

Pete finally opened the door and walked through it, and after tossing his keys onto the table, turned to grin at you and take your hand, pulling you inside with him.

“Get in here,” he said through his smirk, the playful tone of his voice undisguisable despite how much lust showed in his eyes.

He brought you in against him, his lips teasing yours as he whispered, “I need you.”

You smoothed your hands up the back of his neck as you kissed him, melting when he moaned into your mouth as the sensation of your fingers raking through his hair made him desperate for more, the intensity of the kiss increasing quickly.

Within moments you stood naked in his room, holding each other close while playful kisses were shared and hands began their worship, the excitement and anticipation that had slowly built up to this moment stirring within you.

It was clear that Pete felt the same, his smile unable to be wiped from his face each time you parted to look at each other, and as he moved closer to the bed with you, he tucked his bottom lip in his teeth to try to restrict it.

You sat on the mattress, leaning back on your elbows where he followed closely, crawling over you as you fully laid down in his bedding that lingered with the scents of him and you. His smile turned into a sweet chuckle as you giggled too, having him settle between your legs and laying on top of you making you feel unbelievably elated, the sensation of his readied cock resting against your core solidifying the fact that you couldn’t possibly wait another night.

His expression turned serious for a moment as he peered down at you, a soft groan coming out of his mouth as his cock rubbed against you when he shifted slightly.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked, his voice somewhat shaky with restraint.

You nodded, and spoke with as much certainty as you could have in a moment where you felt on the border of being totally consumed by lust and longing, “Fuck me, Pete.”

He didn’t hesitate, pushing into you with a confident drive of his hips, your head tilting back as you cried out, the stretch of him filling you bare without a doubt the best thing you had ever felt.

Together, you quickly found a pace that suited you both, his thrusts slow and rolling but purposeful, his kisses growing more desperate on the skin of your neck and chest as each minute ticked on.

It took hardly any time at all for your climax to fire up within you, the anticipation of sex with Pete having let the intensity of it lay in dormancy right under the surface only to bring it forth faster than ever, his body linked with yours igniting and awakening every part of you.

You clawed at his back in a signal of your oncoming pleasure as well as a silent plea for more, half of you wanting to experience it immediately while the other half begged to prolong it all.

Clenching around his cock, you couldn’t ward it off any longer, moaning into his mouth as he continued to slam into you in a tempo that sent you to the edge but you could tell was beginning to falter as his climax took him in its clutches.

Your orgasm came through you hard and fast, shattering every inch of you as he followed right along with you, feeling him pulse and swell inside your walls, soaking him at the same time he filled you.

Pete kissed you almost frantically as he slowed his movements in you, savouring every second of being inside you while seemingly starving for more, your whines quieting out in his mouth as his breathing worked to calm to normal.

Emotion overcame him at the thought of never being able to experience this with you, the reality of him almost dying without ever having kissed you or touched you or loved you made his eyes burn, and closing them tight as he parted from your lips, he held your face in his hand and brought his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb moving to pull down your lower lip as you shared more laboured breaths.

You made love again and again through the night, resting between rounds only long enough to recharge, the addiction you had to each other increasing each time.

It was well after three in the morning when you had finally fallen asleep, exhaustion eventually taking over the nagging need for more, the cold comfort of the open window and your bodies wrapped together truly feeling like heaven.

The sound of rain and Pete stirring against you woke you up, making you scoot back against him to get closer to him, his arm that was wrapped around your waist tightening its hold and pulling you in.

He hummed in your hair, his body beginning to wake before his mind fully did, feeling him harden against your bum while his lips lazily kissed down the back of your neck.

A long moan sounded from you as you indulged in the blissful sensation, wriggling against him until his cock was firmly pressed between your cheeks, beginning to rock your hips languidly back and forth until his sleepy kisses turned to warning nips.

“Babe…” his sleepy voice purred in your ear, his lips pulling your lobe between them before his tongue swept along its shell.

“Pete…I need you.” His name fell from your lips in a whimper as your hand took hold of his and guided it between your legs, his fingertips gently stroking your clit until he had you begging for more.

Pete sat up and guided you onto all fours, positioning himself behind you where he gripped your cheeks with his hands to part them while he stroked your folds with the head of his cock.

Despite feeling how wet you were, he was aware how you would likely be sore from the amount of times he’d fucked you already, reaching over for the bottle of lube on the nightstand where he squeezed some out and coated his length until he hissed from the sensation of his own hand and slowly guided himself inside your tight walls.

He watched your hands grip the sheets as he filled you, your fingers relaxing slightly as he pulled back out, only to grip them harder and cry out when he pushed in again.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he muttered, keeping a slow tempo even though he was tempted to quicken it and destroy you.

He heard your soft hum of appreciation for his praise over the pouring rain, everything you did adding up to drive him insane and make him fall more in love with you, suddenly feeling as if being buried inside you wasn’t enough to appease his heart.

Pete wrapped his arm around you so his hand splayed out over your stomach, applying pressure to guide you to sit up and onto his lap, careful to keep himself locked in your cunt.

Spreading the remaining lube onto your clit with his fingers, Pete began to steadily work you, his other hand holding you up while also squeezing and massaging your breasts, his mouth worshiping the space between your shoulder and ear in an intoxicating way that had your head lulling back onto his shoulder.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as a brisk gust blew in through the window, adding to the over-stimulation that assaulted every part of you, doing your best to focus on the fullness of Pete driving inside you as you rocked yourself on his lap.

You reached your arm up and around his head, stroking his hair and gripping at him as you rode him, feeling yourself beginning to lose all control but placing all your trust in him to take care of you just how you needed.

Still holding you firmly against him, he continued to strum between your legs, knowing how close he was getting you from how you subtly tried to escape his grasp and your body convulsed to his touch, feeling your hands tighten on his head and forearm that was wrapped around you to keep you in place.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he panted in your ear, feeling you angle your hips against his hand in order to gain more friction on your clit, chasing your end as he increased the power behind his hammering thrusts.

Quiet whimpers grew at a steady pace as they spilled from your mouth, your whines of pleasure drowned out in your own ears as you focused on the sound of Pete’s heavy breathing and the praises he was showering you with, the pouring rain tapping furiously against the glass panes.

You unraveled together, the way your body tightly coiled before turning limp milking out his climax at the same time, his breath fanning out over your dewy skin as he rested his parted lips on your shoulder and stilled inside you.

Lifting yourself off his lap, you sank onto the mattress on your stomach, closing your eyes as exhaustion completely took over you, a faint smile tugging at your lips when you felt Pete follow, kissing up along your back until he collapsed half on top of you.

He took hold of your hand and brought it to rest between your bodies, kissing your knuckles softly until his breathing began to turn shallow as sleep quickly dragged him into its grasp.

These were the moments you knew you couldn’t live without, willing to sacrifice sleep night after night in order to love and be loved like this, the gratitude that filled you at being the one laying beside him as he slept outweighing any desire to close your eyes and miss even a second of it.

You knocked twice on the door before opening it anyway, letting yourself in just as Pete had told you to whenever you came over, the urgency you felt to get inside and out of the hallway too much to handle even if you weren’t allowed to walk in as you pleased.

Pete gave you an amused look, one of his eyebrows hooking high on his forehead as he placed the pen he had been holding in his mouth and reached for another paper to grade off the coffee table, your laughter sparking his curiosity.

“What?” he asked, letting out his own chuckle at your flustered state as you leaned against the door and ran your hand over your head.

“I was just stopped by Mrs. Platt. She told me she can hear us and to keep it down!”

Pete burst out laughing, shifting on the settee so his arm rested on the back of it to face you more.

“It’s not funny!” you argued, even though you were still laughing yourself, shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you had just had with the crotchety woman in her eighties.

“Oh, it is!”

“Pete!” you urged, as if saying his name would scold him into not making fun of the situation, walking through to the living area where you plopped your bag down on one of the chairs as you passed.

“She actually said, ‘It’s not my place, but do you two ever sleep? All I hear night after night is that bed banging against the flaming wall!’”

Pete only laughed harder, hanging his head back over the sofa where you stood behind it and leaned down to grab hold of his face, begging him to stop laughing before kissing him in order to try to shut him up when he didn’t.

He was still chuckling when you pulled away from him, prompting you to smack his chest as you cursed at him.

“I can’t keep being stopped in the hallway to listen to this poor old woman make comments about hearing us have sex!”

“Ah, she’s just winding you up!”

You turned to walk into the kitchen only to be stopped by Pete’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back to the couch that he leaned over the back of, looking at you with mischief in his eyes that made you melt and suddenly not worry about anyone hearing the things you did together.

“Come on, love,” he purred. “She ain’t heard nothing yet.”

“Is that a promise, or a threat?” you asked, smirking as you freed yourself from his grip and made it into the kitchen, filling up the kettle.

“Both!” he replied, sitting back down on the sofa where he resumed marking his student’s homework.

“I need to take my car back to the mechanic,” you explained, shifting the conversation to something ordinary after a couple minutes of comfortable silence while placing a tea bag into your respective mugs.

“Yeah?” Pete asked somewhat distractedly as he focused on his task.

“Yeah, it's been making a funny noise whenever I accelerate, and it sort of jolts when I shift gear. Hopefully it’s nothing major or expensive, they were meant to be the best mechanic…”

“When are you taking it in?”

“Tomorrow morning. My sister’s going to meet me there and take me to work after.”

“I can do it if you want,” he offered, glancing over at you.

“Nah you’re off the hook,” you smiled, “she’s got some holiday time so I’m off duty being Jack’s chauffeur for a week!”

“Ah, look at you!”

“I know, right? She’s even taking him to practice this week.”

“That means I won’t get to see you there then, nothing good to look at on the sidelines and distract me,” he pouted, making you roll your eyes before pouring the hot water into your mugs.

“I reckon you’ll live.”

“Ah, then Mrs. Platt will just get to hear an even better show than normal when I get back home to you,” Pete laughed, ducking when you threw the tea towel at him.

The drive to Millwall took longer than normal due to rush-hour traffic, but it didn’t bother you as much as it typically would knowing you had a late start to your day that had been approved by your boss.

You pulled into the open bay door of the garage, parking your car and stepping out, giving a friendly smile to the mechanic who had helped you before.

“Giving you some grief, then eh?” he asked through a grin, nodding to your car as he wiped his hands on a rag.

“Yeah, as I said on the phone it’s kind of clunking when I’m shifting and the sound it makes when I accelerate worries me a bit…”

“We’ll put ‘er right, not to worry!” he beamed at you, extending his oil-stained hand to take your keys that you held out for him.

He stared at you for a moment, making you avert your gaze slightly, feeling somewhat uneasy.

“Say, you don’t happen to know the Dunham’s do you?” he asked, his question making your head whip up again in surprise. “Steve and Pete? They’re brothers.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity somewhat guarded, “I do, as it happens…”

The way his smile changed and the shift in his eyes put you on edge and raised your suspicions, but you did your best to remain confident, interested as to why he was asking and how he knew who they were.

“I thought as much,” he nodded.

His response took you back, and you blinked quickly, trying to wrap your head around this whole inquiry.

“Sorry, how exactly do you know them?”

He hesitated, staring you down for a few seconds before answering, almost as if he was being careful to formulate a proper response or like he was unsure how much to tell you.

“...We’re old mates,” he said slowly, his smile not leaving his thin lips.

You nodded, glancing down at the embroidered name tag on the chest of his overalls, the name ‘Martin’ one you wouldn’t forget.

“Right,” he broke the silence, his tone more cheerful in disrupting the somewhat tense air. “We’ll have a look at it and likely get it back to you at the start of next week…give ya a ring when we know what it needs and what the damage is.”

“Ta,” you thanked him, giving him one last look before turning and walking out of the garage, heading to your sister’s car where she was parked on the road out front.

