#you voted to have it be a single update

[dipplinduo]

[Sweet & Sour Dipplins]: I have had this meme on deck for literal months & I can finally share it

Well, it's at least how I view it lololol. So we got a little less than 24 hours before the Big Reveal (aka the start of the climax of the story), so I just wanted to give this one for the road. xD I am both excited and anticipatory about releasing the chapter! But I am hoping it's a twist that feels intriguing to read, and either way, I am super appreciative of all of you for supporting my work. Seriously. The fic almost has a 30,000 hit milestone & I just passed a 400 page mark with Chapter 20. I would've never, never imagined being disciplined and motivated enough to continue a story for this long, let alone fathom the overwhelming amount of celebration for an idea that has been able to evolve so much because of the way you have all nurtured it and my passion.

Writing has always been a passive passion of mine, and I feel more and more encouraged and inspired to go for a bucket list item of writing my own full book series because of how much you all have shown me what I am capable of doing in a manner of months.

This chapter isn't goodbye for Sweet & Sour Dipplins just yet, of course. There aren't too many bait-and-switches left either, but ohohoho, I'd be super impressed with anyone who would be able to predict where I'm going immediately after Chapter 21... :) <3

With love,

dipplinduo

[wren-kitchens]

you ever see someone complain about something in a game that makes you think they just don’t like the game itself because why are you complaining about that. that's universally loved and your complaint is that it 'could do more'. where is your whimsy

[moniquill]

Here is a brief summary of what is happening in Wikipedia right now:

In the last few years (3-4 years) the WikiProject Indigenous peoples of North America, which was originally created to improve the quality and coverage of native issues and native articles on wikipedia, has been hijacked by a small number of users with an extremist agenda. They have been working diligently over the last few years to change the definition of both what it means to be an Indigenous American and even what it means to be state and federally recognized.

The four or five key players (Mainly Editor Yuchitown, Bohemian Baltimore, ARoseWolf, (now retired editor CorbieVreccan, Netherzone and Oncamera) who are part of the “Native American Articles Improvement Project” started implementing these changes slowly, but they started pursuing their goals aggressively after November 2023, when state-recognized tribes retained their voting rights in NCAI. Essentially, after the movement to delegitimize state-recognized tribes failed officially, the key players doubled down on altering and controlling the flow of information about Native Americans through Wikipedia.

The talk page of Lily Gladstone’s article has a relevant discussion here. Initially, the leaders of the WikiProject removed any reference to her being a “Native American Actress” and instead had her as “Self-identifying as Blackfoot” and “Self-identifying as Nez Perce” because her blood quantum was too low to be enrolled in either tribe.

You can see some of the discussion here:

 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talk:Lily_Gladstone

Eventually they relented and changed her category to being “Of Nez Perce Descent” but you can see in the discussion that they are referring to an article that these editors (Yuchitown, Bohemian Baltimore, and CorbieVreccan) themselves appeared to have mostly written and revised:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Native_American_identity_in_the_United_States

This statement is very much at odds with even the government’s description, as seen below;

The DOJ Office of Tribal Justice Office on their webpage “Frequently Asked Questions About Native American”, question “Who is an American Indian or Alaskan Native” states:

“As a general principle, an Indian is a person who is of some degree Indian blood and is recognized as an Indian by a Tribe and/or the United States. No single federal or tribal criterion establishes a person's identity as an Indian. Government agencies use differing criteria to determine eligibility for programs and services. Tribes also have varying eligibility criteria for membership.”

In addition, “List” pages have been created on Wikipedia for federally and state recognized tribes. The Wikipedia “List” page for state-recognized tribes is inaccurate in its interpretation of state recognition and not supported by expert reliable sources--(1) Cohen’s Handbook of Federal Indian Law 2012 edition, (2) NCSL.org current stand on state recognition (not the archived list from 2017 which NCSL no longer supports), (3) Koenig & Stein’s paper “Federalism and the State Recognition of Native American Tribes: a survey of state-recognized tribes and state recognition processes across the United States” (both 2008 & updated 2013 in book “ Recognition, sovereignty struggles, and indigenous rights in the United States: A sourcebook”)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/State-recognized_tribes_in_the_United_States

State-recognized tribes who have received recognition through less formal but acceptable means have been moved from the Wikipedia list page on state-recognized tribes to the Wikipedia list page of unrecognized or self-identifying organizations.

The Wiki page "List of organizations that self-identify as Native American tribes", in particular, is being used to purposely defame legitimate Native American individuals who are members of the tribes/Native communities that are on this list. 

By the parameters set up on Wikipedia, only the colonizer’s governments can acknowledge who is Native American through either federal recognition or state recognition. If an individual is not a member of a federally or state-recognized tribe, then it is determined that they cannot be Native American and are, instead, considered “self-identifying” or only “a descendant of ...” (example Lily Gladstone). As a result, Native individuals are currently being tagged as “self-identifying” and their names are put on “list” pages that strongly imply they are “pretend” Indians.

These editors have indicated that they would like “self-identification” to be the default setting for any people who they deem do not fit within the parameters that they themselves created within Wikipedia.

Moreof, these editors are admin and senior editors within the Wikiproject Indigenous Peoples of North America, and are being called in specifically to weigh on Native Identity, and any project involving any Indigenous Group.

Any attempt to correct misinformation, add information, or change any of these articles is often met with being blocked, reported for various offenses, or reported for having a Conflict of Interest, whether or not that is actually applicable. They have use this strategically in many different pages for many different individuals and groups within the scope of their Wikiprojects.

While changing things in Wikipedia does not change the truth, it is a way to control how most people take in information, and thus they hope to manipulate the narrative to better suit their goals.

This is quick and messy but:

Here is a link to the google document with the other state recognized tribes (Including yours) that were edited by these editors. This is an incomplete list so far that only goes back to September 2023 but I am going to add to it. If you can add to your own part of this list, and send your complaints and information to the arbitrator committee (the email is below) with the involved editors, this will help our case.

The  more tribes who complain, and the more Wikipedia editors complain, the better our case will be. 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YNDEjLTrrZ_mMIRCVxtvt69FwCYpJWKs71lBhWa5a9M/edit?usp=sharing

The place to make complaints on Wikipedia is oversight-en-wpwikipedia.org , and

arbcom-enwikimedia.org . It is most helpful to have an editing account on Wikipedia, because Yuchitown and the others will try to defend themselves using Wikipedia methodology and make anyone who confronts them look like the aggressor (see the other tribes who tried to fight back on Wikipedia I found).

The more people and tribes make complaints the more likely it is that this will work and we can rid ourselves of these monsters.

Some of the tribes I have spoken to are taking legal action against these editors. Any groups affected by their policies should also reach out to the news to make knowledge of this more widespread.

Thank you

- quoted with permission from an email sent by an associate of my tribe. Message me for their email address if you'd like to reach out to them.

[gaviymarcsbride]

Y’all I genuinely urge you to stay up to date with world politics.

In my country, Venezuela, elections have just been held and the blatant disrespect that the so called government have for their people is astonishing.

How can they claim that Nicolas Maduro, one of the most hated dictators of our time, won 51%/5+ million votes?

How is it possible that he won when the voting panels have been updating every hour how Edmundo Gonzalez (the opposing candidate) has been winning by TRIPLE the vote?

How is it possible that most of the 7.3 million Venezuelan immigrants can’t vote and have no say in what goes on the country that gave them life?

How is it possible that Venezuelans have to fear for their life in voting stations because the military are set there to prevent them from voting?

How is it possible that the pig that’s called president is currently celebrating his “well-earned” victory?

Countries like Chile and Peru are already making statements that they will not recognize the results given by the CNE (the Venezuelan electoral system)

FREAKING ELON MUSK IS MAKING TWEETS REGARDING THE SITUATION

I think it’s sickening how all people can do is talk about it and not do a single thing about it, especially because as a society we try to condemn any harm to human rights just like how we did Russia, who by the way, is one of the dictatorships biggest supporters.

VENEZUELA HAS BEEN FACING AN HUMANITARIAN CRISIS!!!!

People have been facing literal hell since the late 90s and people in power DO. NOT. CARE.

Educate yourself, educate others, and most importantly TALK ABOUT IT, because I’m certain we’re not the first or the last country to go through this.

This is as much as I’ll say.

I hope they all rot in hell.

🇻🇪

[amphiptere]

Where is the "by vibe" option

I have a question

[claredanko]

mutual 1: got in a car accident today didnt have time to masturbate bc i had to exchange insurance info with the other guy but i think i have a chance of hooking up with him bc he drove a ford

mutual 2: call me throat cancer the way peter tork could get it

mutual 3: (500 reblogs of a robert de niro/martin scorsese yaoi photoshop edit)

mutual 4: i think love will always be there. even when you wish it werent. (gif of rotating monkeys)

mutual 5: breaking news stephen stills stopped taking estradiol because it made him experience menopause symptoms

mutual 6: who would be the first member of the beastie boys to get an abortion i vote ad rock

mutual 7: (web weaving post dedicated to descriptions of nonsexual intimacy in an air fryer instruction manual)

mutual 8: heres a link to my google drive containing every single article on jstor its continuously updated but please DM me if ive missed one.

mutual 9: (poll) my psychiatrist told me i might be the cause for my relationship issues with the elderly gay couple ive been practicing bdsm with should i kill the psychiatrist or myself?

mutual 10: giys im scared

mutual 11: trent reznor has never washed his pussy but id still eat it every day #feminist

mutual 12: went for a walk and got some coffee. the sun is shining, children are playing on the street and life is wonderful

mutual 13: drafting my suicide note while on hold with the bank rn

mutual 14: (photo of the most gorgeous plate of food imaginable) quick dinner tonight! didnt have time to sous vide the quail so i opted for a quick braise - still turned out delicious!

mutual 15: sooo.... apparently my city has been cursed with an eternal night for like 3 years and i didnt notice? kinda gerardcore if you u ask me..

[drdemonprince]

It’s true that America has one of the lowest voter turnout rates in the industrialized world, with only 62% of eligible adults turning up to the polls on a good year, and about 50% on a typical one. But if we really dive into the social science data, we can see that non-voters aren’t a bunch of nihilistic commie layabouts who’d prefer to die in a bridge collapse or of an untreated listeria infection than vote for someone who isn’t Vladimir Lenin. No, if we really study it carefully, we can see that the American electoral system has a series of unique features that easily account for why we find voting more cumbersome, confusing, and unrewarding than almost any other voters in the world.