You pulled the handle on the door and sat down into the passenger seat, looking out the window into the shop where Martin stood with another man of equal stature, both of them glancing out in your direction.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Nothing, it’s fine,” you assured her, smiling at her as you put your seatbelt on. “Can we stop for a coffee on the way?”

It was a typical Thursday night at The Abbey, everyone gathering at the table one by one as they flowed in from work, a pint and some laughs with mates seeming to be of the same priority for each hardworking hooligan alike as the week started to take its toll and winded down to an end.

“Where’s Pete?” Ike asked, sitting down beside you with his fresh pint.

“Oh, he’s coaching tonight,” you explained, spinning what was left of your gin and tonic in its glass. “He should be here in an hour or so.”

Ike nodded in confirmation as he took a long sip of his beer, both of you drawing your attention to the Bjorno’s as they walked in with a cheerful greeting.

Dave planted a kiss on Clair’s lips as he stopped at the bar to get the drinks in, letting her continue on to the table where she sat down with a sigh.

“Long shift?” you asked, catching the weary look that she couldn’t easily hide.

She glanced at you exasperatedly, “Oh, don’t even get me started!”

“Here you go, my love,” Dave said while leaning down to place her drink in front of her, kissing the top of her head as he did.

You found it difficult to focus on the conversations happening around you, your attention glued to the small group of women standing at the far side of the bar, the looks they kept shooting your way making you feel uneasy.

“Hey, do you know who they are?” you asked Clair, subtly nodding in their direction as they leaned in over the bar to get closer to Vicky, the barmaid, before all staring back at you again.

“Those tarts?” Clair began. “Yeah, they’re mates of Vicky’s. Bunch of slags.”

You nodded, taking it in but still not having an answer as to why they seemed so interested in you, thinking of all the times you had nice enough conversations with Vicky, or so you thought.

“Pete used to have it off with the blonde one,” Bovver piped up, blowing the smoke from his freshly lit cigarette in your direction as he spoke.

Your eyebrows raised high on your forehead as you took in the information, finally having some clarity as to why these women you had never seen before were obviously unhappy with your presence.

“Fucked like crazy for a few months…” he continued, the iciness of his blue eyes holding something of a threat as he told you.

“Oi! Don’t be like that,” Dave scolded him, shoving his arm. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“It’s true!” Bov scowled, his loyalty to his relations with Vicky clearly extending to her friends over you.

You sighed, trying not to let it bother you, reminding yourself that everyone, including you, had a past, and hoped that whatever issue she had with you would pass soon.

“Right, I need another,” you stated, shaking your empty glass in your hand as you stood.

Just as you anticipated, the daggers coming from across the bar dug into your back, still doing your best to ignore them while waiting for Terry to fix your drink, but that became impossible when the blonde who was apparently an ex of Pete’s slunk over to you and stood far closer to you than you would’ve liked.

“I didn’t think it was true, but here you are,” she began, her accent sloppy from the drinks she had tossed back already, her breath smelling of stale fags and the tartness of the cranberry juice she mixed with her vodka.

“What’s true?” you asked, giving her no more than a sideways glance as you fished the change from your pocket to pay for your drink.

“That Pete is dating a plain, old slag.”

“I’m sorry, and who might you be?”

“I was you only a few months back,” she grinned, her smile vicious and proud in her admission that she had been Pete’s at one time.

You huffed as you smiled, taking your drink from Terry who eyed you up as if offering his help, turning to go back to the table. The thought of him being with someone as vile as her made your stomach lurch, and not wanting to give it any further attention, you ignored her.

“I’m not done talking to you, you soppy cow!” she shouted, her lack of couth on full display to everyone around as a hush fell over the pub.

When you continued on your way over to the group, all of them watching with bated breath to see what would happen next, the satisfaction on Bovver’s face boiling your blood more than she was, her shrill voice sounded out again, making you pause.

“He said I was the best he’s ever had, and I’ll be right here to remind him of that.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the adrenaline making you feel shaky and on the verge of doing something stupid, but instead you neglected to give her the drama she sought and took your seat again, praying that Pete would get there soon.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Dave assured, leaning over Clair who had already offered to fight her twice. “It wasn’t that serious…”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you assured, hoping it sounded genuine or at least believable.

“I mean, they were at it together for a few months…” Keith added in, earning a scolding from both Dave and Swill, making you swallow thickly.

You took a long sip of your drink as you tried to tune out the sound of the lads bickering and the jeers still coming in your direction from across the bar, your eyes closing as you tried to slow your breathing.

After a couple more minutes, you stood and made your way through the bar to the loo, praying no one would follow you, your newfound enemies calling you names as you passed.

Pete finally made it to the pub, strutting through the crowd and desperate for a beer after a long day at work and then coaching out in the cold rain, the sight of his ex leaning what she thought was invitingly against the bar making him scowl as he passed.

When there was no sight of you at the table, he did a quick glance around, distractingly returning everyone’s greetings as he shrugged out of his jacket and sat.

“Oi, what’s she doing here?” he asked Dave, nodding over in the direction of the bar where they continued to stare over at him.

Dave shook his head, “They’ve been causing trouble, pal.”

Seeing Pete’s face fall into worry as he looked around for you again, Dave continued. “She’s in the toilets, she seemed a bit upset…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Pete muttered, standing and going through the pub in quick strides, not giving his ex even a glimpse as he passed.

He pushed open the door to the ladies room more aggressively than he intended, his anger at the situation and that cheap tart upsetting you getting to him, his anger quickly turning to surprise when he saw you standing in front of the tarnished mirror reapplying your lip gloss, appearing fine and unbothered.

“Can I help you?” you grinned, watching him in the mirror with unhidden amusement at his presence.

His head tilted a bit to the side, walking toward you slowly while still assessing you, his concern still creasing his features even though he was smiling back at you.

“They said you were upset…”

You laughed and shook your head, screwing the cap back on your lip gloss before sticking it in your pocket, turning to look at him directly instead of in the mirror, your bum sitting on the edge of the sink.

“Upset? Over those twats? Come on…” you shrugged, trying your best to play it cool even though it had bothered you more than you were letting on.

Pete closed the space between you and leaned his forehead against yours, still searching your eyes for any hints of you being hurt or shaken up.

You let your eyelids close, instantly feeling relaxed from him being close to you, breathing in deeply when he brought his hands up to hold your face.

“We all have a past, Pete,” you whispered, saying it more for your own conviction than his, the frustrated exhale he let out at his past involving that awful slag fanning over your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips moving against yours as they hovered there, teasing a kiss.

“Don’t be sorry,” you answered, your hands trailing up his chest where you took hold of the collar of his jumper and slid the material through your fingers, his body moving closer to yours. “Just kiss me, Pete.”

He did, crashing into you so hard your head was forced back but stopped by his hands still gripping your face, his tongue delving into your mouth hungrily and greedily where you didn’t hesitate to match his fervor.

Everything was rough and desperate, kissing with a need to prove that each other’s lips were the only ones ever worth kissing, your hands pawing and groping in a crazed act of passion.

Pete’s fingers tore at the button and zipper of your jeans before diving his hand inside them, his long fingers stroking through your folds until your wet coated them, your moans reverberating in his mouth as you continued to kiss, your lips moving against each other sloppily and hastily.

After a minute, he withdrew from you, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down your thighs, his steely eyes staring at your exposed cunt as he quickly unfastened his own jeans and pulled out his hard cock before crashing against you again.

You spread your legs as wide as you were able to, giving him enough access to your core where he guided his leaking head, smearing his precum on your clit a few times until you were moaning and begging him to fill you.

Pete happily obliged, pushing inside your tight walls where he paused once he couldn’t go any deeper, kissing you frantically and groaning into your mouth from how good you felt.

Like he lost all sense of control, he slammed in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast while his mouth hung open and panted against yours in his efforts, the sink creaking precariously as you rocked your hips in time with his brutal thrusts, your fingers digging into the back of his neck and shoulders as you held on tight.

You were both so entranced in each other that neither of you noticed the door opening, his ex standing in the doorway in shock of the scene she walked into, scoffing as she turned and left.

“Fuck, babe,” he growled, pulling his face away from yours slightly where he watched his cock slide in and out of you, the sight encouraging him to move even more furiously within you, your cries growing louder as your climax quickly built up.

“Pete!” you bellowed, a desperation in your voice that told him you were on the brink, and knowing you were at risk of screaming as you came, he covered your mouth with his and proceeded to pound you mercilessly, swallowing your noises of unbridled pleasure as you clenched and shuddered on his cock.

Only seconds behind you, Pete bucked into your soaked cunt until he pumped you full of his hot spend, feeling it leak out of you as he continued to slowly thrust, drawing out every moment of your highs that he could.

You laughed as you comprehended what just happened, smoothing your hand over your head as your chest rose and fell sharply, Pete chuckling as a mischievous and prideful look dressed his flushed features.

“It’s impossible to get enough of you,” he admitted, his eyes flickering over your face as he leaned his arms against the sink, caging you in.

You hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kissing him long and slow and in a way you hoped conveyed everything you felt for him.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked when your kiss slowed to a pause, the blue of his eyes more vibrant and full of emotion.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling at him softly while your finger traced the crease beside his mouth.

“Okay, darling,” he cooed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he inhaled deeply, his face moving into the side of your neck where he pressed kisses into the sensitive skin and made you squirm and giggle.

Stopping, he brought his face back up to look at you, his expression serious again, his hand finding yours where he laced your fingers together and gave it three gentle squeezes.

“You know you’re the only one I want, yeah?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand back three times, smiling bigger as his own grew.

“I do, though I wouldn’t mind you showing me again…”

“Careful what you wish for!” he laughed burying his face into your neck again where he nipped and sucked at your skin, your laughter echoing against the tiled walls.

Pete walked out of the bathroom with you confidently after cleaning up and composing yourselves, even happier to see that his ex and the rest of Vicky’s horrible friends had left, the expressions on everyone’s faces as you sat back down at the table telling you they knew exactly what you had been up to.

“Oi, that colour suits you, mate,” Ned commented, pointing to his lips as he stared at Pete’s that were tinted from your lip gloss.

“Yeah? It’d suit yours too,” Pete said, leaning over and planting a kiss on Ned’s cheek quickly before he pushed him away, cursing and wiping his cheek dramatically.

Pete laughed as he took his seat, downing his pint that had been waiting for him to return to, leaning back in his chair where he pulled you onto his lap to have you proudly perch, the atmosphere more relaxed and as it normally was.

Red dripped into the sink one drop at a time, flowing steadily from so many places on his hands and face he wasn’t even sure where it was all coming from.

Pete tugged more tissues out of the box, bunching them up and holding them to what he thought was the deepest cut on his chin with as much pressure as he could, the ache in his hand preventing him from doing a sufficient job. He didn’t think he’d cracked on that Zulu cunt as hard as he did, but his knuckles proved otherwise, split open what felt like to the bone.

Any effects the pints in his bloodstream had provided him had definitely worn off now, his head pounding and every cut on him stinging and burning like mad, the severity of each fresh injury hard to determine as he looked at himself in the mirror through one good eye, the dark, puffy welt spreading up to his other from his cheek.

He stood with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his blood and sweat-stained clothes discarded in a heap on the floor, his reflection revealing bruises on his side and abdomen that refused to be ignored when he had lifted his jumper over his head.

It was late, and as quiet as he tried to be, Pete knew better than to think you wouldn’t have heard him come home, your inability to stay asleep for long without him something he secretly loved and made him swell, always feeling equally as eager to get back home and in bed with you.

“Hiya, love,” he muttered, smirking at you in the mirror when you appeared in the doorway, your sleepy face quickly changing to shock when you saw the state of him.

“I’m fine!” he stressed, knowing what your next words were going to be, the worry on your face breaking his heart a little.

“Pete…” you whispered, not in an accusatory or scolding way, but out of sheer love and care, your hands cupping his cheeks gently despite getting blood on them, your eyes searching his for truth in his claim of being okay.

“Fucking Zulu’s…” he trailed off, a small laugh blowing out of his lungs.

Never once had you asked him to stop fighting, and he knew you wouldn’t now, taking the aftermath of his hobby on the chin just like he did multiple times tonight, his love and appreciation for you making him feel a bit emotional as he watched you open the cupboard and get out the first aid kit to tend to his wounds.

He blinked back the moisture that had quickly accumulated in his eyes before you were facing him again, closing them when you pressed a careful kiss to his bloody lips, letting out a long sigh when you pulled away.

“Sit so I can see better,” you instructed, your voice soft and soothing to his ears.

Pete turned and stepped toward the tub, perching on the edge of it so he faced the sink for you to work, watching the deep red spots staining it dilute into a rusty colour as water ran from the tap and washed his blood off the porcelain.

Carefully, and for as long as it would take, you gently cleaned all of his wounds, wiping the blood that had dried and stuck in his blond stubble and dabbing the cuts that still oozed, your touch becoming lighter whenever you noticed a wince that involuntarily snuck past his attempts to hide them.

Luckily, nothing needed stitches, and even though Pete knew you were done cleaning and disinfecting each cut he’d sustained, you continued to linger, admiring his bruised and battered features.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you close to him, letting his face lean into your stomach, breathing deeply as you raked your fingers up his bare back and through his hair. His shoulders relaxed, letting go of the tension held in them from taking the painful sting of peroxide seeping into his cuts over and over, his hands smoothing up your bare thighs and your bum.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” you whispered, your lips pressing against his scalp.

He hummed, pulling his face away from the warmth of your body in his sweater.

“Yeah. C’mere,” he offered, shifting slightly so your legs had room to straddle him.

You seated yourself on his lap, smiling when his own broke out on his damaged face, your back arching into him when he placed his hands under his sweater that you had now worn more times than him to card up your back.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, admiring you for a moment before kissing you softly, his nose moving back and forth on yours a couple of times before nudging your cheek, resting his face against it while he closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

“You’re welcome, love,” you cooed, your fingers ghosting over the back of his neck, making him melt into you even more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he spoke, mostly to himself, still finding it hard to believe that he had been lucky enough to survive his injuries and then have you walk into his classroom that one morning.

Pete kissed your cheek once, then again, each press to your soft skin urging him to add another and then more after that, eventually meeting your lips with his until minutes had passed with you lost in the haze created by your slow kisses.

His hands held your back firmly, keeping you close to him and preventing you from falling back as he moved his head away from yours and looked at you in a way that made you want to show him that the love you had for him existed like no other.

“I love you,” he professed, as if he had stolen the words right out of your mouth. Those three words were spoken with a calm surety that held such truth there was no way you could deny or question it, your fingers trembling against his cheek as you trailed them along the crease that flanked his lips.

“I love you, too, Pete.”

The taste of blood transferred onto your tongue again as he crashed into you, kissing you with more ardor than ever before, the relevancy of the cuts on his lips no longer a concern to either of you.

Your hands slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him into you even more to deepen your kiss, your hips rolling against his just enough that you could feel his cock hardening, your bare core grinding on the somewhat rough material of the towel separating you.

Pete moaned into your mouth, and without stopping kissing you, leaned back enough to unwrap the fold of the towel from his waist, letting it fall open under him.

His hands slid under your thighs, guiding you to lift your hips in order to get on top of his cock, breaking your kiss to watch your face as you sank down on his length.

Before you even had the chance to start riding him, Pete ran his battered hands over your hair, his eyes holding as much softness as his voice did.

“Just be still for me, yeah?” he asked, wanting to savour the intimacy of being inside you unmoving.

You nodded, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes as his nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips again, your hand resting on his chest where you could feel his heart beating wildly.

You would have been kidding yourself if you said you weren’t feeling a bit uneasy about going to pick up your car alone, the conversation you had had with the mechanic, Martin, when you dropped it off still fresh in your mind.

Pete was unable to take you, having to coach a practice after work, and your sister was taking Jack to it and staying to watch since she always missed so many, leaving you to take the tube over to Millwall to deal with it on your own.

You assured yourself over and over that it would be fine and that you were probably reading into things too much, but still the way he had mentioned knowing Steve and Pete and claiming to be old mates with them wasn’t sitting right with you. With work being so busy this week, you had completely forgotten to mention it to Pete, and you cursed yourself for failing to bring it up when you had checked with him again that morning if he was sure he couldn’t get someone else to coach for him.

As the stops to Millwall grew closer and closer, you did your best not to dwell, reading the book you brought with you while your leg bounced up and down unconsciously, your eyes scanning over the same paragraph again and again without being able to absorb the words.

“Alright, good job, lads!” Pete shouted after blowing his whistle, signaling the end of their practice.

He held the bag open for them to toss their soiled jerseys in, laughing at all their comments to each other and how supportive they all were of their teammates.

“Eh, Jack, will you help me gather up the pylons?” he asked when your nephew had made it over to him in the queue of rowdy boys.

As Pete knew he would, Jack happily jogged around the pitch and collected the majority of them, saving Pete and his leg the trouble of going to do it all himself.

“Cheers, mate,” Pete thanked him, ruffling his hair as he walked with him over to where his mum stood waiting.

“Great practice, love!” She praised her son, then smiled at Pete as Jack worked at untying his cleats and taking off his shin guards. “Reckon she’ll be back from Millwall soon, then?” she said, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

“Millwall?” Pete asked, his face screwed up at the mention of his rivaled district.

“Yeah, that’s where the mechanic is she took her car to.”

“What’s the garage called?” he questioned, an urgency present in his voice as he reached in the pocket of his jacket for his phone.

“I don’t know, I didn’t look when I had dropped her off and she never mentioned it…is everything okay?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Pete lied, trying to settle the rising panic he felt inside him at the thought of the garage you took your car to for repairs being Tommy fucking Hatcher’s.

He hit the button to dial your number and held it up to his ear, pacing as he listened to ring after ring before the sound of your voice came through, his heart falling when it was only your voicemail picking up.

“Fuck-” he hissed, hanging up before redialling, praying you would pick up and tell him you weren’t alone at Tommy’s garage.

The bell that chimed when the door opened sounded ominous tonight as you stepped through it, the smell of oil and exhaust fumes hitting your nose heavily, the distant sound of the radio and tools clanking against metal filling the otherwise quiet shop.

Your car was parked out front, seemingly ready to drive off in, and you hoped to settle the bill and get your keys quickly so you could make your way back to see Pete, wanting this day and especially this exchange to be over and done with.

Glancing through the window that looked into the garage from where the little waiting area was, you could see Martin bent over the bonnet of a car, and behind him, a small office where who you assumed was the owner sat at his desk.

When neither man noticed your presence, you stepped through into the bay, careful your heels didn’t slip on the greasy floor.

The man in his office finally caught sight of you, grinning with a somewhat villainous smile that split his hardened features, and you thought no matter how friendly he tried to appear, there was something about him that seemed impossible to soften.

“Hello, love,” he greeted, his voice matching his looks.

“Hi, sorry,” you stammered, “I’m just here to get my car.” You hooked your thumb and pointed over your shoulder in the direction of where it sat outside, planting your feet firmly on the cement floor while doing your best to stand tall and confident.

“Yeah, not a problem, I’ve got the paperwork all here for ya,” he explained, standing from his chair and turning to reach for some papers from the filing cabinet behind him.

Martin nodded as you walked past him to enter the office, giving you a curt ‘Evening,’ as you smiled weakly in return.

The man seemed to fill the entire space of his office, his form tall and broad, his personality giving off a powerful air that made you feel somewhat suffocated.

There were empty beer bottles on his desk, and scattered across the walls and cabinets that took up nearly every square inch of the small room were various pieces of Millwall F.C. paraphernalia.

“You a fan?” he asked, catching you looking at the poster of the crest hung on the wall beside him.

“Erm, no, I don’t really pay attention to football all that much,” you lied, the realization that this man was clearly a huge supporter of the club that was Pete’s sworn enemy making you want to avoid the topic altogether.

“No?” he questioned, his head tilting to the side as another vicious smile revealed his teeth. “Not even a fan of the mighty Hammers?”

The way he said it made your blood turn cold, and you swallowed thickly, thinking how Martin must have discussed your affiliation to West Ham United through knowing Pete and Steve, and you wondered if these men were members of Millwall’s infamous firm.

You shook your head and huffed out a false laugh, reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“No,” you repeated, hoping he didn’t press his inquiry any further.

Clearing your throat to ensure your words came out properly, you started filing through the stack of notes you had taken out of the bank that morning, counting out what you had been told the total was going to be for the repairs.

“It was £450, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, watching as you placed the money on his desk, folding his arms across his chest.

“You sure you aren’t running about and singing along to ‘Forever Blowing fucking Bubbles’ then?”

You scoffed, trying your best to look like you hadn’t heard or even sang that song more times than you could count since meeting Pete.

“Ah, I see,” he said, slowly. “So you’re going to lie right to my face and tell me you’re not Pete Dunham’s missus, are ya?”

You almost choked, words unable to form on your tongue that felt too big for your mouth, the air in your lungs feeling trapped while everything around you started to distort as a dizziness overcame you.

“How…how do you know that?”

He pointed his finger at you, his lips still curled into a smile. “See, I knew you were lying to me, you little slag.”

You stepped back as he walked around his desk, his blue eyes icy with an evil you had never seen before.

“Don’t you think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, love,” he grinned, sitting on the edge of his desk as he nodded behind you. “Martin there hates your little boy toy just as much as I do, so he won’t be letting you run past him too easily either.”

You kept still, taking in as deep a breath as you could, closing your eyes briefly to gain some courage as you thought of which of the many questions racing through your mind to ask next.

“How do you know who I am?” your voice squeaked out, unable to hide your fear.

He shrugged his shoulders and frowned, “I get people to find things out for me.”

“Right, I’d just like to get my keys and leave, I don’t want any trouble-”

“You’re missing the fucking point, here!” he shouted, cutting you off. “Didn’t little Petey warn you about me?”

You shook your head again, confused as to who this man even was to Pete. “No, I-”

“Was he too afraid to come with you, not man enough to protect you?”

He stood from his desk, walking closer to you until you were face to face and your back was pressed against a cabinet, leaving you nowhere to escape.

“Is the taste of death still too fresh for him?” he laughed, clearly amused in seeing you put it all together.

“You’re-”

“Yeah, that’s right, darling,” he cooed, his face so close to yours you could smell the stale beer and smoke on his putrid breath. “I’m Tommy Hatcher. The man who nearly wiped out the Dunham name.”

He seemed so proud of it, like the memory was something he revisited often, and you felt sick knowing you were standing vulnerable at the hands of the man who almost killed the one you couldn’t live without.

“It’s funny, innit? That out of all the garages in London to get your car fixed, you came to mine.”

His finger jabbed into your chest with each word, making you recoil to try to make space between you, only to press yourself harder into the cabinet.

“You’re vile,” you spat, shoving your arm against his chest to push him away from you, only to have him come back stronger and closer than before.

He gripped your chin with his meaty hand, his fingers digging into your skin so hard it made you yelp.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks now. You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, love,” he warned, the pleasure he took in this written all over his grisly face. “How’s that nephew of yours, by the way?”

Bile rose up your throat at the idea of him getting to Jack and causing him harm, the lengths this horrible, soulless man would go to to make anyone he hated suffer having no limit.

“He seems like a good lad,” he whispered, his mouth hovering beside your ear where his hot breath made your skin crawl and you squirm in his grasp. “It’d be a fucking shame if he didn’t make it past his twelfth birthday just like my son didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t!” you cried, trying to move your legs enough to kick him, only to have his body lean harder into yours to stop you.

“See, you’re forgetting what I’m capable of. How easy it was to drive that bottle into Stevie’s neck and how much fucking joy I got breaking Petey’s body until he was lifeless on the ground.”