Let’s take a look at the many reasons why Americans don’t vote:

1. We Have the Most Frequent Elections of Any Country

Most other democratic countries only hold major elections once every four or five years, with the occasional local election in between. This is in sharp contrast with the U.S., where we have some smattering of primaries, regional elections, state elections, ballot measures, midterm elections, and national elections basically every single year, often multiple times per year. We have elections more frequently than any other nation in the world — but just as swallowing mountains of vitamin C tablets doesn’t guarantee better health, voting more and harder hasn’t given us more democracy.

2. We Don’t Make Election Day a Holiday

The United States also does far less than most other democracies to facilitate its voters getting to the polls. In 22 countries, voting is legally mandated, and turnout is consequently very high; most countries instead make election day a national holiday, or hold elections on weekends. The United States, in contrast, typically holds elections on weekdays, during work hours, with minimal legal protections for employees whose only option to vote is on the clock.

3. We Make Registration as Hard as Possible

From Denmark, to Sweden, to Iceland, Belgium, and Iraq, all eligible voters in most democracies are automatically registered to vote upon reaching legal adulthood. Voting is typically regarded as a rite of passage one takes part in alongside their classmates and neighbors, made part of the natural flow of the country’s bureaucratic processes.

In the United States, in contrast, voter registration is a process that the individual must seek out — or more recently, be goaded into by their doctor. Here voting is not a communal event, it’s a personal choice, and failing to make the correct choice at the correct time can be penalized. In most other countries, there are no restrictions on when a voter can register, but in much of the United States, registering too early can mean you get stricken from the voter rolls by the time the election rolls around, and registering too late means you’re barred from voting at all.

4. We Make Voters Re-Register Far Too Often

In countries like Canada, Germany, and the Netherlands, voter registration updates automatically when a person moves. In the United State, any time a person changes addresses they must go out of their way to register to vote all over again. This policy disadvantages poorer and younger voters, who move frequently because of job and schooling changes, or landlords who have decided to farm black mold colonies in their kitchens.

Even if a voter does not change their address, in the United States it’s quite common for their registrations to be removed anyway— due to name changes, marriages, data breaches, or simply because the voter rolls from the previous election year have been purged to “prevent fraud” (read: eliminate Black, brown, poor, and left-leaning members from the electorate).

5. We Limit Access to Polling Places & Mail-in Ballots

In many countries, voters can show up to any number of polling places on election day, and showing identification is not always necessary. Here in the United States, the ability to vote is typically restricted to a single polling place. Voter ID laws have been used since before the Jim Crow era to make political participation more difficult for Black, brown, and impoverished voters, as well as for those for whom English is not their first language. Early and absentee voting options are also pretty firmly restricted. About a quarter of democracies worldwide rely on mail-in ballots to make voting more accessible for everyone; here, a mail-in ballot must be requested in advance.

All of these structural barriers help explain why just over 50% of non-voters in the United States are people of color, and a majority of non-voters have been repeatedly found to be impoverished and otherwise marginalized. But these populations don’t only feel excluded from the political process on a practical level: they also report feeling completely unrepresented by the available political options.

6. We Have the Longest, Most Expensive Campaign Seasons

Americans have some of the longest campaign seasons in the world, with Presidential elections lasting about 565 days on average. For reference, the UK’s campaign season is 139 days, Mexico’s is 147, and Canada’s is just 50. We also do not have publicly funded campaigns: our politicians rely upon donors almost entirely.

Because our elections are so frequent and our campaigns are so long and expensive, many American elected officials are in a nearly constant state of fundraising and campaigning. When you take into account the time devoted to organizing rallies, meeting with donors, courting lobbyists, knocking on doors, recording advertisements, and traveling the campaign trail, most federally elected politicians spend more time trying to win their seat than actually doing their jobs.

Imagine how much work you’d get done if you had to interview for your job every day. And now imagine that the person actually paying your wage didn’t want you to do that job at all:

7. Our Elected Officials Do Very Little

Elected officials who spend the majority of their hours campaigning and courting donors don’t have much time to get work done. Nor do they have much incentive to — in practice, their role is to represent the large corporations, weapons manufacturers, Silicon Valley start-ups, and investors who pay their bills, and serve as a stopgap when the public’s demands run afoul of those groups’ interests.

Perhaps that is why, as campaign seasons have gotten longer and more expensive and income inequality has grown more stark, our elected officials have become lean-out quiet quitters of historic proportions. The 118th Congress has so far been the least productive session on record, with only 82 laws having been passed in last two years out of the over 11,000 brought to the floor.

The Biden Administration has moved at a similarly glacial pace; aside from leaping for the phone when Israel calls requesting checking account transfers every two or three weeks, the executive-in-chief has done little but fumble at student loan relief and abortion protections, and bandied about banning TikTok.

The average age of American elected officials has been on a steady rise for some time now, with the obvious senility of figures like Biden, Mitch McConnell, and the late Diane Feinstein serving as the most obvious markers of the government’s stagnancy. Carting around a confused, ailing elderly person’s body around the halls of power like a decommissioned animatronic requires a depth of indifference to human suffering that few of us outside Washington can fathom. But more than that, it reflects a desperation for both parties to cling to what sources of influence and wealth they have. These aged figures are/were reliable simps for Blackstone, General Dynamics, Disney, and AIPAC, and their loyalty is worth far more than their cognitive capacity, or legislative productivity. Their job, in a very real sense, is to not do their job, and a beating-heart cadaver can do that just fine.

You can read the rest of the list for free (or have it narrated to you on the Substack app) at drdevonprice.substack.com!

[fullhalalalchemist]

URGENT: Congress about to pass a mass censorship and surveillance bill under the guise of "protecting children"

May 13 2023

The Senate has been in a "do something!" mode regarding children's online safety. They're using this as an excuse to push for widespread internet censorship and surveillance. The EARN IT Act, has a slimmer chance of passing with widespread opposition and some senators saying they won't vote for it. TLDR;The real threat is actually KOSA (s.1409), the Kid's Online Safety Act, which will mass censor and surveill the entire internet by giving all 50 state attorney generals the power to remove content that is "harmful" for kids, and force you to upload your govt ID online to access the internet. I'll explain how it works below the action items but it's absolutely urgent that anyone who likes having a free and open internet fights back. It's all hands on deck, because this has so much public support it's insane:

HOW TO FIGHT KOSA

CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES & THE COMMERCE COMMITTEE

This is a link to the Senate Commerce Committee phone numbers and a call script to read off of. (202) 224-3121 connects you to the congressional hotline

Opposition is getting drowned, and these upcoming weeks will be heavy for lobbying and they're using young people to do it. We NEED to show these senators that young people are actually opposed to this and don't want it.

2. Sign these petitions

Open Letter Against KOSA

Petition 1

Petition 2

Petition 3

Petition 4

Resistbot: Text PHJDYH to 50409

3. Spread the word.

The opposition is getting absolutely drowned online. Dove has nearly 100k signatures to push for KOSA. Influencers on tiktok are pushing for this without ever having read the bill. Fucking Lizzo is sponsoring it. If you have twitter, reddit, tiktok, are in any community, SPREAD THE WORD, PLEASE.

Here is a linktree with all the above petitions for easy shargin: Link to linktree

HOW KOSA WORKS

First, KOSA pressures platforms to install filters that would wipe the net of anything deemed “inappropriate” for minors. This means instructing platforms to censor. We saw how these filters impacted websites firsthand with tumblr in 2018, with not only blocking all adult content but also sfw queer content such as suicide hotlines, art archives, wiping out entire blogs because they had queer fandom related posts, etc. Places that already use content filters have restricted important information about suicide prevention and LGBTQ+ support groups. KOSA would spread this kind of censorship to every corner of the internet. And who gets to decide what is and isn't harmful for minors? Oh don't worry, just every single state attorney general and the FTC, which is appointed by the president. You know, the same attorney generals that just banned gender-affirming healthcare under the guise that it "ruins mental health" of minors. This is why the Heritage Foundation was one of the first to sponsor the bill because they can use it to censor trans content, and Senator Marsha Blackburn of Tennessee is it's co-author.

Second, KOSA would ramp up the online surveillance of all internet users by forcing websites to use age verification and parental monitoring tools. Yup, that's right. Now every single person who wants to access the internet has to upload their govt ID online to third party apps that get hacked all the time. You queer in a red state? You undocumented? You an activist? Have fun getting all your online activity and metadata attached to your govt ID.  

Over 90+ human and LGBT rights groups agree that KOSA is dangerous and updates to the 2023 version won’t and can’t address the big problems with the bill. This bill has MASSIVE bipartisan support, and the authors Blumenthal and Blackburn (yes, that Blumenthal that's pushing the EARN IT Act, and who also sponsored the RESTRICT Act and SOPA/PIPA if you remember) are using the tragedy of mothers who lost their kids to online harassment and young adults who've been traumatized online to lobby for it, and got Dove the company to use a bunch of influencers to push for this under the guise it prevents eating disorders...I wish I was lying. There are already 30 co-sponsors.

It is all hands on deck. I'm dead serious when I say if this bill is passed it is the beginning if not end of the open and free internet.

[hedgehog-moss]

I bought a roll of chicken netting to fence off my vegetable garden—which I haven't planted yet because it's been raining every single day for like two months and I didn't want my young tomato plants to rot, but the weather is finally improving. I'll plant my garden next week, and I wanted to trim the grass around it and clear the area of weeds, but then I remembered I have animals that can do this job.

So I opened the pasture in front of the (future) garden. Currently it looks like a long pile of dirt, because that's what it is (well, compost + llama manure + dirt)—but look how long it is! I'm feeling ambitious this year and I have quintupled the length of my initial hügelkultur mound.

You might be surprised to learn that Pirlouit was the first animal who noticed the opening in the fence and got out. It's not actually surprising because Pirou has a fresh grass-dar—but Pampe was very much surprised & vexed.

Everyone looked really happy to have access to this new little area!

Initially I thought I would be able to continue preparing the garden while they were eating, but I quickly realised I was too paranoid for that. I mean, it's Pampe vs. a small temporary fence meant for chickens. Enough said. I didn't dare to turn my back on her even for a minute, so I ended up just sitting in the grass next to them with a book, which was really nice.

Pampe decided to lie down in the grass to eat more comfortably, something Pirlouit still deeply disapproves of.

Poldine however thinks it's a brilliant idea.

Update: all my llamas are now horizontal, eating like three Roman emperors. Only Pirlouit continues to mind his table manners.

Of course this peacefulness couldn't last, and after stuffing herself with new grass for half an hour, Pampe remembered there was also a new fence to think about.

She decided to lie down again 5 centimetres away from it, so she could inspect it and strategise while maintaining a demeanour of relaxed innocence.

I was not relaxed.

You are exhausting.

At 7:30pm I started feeling torn, because I don't like to miss apéritif time but—could I run to the kitchen to get a glass of apéritif and some biscuits and run back before Pampe had time to do anything? (The kitchen is 15 metres away.) (I feel like this detail doesn't change anything and if I inserted a poll here everyone would massively vote "Pampe will have time to escape")

But you would be wrong!! When I returned from my quick and suspenseful dash to the kitchen, guess who was on the verge of doing something illegal...?

PAMPOLDINE. Bad llama!! She was interested in tasting the flowers on the other side and she was pretty bashful when I shooed her away.

I believe the only reason Pampérigouste didn't escape is because she assumed her daughter was about to, so her family's reputation was maintained, she would get to see me run and curse llamakind and straighten the fence grumpily, and she didn't even have to get up.

Which goes to show that she doesn't escape due to a deep and unquenchable thirst for freedom, but to aggravate me personally.

I settled on my ash wood throne to have apéritif, comfortably seated in full view of all the animals—

—so of course Pampe immediately got up and went to inspect the fence on the other end of this little pen, behind the hazel tree that was blocking my line of sight, in the one place that I couldn't see from my seat.

I had to get up to see what she was doing (and angrily wave a stick in her direction until she moved away) and when I returned to my tree stump there was a little insect swimming in my wine. Pampe lay down again, pleased with herself.

When it was dinner time and I kindly invited everyone to return to the pasture (Pirlouit & Pampelune complied without fuss), Pampe suddenly lay completely flat in the grass, in what was clearly an attempt to make herself invisible and be forgotten all by herself in this barely-fenced area, kind of like children who dream of being locked in a toy shop overnight.

I haven't taken my eyes off you all evening. Of course I can see you.

I had to poke her with my stick until she deigned to get up and leave (Poldine followed), but all in all it was a very successful little outing. I might do this regularly throughout the summer to keep the grass trimmed in this area, although the difficulty level will be greatly increased when I have to patrol the fence and protect my vegetables at the same time.

I'll add that when I went out later in the evening to close the chicken coop, Poldine & Pampelune were far away, grazing together under the plum trees, meanwhile Pirlouit and Pampe were still queueing in front of the part of the fence that was previously open. Both waiting for me to let them access this heavenly garden again (but with different motivations)

[covetyou]

stars and stripes

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: nipple play, novelty underwear, balls, anxiety, democracy, the pledge of allegiance, friendly brotherly contest, alcohol, prelude to oral sex (m! receiving) word count: 5k summary: Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.

A/N: happy 4th of July to folks in the US and happy general election day to my fellow UK pals! If you haven't exercised your right to vote yet, and you're registered, you have until 10pm BST tonight to get to your polling station - as long as you're in line by 10pm, you'll be able to vote. do dress up Joel proud, and go do a democracy.

I make absolutely no apologies for anything in this fic. not a single thing. especially not that thing. tis the season. happy ballidays, pals!

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

As it turned out, Joel knew a guy who knew a guy who could fix your AC, and within two days your house was a safe haven from the burgeoning Texas summer.

Easy as that, apparently. Your desperate attempts to call around HVAC companies the week your AC busted seemed stupid now that it was all a matter of simply knowing a guy.

Not that it was all easy. Letting someone else into your house after everything that had gone on suddenly felt scary, and it took Joel promising you he'd dip from his own job for the afternoon to keep an eye on things for you to feel okay with any of it.

But, even that left an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You'd told him to let himself in, though this time you'd given him a key, and that felt like something. For as many times as he'd broken in, and for as long as you'd left your house open and vulnerable - and, by extension, yourself - handing over your spare keys to Joel for the day felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt with him wandering your house at unknown hours of the day and night.

It felt like something all over again when you handed them over to him the next week too - there was a jammed drawer he wanted to fix, and he said he could get in to see to it before work one day.

Even when you opened the door to him on the nights he didn't have Sarah - his daughter, you'd learned - it felt like something. Especially knowing that that spare key now sat attached to his own, jingling in his pocket each time he walked into your home, invited.

And the more somethings it felt like, the less you felt like figuring it out.

It continued the same way for weeks. Him moving back and forth the short distance between his home and yours, while you stayed safely cocooned in your own, cool, four walls.

Then, barely one month into this officially unofficial something that you were, it was finally time for you to make that short journey down the street to Joel's.

Being honest, the thought of it had terrified you, and you'd almost backed out multiple times.

Not because it was Joel, or Joel's house - at least, that's what you told yourself - but because a "the whole neighborhood is invited, bring snacks or beer" type of Fourth of July party wasn't the kind of way you'd envisioned your first time in Joel's home. You figured maybe it'd be dinner, or a movie, or a quick fuck against the stairs with Joel's balls trussed up in something. Normal things.

Not loud peopley things.

Still, you readjust your top once more, take the briefest of glances in the mirror, and head out the door anyway, nerves be damned. You can totally handle a Fourth of July BBQ at Joel's house.

You think you can all the way up to Joel's driveway, when the nerves come back with a vengeance and you stand there, feeling sick, listening to the sounds of people and music coming from the backyard.

You try to tell yourself it all makes sense. It's a new place, a place that should mean so much because it's his, but try as you might you can't fight back the panic rising as you think of the very many faces that are going to be in this new place too. Familiar faces, faces you'd seen most days as you went about your life down this street you called home, people you'd shared small talk with and said good morning to almost every day as you left for work.

Then there's this stupid outfit you're wearing. The you from weeks ago chose it the very same day you said yes to Joel's invitation, and the you of today didn't have the energy or inclination to think of anything else. Wear whatever, Joel had said, it's just a casual thing. So, you'd gone for casual.

Braless is casual, right?

Not that that was a specific choice, more a necessity. You'd chucked the third bra on the floor in a huff, cursing your shitty outfit choice and lack of bra to fit it, and instead decided to stick on some nipple pasties and be done with it.

All that's done now, and now here you are, still standing like an idiot in the driveway, closer to Joel's home than you have ever been, psyching yourself up to go inside.

With a deep breath of the dry Texas heat, you head for the open back gate, the soft sound of your shoes on the paving stones so loud in your ears as everything wooshes and fizzes in your head.

It's somehow both better and worse than your expectations.

You're immediately greeted by a sea of recognizable faces, the bottle of wine you forgot you were even holding whisked out of your hand and taken inside before you can even get your first round of hello's in. You don't have much of a chance to be nervous, or self conscious, or any of the things you'd worried about being in the days leading up to being here, because there's just so much of everything around you. Noises, smells, people.

Everything, except for Joel. You've not caught a single look at him since you got here - minutes ago - and you wonder if he's even here and not relaxing back at your place on the couch.

Then you see him. At least, you think it's him. His back is to you, locked into conversation so fierce he hasn't noticed the commotion about your entrance.

You think it's him, but you're also certain you don't know of anyone else who would dress head to toe in red, white, and blue candy stripes. The sight of it makes you forget your own outfit worries as a grin forms on your face, and that familiar rumbling of something in the pit of your stomach comes back all over again.

"Not eyein' the very slightly younger model, are you?" comes a gruff voice that has you twisting rapidly on the spot, the smile barely given chance to fall from your face when you spot the actual, real life Joel standing right there next to you, cold beer in hand.

In your own defence, real life Joel isn't dressed much better than the other Joel stood over the other side of the yard. He's probably dressed worse, actually. He's head to toe in stars, all the way from the novelty headband on his head to the flashing star lights clipped to his shoes. It's gaudy, and camp, and so perfectly Joel that the smile that dipped from your face for all of half a second is back, and you're grinning up at him, that feeling in your belly violently boiling away now that he's right there.

"Oh, him?" you say with a wave of your hand. "Nah. He's like a dollar store version of you."

"Really? I'll be sure to tell Tommy he's Dollar Store Joel from now on. He'll love that. Hey, Tommy!" he calls over the yard, before slipping his free hand behind your back. "C'mon. Let me introduce y'all."

He guides you over, hand never leaving the small of your back, touching you out here in front of all these people as if you are actually officially the kind of something that everyone should know about. And maybe you are.

But then, you're looking into familiar friendly eyes, so similar to the ones you've been staring into and dreaming of since Christmas, and watching this familiar strangers face light up so brightly you briefly wonder if his joy is misplaced until he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

"Shit, he weren't lying," says Tommy as he rocks on his feet with you in his arms before releasing and looking down at you. "You are real."

Before Joel can land a firm whack to Tommy's shoulder, Tommy's pulling you in for another hug, telling you how nice it is to finally meet you, because he's heard all about you, dropping in a few choice words about his asshole brother here and there as he chatters to you, and Joel, and even himself.

At some point, whether it's during the fourth hug or the eighteenth, you're not sure, Joel slips off to grab you a drink, leaving you with his bizarrely dressed brother.

"Ain't never seen him smile so much without Sarah around," he says, the moment Joel's out of earshot, giving you a nudge and another fond smile. "Y'know, I think he might like you."

"Mm, I think I might like him too."

Small talk with Tommy is easy - the man's a talker, if you ever met one. He's a charmer too, and if you met him in a bar you might think he'd be coming on to you with the way he so attentively talks to you, only directing his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments.

"What's with the outfits?" you eventually ask, with a flick to his striped top hat. "Joel never said it was a dress up party."

"Oh it ain't, this is just a family tradition. Dad always used to dress up in dumb shit for the holidays, make us laugh, and it just sorta stuck. 'Course, added in some friendly competition over the years too, and then this," he says with a dramatic sweep down his body, "was born."

"Competition?"

"Mhm. Joel'll tell you, won't you brother?" Tommy says with a wink over your head before ducking sideways to raid the snack table.

"What am I s'posed to tell you?" he says, handing you your drink, letting his fingers linger near yours and stroke a trail of burning heat gently up your arm before falling back to his pocket.

"The competition."

"S'easy. Stars or stripes," Joel points to himself, decked out in stars and then to his brother where he stands loudly chatting to yet more guests in his candy stripes. "You gotta pick. Most votes, wins."

"I've got to pick?"

"'s the rules, darlin'."

"So you want me to pick between you, or some costumed guy I don't know - a practical stranger?" you say, with a glint in your eye, watching Joel's face drop in faux offence.

"You wouldn't."

"Don't underestimate me, Joel. I think you know exactly what I'm capable of."

Your eyes meet in a silent stalemate, the glint in your eye never leaving as Joel bites at his cheek to hold back a laugh. Tommy was right - you do like Joel, some days too much, and moments like right now, you think maybe it's reciprocated, and you like him just the right amount.

Poking him in the chest, finger pressed to the middle of one of the sea of stars decorating his body, you let yourself break first. "Stars, Joel. I pick stars."

With a roll of his eyes, and a kiss pressed lightning quick to the side of your head, Joel's hand winds back around your back.