His grip tightened on your face as his eyes scanned over you, and despite your efforts to not let it happen, tears sprang from your eyes at the description of him trying to kill Pete.

“Don’t think it wouldn’t be hard to do the same thing to you or that little boy.”

With all the strength you had, you pushed against him, hitting him as hard as you could in his stomach while stomping hard on his foot, but Tommy was too strong, slamming you back into the cabinet so the handle drove into your ribs and all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you.

He laughed in your face, locking his forearm across your neck to keep you in place, your struggle to breathe seeming to satisfy him.

“I could do anything I wanted to you right now and no one would know or be able to stop me,” he bragged, growing more aroused with the power he held over you.

He ground himself against you, making you feel his hardness through his trousers, the possibility of you actually being sick between that and the lack of oxygen becoming more and more likely.

“It’s funny, you've got the same look of terror in your eyes as he did right before I smashed his fucking face in!” he pointed out, his laughter ringing through the room like you had just shared a joke together.

Within a split second his demeanor changed again, glaring at you seriously as his voice quieted and turned calm.

“See, I could rape you, ruin you so he’d never want to touch you again...”

You let out a broken sob, your eyes screwing shut when you felt his other hand travel slowly down your waist until he reached your thighs, stopping when he spoke again.

“But it’s lucky for you I’m a changed man.”

Tommy loosened the force of his arm against your neck, backing away from you slightly, and ran a hand over his hair to regain some composure.

“Don’t wanna be stuck in the nick again over someone as pitiful as you and your precious Petey!” he barked, adjusting himself in his pants crudely while you shook against the cold, metal cabinet.

He reached for something on his desk, turning around and quickly throwing your keys at your face where they missed and hit you hard in the chest, making you jump and cry out which only made him howl a maniacal laugh.

“Go on, you shitcunt,” he spat, “go home to Petey and cry all about it to him!”

You stooped and grabbed your keys off the grimy floor with a trembling hand, bolting out the door as fast as your legs would carry you, the sound of his and Martin’s laughter chasing you out of the building where you pressed the button to unlock your car as quickly as possible.

The tears didn’t come until you were out of the lot and onto the road, the lights from passing cars blurry and blinding as you finally let out wracking sobs, unaware of how fast you were going or which roads you were turning down, getting as far away from Tommy Hatcher as you could the only thing on your mind.

---

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[britt-kageryuu]

Leo is attempting to play a modded game, and for some reason somethings take real world time to manufacture. He shifts in his blue inflatable chair, and fidgets with his unicorn onesies sleeves. River is watching something on one of her screens.

"Okay, let's talk about something random! Why are people obsessed with our feet?" Leo shouts out of boredom.

"Yeah, it's not like any of you are trying for the part of Trilby anytime soon." River adds without looking up from her screen.

"What, and Who is Trilby?" Leo asked, "Because just about anything would be interesting right now."

"Trilby is a book turned movie where the author wrote the female lead to have 'Very Beautiful Feet' specifically the left foot." River starts to explain, before she continues,

"Wait how long ago did this book come out?" Leo interrupts.

"Originally 1894!" River replied, "Now when the book was being adapted for live action they realized that when casting they needed to get a Woman, or Man in some cases, with a lovely voice and beautiful feet." River brings up some of the articles from the time. "Thus actors would send feet pics when auditioning for the part!"

"So celebrity feet pics might have become a thing because this book was popular enough that many people wanted to be the female lead?" Leo questions, "Any other interesting things about Trilby? I still have like 10 minutes before I need to swap out a new batch to process."

River looked very excited to be aloud to info dump, " Do I ever, first off I learned this from a fashion historian Youtuber, so that's at least part of my sources." River brings up the channel she watched, "There is some proof that Trilby is responsible for the popularization of the pedicure!"

Leo sits up with interest, "Really. Tell me more!"

The stream continues with River talking about random things that came from Trilby, and replaying parts of the video she watched to show some of the sources.

Chat is enjoying this some throwing in their opinions, and a couple of people got knocked out for asking for feet pics, but hey whatever fills the void of needing g to wait 15 minutes for something to happen in game!

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

Masterpost

I watched a video by Nichole Rudolph a fashion historian Youtuber about Trilby. I wanted to have one of the turtles go off about this, but couldn't figure who would make sense. Then I remembered River is designed to look into random pop culture that suddenly catches her attention.

It's a short, but I didn't want to write her going over every odd thing that popped up when it came to Trilby. Like the foot shaped icecream molds!

[moonlight-coffeebean-147]

Doodle Dump 2: Electric Boogaloo

So to distract myself from…. recent irl events…. Here’s another doodle dump featuring Usagi and the ocs of @twistedtummies2 . Imma be real… it’s been a shitty week. From college to…. Whatever that was… I’ve just honestly been feeling mentally drained rn. But doodling helps me calm down as well as TT2’s ocs. Expect a lot more doodles here in the future. For my own comfort, but for hopefully ya’lls as well <3

A compilation of Usagi with Billy. I have to admit I kind of also ship them with him. Primarily cause 1. The Rabbit aesthetic, 2. It speaks to my g/t loving heart, and 3. Billy’s my second favorite besides Elias. Billy’s fairly easy for me to draw

….This is the worst thing I’ve drawn like 😭😭😭😭. I made the original doodle at work so yea…. Bald Billy & Rizzler Nakoda… more like Rizzkoda am I right? (kill me now). Fun fact, Procreate actually crashed on me when I was doing this so I guess that’s a sign 💀

Two doodles I made during midterm week. Also the week I realized Usagi was also partially a vent oc for me. Take that as you will.

And finally we starting a design for Overblot!Usagi. It appears that those feelings of inadequacy and being forgotten got too much for our poor Ramshackle Prefect. I may still need time to come up with an actual idea for what leads them to Overblot. Their design I plan to be based on that of concept art for when Oswald was the planned villain for Epic Mickey other than the Blot, a trolley conductor uniform in reference to Trolley Troubles on of Oswald’s first shorts, and possibly have imagery from the other overblots. Also besides their head and clothes… her entire body is covered in blot. As for abilities, one idea that I think could be interesting is them being able to detach and reattach body parts like Oswald has done in the past. Think that could be some nice nightmare fuel 😂. Another idea is implementing the paint and thinner in some way… but the idea is that they can create a large amount of thinner to create a wave and when touch by said thinner, the person turns to a statue…. a little nod to what happens to Ortensia in the first game. The paint has the abilities to create physical illusions, more specifically clones, similar to Lapis Lazuli’s copy of the gems to fight in the Ocean Gem episodes or Neo’s semblance ability from Rwby, specifically season 9. It would be a reference to the animatronics of Mickey’s friends, once again from Epic Mickey. Their smile I do like thinking is a reference to how the characters smile in stuff like the title cards or even the mascot suit…. But the more depressing reason is that Usagi at this point has officially snapped and is at that point of no return. It’s the whole smile through the pain kind of thing. To add up they’re a human so their blot form is on the brink of collapse at any moment. They are both figuratively and literally straining to hold themselves together. If the thinner ability idea goes through (in my mind) to Usagi… staues can last for a long time, they can be used to represent someone’s life, their memory. I might go more in depth with it once I finish the design… but yeah it’s gonna get heavy.

Anyways back to the void. Hope yall enjoyed! : > Stay safe out there. Take a breather. It will all be okay

I may be internally panicking. But I have comfort in knowing that… at least I got more plushies coming in the future.

This is Moon signing off for now, have a good one ✨

[fantasyinvader]

I think I can even defend Edelgard's Hopes design.

Like @randomnameless recently pointed out, Edelgard is a lot more concerned about PR in Hopes. That she wants to create this image of her being someone who will save those who side with her, and as such will turn around and save Lonato in order to maintain that image. She's not doing it because it's the right thing to do, but because it stands to benefit her. It's just another layer of manipulation she uses.

After all, the ideals she starts this war over are that people need to learn not to rely on others and instead on their own strength. That's what it means for her for people to become strong, and it's these ideals she reshapes Fodlan with in Safflower's ending. The whole "independent" line is read in Japanese as her making a world where people don't rely on others, not that she's making them free, which in turn means that her big speech against Rhea was just for show (much like offering Rhea a chance to surrender while privately saying she needs to be destroyed). According to Edelgard's ideals, if her vassals rely on her it's just showing her how weak they actually are. How they lack merit, which would in turn justify her removing them from power. This is despite how her reforms in Hopes seem to coddle the nobility according to Hubert's supports, with the promise that they'll be free to do whatever they want. But at the same time, Edelgard realizes in Hopes that without the Agarthans she needs the support of her vassals, so her reforms are at the same time anti-commoner despite her promises of equality. But then again, considering she consolidates power on herself post-Safflower everyone else might be equal after her victory if only because they possess no real power themselves as Edelgard being labelled a hegemon means her influence and authority is enough to dominate others.

Edelgard is still manipulating others in Hopes. She's still the same person she was in Houses, and even she knows well enough not to trust her according to the Shadow Realm chapter. So, the infamous sailor fuku plays a role in the manipulation of players.

We all know Japan has issues when it comes to women. It's a very patriarchal society, one where women being dominant is not seen in the best light. There's that infamous scene in Bakuman, where one of the leads explains that the cute girl who gets average grades is smarter than the girl who gets the best grades in the class and thinks highly of herself. Hell, women are expected to leave the workforce when they marry and have kids even if their pay and status within the company is higher than that of their husband. Women are expected to be cute, innocent and vulnerable, that they should inspire the feeling to protect them otherwise known as moe.

So, think about Edelgard according to the devs in Houses. She has two sides of her, emperor seeking conquest and cute girl. This duality is what they cite as giving her "depth," with the emperor seeking conquest (as well as villain role) being a twist to shock players. This would imply that the player is supposed to see Edelgard first and foremost as a "cute girl," explaining why the option to side with her is labelled as "protect Edelgard" as she's supposed to invoke moe. How harsh Rhea comes across in White Clouds also plays a part in this, Rhea is supposed to come across as the domineering woman in contrast to Edelgard's moe.

But, again, Edelgard being the villainous conqueror is the twist. When we rescue Rhea from her, Rhea looks a lot more vulnerable after being imprisioned for five years. Meanwhile, Edelgard dresses like she's the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland (which then gets cranked up when she becomes the Hegemon Husk in Moon). Edelgard looks a lot more dominant than she did as a student. Edelgard's post timeskip design is supposed to inform us that she is the villain.

In Hopes though, once again we get the game trying to call attention to Edelgard's manipulations. This time, her outfit looks more like Little Red Riding Hood, a far more innocent design. An innocent design to go with Edelgard's public image in Hopes, where she promises to save people while keeping her true intentions a secret from them. Or, in other words, the sailor fuku design is meant to accent this depiction of Edelgard who makes more of an attempt to look good for support. But, the Hegemon Husk form is still in the game, showing that Edelgard is still serving the same toxic ideals she fought for in Houses.

[easily-distracted-by-fandom]

my little pony: fim x Hive Mind

so there was a post that said to smash together your first au and your current one and I have done that. It apparently caught my motivation by the throat.

#mlp x hive mind tbh#ummm#honestly adore#this can go two ways#we can shove the ponies into a hive!au#and make twilight a telepath##Luna was distanced for a long hecking time#and Celestia is a Claire like figure who is very dutiful#Shining armor is Candace’s strike leader#and also her husband#Pinkie is twilights whatever Megan is#i forgot the name#general manager?#and also therapist because pinkie has amazing coping mechanisms#fluttershy and rarity are part of liaison#rarity is the public communication and such#fluttershy is making stories because she’s really good at that#see: fluttershys horror games#Applejack and Rainbow Dash are strike team#Stuff happens#something something starlight starts an anti lottery cult at the seafarm#they send starlight through lottery#she gets assigned to twilights whatever Lucas’s teams name is

ok so Rarity grew up with level 30ish fashion designer parents. She’s their 1st child and was expecting to come out a fashion designer herself. Her sister is Sweetie Belle (just Belle, it’s a human au) she isn’t AS parentified in this au because of teen level so. Her parents do send Belle up to spend time with her because they hope that Belle will pick up some ‘level one talent’ from Rarity.