"Thank fuck for that. Let's get you a votin' card so you can make that official."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

As the evening draws on, you think you've talked to just about everyone in your street several times over, and then some. It also turns out that Joel and Tommy take their little competition very seriously, and always have, if your neighbors are to be believed.

By the time the votes have been counted and Joel in his star spangled outfit is declared the winner, Tommy has sunk to his knees, his hat toppled off in his despair as he hangs his head in shame.

You're still listening to them bicker as you sneak off to use the bathroom, their voices only disappearing when you've slid the patio door shut and taken your first official step into Joel's house.

"The headband swung it."

"The headband is Sarah's, and your massive skull is breakin' it..."

Even through the mess of the party, you can see that this place is distinctly Joel, with hints of a 10 year old girl dotted around the place. From the pictures on the wall to the cushions on the sofa - mostly a rich navy, but one soft pink nestled in with the blue - through to small ornamental carvings on a side table and the drawings stuck on the refrigerator.

You're looking at one - not a masterpiece by any means, but very decent attempt at a bluebonnet - when the pressure inside the house changes again with the slide of the door.

It's Joel, arms laden with bottles, and the headband flopping forward pathetically on his head. "You snuck off quick," he says, dumping the bottles onto the counter. "Get lost findin' the bathroom?"

"Distracted. Never had chance to sneak around your house looking at your shit before," you quip with a smile, trying to get comfortable with the very uncomfortable thing that brought you two together in the first place.

"Then shoes off. Lemme take you upstairs, give you a little tour, and you can use the bathroom up there. Probably in a better state than the one down here now anyway."

He holds your hand in his all the way up the stairs. That something rears its head again, igniting your palm where it meets his, your brain not registering a single word he says as he points to various doors before dragging you through one, into his bedroom.

His lips are on yours immediately - or yours are on his. You can't quite work out who started it, you just know that you're a tangle as your hands roam each other, biting and licking kisses into each others mouths. His hand finds your ass, and you're moaning as he presses you forward, into him, and the soft lump in his pants. You want to grind yourself against him, but the angle isn't right, and a nagging forgotten thing is worming through your brain when Joel pushes your bodies together once more.

Oh. Right. You remember now.

"Joel - mmph - Joel," you say with urgency through his kisses. He pulls back, searching your face with panic and a pinched brow. "I really gotta pee."

With a kiss to your forehead he lets you go, pushing you toward his ensuite. When you exit a few minutes later, he's exactly where you left him, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish as he possibly ever could.

"I'm glad you came," he says, looking at you and setting that something off roaring through your body again.

"Me too. I... I've had a nice time."

"Just wanted you to know I didn't invite you here just for, y'know," he says, with a gesture to his bed. "Didn't bring you in here for it either. Just, sorta missed you. Not used to not bein' alone with you. It's weird sharin' you."

You don't want to remind him you've barely left each others sides all night. You don't want to draw too much attention to the something, just in case you scare it away.

"Damn. Got nothing for me? Nothing at all?" you joke instead.

"Got nothin'. Nothin' planned anyway," he says with a look around the room, his eyes focussing briefly on a drawer before flicking back to you.

Really, you should be leaving space between you and Joel. Space for the something to flourish, space that is just enough to not magnetize your body to his, smashing yourselves together and turning the nothing into something. What you should do doesn't have the power to stop your feet from slowly pulling you toward him again though. And it doesn't stop you from putting both your hands on his chest when you finally reach him.

"No? Got no magic tricks up your sleeve? I was hoping for a wand or a rabbit or somethin', you do look like you ran away from the circus."

"I'll have you know this shirt is the finest polyester you can find at Party City."

"Mm, sounds sweaty."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So you're sweaty and gross, and you have nothing to wow me with? I'm starting to wonder why you invited me." Which is a lie. You know why, and so does he, and you're glad for it, even if it still frightens you to think about it too much. You suspect he knows an awful lot more about you than you've told him. He's perceptive like that.

"Maybe I'm retractin' your invite."

"You wouldn't."

"No?"

"What if I've got a little something for you instead, am I still invited now?"

Joel's eyes light up and soften all at once, turning so bright and sparkling you think he might cry. It's not exactly that you've never done anything for him in the ways he has for you. When he mentioned his favorite snack, you got some in the house for nights you spend watching a movie before devolving into fucking on the floor. You bought new lingerie, which only ever stayed on if it was too difficult to get out of, and once or twice he'd caught you wearing the heart shaped butt plug before leaping on you and pounding you into whatever surface was nearest, thumb pressing down on the base and making you see stars.

Still, for all you had done, you never swapped positions in the little game you'd been playing with each other for over seven months. Each time, he was the one who came to you with some silly thing or trick or toy to tease you with, and each time you loved it. You hoped he would love this too.

"You do?"

"Mhm," you say as you put some distance between the two of you again. Space to breath, space to move, space to let the something calm back down into the pit of your stomach and curl in on itself like a cat settling down to sleep.

Your let your fingers glide up your body, gently pulling your skirt for a moment before they coast up your belly and reach your shirt, flirting with the hem before curling around it and tugging, letting your tits jiggle behind the fabric.

With a final soft tug, you peel the fabric up your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out the bottom of your top.

"Holy shit, baby," he says, a whisper of a moan on his lips. His eyes have been glued to you, wide and curious, ever since you suggested you may have something for him. And now, they're darting from your chest to your face then back down, taking in the sight of your covered nipples.

You had made some choices earlier today, in your nervous state. Going braless was only one of them. The pasties too, were another. And then, there was the shape. You has flowers, hearts, circles, straight tape and, finally, stars. It was a no brainer when you'd rifled through the packet for two that matched that white stars were the perfect choice for today. It'd only really occured to you when Joel had worn his own stars, that you were perhaps better matched today than you thought, that maybe you could have your own little game with him for once.

"Told you I was all in on the stars."

"Damn right you are," he says as he approaches, his hands finding their place on your waist, itching to move upward. "They don't hurt?"

"They're just pasties, Joel. They're soft. Feel."

And fuck, does he feel. His hands cup you, gently squeezing the softest part of your breast before letting his thumbs dance across where the pucker of your nipple should be. The sensation is muted, infuriatingly muffled by the feel of the pasties covering you.

"S'good?"

"Imagine I stroked your dick over your pants. It's good but it's not the same."

"Damn," he curses, thumbs still gently rubbing over your nipples, watching them slowly come to life and prickling beneath the coverings. "They come off easy?"

"Like a bandaid."

"Shit."

And you just know what he's thinking, because you're thinking it too. There's no real way you can take them off right now and let Joel have his way with your nipples like you're both desperate for, even if time and the swathe of people downstairs wasn't an issue. You have nothing else to cover up with and the soft breeze combined with the cold drinks and the age of some of the guests here means it's probably not a good idea to go without them.

That doesn't stop Joel from kissing you again though, more restrained than he has any right to be with your tits in his hands. You know from his frustrated groan when you bite at his bottom lip that he's two seconds away from telling everyone the parties over, only to come back up here and continue with a party for just two.

To your surprises, he pulls your top back down. Not before kissing one breast, then the other, then back to the first. You know he wants to sink his face into them, but he doesn't let himself, and he rises from his crouch with a groan and pulls you out of the room.

"Don't show Tommy," Joel whispers to you as you make your way back down the stairs. "He'll say the contest was rigged."

"Damn, I was so hoping to show your brother my nipples."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Joel's eyes keep flicking to your chest for the rest of the night. More than once he drags you away inside, either upstairs or into the garage, just to ask you to show him one more time. If you weren't covered, your nipples would have been rubbed and pinched raw by his eager fingers by now, just as your lips were swollen by his eager mouth.

By the time it's all over, you're positively exhausted, propping yourself up on the arm of a chair and talking to Tommy as Joel waves off the last of the guests and closes the back gate.

You had barely left his side all night, and if anyone had anything to say about it, you hadn't heard it. Neither had Joel. And Tommy, a clever man when he wanted to be, hadn't made a single joke about it either. All in all, it was as much of a successful day than you could hope for, initial nerves aside.

Tommy, continuing to be a clever man, doesn't put up much of a fight when you offer to be the one to stay behind and help clear up. Of course, he's already gone around and collected most of the trash, and put the leftover food inside, but he relents at your insistence he head home - you do only live down the street after all.

Neither you or Joel get much further with the cleaning. Once trash bags are dumped in the garage and you've both washed up, his hands are back under your top, damp fingers cupping your breasts and pulling you back into him.

"Stay?" he asks, as if there was any other ending to this night, as if Tommy hadn't left precisely for this reason.

You barely agree by the time his mouth is latched onto your neck, drawing unrestrained moans out of you right there in the kitchen now that you're finally alone.

His hands, of course, find their way back up to your top, stroking over the edge of the pasties once more.

"You really like 'em, huh?" you ask as his thumb brushes the edge of one, starting to curl and pull the point of one of the stars.

"Like that we match. Feel like you picked 'em for me," he mumbles into your neck, releasing one breast and tucking his hand into the waistband of your skirt. "Like that I've had somethin' to think about, somethin' to play with, even with all these people here."

Fuck, if you haven't liked that too. Letting him play had been one of the highlights of your night so far. Being manhandled into the garage, giggling and pushing Joel as he clasped his hands together in a plea to please see your tits. The souvenir love bite you'd let him suck into your left breast after dragging you back upstairs for a second time. You'd spent half the night flipping between Joels hands and mouth on your tits, to being dragged back out to socialize. Your pussy had given up trying to regulate itself after the third session of Joel's teasing, and you'd spent the rest of the evening wet and waiting.

This is a fact he finds out now, as he slides his hand down over your mound to cup you over your panties. You both let out the same curse as he presses and wiggles his fingers back and forth over you, rubbing your clit over your underwear. You had hoped to peel the pasties off before you fucked him, giving him full access to your nipples for the first time tonight, but you don't think you're going to make it that far, not now his hand is pulling your panties aside, feeling for the slick wetness between your lips and dragging it up, up, up to swirl around your clit.

Not a second later you're scaling the stairs for what you know will be the final time that day, this time you dragging Joel as you both kick of your shoes and stumble up the steps. You already ache from all the standing, and if you have it your way, your legs are going to be shaking and trembling too much for the rest of the night to possibly be of use to you.

With his door pushed open, left wide now the house is empty, you pull yourself back into him, only for him to slip his still wet finger between your lips, letting you taste yourself before he captures your mouth, licking your taste from your own tongue.

Then, your hands find his chest, that ridiculous shirt, and pull at it, tugging the fabric taught to his body, eager to get it off and tumble into his sheets with him.

You were right about how sweaty he'd be under the shirt when you finally get your fingers on the buttons, working your way down until you can pull it off. He's shining underneath it, the dark hair of his body slicked down as you drag your hands up over his chest, to his shoulders and then down to his belt.

He suddenly stops you, pulling your hands away, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth as he fumbles with the buckle. In a huff, after a few failed, distracted, attempts, he pushes you away and pulls off his belt before unzipping his pants.

Joel has barely tugged them down his legs when you're staring wide eyed, howling with laughter, staring directly at his cock. Only, this time, it stares back.

At least, the bald eagle on the front of his boxers does.

"What are those?"

"Nothin'," Joel says, covering himself and trying to tug his boxers over his erection with one hand still trying to pull off his pants. Grabbing his hands, you stop him, pleading as you tug them away from his crotch.

"Show me."

"Look, s'nothin. Just another stupid thing Tommy got me and I thought it'd be funny but..."

"Sure looks like you got somethin' there for me. All this time you were sayin nothin'. Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now. C'mon. Please."

You pout, trying desperately to get him to give in when you have an idea and you're tugging your top off over your head and throwing it to the side, brandishing your star covered nipples to him once more.

"Pretty please," you say with a small shimmy, and Joel's hand immediately falls away, coming up instead to cover his eyes with a sigh.

It's a sight to behold. Really, it is. The eagle is staring back at you once again, still bolstered by Joel's solid length and the heft of his balls behind it. What you hadn't noticed before is it's sitting on a canvas of United States flag, stars and stripes covering his thighs, his hips, his ass.

"Oh wow. Joel those are -" you cough out a laugh "- those are amazing."

He's rolling his eyes. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his posture. "Yeah, real funny, I know."

"No, I like them. Very festive. And y'know what," you say, cupping his cock right over the eagle print of his boxers as you clear your throat. "I pledge allegiance -"

"No, don't you d-"

"- to these balls -"

"Stop."

"- and the cock they sit under -"

"Oh my god," he says, fighting through a laugh, your fingers squeezing and massaging as you pledge yourself, whole heartedly, to the appendage in your hand.

" - one - uh, cock and balls? Is there even a collective word for cock and balls? - under Joel -"

"It's just gettin' worse."

"- definitely indivisible, no divisible balls here - "

"You're killin' me."

"- say it with me now - with liberty and justice for balls."

You try to keep a straight face as you finish. Really you do. But as Joel's whole body shakes and ripples, his balls jiggling in your hand as laughter wracks through him, you can't help but fall into him, letting yourself be propped up by him as you crumple in on yourself in delight.

"You callin' my balls Liberty and Justice now?" Joel finally says through a laugh.

You slide a finger up the leg of his boxers, pulling gently on them as you stare down at the flag adorning his ass and balls.

"Yep. You're Star Spangled Joel with your side kicks, Liberty and Justice."

You give his balls a little squeeze again as you name them.

"Now that you pledged your allegiance, you gonna keep yappin' or you gonna prove it?"

But it's too late, because you're already sinking to your knees, right there in his bedroom, a place you both know you're going to wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other as the sunlight peeks through the curtains.

"Just try to stop me."

next part

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@youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123

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[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 5

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+ only. Oral sex (F receiving). Masturbation (M). Cum play. Fingering. Swearing. Truck sex. Detailed nightmare involving choking and death. Vomiting.

Summary: More days of bliss continue for you and Will, including a proper date where lustful feelings are balanced with hesitations, and another nightmare brings things crashing down.

A/N: Well, I managed to write another chapter before it was a year since it had been updated 😅 Thank you to everyone who continues to show interest in this story and for voting for it to be the fic to be updated next 💗 Extending an even bigger thank you to the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels who gifted me these absolutely stunning headers to use!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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The slow, lazy drawl of his words were like liquid gold; warm, welcoming and melting over you, the appellation ‘sweetheart’ he'd given you something you were quickly growing accustomed to and hoped you would wake up hearing every morning.

But his greeting was nothing compared to the way he made you feel as he met his mouth against your spread cunt, his smooth, searing tongue licking a broad stroke through your folds that held remnants of him from the night before.

Your mouth opened to say something in return, but all that came out was a sharp gasp that quickly turned into a drawn out moan, your arm extending to grip at Will’s hair where your fingers held onto it tightly, your hips lifting up to push against his face.

You felt him hum against your flesh, his approval of your blatant need for more reverberating through you, his hunger evident as he eagerly ate at you.

Continuing to writhe to the generous movements of his tongue, you opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling, digging your head back into the pillow as you succumbed to every assault on your sensitive sex, the white plaster now blurred through your eyes.

Will wrapped his arms around both your thighs, pulling them down to the mattress to spread you further apart, securing his hold on you despite you moving wildly from pleasure. He latched onto your clit, sucking and flicking at it until your breathy moans grew into cries, feeling your body lurch and lift off the bed in an attempt to resist his grasp to keep you in place.

His ferocity only increased, the taste of your slick coating his tongue and soaking his beard encouraging him, feeling starved for something he never knew would be possible of craving this much, everything about you addicting him like nothing in his life had ever before.

The sheets pulled under your body as your hands left his head and fell to them, clawing at them desperately and bunching them up until your nails felt sore, your whole body tensing and trying to escape this barrage only to have such intense ecstasy take hold of you almost as if it was against your will.

There was no way for you to attempt to keep quiet, not caring a single bit if Benny happened to be home and heard what surely sounded like Will was killing you, your body and mind unable to restrain the pleasure the older Miller provided even if you wanted to.

And then the Captain kept going.

You bucked against his face as he landed one knee on the bed, the dip of it registering his weight and power in your fucked-out brain, the thrill of knowing this man could do whatever he wanted to you without a struggle both scaring and exciting you.

Will buried his face in you even more, pushing his talented mouth and tongue deeper in your soppy cunt, his shoulders pressing hard on the backs of your thighs while his arms continued to lock around your hips, keeping you from backing away from him.

Low, satisfied moans sounded from him the more he devoured you, adding to the delirium of lust that was taking over every part of you, knowing he was enjoying this just as much as you were igniting the fire that quickly erupted into a second orgasm.

He growled into you as you wildly rode his face, his fingers digging into your flesh to force you to ride out every second of it as intensely as possible, his tongue keeping the same consistent pace and pattern that brought you to your high in the first place.

Your back arched off the bed, your hands reaching for any part of him you could make purchase on, grabbing his shoulders and arms and finally landing on his head, your nails raking over his scalp as you applied pressure that kept him in place.

Will didn't stop until he felt your body relax around him, your tensed muscles and limbs falling slack around him, his fervid actions slowed to gentler kisses and softer licks while his hands rubbed you soothingly.

“Oh my god,” you said through a small laugh, one of your hands resting on your forehead as you took in how impossibly good that was, the other giving his firm bicep a squeeze.

Will chuckled as he sat upright, looking down at you hungrily while he pushed your knees flat against the bed to keep you spread out for him.

His face and beard glistened with your slick, and his cock was leaking excessively from the tip, the sight of him throbbing and full of so much want for you making your heart swell and hammer in your chest.

Your mouth watered as you watched him take hold of himself, rubbing his thumb over the smooth dome before running his hand down the length, his eyes falling closed at the relief he felt at finally addressing the ache between his legs.

Will began pumping his dick slowly, only to increase the pace after a minute, his eyes opening to look at you with a crooked, lustful smirk.

“You're so fucking hot, sweetheart,” he complimented, his gaze trailing from your tits that you languidly touched down to where your pussy was laid out and open for him to do whatever he wanted with.

You smiled, your breathing becoming more laboured as you got worked up watching him jerk himself off, his chest rising and falling sharply in time with yours.

“You want that load on you?” he panted, his voice gruff in his question.

“Yes,” you confirmed with an eager nod, your arousal billowing through you again.

“Where do you want it?”

You pinched at your nipple, moaning as you wiggled on the sheets before him, your body his to use however he pleased.

“Anywhere.”

The muscles in Will’s cheeks flinched as he clenched his teeth tightly together, his arm that pumped away at his cock flexing admirably, and his eyes fell to your hole that oozed with your creamy slick, his target chosen with a darkness clouding his blue irises.

He angled his hips slightly closer to you, aiming his shot at you right as the first of his cum spurt out and landed on your clit, then on your inner thigh, the rest of it exploding onto your folds.

Will wasted no time in swiping up his hot spend with two of his fingers and driving it inside you, making you cry out and jolt to his aggressive touch.

You quivered and shook, unable to control any sounds or movements made, your eyes squeezed shut as he finger fucked you hard.

“That's it, baby,” he encouraged roughly. “You're still gonna end up full of my cum, you little slut.”

You could hear the amusement in his tone, and you opened your eyes to see him focused on his task, continuing to drive all of his load inside you each time we pulled his fingers out and pushed them back in again, the slipperiness of it on your overstimulated cunt throwing you over the edge.

The euphoria was blinding and more intense than the two he gave you before it, feeling a rush of wet release from you as you rocked on his hand, his grunts and moans barely registering in your ringing ears.

“Fuck, Will!” you cried, breathless and heaving as you came down hard from your high, feeling the soaked sheets under you and seeing the tattoo on his forearm shining, the ink darkened and saturated.

He climbed through your mess as he lowered himself overtop of you, covering your sated, numb form with his, his weight welcoming after having such an otherworldly experience. Cradling your heated cheek in his hand, he captured your lips with his, transferring your tangy taste onto your tongue from his mouth and beard, both of you moaning slowly as you deepened your kiss and savoured each breathless second.

It had been nearly another full day before you returned home, Will driving you back to your car where it had been abandoned in the gym parking lot after he had whisked you away to his house, neither of you wishing for the fantasy of staying in his bed to end and being forced to face reality.

As if it hadn’t been impossible already, you found it even more so to distract your thoughts from him, catching yourself daydreaming or smiling to yourself in the midst of any task, knowing you were falling in love far quicker than you could have ever imagined.

It took everything in you not to call or text him first, urging yourself to play it cool and not come on too strong despite everything you had done together being the opposite of that, the worry of spooking Will or letting your hearts take off before your feet had a chance to catch up something you didn’t want to happen.

But it was like he was reading your mind, your phone buzzing on the table behind you as you worked to prep your dinner, quickly dropping your knife and wiping your hands on the tea towel as you watched his name light up your screen with a text.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Dinner tomorrow?

You grinned and pulled your lip between your teeth to try to stifle it, the consideration of waiting a couple of minutes to reply crossing your mind even as your fingers furiously typed out your reply.

I would love that.

Will breathed a sigh of relief as he read your text, happy that you responded right away and that you were wanting to see him again so soon, his mind constantly racing with worry that what you had experienced together had vanished as soon as you had left his house or that he had taken it for more than what it was.