Fluttershy was besties with Rainbow Dash (they’re Flutter and Dash, Flutter is regarded as a weird name). She loves working with animals and expected to be assigned to work with them. Her parents are low-level workers but her father has a passion for cloudgazing and used to take her and Zephr outside to do so. Flutter got scared into shutting up about it after the first time she talked about it in class. She now freezes in fear whenever it’s mentioned, not because she’s scared of the outside but because she’s scared of what people will say to her. She had a pretty sucky time in teen level and used to daydream, making stories up in her head. Especially during days where she was too anxious to leave her room.

Dash is an only child of her family, who are level 16ish athletes. She wanted to be on a track team and is incredibly lithe and agile. She’s mentoring one of her younger cousins (Scootaloo, Lou in this universe)

Applejack (AJ) is part of a family of outside workers and economists that regularly work Outside. She’s a middle child with a head of business and a very strong work ethic. She’s also just very strong. I might make her and Dash lesbians for each other idk. Her older brother (Mack) is an outside worker and her younger sister (Blossom) look to her for advice.

Twilight. Ok so her family is law enforcement. Level 20 all that stuff. Her older brother (I can’t figure out what to call him, frick it we’re calling him Steve) is a telepath strike team leader and dating Cadance. Cadance loves little kids so used to take care to Twilight when she was younger but telepaths aren’t allowed to read the minds of any kids before they’ve gone through lottery. The hive used to let all kids visit telepaths but when telepaths rates suddenly dropped among those children they realized something was wrong. Twilight wanted to be a researcher, she still researches things because no one can stop her. This leads to… situations.

Pinkie Pie is a honor baby. She was the last of 4, her older siblings all going off to be top ten member of the hive. (Maud is a reset specialist. Maud gets lots of time off. Maud goes outside and looks at rocks in her free time. Maud is adorable. Lime is a professional trainer/tough love therapist she screams people into loving themselves. Marble is a researcher). She loves baking and making people happy. So when her jobs was to make people happy and make sure everything ran smoothly she knew she could do it. Pinkie might be a borderline telepath. Pinkie might’ve already known she was a borderline telepath. Pinkie has told no one because she figured out how this works.

Spike is Twilights younger brother, by the time he was born she was two years away from teen level. He really wants to be her assistant. He does not understand what she does.

cadence and Steve are married. Cadence and Steve have a child. Their child is Flur (Flurry Heart). Flur is one, Flur is absolutely a telepath.

Chrysalis is from a different hive, Chrysalis hates it there, Chrysalis is really good at makeup. Chrysalis pretends to be Cadence to see how this hive treats its Telepaths, Chrysalis isn’t that good at pretending to be someone she’s never met. Chrysalis gets caught, this is fine because Chrysalis is a telepath and transfers to Hive Equestria. Literally no one but Chrysalis is happy about this. Celestia is the oldest living telepath. This is bad because she’s in her 40s. Celestia cut off contact with her sister for 20 years after Luna began distancing. Celestia is constantly stressed

Luna is the second oldest living telepath. Luna is in her late 30s. Luna had a really bad like 20 years of her life where she just decided that killing Celestia was her life’s goal because nothing else mattered in her stupid life. This was a very hard time for Hive Equestria.

Starlight Glimmer (Arlie) started a cult. Arlie was like 17 when she started the cult, Arlie had lost her best friend to the lottery a year earlier. Arlie and Trixie (who’s name is not Trixie but who goes by Trixie anyway) live on the sea farm and decided that lottery was the root of all evils (Trixie was scared it would assign her to a low level since she felt useless). Their cult does Weird Cult Activities, a telepath unit is sent to check it out. Twilight realizes this is Literal Children and just… convinces them to go through lottery anyway? Trixie gets to be on Liason. Arlie is part of the tactical team because she actually did Run A Cult Very Good thank you. She’s imprinted for tactical commander and is definitely going to run Twilights. These three may or may not become a polycule of lesbians.

Hive Equestria is a genetics hive btw but they more mess with animal genetics rather than human. Anyway wayyy back before anything some genetics stuff happened and so Hive Equestria people aren’t… entirely human anymore. There’s three categories: pegasi: these people have feathers, they usually can’t fly but the feather amounts can range from tiny wings to scatterings around the neck. Earth: they’re human, but… something is off. They’re the only ones encouraged to trade hives. Everyone can of course… they’re just made aware that they aren’t exactly going to be treated normally out there. Unicorns: they have horns. What type, all types. It gets unwieldy but they’re also the most likely to be telepaths/borderlines

they didn’t have enough telepaths to keep any rise up. They never have. So instead telepaths are deified to the point where crossing them is religious sacrelige. Crime rates are very reduced, especially because being friendly is part of their culture to like an extreme. It’s very common after lottery to get a tattoo that signifies your role somewhere visible (usually the cheek) each one is personalized. Kids spend a lot of time in school daydreaming about their ‘cutie marks’.

I can’t think of any other characters that are immensely important but if you give me motivation in forms of reblogs and such I might draw a few of them and/or figure out a story.

[sunnykeysmash]

I was trying to work out the pyramid hierarchy for the gang and I think the reason it's a pyramid scheme is that NO MATTER WHAT, it eventually ends in mac and dennis joining forces to cut dee out of leader position.

A. If Mac rises too high, Dennis is bound to plummet without him, which eventually leads Mac to resume his position behind Dennis for support and it improves their overall relationship, which makes them gain power again. Mac high and Dennis low doesn't last long, and it only leads to their union strengthening.

B. If Mac sinks too low, but still directly behind Dennis, their relationship is still working properly and the conjoined power still hijacks Dee's leadership. May not be enough to be leader themselves, that's where Frank comes in if Charlie is below him for support (which, they flipped in s15, so that's not a thing anymore).

C. If Mac is at the bottom, and Dennis is above him, that's just point A again.

D. If Mac sinks too low, but Dennis is super high, you get a situation a la s13, Escapes. Dennis is still nominated leader due to Mac's intense and intrinsic power inside the group and his devotion to Dennis. They won't get along, but Dee is still barred from being leader. Dennis and Frank will fight for dominance (again, if Charlie is below him in this case), and the group as a whole will suffer greatly because of Mac and Dennis not being on the same front.

No matter what, however, the system is designed to cut her out. Because unlike Charlie, Frank, Mac and Dennis, Dee is the only one inside the group who is alone.

And no matter what, Mac is always playing both sides, so he always comes out on top. It doesn't matter if he's at the top of it, at the bottom, if it's upside down or right side up or whatever. His controlling and structured nature and devotion to Dennis will always work in his favor to basically have him control things behind the scenes. Whether he does it himself, or Dennis does it for him.

In fact, the gang was at its worst and least functional during the time where Mac decided to hand Dennis actual control. But even then, he couldn't help trying to run things behind the scenes. I want you to take the first half of Chokes into consideration for this. I say first half because the conflict is resolved with Mac understanding that Dennis DOESN'T WANT POWER (just the illusion of it). He wants to lead while Mac makes all the decisions.

The only ways Dee can win this game? Either destroy the whole pyramid itself, or find a buddy.

But I have a feeling what she's actually going to do is still ultimately try to play the game with their rules, not realizing it's rigged. She's gonna try to bring Dennis down to take his much sought after leading position now that she senses his weakness. But as I discussed, that's a game she can't win. And it could probably lead to Mac and Dennis' union strengthening significantly.

Now, something interesting @cutemeat said to me, makes me think it's not completely out of the realm of possibility that Charlie and Dee could team up to take them down and take power from them, especially now that Frank, like Dennis, is sinking, which means Charlie is rising as well. Kinda like the leaderboard in Big Mo, huh? Anyway, if this is the case, all I know is that Frank would eventually end up on the very bottom, as the new person without anyone else, IF Charlie and Frank don't make up. IF they do, which I think they might, Dee, as always, is gonna get screwed for trying to play the game, and is gonna draw the short end of the stick, like always.

Because in the end, the show told us.

"Bros before hoes".

And in a situation like this, if Charlie has to choose between Frank and Dee, I have no doubt he'd leave her behind... (and perhaps that was his whole plan, who knows!)

It is no man left behind after all... not so much the women.

And that's the way the pyramid works to me, pretty much. Designed to keep her out of power. And I think that's maybe even smart commentary for like... the patriarchy as a whole, huh?

[invested-in-your-future]

Ironwood should have never been the villain

Hot take but I disagree.

I think Ironwood is perfect antagonist to showcase how fallible and flawed humanity can be. He is well meaning and he genuinely believes in his mission and goals and the idea of Greater Good. But he's also someone who grew up in post-world-war times in a country that's 100% was the bad guy before and is in quite a fickle state. Its no wonder he would strive to be better and desperately try to prove himself, even at the cost of his own wellbeing (oh look the theme of self sacrifice again and the toxic notion of "heroism" based upon society's expectations). Writing him as rigid by-the-book General that is willing to do whatever is necessary to keep the fragile peace going makes 100% sense. But inability to change and improvise should also be his flaw - while Ironwood sees threats that Ozpin is blind to, Ironwood genuinely does not realize the consequences and issues Ozpin sees in him.

I am of opinion that he was always intended to eventually "cross the line" and do something genuinely bad out of desperation and circumstance. The type of person that, when situation goes completely out of his control, would end up with him making decisions that are hard or impossible to come back from. A tragic case of a good intentions leading to worst decisions. A case study of human nature and the effect division, desperation and self destructive impulses can have upon it. And a thematic allusion of the real world's tendency to abandon war veterans and soldiers to their personal hell with no regard for their mental or physical wellbeing, after their country exploited them to the ultimate limit.

The issue however, just like with pretty much EVERYTHING in the show, is absolutely ZERO ACTUAL PROGRESSION. Its true for character relationships - Yang and Blake never actually getting to solve the issues that have been brewing since V3. Its true for characterization - Yang, Blake, Ruby, Weiss - all of them basically were given less than breadcrumbs so far rather than proper character writing - it took YEARS to acknowledge that Ruby might be traumatized and even that ended up with writing off trauma and character progression as NOT NEEDED "YOU ARE FLAWLESS" nonsense and Yang still has pretty much ZERO development in terms of her trauma (And Blake literally exists only as character design). It extends to the world itself too - time in Remnant only seems to move when there's a screentime given to a location - Come Volume 20, Glynda will still be vaguely standing around Vale and Mistral will still be exactly identical place as the team left it.

So its no surprise that that's true for character alignment too - Summer is either Best Mother Ever or Filthy Dishonest Liar, Raven is either uwusadregrets or Worst Mother Ever How Dare She. Even Salem is not immune to this as she literally has TWO phases of her backstory - "omg caring wife" and "I literally want to murder the entire world out of spite", with the awful flashback episode flipping the switch INSTANTLY between the two states. And that's true for Ironwood - there's no character arc. There's no actual genuine exploration of "road to hell is paved with good intentions", there's no moral conundrum. There's just a flip of the switch as plot demands. Its a Game of Thrones-esque situation where the writers wanted to do specific thing with the character but kind of forgot to do the reasonable build-up, so it just happens. THE BELLLLLLLLLS.

What I think should have happened is that Salem's stupid fortress of DOOM or relics or Cinder or Salem's Evil Troupe of Evil should have never played a role in Fall of Atlas. It should have been ALL Internal. Just Kingdom of Atlas imploding in on itself as consequence of Fall of Beacon and the worsening situation in the world. Make Atlas story arc ALL ABOUT power plays within Atlas, with different people having wildly different ideas on where to actually aim the army at and different characters having different ideas on how to bring back order to destabilized country. Just have the team be stuck in a situation that is few steps away from world war with different ways provided to solve it. In the end, lines are crossed and Atlas falls apart from it's own sense of self-importance, grandeur, paranoia, classism and nationalism and Ironwood, misguided and tragic, falls with the country he sacrificed everything for. The lead cast are left to wonder whether there was any other way to resolve this, but they'll never know. In this situation, willingly or unwillingly, they played the role of being the ones at the center of a Kingdom falling apart. What do they do now? Where do they go from here? Does each of them question actions that led them to this point in time? Do all of them arrive at the same conclusion?