“You need to chill, dude,” Benny muttered from the other side of the kitchen, making Will scowl before putting his phone down and rubbing his hands through his hair.

“If you wanna see her, see her. It’s not that hard.”

Will scoffed a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“That easy, huh?”

Benny smiled and nodded, shrugging his shoulders at the same time he gave Will a look that hinted he was thinking his brother was being ridiculous. “Yeah.”

Will puffed out his cheeks as he sighed again and shifted his weight on his feet.

“I asked her for dinner and she said yes, but I don’t know where to take her.”

“Literally anywhere, man.”

Will ignored his brother’s helpful suggestion, continuing to think out loud.

“The problem is I want to go somewhere nice, you know, but I can’t exactly afford that right now. Fuck, I can hardly afford to get us Big Macs from McDonald’s and that doesn’t exactly scream romance, does it?”

“Jesus Christ, you overthink this shit so much,” Benny accused, stopping from putting away the dishes he just washed to turn and face his brother in hopes of getting his point across and easing Will’s mind. “Judging from what I’ve seen, and heard, so far, just being with you would make her happy.”

Will nodded and glanced down at his feet, wanting to trust what Benny was saying but still having doubts given the history of his love life.

“I don’t want to mess it up, man.”

“I know, and you won’t, but if you keep being all fucking on-edge about it and not just going with it then things won’t happen how they should.”

Will looked up and squinted at his brother, that same nervous feeling he kept having bubbling up inside him again.

“You don’t think we’re moving too fast?”

Benny shrugged again. “Fuck, man, I don’t know. You didn’t ask her to marry you or anything while you were balls deep did you? If it feels right, then it’s right. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Will laughed and shook his head, finding it hard to believe he was putting the fate of his relationship in Benny’s hands and taking his advice.

“Do you think a picnic on the beach is fucking lame?”

“Nah, chicks eat that up. Do that. She’ll love it,” Benny assured him, clapping his hand on Will’s shoulder as he passed by him to walk out of the kitchen.

“Just be careful when you’re fucking in the sand,” he added, winking over his shoulder and laughing.

Will made sure he covered every detail, wanting everything to be perfect despite Benny reassuring him it would be.

Doing a mental checklist as he packed everything up for your date, he placed everything from cutlery, to napkins, glasses and a wine opener into a cooler and bag, double-checking everything was there and he wasn’t forgetting something.

He glanced at his watch as he closed the cooler, seeing he had eight minutes before he said he would be picking you up, knowing the drive to your house was only six and a bit and that he’d rather be early than late, but didn’t want to make you feel rushed.

Deciding it was better to go now before he could second-guess anything else, he grabbed everything and headed out the door to his truck, telling himself he would drive the exact speed limit in order to show up right on time, shouting a quick goodbye to Benny who was in the garage doing pushups and responded with a grunting ‘good luck’.

The nervousness and excitement he felt were equal, trading off with each other what felt like every ten seconds as he drove, the stress he had put on himself to make this date perfect exchanging with how eager he was to see your beautiful smile and hear your sweet voice.

A small bout of panic shocked through his veins when he pulled up to your house, seeing you sitting on your front porch waiting for him, making him steal a glance at both the clock on his dashboard and at his watch to ensure he wasn’t late, only to realize he was still two minutes early and you were clearly just as excited for this as he was.

The smile you gave him as you stood and grabbed a small bag from beside you immediately put him at ease, shifting his truck into park before promptly getting out even though you were already a few steps away.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning in for the hug you initiated, releasing the breath he had sucked in as soon as your arm wrapped around his neck and gave him a firm squeeze.

“Hi,” you whispered against his shoulder, the tone of your voice telling of your relief to be in his arms again.

“Ready?” Will asked, extending his hand to take the bag you held in yours, matching your smile as you nodded and made your way to the passenger side.

Will followed, admiring how gorgeous you looked in your pretty, floral dress, opening the door for you to hop up into the seat.

He placed your bag beside the cooler in the back and then got in, beaming at you as he put on his seatbelt.

“I know you told me not to bring anything, but I had to,” you explained, justifying your reason for not following his request. “I remember you mentioning those cookies you love from that bakery down on Main, and-”

“Seriously?” he blurted, his joy due to your thoughtfulness and from his excitement over the cookies he swore were the best on the planet.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, smiling at his reaction.

“Thank you,” Will spoke quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your heart swell.

You reached over the console and placed your hand on his, giving it a squeeze as he rubbed his thumb over the top of yours, his features soft and his eyes full of something more than just gratitude at your gesture.

Hours ticked by without notice as you laid comfortably on a large blanket on the sand, the warmth held in it from the sun radiating through to your bodies, watching the sky change into bolder hues of orange and pink as night began to settle in.

“This is amazing, Will,” you thanked, feeling so spoiled to have been treated to the most wonderful date you could’ve ever dreamed of.

“I wanted to take you on a proper date,” he began, lacing your fingers together where he fidgeted his against yours as he spoke. “We haven't exactly done things right.”

You looked at him surprised, tilting your head. “No? That’s not what I think.”

Will set his lips in a straight line and let you continue.

“What constitutes something as being right?”

“I don’t even know,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I was in the same relationship for so long and it was so wrong…” He paused, taking a big breath in and then sighing it out. “I just want this to turn out right.”

“I think as long as we’re having fun and feeling good about it, there’s nothing that could be wrong.”

Will nodded his head in agreement, smoothing his thumb across your knuckles. “Isn’t it a bit nuts though? How fast it’s all happening and how good it feels?”

You considered his words, repeating them in your head as you thought up your response. “Yeah, of course I’ve felt that way…almost like it’s too good to be true, but I’m not going to sit and wait for the other shoe to drop and expect it to go south just because things are going so well.”

Will remained silent, clearly processing each word carefully as he always seemed to do.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” you asked, not wanting to make Will feel smothered or scared, recalling your conversation in his bedroom the other day.

“In theory, yeah,” he admitted, “but at the same time I feel like I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then use me until you’ve had your fill,” you offered, knowing you would never regret falling hard and fast for him even if it ended in disaster.

Will’s eyes darkened, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his neck as he swallowed thickly, like he knew no matter how hard the two of you tried, this high level of lust between you would always be present in the midst of all the ways you truly cared for each other, that kind of chemistry not cheapening anything you had together.

Not wanting to say the words you did feel, you propped yourself up on your elbow, leaning over him in order to look at him completely, pulling your entwined hands to rest on your chest where your heart beat rapidly.

“I really like you, Will.”

You wanted to say more, to say everything, but hoped that was enough to assure him that what you thought you had was true, that every touch and kiss and moment spent with him was genuine and real.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward in a smirk, the tension previously held in his face faded away as you brought your lips to his and kissed him, slowly and purposefully, melting into him even more when he reached his hand up to cradle the back of your head to deepen it, his other hand smoothing up your back to press you closer to his body.

Will lifted himself off the blanket, turning so you laid down on it instead, his knee driving between your legs to spread them apart as he settled on top of you.

Your kisses never stopped, alternating between fervid and languid, wanting to consume and savour each other all at once, your hips rolling together eagerly to work you both up into a frenzy.

His hard cock strained through his jeans, humping and rubbing against your cotton panties that were soaked through, your dress lifted up to your midsection where his hands tore at your flesh desperately.

Although he was ready to fuck you into tomorrow right there, the grittiness of the sand that he already felt on his skin reminded him of Benny’s warning, and parting from you reluctantly, Will looked at you spread out beneath him, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“Your place?” he panted, the way you were looking so fuckable making him rethink his decision to relocate somewhere more comfortable.

You gave an enthusiastic nod, both of you quickly gathering and repacking everything you brought in order to get to your house as fast as possible so you could pick up where you left off, the pause in such craveable foreplay almost cruel.

Will threw everything in the bed of his truck without care and turned toward where you stood leaning against the passenger side door, licking his lips before grabbing your face and crashing against you in another heated kiss.

You moaned as your body slammed against the steel, your hands roaming his form that was tacky, his shirt damp on his skin, inhaling deeply in order to try to breathe even more of him in.

Your fingers dug into the thick muscle on his shoulders when his hand slipped down your body and landed between your legs, his long fingers slipping in your panties to run through your slick that coated you.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, always amazed at how wet you were for him.

“I don’t think I can wait,” you breathed, speaking against the shell of his ear as he steadily moved his fingers in and out of your warm and readied hole.

“Me either.”

His response came out as a growl as he removed his fingers from you and opened the door to the backseat, climbing in it to sit and unbuckle his belt and peel the zipper down on his jeans.

Your mouth watered as you watched him lift his ass up off the seat and shimmy his jeans and boxers down, his huge, hard cock springing free.

“Come here,” he beckoned, extending his hand for you to take so he could help you in and position you on his bare lap.

You slammed the door behind you, giggling as you sat down on top of him and reached up to take hold of his scruffy face, kissing him through both your smiles as he chuckled at the same time.

His large hands smoothed up your thighs, dragging your dress up as he went, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips which prompted you to begin moving against him.

You ground down on his length, smearing the viscous arousal that sat heavily in your panties along your aching sex, moaning into his mouth at the sensation that had you seeing stars already.

The truck was sweltering, but neither of you cared, your focus only on each other and your goals of reaching the highest point of pleasure, feeling sweat accumulate at the back of Will’s neck where your fingers danced on his searing skin while your own beaded with moisture that began to drip down your chest.

Will moved his mouth away from yours, angling to kiss along your jawline and down your neck, alternating the press of his lips with an indulgent suck, and when he got to your chest, his tongue glided across your slippery skin in broad swipes, licking your sweat as his hands moved from your hips to tear at the straps of your dress.

In one tug your breasts were exposed, allowing Will to dive his face between them with a low growl, your hands clawing at his head as he took turns rolling his tongue around each of your nipples while you steadily ground on his lap.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you gotta let me in there,” he pleaded, his voice rough and his eyes wild when he peeled himself off your chest and lifted his hips up to press into you more at the same time you bore down on him.

“Yeah?” you teased, rolling yourself harder on his rigid, leaking cock. “How bad do you want it, Miller?”

“Fuck!” he chuckled, bucking up into you compulsively.

He slotted his mouth with yours again before taking your lower lip in his teeth and biting down, pulling until it was released. “I want you so fucking bad, baby.”

You smiled against his lips, “Then have me, Will.”

Without wasting anymore time, Will hooked his fingers in the crotch of your panties and roughly pulled them to the side, taking hold of his cock to guide it to your entrance and watching with furrowed brows and a slack mouth as you sank down over him, taking him inch by inch into your soaked flesh, the sight adding to his craze.

He cursed again, stretching and spreading your lips with his girth, his size causing some resistance even with how wet you were.

Once he was fully seated in you, he let his head fall back on the seat, letting out a relieved moan as he basked in the feeling of being completely encased by your body, holding eye contact with you as he reached up and brushed his thumb on your cheek.

“I missed you,” you spoke, wanting to say more but hoping those three words would portray how much you cared for him, not feeling shy in telling him you craved his presence and felt a void in his absence.

“God, I missed you too,” he answered, placing his hand to cradle the back of your head to bring you closer to him, resting your foreheads together.

You breathed together, the hazy, thick air in the truck making it difficult in addition to how charged everything was between you, and you nudged your nose against his as you whispered. “I missed having you inside me.”

He sighed and brushed his lips on yours, feeling you clench around his cock without otherwise moving, this moment of honest intimacy complimenting the desperation you felt only moments ago to get to this point.

“Yeah?” he asked, flexing within your walls, making you moan and rake your fingers across his scalp, his hands smoothing down your mostly-naked body back to your hips where he took hold of them and started to force you to rock again.

You hummed, that pleasured sound growing to a broken moan as you accepted his guidance and rolled yourself on his cock, your clit rubbing on his wheat coloured pubes that lay against his lower belly, your lips finding each other instinctively where your kiss quickly increased in fervor along with everything else.

The heat was one thing to navigate, but the lack of room in the back seat of his truck was another, Will’s large frame filling it out to the point he didn’t have much space to move, his knees knocking against the back of the seat in front of him. Neither of you cared though, making the most of this steamy moment, focused on making up for the time apart even if it was only less than forty-eight hours since you last had skin-on-skin contact, feeling no shame at all in needing each other this much, this often.

All-in.

The words you had agreed on echoed in your mind, the promise sparking even more arousal in you, feeling the need to prove to him just how true it was with your body and allay any hesitation or doubt he had in his mind.

Your hand pressed up against the upholstered covering on the ceiling as you dug yourself down harder on him, riding him in a pace you knew was close to getting you both, motivated to feel him swell and burst inside you at the same time you crumbled apart on him, your mouth pressing on his firmly as your tongues delved deeper. It fell onto the window, smearing your handprint in the condensation before finding its way back to Will’s body, both of your hands now gripping his broad shoulders for support, your legs burning from your efforts as you kept a steady tempo, feeling your orgasm building deep within you.

Will held onto you tighter, his moans reverberating into your mouth as they increased and his cock released its generous load inside you, coating your walls in thick spurts of his hot spend, the feel of it leaking from you and lubricating you even more tossing you into your own climax.

It was like your mind and body separated from each other, a blinding, numbing effect making your mind go blank while your body acted on its own, continuing to ride him wildly to chase each aftershock at the same time your limbs began to go limp from such intense pleasure that was quickly turning over into exhaustion.

Your chests rose and fell sharply against each other as you panted in search of proper breaths, his hands reaching up to smooth your hair out of your face where it clung to it with sweat, and you opened your eyes to see him smiling weakly, but satiated at you.

His head shook slightly side to side almost in disbelief, his eyes full of ardor and his smile growing to bring out the lines beside his mouth as he watched your own smile stretch across your swollen lips.

“Think we’ll make it to your place now?” he grinned, sending you a wink.

“Hmm, I’m still not sure,” you purred, causing him to raise his eyebrows out of amusement and surprise.

The next two nights went just the same as any other, trading off sleep in favour of sex, your days spent rushing through the work day to meet at the gym to workout together, followed by making dinner before quickly retiring to Will’s bedroom.

Regardless of what little hours of sleep you did manage to get, Will had never felt so rested, your presence and energy bringing him a calm he hadn’t experienced since he joined the military all those years ago, his nightmares becoming less and less to the point he didn't fear his head hitting the pillow each night.

Even though you weren't with him tonight, the effects you left on him still lingered, a sense of ease and contentment gracing him as he climbed into bed, your scent left behind on the pillow that sat next to his to remind him of you as he took a deep breath after settling in.

But it was all short-lived as his mind immediately went to the letter he'd received that morning, one that in theory was good, but tainted what he had just started building with you.

The all-clear was given by his therapist and the U.S. Army to resume active duty, and a date to deploy was typed in bold at the bottom.

Will sighed, splaying out his hand on his stomach that had been closed tightly in a fist, having expected the other shoe to drop in the perfect world he had found with you, just not so soon.

A slight sense of panic began to rise up through him, turning his skin a hue of pink as he broke out in a sweat, his breath shaky when he closed his eyes and focused on the simplicity of inhaling and exhaling, hearing your soothing voice count the seconds in his head rather than his own.

Will promised himself everything would turn out fine, rolling over onto your pillow where he continued choosing to focus on you over the anxieties that were steadily creeping up, the cool air from the fan on the dresser blowing on his hot skin. He breathed out again, as slow as he could manage, imagining you beside him to kiss his worries away and how your bare skin would feel against his in the mix of the humid heat and slight reprieve from the fan, and somewhere between thoughts of you and his imminent deployment, he fell asleep.

Kill.

It’s what he was trained to do.

Everything he knew was predestined to violence and something he never thought twice about in the moment.

Duty.

An order.

A job.

The screams subsided to a wheeze, and as he pressed his forearm harder against the straining neck in front of him, a gasping sound strangled out of the mouth that opened and closed, trying to suck in even the tiniest bit of air.

Hands grabbed and clawed at him, anywhere they could reach, desperate and frantic, their last efforts giving Will a slight struggle as they fought for their life, only to have him force his grip tighter.

Their movements grew sluggish, feeling their body begin to turn limp in his arms, the flailing arms sloppily hitting him as gurgled noises choked out of them.

Then silence.

Will released his hold, only to be fooled, his captive suddenly righting themselves and bolting forward and away from him.

He couldn’t keep up, his feet hardly moving off the spot where he had stood, his assigned hit escaping him and leaving the Delta Force soldier failing in his task.

Then they fell.

By some fate, a rock or ledge in the concrete floor tripped them, their helplessness shown in how their body splayed out weakly and defenselessly.

Confidence erupted in him, each step powerful and booming, closing the gap between the hunter and prey in a few short strides.

Will grabbed the back of their neck and hoisted them easily off the ground, flipping them over so he could see the face that had almost made a mockery out of him.

It wasn't any one given person. A mix of faces he's seen over the years. Features of those he caught glimpses of before completing their execution.

His hand clamped around their throat, crushing their windpipe with a compression that felt superhuman, watching their bloodshot eyes bulge involuntarily, the blood vessels in them and in their face bursting with each second he cut off their air.

More attempts to claw and rip his hand from them, only to flounder, forcing Will to add his other hand to accomplish his goal.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the moment to pass, feeling their resistance slacken under his palms, their engorged pulse that pumped wildly against his fingers slowing.

Then he heard it.

A voice so familiar he could pick it out anywhere.

It was so faint, but clear as day.

“Will!” they called.

You called.

His eyes tore open, only to see your lifeless face resting in his hands.

Will shot up out of bed with a scream, his entire body drenched in sweat, gasping and gulping for a breath he couldn’t catch.

Your pillow was wrung up in his hands, his grip still so tight on the prop used to mimic your throat, the shock of what he’d just dreamt making him toss it across the room as a heavy wave of nausea hit him like a ton of bricks.

Will gagged as he flew out of bed and bolted to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to be sick, his entire body lurching and heaving as those images continued to haunt him.

When he was sure he had nothing left to throw up, he collapsed on the floor, his back thudding against the vanity, rubbing his hand over his eyes and face in an attempt to wipe away the tears and sweat that mixed together.

Your face that was stilled by death kept flashing through his mind regardless if he opened or closed his eyes, feeling tortured by his own self for creating such a nightmare let alone continuing to torment him with it even after waking up.

He rocked against the cabinet, tearing his hands through his hair, his sobs coming out loud and uncontrollably.

He needed to see you, needed to know if you were okay, that life still breathed through you and you'd look back at him with the love and kindness in your eyes that you always did, your smile bright and vibrant, but he couldn't move. Frozen in place, he couldn't even manage to get back to his room to get his phone and call you, his terror and false grief immobilizing him.

Eventually the sound of Benny’s footsteps coming in registered in his pounding head, feeling his brother's hand rest on his shoulder before sinking down to the floor to sit beside him, his silence a comfort that Will knew he could always rely on.

---

Part 6

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[coalescingstar]

the batfamily has a minecraft world. it goes about as well as you’d expect.

Dick has basically a mansion, completely decorated from head to toe. He also has like fifteen wolves (rivaled only by Damian) and has named every single one of them. He’s the one who made the world, and suffers through every single update. He likes to help Steph and Cass decorate in his free time.

Jason lives in a shack. It has only the essentials and he spends most of his time fighting mobs and going to woodland mansions. He’s the one who goes to the End City and gets elytras whenever someone new joins, and usually helps them start out. People have offered to help him build his house, but he’s refused. He likes what he has perfectly fine thank you.

Tim’s house is nice but smaller than Dicks, and has a lot of momentos to his in-game achievements. He spends a lot of time in the mines gathering materials (and desperately trying not to die). Sometimes people will log on to chests randomly being placed inside their house with an insane amount of blocks and items they offhandedly mentioned they needed. Most of the time he is usually online at like 3am improving the efficiency of their farms, much to Damian’s dismay. Tim was also devastated by the loss of the Moobloom mob vote loss!! He has a strong hatred for the glowsquid.

Damian has an insane amount of animals. Like, so many it lags you out so much whenever you go towards his area. He is of course building a mega build, which is yet to be finished, but in his spare time he works on his animal farm. It’s not as, as he put it, ‘inhumane’ as Minecraft farms usually are, but it’s still impressive nonetheless!!

Steph & Cass are online a bunch, always starting new projects together. They’ll spend a lot of time gathering materials, and then they’ll make something fun to expand the world. They’ve built a lot of villages and cities around, just making everything generally nicer. They’re also the ones who found the nether fortress and made it not so dangerous (Tim was very thankful)

Bruce has technically played on the world before and has his own account, but he’s not that great at it. For all his genius, he CANNOT figure out how to not die every five minutes. There’s a ledge? He’s walking off it. There’s a creeper? He’s backing up at the speed of a snail. Who knows if he’s even looking forwards at this point.

It’s been something they can all collaborate on for years, and they cherish it very deeply <33

[yeoldenews]

I don't know how much you think about it, but you wrote a post back in Mar 2020:

"A sincere request from someone who has spent her entire adult life wishing people had kept better records…In the coming weeks and months… RECORD WHAT IS HAPPENING."

That post got me to start properly journaling properly, after trying and failing when I was younger. A majority of it is 'just' day-to-day progress updates on my fiction writing, but there's a bit of stuff about my life, and some briefer stuff about the world beyond. Not a lot, but some. Four (and change) years, and my journal is just short of 186K words.