I think to sell this its important to have Salem side to NEVER lift even a finger. The Story of Fall of Atlas is the story of division of humanity and Salem's side already did all they need to do with Beacon for that. Humanity are the ones that, as lyrics go, train their heroes and build their armies, and then with single moment, single event, they turn on each other and burn.

[mamamittens]

Well, I got halfway through a comm, so there's that. Then I realized it was Whoops All Set Up and I hadn't considered how to write the interactions to lead up to that smut so I took a step back to think it over.

I was asked for fluffy romcom and I'll be damned if I don't deliver it!

But that's a later problem, here's me rambling about ideas for an alternative shine riolu design for Platinum, Fin's service pokemon.

So, I decided against keeping canon colors and mostly the same design cause damnit, I still don't like the yellow.

I'm sure game freak had lovely reasons for the yellow but I hate it.

Away it goes!

And anyway, while I was at it, I figured I'd further tweak the design to highlight how Platinum was specifically picked for Finley. Perhaps as a favor from someone who was really moved by her tragic backstory.

Silver, her original Abra, looked pretty normal aside from a spiky ring on his tail. But that's more because it was pretty early in the days of Designer Breeding more geared towards unique iterations of pokemon. Particularly driven by the growing market for coordinators trying to get a leg up. And as a standard ish support pokemon he didn't need to look outstanding, just more identifiable if something happened.

So I decided towards a slightly artistic inspiration.

A mostly silver/gray coat explains the name easily enough. And I do like the original color pallette so I kept the blue/black. They also look unexpectedly tall and that's partly because I suck at the proportions but idk, maybe Platinum is just unusually tall as well lol

The flourishes make Plat look more rugged and (according to my roommate) dirty lol. But it's meant to be like paint brushes and paint splatter. Had no interest in a rainbow baby or anything too crazy.

The goofy leg/pant bulge looks more like a deliberate attempt to imply shorts, which I appreciate more than trying to figure out wtf canon is doing with that drumstick butt (or frankly dick shaped torso, it's so damn close to being a dick, I can't unseen it and I'm sorry you won't be able to either).

This is without any support pokemon gear. A vest is the obvious choice but when he evolves it'll have to be adjusted cause of the chest spike Lucario has. Maybe I'll just stick to a bandana? Or a belt?

...ah, I forgot to try the button... Well, whatever. I like it as is regardless. It's a little fancy but not too busy? If anything I might get rid of the 'holes' in the dark sections so it's just paint splatter inspired.

Be easier to draw at least lol

Idk if I mentioned earlier but Fin's official job is illustration/painting. Mostly for books and other projects she can consult for and do at home rather than travel. Very much a home body until the start of the fic when she decides she's well enough to handle it. Likes watercolor specifically for painting personal projects such as her old team's books or for friends (when she finally has them). But does oils, acrylics, murals, and mixed mediums as well.

Perhaps Platinum was a 'thank you' gift for a personal mural from a breeder who put Platinum through official support pokemon courses.

Despite being a support pokemon, Platinum is just as happy in a battle as any other riolu. His first duty is just to Fin though. So he would be more likely than most to forfeit a match if his trainer showed too much distress or lash out unexpectedly in times of peril.

This both pairs well with the rest of her destined team and against one specifically who would rather be doing that themselves. But for now I'll leave it at that lol.

Platinum will be her only special/shiny Pokemon. Unlike Edna, she doesn't have any connections or unexpected 'gifts' netting her rare pokemon.

[constantvariations]

V9C7

I am postponing writing a very delicious scene so y’all better appreciate this ;P

Post Ep: these last 3 eps are going to be carrying so much weight but at least we might be working towards Ruby’s decaying arc

Okay, totally random thought while I was watching the OP (I always watch OPs unless they’re particularly awful. It’s a compulsion idk) but I think it’d be hella cool if the blacksmith was Alyx. Whether the real Alyx isn’t the one who made it out or she came back for whatever reason (not dying ever is appealing to some, I hear), it’d be a neat twist

I’m not into 3d animation, so I can’t say a whole lot, but are the textures supposed to be this... weird? Last episode I said Jaune’s house looked like a ps2 game and it just keeps going

“I’m late! I’m late!” Okay, that’s a decent Alice in Wonderland nod. Not overdone or wink wonked, which can be annoying to those who don’t know the joke (man, I should watch Shrek again. The first two movies are masterpieces)

Wait, was that a dammit? Jaune canonically swears now. Huh

“Right on time.” It’s obviously not a time loop so what does this mean? Did the time fruit do more than just send him back in time but gave him even more of a spotlight in Wonderland? He’s a rusted knight, he’s the white rabbit, he’s murbling like he’s the mad hatter; what next, is he gonna be Jesus?

“Hurry! People are counting on us.” Uhhh people counted on you to fight the jabberwock and y’all bailed like frightened horses. I wouldn’t count on you with my fingers, much less my life

PAPER TOWNS MY BELOATHED

Okay, so we’re being hit yet again with the “what are you” question, which wouldn’t be weird if it wasn’t just our protags being bombarded with it. Surely there are some critters who venture over into new areas? Or perhaps new life occurs every now and again? The repetition has been annoying for a while, but it’s venturing into just plain silly “-so that we may serve you.” What. Why. Kill me

While I do like the designs of the paper stars, I’m really not digging the vibes. Sorry stars, you will never be the plupples from the Hot Daga

“Paper pleasers” I hate that I actually like that pun

Why is the team reacting so negatively to the stars being named after them? That’s genuinely fucking sad. Yet another instance of the show zooming by actual trauma for a cheap gag

Dude has spent who know how many years without a genuine personal connection, has been spending that time exploring the area and gaining its people’s trust, AND has shared his home with these people, yet when they talk to him about anything Wonderland related, they act like he’s saying he’s going to make them into shoes or something while having the audacity to be disappointed that he doesn’t have a solid lead on getting out. These girls are deplorable

Why are RWBY so lackluster about doing literal life-saving tasks while Jaune follows a hunch? You’re Hunters, that’s your job. Quit acting like life in Wonderland is beneath you because you don’t understand it jfc

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many different visual styles in a single show before. There’s the standard 3d, the color silhouettes (solid and textured), some microsoft paint scribbles, a few 2d stills, and now this children’s book style. Feels like an identity crisis

I understand Jaune’s perception of the tree, but I really don’t like how he overrides the autonomy of the villagers. If they’re literally willing to self-mutilate in order to leave, that’s probably a sign that you should let them go

Love how Weiss’s interest in Jaune disappears the moment he shows signs of mental illness. Gives me the warm and fuzzies *smash cut to me barfing in a dumpster*

“Because I can actually protect these people!” That is definitely a response to trauma that fits well with this narrative. Let’s see how MKEK fuck it up!

Jaune kills 2 jabbers in like 0.0003 seconds. Why in the everloving fuck did y’all have to run before?

I’m just realizing this is the first fight I’ve actually paid attention to. No idea why, but every fight previous my eyes have just glazed over. But I gotta say, I think the camera is way too close to the action. There’s definitely some interesting choreography going on but it’s hard to get a grasp on where everyone is at any point, and the bland environment isn’t helping. Go watch John Wick for some pointers

Unsure as to why Ruby is a) the only one apparently traumatized to the point of nearly 180-ing her character and b) why it’s specifically Crescent Rose/combat that triggers her. MKEK know how to throw bones but they can’t dish out any real substance

Someone please give that creature a cough drop or something because I cannot understand a word this fucker says

I thought Neo’s semblance was illusions? Pretty sure it’s called Imagination, which definitely implies it’s not a physical shifting ability. So, if the jabber-Neo had taken a bite of Ruby, would that mean Neo is chomping down? Would Ruby get stabbed with semblance glass? Or did the writers forget their own rules again?

ONCE A FUCKING GAIN WE ARE INTERRUPTED LITERALLY IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMEONE ASKING IF RUBY IS OKAY. WE ARE SEVEN EPISODES INTO A TEN EPISODE SEASON GET THE FUCK ON WITH IT

This “don’t ask me because I’m a leader” bit is really strange coming right off the several minute conversation about finding leads to getting home where not one person even looked at Ruby. Like, this was a request for supporting a platitude not a demand for a plan

“Why do I have to be the one to always pick people up?” First of all, no one asked you to, so jot that down. Second of all, bitch you have never been the sole sally sunshine, nor were you the only one helping others with emotions. Yang picked up Blake in V2, Jaune reassured YOU back in V4, Weiss talked to Yang in V5, Qrow comforted YOU in V7 and his main source of kindness was Clover (rip good boy). You’ve had your moments but don’t act like you’re the only one pulling emotional weight

Also, this voice acting is making me laugh I cannot take this seriously whatsoever

Why in the hickory dickory fuck is Blake hiding behind Yang and YANG WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE YOUR SISTER IS A FUCKING THREAT

In this scenario, it does make sense why Jaune’s the one who snaps, but holy cannoli batman I cannot stop thinking about how much better Yang would’ve been in this position, especially after the group split in V8. Sure, that conflict was contrite to begin with and its resolution unmemorable (did it even resolve? I’m not subjecting myself to V8 again), but it’d be so much spicier if the family divide grew in absence

Skipping right past Ruby’s breakdown to focus on Jaune’s. Huzzah. At least his is more interesting and grounded than hers

Genuinely impressed with Luna’s voice here. Dude should go bananas more often

I am once again asking if the team knows about Penny or if Jaune’s been keeping that juicy bit to himself. The way the camera focused on his mouth made it seem like he was about to confess, but it was a tease. I got narrative blue balls over here man, get on with it

Wasn’t it usually Yang who tried for positivity in dark times? Or did that get left at Beacon too? Blake’s supposed to be the realist, which maybe that’s what she was trying to do here but considering her track record I doubt it

And R leaves WBY behind! Please let this mean we can FINALLY focus on her shit and not cut away from it? And they better bring the cat back or Else

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-In-Progress Wednesday

Good morning/afternoon/night/whatever time it may be for you, dear Hellsite perusers! I humbly offer you a piece of my latest WIP chapter in hopes you might find some entertainment this fine Wednesday, and extend an invitation for anyone who would like to join me to also share. @oblivions-dawn @sneaksandsweets @blossom-adventures @rose-like-the-phoenix @nerevar-quote-and-star. As always, no pressure. <3

“These new harpoons are made of refined malachite and will easily splinter the hulls of even the biggest army vessels. I had them commissioned from an Orc camp.”

Ulfric nods his head politely. “All of this is very well and good, Torsten, but—“

He shakes his head excitedly as he talks over the Jarl. “You haven’t even seen the galley, yet. This ship was designed unlike any other before it. It’s built for war and long days out at sea…” 

Before the Jarl can get another word in edgewise, the Torsten walks away in the other direction, and Ulfric lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I wasn’t even aware that Orcs would take commissions from outsiders. When would he have become bloodkin?” Dahlia mutters under her breath in confusion.

“Then, you see what I do.” Ulfric lifts one of his brows and gives her a knowing look. “How much do you think this ship costs? …and who do you think he thinks is going to fund all of this?”

Suddenly, she understands why they have been asked there. This is the catch that Ulfric was talking about earlier during the council meeting. “He wants us to turn out our pockets.”

“Yes,” Ulfric nods, “and he’s been trying to do this for years. I already knew exactly what he wanted: a Navy which will be lead by his ships and will line his pockets with septims.”

Dahlia furrows her brow in confusion. “Then why come here at all?” 

“Sometimes, in the game of politics, pandering into what plans others have and crafting the illusion of interest is just as important as actual interest. Perhaps, we cannot pay for a fleet of these ships, but there is something else we can gain from this and a way we can turn it to our advantage.”

Her mouth opens with surprise as the realization dawns on her, “You’re going to ask Torsten for something, aren’t you?”

A wide smile breaks onto Ulfric’s face. “Maybe we are.”

She doesn’t miss the emphasis on the word and his inclusion of her. “But what is it? I don’t remember us talking about any plans.”

“All will be revealed later, my heart. For now, trust me and follow my lead.” He winks at her before strolling casually after Torsten.

Not for the first time, Dahlia wonders at her husband and how he gets any sleep at night for all of the thinking he does: Ulfric Stormcloak, ever the strategist, is always one step ahead, and now is not an exception.

[rise-my-angel]

what did you think about the ending of tlou?? and are you excited for season 2?? would love to hear some of that wonderful Mimi insight!! ☺️☺️

Okay, so I consider this season a closed story much like the original game. A story designed to end where it ends and the actions in front of us exist in their own merit and not that of future set up or outside sources. Meaning I do not consider events included in tlou2 to be canon, and I also don't take whatever neil/craig/usually game voice actors say about the show as truth or canon either. Beacuse a lot of what they say is purposley trying to make you think these events will lead naturally to what will be season 2 which is the second game.

I disregard the second game because I think it is completely illfitting to this universe story that forced characters to change to make it fit. And so, I am only looking at this show soley on the same way I did the first game. As its own unique thing that does not need a sequel.

That being said, (under a read more cus God forbid i make a post about this show thats not 8 thousand words long)

I love how the hospital events were framed not as tense and brutal, but painful and emotional. When the game came out everyone talked about how crazy that sequence was, but here its so interesting that its flipped. In the game you play this out yourself so you end up putting your emotions onto the scene but here we're forced to endure that this Joel isn't fueled by anger but a gut wrenching desperation. And the new added context that Joel losing Sarah drove him to attempt suicide paints it in a new light as well as direct confirmation that Ellie was not told anything and was drugged against her will.

Joel isn't just saving himself. He told Ellie JUST before they got seperated that he was so sure he wanted and was ready to die, but by some miracle, he flinched and lived long enough to heal and find purpose through her. Joel sees Ellie's pain. And he realizes, that Ellie has been manipulated into thinking that she has to do this and her own trauma might be used against her. Its why he doesnt respond at Marlenes comment to ask what she would choose.

Joel knows that he healed and that Marlene has not only taken Ellie's ability to flinch awat, but that she is the reason Ellie thinks she is the worlds only hope. Joel knows Ellie can't choose for herself, because Marlene is metaphorically holding her in place. Ensuring she won't flinch.

So Joel knows, he has to flinch for her. And I refuse to say he was wrong in lying because he is clearly not proud of himself for it. But, I think he's waiting. Waiting for Ellie to be more ready, to see that light he fell in love with return to her eyes and then they can talk. Joel wants to heal that guilt in Ellie before they talk about what happened, so that when she finds out the wholw truth, she is ready to accept Joels perspective and not be stuck in this suicidal ideation that Marlene tried to create.

Also, Ellie not only had full plans for what she and Joel would do after (i.e moving to Jackson as a real home and starting to live like a real family with Joel) , but she herself had doubts. In episode 6 she asks with very distant emotion and clear doubt whether or not the vaccine works and she doesn't say any more about it beacuse they and up talking about Sam. Ellie not only didn't sign up to die, she wasn't sure it would work.

I personally think Ellie wanted to finish this at the end, partially to make Joel proud. The things they'd been through, and on multiple occasions she tries to pretend shes stronger then she is (crying after shooting that guy only to wipe her tears away and pretend shes cool about it when Joel comes in the room). She now knows what they have but she wants to make him proud that she didn't give up. She has been quiet and nervous since entering Salt Lake City to the point Joel asks her about it and then when he gently says she can change her mind shes caught. She wants the only father shes ever known to be proud that she saved the world and caught between Marlene telling her it all falls on her shoulders alone.

People seem to mostly agree that Ellie at the end knows Joel is lying, but doesn't push it. But where I disagree is when they say her trust is broken. Its not. I think shes quiet on the way to Jackson because shes upset Joel is lying and she's also trying desperately to figure out what could have happened in the hospital that Joel lies about the entire thing. And I think her saying okay at the end isn't really to Joel.

Its that she decides, it's okay that he lied. It's okay because she trusts that Joel did what he did to protect her beacuse he has always done that from day one. Its why when Joel loses it in episode 1 Ellie has a torn look about her. The only person whose ever defended her like that is Riley but that was in a far more kid vs kid protecting the girl she likes manner. Joel was different then that and even from other adults.

She doesnt know why he did it much like she doesnt know why Joel is lying to her. But it's okay. Beacuse now she knows for sure its not angry or malicious. This time she knows its from a place of love and I think Ellie starts to heal from this point on.

Joel was right to do what he did, he was right to lie to a traumatized child to not add to what he knows is already survivors guilt and I think Ellies trust never wavers.

Ellie knows Joel better in the show then the game because they open up to each other much earlier and theres much more new added context to it. Theres no distrust here.

The lie isn't a set up for future problems. The lie is Joel wants to keep the worst from her until he's sure she isn't still trauma ridden and Ellie not only decides she still trusts Joel. But I think she understands why Joel lied and it only serves to strengthen it.

Shared traumatic experiences do not tear apart. It bonds peoe together.

Last thoughts: I think the flashback with Anna is legitimate but I think Marlenes flashback is purposley scued memory to justify her actions in present day. I don't think the umbilical cord conversation happened at all. I think Marlene is inventing things to eellivate the guilt of her own monstrous actions. Also I apply real world science here because its fun, and I can say for sure no amount of experiments or tests on Ellie could produce a vaccine. Its impossible and fungal infections do not act the way viruses or bacterial infections do. I think Marlene is just desperate to win a losing war and by doing this I think she is not evil but has genuinly deluded herself into thinking that she can do the impossible. And I think she purposley found the only doctor who agrees to do this, because absolutely no doctor or scientist worth their salt would think Ellies immunity had anything to do with making a cure and his moral corruption to kill a child is far more monstrous then anything Joel did all season. So the vaccine in my opinion is bogus, I think its just the delusional actions of a group of failed rebels clinging to any power even if its just having power of a childs life. Its all bogus. The first two episodes started clearly that by the time the outbreak happened, not only was there absolutely no evidence of a cure or vaccine possible, but on outbreak day they didn't even know that the cordyceps jumped the species barrier. There is no cure.

But society is already healing. Jackson is proof that its not power or control that heals. It's love. Love and respect. Funny enough the only other place that works is Boston, which tells me that its not FEDRA itself thats the problem, its the individuals in charge. We see it in Kong in episode 7, FEDRA sees thenselves exactly like the fireflies do. But they are both wrong. Beacuse its not with violence and command does Jackson work, its community and freedom. Hell even the indigenous couple proves that. There wasnt even any animosity for Joel pointing a gun at them beacuse they all understood that the way normal peolle survive is through supporting eachother. The man immediately apologizes about being dismissive of his brother because support is what holds life together.

Summary cus I talk too much: I don't consider any future games, existing sequels, or future seasons to be canon. The Last of Us was never intended to have a future. It was a closed story of healing through love and I think the show showed this between Joel and Ellie better then the game did and thats where I'd prefer the story stay.

(.......ignore that my longest series is literally me continuing the story....i didnt base my story off the cycle of horrifc theme of hate and vengeful violence based on the Isreal/Palestine contlict I continued the theme of healing through love so im allowed to write more of this story beacuse i didnt decide that the story about love triumphing hate and violence ends with love causing hate and violence.....)

[auggielovesreading]

Security Breach is the WORST game in the franchise.

Let me explain.

Now, hear me out. This might get hate because, as we all know, when SB was released the entire FNAF spotlight shifted to it. Everyone was talking about it and the fandom grew 10x bigger overnight. From a gameplay point of view it was amazing. The graphics were really cool and the free roaming was well designed, but that was about it. To me it played like the knock off FNAF games people developed in 2015, almost FNAF, but not enough. Let’s be honest here, the characters just didn’t feel like Five Nights at Freddy‘s characters. I know they’re meant to be modernized versions of the original crew, but it wasn’t well executed. Freddy and Chica remained in the game, but Foxy and Bonnie were completely written out. Not to mention the complete bastardization of Freddy and Chica.  I loved Glamrock Freddy while playing the game solely because I do believe he was meant to be possessed by the ghost of Michael Afton, which is such a cool viewpoint to be lead by the character you’ve been playing as since 2014. It was fun in the moment but still didn’t translate to Five Nights at Freddy’s.

One of the best things about FNAF is that it has a very signature feeling to it. I think that feeling was lost at Sister Location. The characters we see in these games have the same basic design but we’re completely lost in translation. Freddy has been overdeveloped, between OG Freddy, glamrock Freddy, withered Freddy, shadow Freddy, toy Freddy, nightmare Freddy, twisted Freddy, golden Freddy, Lefty? Not to mention the others that I literally do not have it in me to name. There’s just TOO MANY!

Serious question. How did a single dad running a pizzeria afford the materials it would take to make over 100 animatronics? One animatronic costs anywhere from 10,000 to 1,000,000 depending on the quality. These ones are massive and have free movement, allowing them to roam on their own without coding to do so, these things would probably cost about 700,000 dollars each (probably more. definitely more but whatever.) You’re seriously telling me this man spent 70M dollars on animatronics just to shove some kids souls in there? No way.

And let’s address the elephant in the room, SB is a children’s game. Sure, there’s some measly jump scares, but it’s the children’s equivalent of the original games. The original games featured the eerie 8-bit murder scenes and bone chilling lore of the heartless child serial killer luring kids to the back room of his pizzeria and slaughtering them, only to shove their corpses into the suits of the characters he made. Never once in security breach did I ever feel a hint of fear or that signature eeriness that made the old games so amazing. If you play security breach to the end, you escape the pizzeria and woohoo yippee no scary suits or child murder or anything. Where’s the fun in that? In past games the endings have still left you feeling weird. Like burning down a building (and yourself) or being reminded that you have to come back the next week, or just flat out being brutally murdered anyway. My personal favourite has to be in Help Wanted (the VR game) when, despite completing the game, you’re led by glitch trap to the back where there’s a more than creepy birthday display for you, complete with your favourite lifeless animatronics sat against the wall and our signature rabbit leading you to the back room, cut to you standing on stage and realizing that you’re now trapped in the bear suit you so loved as a kid! AMAZING! Experiencing it in VR is absolutely chilling and I never got that feeling from SB. It’s just too Disneyish.

Anyways.  It was also a huge part of the plot that the Freddy Fazbears Pizzerias’s were unable to stay open for long because of the reputation. Five Nights at Freddy’s 3 was literally set in a haunted house they made based on the restaurant. A company that can only continue making profit making a haunted attraction based on the horrific tragedies that took place in their establishments would not go on to continue making very successful multi-level MALL SIZED attractions in the future. Does nobody care that every single building this company has made, people have been horrifically murdered in? specifically children? To put it plainly, SB’s restaurant would’ve never existed in the first place. The modern setting alongside the crappy lore being added to the plot completely ruins the feeling of Security Breach. The characters we’ve all grown to love and the setting and timeline thats held the story together have been detached and destroyed. Nothing is holding SB to the FNAF franchise besides its tiny additions to the lore. Oh great, William is back from hell? For shits and gigs?

To sum it all up, I miss that straight out of 2014 feel that FNAF games 1-4 clung onto so well, but it’s been ruined and I don’t think it’s gonna get any better. Let’s all pray that the movie is set STRICTLY in the universe of the first few games, because I stg.

(I love fnaf. This definitely may have made me seem like I don’t but I 100% do and could sit down and give you the entire lore in about 20 minutes. This is just the harsh truth)

[sparrowwright]

The Passion Principle:  How Loving Your Job Can Backfire

Have you ever been super excited about working on a new project? Maybe it’s a piece of woodworking, or a drawing, or a song you’re writing, or whatever other hobbies you just love to do. But whatever it is, you just can’t wait to get home and start working on it again. You have a feeling that this is really going to be something great. It’s not just the final product that keeps you hooked, though:  the process itself is satisfying too. Doing something you love is fulfilling in a multitude of different ways. As you’re happily chipping away at that amazing project, you think to yourself, wouldn’t it be wonderful if I just did this for a living?

Many people have thought that exact same thing. In fact, passion-led careers are often the most sought-after. According to The Atlantic article Loving Your Job is a Capitalist Trap, over 75% of college-educated workers say that passion is an important part of finding a career that suits them, and 16% say that they would rather have meaningful work than a high-paying or stable job, or a healthy work/life balance (Cech). When it comes to career advice, it is always seen as a positive to go for a career that you have some passion for. Everybody, it seems, wants a job that is rewarding outside of just a paycheck.

In this essay, we will go over (1) what it means to have a rewarding job, and what it means to be “passionate”; (2) what happens when businesses try to capitalize on passion, including a history of “crunch culture” in video games; and (3) some common justifications used for these actions, and why employees endure these conditions.

Many people want to work jobs that have meaning or are fulfilling or rewarding. But what is a rewarding job? Rewarding jobs are jobs that one enjoys doing; these can be creative, transformative, relaxing, or challenging. Whatever the case may be, the main component of a “rewarding” job is that the worker is passionate about working. Maybe you’re an artist, or a music producer, or a videogame level-designer. You might sometimes go above and beyond when you become really invested in a project in ways that, say, a bank teller just wouldn’t. When a labor of necessity becomes a labor of love, you’ll stretch yourself out trying to achieve your goal.

This is quite common for an artist to experience. An artist might neglect all other facets of life, like food, sleep, or socializing if they are extremely focused on completing a project that they are passionate about. Disrupting an artist’s focus can throw off their “groove,” as one might say, and it can be difficult to get back on track. I know that whenever I’m extremely focused on finishing a drawing, I can be sitting at my desk for hours getting all the details right and not even realize that time has passed. There is nothing inherently wrong with putting more hours into a project that you like working on.

When passion meets paycheck, however, several ethical issues can arise. First, is it ethical for companies to profit off of workers’ extra, uncompensated labor just because of their passion? It’s been observed that many companies will specifically seek out passionate employees just because they are more likely to do additional unpaid labor (Cech). Companies do this because workers who enjoy their labor are more likely to work faster, more efficiently, or extra hours, even when they are not being paid. This is great for companies, because they get work done at a higher quality, faster, and at less cost. However, it can lead to passionate employees being uncompensated for a lot of their work.

Another problem arises when an employee is expected to work those unpaid hours outside of their own volition. That above-and-beyond approach fueled by pure excitement is then treated as a new standard. When the average employee is expected to work just as fervidly as the most passionate worker, it can lead to exhaustion, burnout, and numerous negative effects to mental health.

In the video games industry, depending on the studio, it’s not at all uncommon to see employees work for 70- to even 100-hour workweeks (Gilbert). Co-workers will even work extra hours alongside overworked colleagues in solidarity (Shreier). Extraordinarily long workweeks, though it puts undo pressure and stress onto the employees who have to scramble and stretch themselves thin to get their work done on time, are just part of the culture of some studios.

This phenomenon is so common that it actually has a name: “Crunch.” Crunch is when a game studio makes its employees work extreme and unethical hours to meet a deadline, oftentimes just to set another deadline as soon as the first one is finished. This destructive cycle will repeat until the game is released. Many studios are guilty of engaging in crunch culture; but a notable selection, and some of the most widely known, are Telltale Games, Rockstar Games, Electronic Arts (often abbreviated to EA), and even Cary, North Carolina’s own local game publisher:  Epic Games.

In November of 2004, an essay was posted on Live Journal called “EA: The Human Story,” by a user, Erin Hoffman, known at the time as “ea_spouse.” The post detailed the harsh and unethical work environment that EA forced upon its workforce during the development of Lord of the Rings: The Battle for Middle Earth (Gameqol). At the same time, employees filed a class-action lawsuit against EA for similar business practices. The lawsuit was successful, and the graphic designers received a $15 million settlement while the programmers received $14 million.

Many other whistleblowers have followed in ea_spouse’s footsteps:  for example, an anonymous employee of a different videogame developer, Rockstar Games, calling themselves “Rockstar Spouse,” posted a letter to Gamasutra Blogs in 2004 detailing similar workplace abuses at Rockstar Games (Gameqol). It’s safe to say that the open letter and subsequent successful lawsuit sent ripples through the games industry and continues to reverberate today. However, though the issue of worker’s rights in and outside of the games industry has been ever-present and increasingly more pressing, little has changed over those 15 years (Lefebvre, “EA”). Workers are still rarely paid overtime, and crunch culture has not slowed down a bit.

A more recent and massively popular game is Fortnite, an online multiplayer first-person shooter developed by Epic Games Studio that first launched in 2011. Many people find this game absurdly fun, but its creation came at a great cost. One Epic Games employee told Polygon, “I work an average 70 hours a week, there’s probably at least 50 or even 100 other people at Epic working those hours. I know people who pull 100-hour weeks" (Gilbert). Another employee said, “I hardly sleep. I'm grumpy at home. I have no energy to go out. Getting a weekend away from work is a major achievement."

Grueling labor has more than a mental effect on workers. Physical symptoms can arise from overworking as well. Game designer Clint Hocking reported memory loss as a result of crunching on a game. Brett Douville, a respected veteran of game development, described being temporarily unable to step out of his car after working on a game too hard (Schreier).

Similar reports came out of Rockstar Games where they were caught actively bragging about their crunch period when working on Red Dead Redemption 2. Responding to backlash on Twitter for boasting about their 100-hour work weeks, Rockstar Studios asserted that nobody at Rockstar was being “forced” to work those hours, but that they simply put in “additional effort” as a “choice” (Lefebvre, “Rockstar”). “We have some senior people who work very hard purely because they’re passionate about a project, or their particular work, and we believe that passion shows in the games we release. But that additional effort is a choice, and we don’t ask or expect anyone to work anything like this” (Lefebvre, “Rockstar”).

This is a great example of what is called “the passion principle.” The passion principle is defined by Erin A. Cech as “the prioritization of fulfilling work even at the expense of job security or a decent salary.” The passion principle is something many companies that oversee creative or fulfilling jobs seek out in workers. Though not as obviously morally wrong as practices like overseas child slave labor, passion exploitation is still a form of exploitation that often escapes our attention (Kim, 3). Writing in The Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, Jae Yun Kim uses the term “passion exploitation” to refer to a means of justifying exploitation of workers on the excuse that the workers are just naturally passionate about the subject and are glad to do the uncompensated work of their own choice, even if it is demanding or outside of the job description (Kim, 6). Kim further defines the term as “maltreatment of workers that uses attributions and assumptions of passion as a justifying tool” (Kim, 5).

There have been studies on the passion principle that show how effective it can be. In the essay “Love Your Job? Someone May be Taking Advantage of You,” Aaron Kay found that participants who were given a situation where a worker was being exploited by their boss were more likely to say that the exploitation was justified if the worker was more passionate about their job rather than less passionate. This exploitation included being asked to do work that was not in the job description, such as leaving a day with family at the park to clean the office bathroom (Kay).

But why would someone being passionate about a job they’re doing lead to employers thinking it was okay to exploit those people for additional or excessive labor? Do they really think what they’re doing is justified? There are two cornerstones to the justification of passion exploitation: first, the belief that, to the enthused employee, work is its own reward; and second, the belief that the worker would have volunteered to do the labor anyways, just out of sheer enjoyment (Kim, 10).

The belief that work is its own reward is widely held. In South Korea, some workers use the term “passion wages” to cheekily refer to the expectation that they should work for little to no pay because it is presumed that the work itself is its own reward (Kim, 5). Likewise, it has been proven via study that there is a correlation between a job’s perceived passion and people’s belief in the legitimacy of its exploitation on the basis that the worker would have volunteered for the work regardless (Kim, 20).

But a counterargument to the passion exploitation theory is that, while sometimes employees put in extra hours on their work, and sometimes employers benefit from this free labor, if it really is the employee’s choice, then what does it matter? Wouldn’t forcing an artist away from the work that they’re passionate about be counterproductive and borderline cruel? That would be a good argument if employees truly did choose to work overtime. But, in most cases, this is not exactly true. If an employer asks an employee to do a menial task that is outside of the job description, like cleaning an office bathroom, it can look like the employee has a free choice in the matter and can decline if they so choose. But, to the trained eye, the power dynamic is obvious:  an employer has a substantial amount of power over an employee, like controlling their job security and promotions. It is likely that an employee may not feel entirely safe saying “no” to an employer for fear of some sort of repercussions (Kim, 7). Going back to the videogames industry, crunch culture happens when people “crunch” to meet a deadline. If that deadline is not met, it will result in dire consequences. People may lose their jobs, their livelihoods, or they may be demoted. This does not give the employees a meaningful choice about whether or not they want to crunch.

To conclude, people often prioritize fulfilling or enjoyable work over high-paying, stable, or less demanding jobs. Companies will seek these people out, because they can be coerced to provide free labor if they are passionate about their jobs. Some companies will hire passionate employees and then work them arduous and unethical hours on the excuse that they should be loving it, since they love this line of work. Employers justify their actions by saying that the work is its own reward, and that the employees would have volunteered for this work anyway if they had the chance. Employees often endure this treatment because of intimidation inherent in the power dynamics of the workplace. Employees need protection in the form of effective workplace regulation to avoid falling victim to their own “passion”.

Works Cited

Cech, Erin A. “Loving Your Job Is a Capitalist Trap.” The Atlantic, 12 Nov. 2021, www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2021/11/danger-really-loving-your-job/620690/.

“EA Spouse.” GameQoL, www.gameqol.org/ea-spouse/. Accessed 4 Oct. 2022.

Gilbert, Ben. “Video Game Industry ‘Crunch Culture’ Explained: Epic, Rockstar, EA.” Business Insider, 9 May 2019, www.businessinsider.com/video-game-development-problems-crunch-culture-ea-rockstar-epic-explained-2019-5#a-trio-of-recent-blockbusters-red-dead-redemption-2-anthem-and-fortnite-are-the-subjects-of-major-investigations-detailing-the-messy-work-of-creating-blockbuster-games-4.

Kay, Aaron. “Love Your Job? Someone May Be Taking Advantage of You.” www.fuqua.duke.edu, 24 Apr. 2019, www.fuqua.duke.edu/duke-fuqua-insights/kay-passion-exploitation.

Kim, Jae Yun et al. “Understanding Contemporary Forms of Exploitation: Attributions of Passion Serve to Legitimize the Poor Treatment of Workers.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, vol. 118,1 (2020): 121-148. doi:10.1037/pspi0000190.

Lefebvre, Eliot. “EA Spouse Was 15 Years Ago, and Not Much Has Changed in Games Development.” Massively Overpowered, 11 Nov. 2019, massivelyop.com/2019/11/11/ea-spouse-was-15-years-ago-and-not-much-has-really-changed-in-development/.

Lefebvre, Eliot. “Rockstar Boasts of 100-Hour Work Weeks on Red Dead Redemption 2.” Massively Overpowered, 15 Aug. 2018, massivelyop.com/2018/10/15/rockstar-boasts-of-100-hour-work-weeks-on-red-dead-redemption-2/.

Schreier, Jason. “Opinion | Video Games Are Destroying the People Who Make Them.” The New York Times, 25 Oct. 2017, www.nytimes.com/2017/10/25/opinion/work-culture-video-games-crunch.html?searchResultPosition=5.