I remembered your post, seeing today's SCOTUS decisions. I remembered your post, and I remembered a line you'd written: "Are you scared to death? Write it down."

I just...I don't know. I just wanted you to know your post made an impact, and I don't know what the fuck is coming over the next week and month and year and decade, but...I'm writing shit down. I'm writing shit down, and it's all because of your post.

You have no idea how much this means to me, and how badly I needed to hear it this week - so thank you. Truly. I am genuinely moved, and so proud of you for your 186k words.

History is made up of the stories people decided to save - and the first step to making sure a story gets saved is writing it down.

I really, really hate writing. Like more than just about anything. I'm a chronic perfectionist, and it can take me a whole afternoon to finish a single paragraph I'm satisfied with. (I spent three days writing this response, and you don't even want to know how long I spend on some of the things I post.) So keeping a journal is not a task I'd ever felt the need to afflict myself with before the pandemic. When I made the post you referenced, my journaling habit was all of ten days old but, against all the odds, here I am over four years later having never (to my recollection) missed a single day.

My daily records of what my cats are doing, and your day-to-day writing progress may not be extensively poured over by future scholars, but for only a few minutes of effort a day we now have recorded hundreds of stories.

And who knows what the people of the future might find fascinating. I'm sure the teenage girl in Philadelphia who smudged the letter she was writing in 1897 because a bee scared her would be absolutely baffled that thousands of people were still laughing about the incident 125 years later.

So much of history, and life in general, doesn't become clear until long after the fact. Historical records are full of people overreacting about events that ended up having very little significance in hindsight, and under-reacting about events they no had no idea were about to change the world. But being able to go back and see what people wrote in the moment, preserving their honest thoughts and hopes and fears, is about as close as you can get to time travel.

Maybe what we fear will come true and we're recording history, maybe we'll look back on what we wrote today and go "phew! that was a close one!", or maybe nothing will come of it at all - I pray it will be the last one, but, whatever the outcome, it's worth writing down.

(Also voting. Please, please vote.)

[pathetic-gamer]

Can you say more on The Burning Wheel? The information on the site doesn’t distinguish it much from other TTRPGs that I can tell, aside from being a D6 system. What makes it unique and worth playing? (You don’t have to provide a huge rundown haha I’m just curious!)

Sure! I tried to keep this short and failed miserably, but I'd be happy to expound even more upon specific things later, if people want more :)

(Please note that, as with any ttrpg, it would be hard to claim any of the things mentioned here are wholly original to The Burning Wheel. It would be even harder to claim that no other systems have used these mechanics or philosophies in the 20 years since The Burning Wheel came out. I am not going to claim either of those things - its the combination of them and the play experience they have resulted in for me that make it unique, so that's the angle from which I'm writing this post.)

So. why is it worth playing? How is it different?

I could talk about the skill learning system, the war rules codex, the whole concept of versus tests vs bloody versus tests. But to me, there are two main ways that it stands out from other systems: its treatment of role-play as a mechanism, and the overall philosophy behind the game's design, including the concept of setting clear expectations.

(using section headers to break up the text lol)

How it uses role-play:

The most obvious thing to point out is that there's a whole set of encounter mechanics for social situations or debates (Circles checks, Duel of Wits, etc.) - sort of the epitome of crunchy role play. But thats not what I'm getting at! What I'm getting is the fact that good role play is integral to the way the game functions.

Let's go back, all the way to character creation: When you're burning a character, you selecting life paths (page to squire to knight, etc.) with their associated skills and traits, then tie them in a pretty bow with beliefs and instincts to guide the character's actions. All of these things feed into each other to make a complete character. Easy! Familiar! We all know how to make a character, even if the numbers and labels are different!

What really matters to this engine once you're playing is whether the character you're acting as matches what you built. If it doesn't, the rules nudge you to redefine your character until it does through systems of rewards, penalties, and consequences. You are rewarded for sticking to and acting on your traits, beliefs, and instincts through different types of points distributed and voted on by fellow players, which can be used to alter the course of events or turn the tide of a bad situation later on. If you're not living up to a trait, on the other hand, you can lose it and all its benefits. (Took the fortitude trait, but ran from trouble one too many times? tough luck! the other players voted to take away that trait and now you can't call on it in moments of peril.) The beliefs and traits of a single character can end up at odds with each other, resulting in characters having to make choices that in other systems might seem insignificant or carry few lasting consequences, but here may alter the function of your character.

It's not all punitive measures, btw! One of my characters caused problems for everyone else by refusing to put away a weapon when someone else was in danger, playing off of an instinct that states he draws his weapon whenever his master does. After the session, another player suggested everyone consider nominating the Brave trait for him the next time we update them. As a character-type trait, it has no effect when rolling dice but does mean that henceforth and forevermore, anyone who interacts with him will notice a sense of bravery. Delightful!!

Also, the beliefs of different characters are practically guaranteed to stray from one another at some point, which is the primary source of inter-PC conflict. Because the mechanics of the game encourage and reward sticking to your beliefs or following your stated instincts even when it makes things significantly harder or causes problems, you're much more inclined to do it. As someone who is terrible at not slipping back into the same kind of character over and over again, I think this fucking rules.

I'm playing with a group of people I've been gaming with for almost five years, and this has opened the way for much richer dynamics between our characters than any of the other systems we've played, in part because as players we're less interested in acting on concensus to drive the plot forward. Working as one unit simply isn't the goal, and if it was, we would play a different system that encourages and rewards that.

the game's philosophy, aka setting intentions and also reading rules:

Now we're starting to get at the philosophy behind the game's design: It believes you have to know why you're playing burning wheel instead of literally any other game. This isn't a system you play on accident. It's admittedly a complicated game with a LOT of rules. It asks for a huge amount of engagement from all of the players, not just the GM - something like inter-PC conflict can only work well if everyone is on the same page (figuratively, but also literally lol) and ready to help adjudicate rules, ask for tests, discuss intentions, etc. Dream scenario for a chronic rules lawyer lol.

Obviously any game will be more fun if everyone has actually learned the rules before they start playing, but this is one where it's extremely difficult (if not impossible) to play if most players haven't learned them, and deeply rewarding if they have. It really operates on the expectation that everyone is putting in work, and everyone has respect for the time and effort the others are bringing to the table.

It's hard to put a finger on how this all impacts play other than the obvious elegence of People Knowing What Theyre Doing, but on a purely emotional and meta level, knowing that everyone is investing so much time and effort to play a game with you is just.. idk, it feels special and makes the time itself feel even more valuable. In that sense, the satisfaction of playing the game isn't coming from the game itself, but is still shaped by it.

(In my mind, this is the #1 reason to try the game, but as @thydungeongal alluded to yesterday, finding people willing and able to do it is also the #1 hurdle to, like, actually having a good time. it would be completely miserable otherwise.)

Also, for a game that does not boast a collaborative nature the way some others do, it is honestly pretty fuckin collaborative lol. I don't know that this was Luke Crane's intention in designing the game, but closing out sessions by going through and grading everyone's work and giving each other glorified gold stars, you will inevitably end up discussing and dissecting things, learning from people's character work, and seeing where and how you can improve individually and as a group. It creates a table culture that values honest expressions of discomfort or dissatisfaction, and also of appreciation and celebration. It's after-care. It leads naturally into setting intentions and expectations for the next session. It just feels really nice!!!

That's obviously a table culture that can be cultivated anyway, and it's a practice my group has learned to be very intentional about facilitating, but it's just interesting how The Burning Wheel of all systems manages to support that. I think that's what the website means when it says playing this changes how you play other rpgs lol

So yeah, idk how much more to say and also I'm sooooooo so eepy and was like an hour late for work, so its a weird brain day. but there you go lol

[a-ikuoliver]

kinktober day 31: maki + stepcest

w/c: 2.9k warning/s: f!reader (wearing a dress, referred to as woman), stepcest/incest, characters are referred to as sisters/use of honorifics, masturbation (r!receiving), panty sniffing/stealing, degradation, oral (r!giving), semi-public sex, maki's kinda (read: very) mean lmao notes: this is part of @ficsforgaza kinktober event!! ffg kinktober masterlist — please enjoy and check out the creators who helped raise over $400 usd for gaza aid!! this is my first time writing maki and i think i've gone blind from horniness so i think i did well LMAO inspo/acknowledgements: co-written with my lover @cottoncalicoes

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“congratulations again to the happy couple!” swallowing thickly, you take the opportunity during the applause to clear your throat, “and i’m so excited to be an honorary zen’in.”

you hate your cognisance of the weight of the microphone in your hand, your sweaty palms sliding against the metal no matter how nervously you adjusted your grip on the cylinder. you feel like you’re going through withdrawal, your lips too tight in your smile, showing too many teeth, your fingers twitching at your side, sweat beading on your brow as you stood at the centre of the dance floor in front of your new family on the best day of their lives.

for them, it looks like it is; mai, mingling with everyone in her stunning bridesmaid’s gown, dark green hair framing her pretty face, glitter sparkling on her eyelids in the low light, the blushing bride glowing at the centre table, her white slip dress rubbing against her grooms leg as he inched their chairs closer, both of them beaming with lovesick smiles. and maki, in a matching dress with her twin, the gown ruching, plunging and bunching on every addictive curve of her body, like your mother had chosen the dresses just to torture you. you, in comparison, look miserable with your flushed cheeks, darting eyes, clammy fingers attempting to pull the clinging fabric away from your searing skin.

you can’t do it. you can’t. you can’t even last a day without it.

your lewd vice. an unintentional habit born the week you moved in with your new family. you’d all settled into a routine quickly; family dinner, tidying the home, showering and bathing, and then slinking back to your bedroom for some peace. any apprehension you may have felt about the change melted from you when you’d stepped into the bathroom on your fifth night, the walls still sticky with humidity from your step-sisters shower, the faucet dripping against the porcelain tile rhythmically. only after stripping down to your underwear did you notice it; your downfall served to you on a silver platter. maki’s underwear strewn carelessly across the floor.

the fabric was plain. black. a boy short cut, curved to complement the shape of her ass. everything you'd expect from your new step-sister.

shame bubbled in your stomach, a pit of trepidation building the more you stared at the garment. moving on autopilot, hot water spouted from the shower, noisily hitting the tile and glass opposite it, steam billowing to the ceiling, your fingers snatching the panties before you can think about the repercussions, your left hand slipping between your thighs to furiously fuck yourself, your garbled moans and pants muffled by your right hand, holding her panties over your nose and lips like a depraved version of a mask.

each and every single day since had been no different. you and maki crossing paths, her hair still damp, droplets trailing down the skin of her neck, and you, refusing to meet her eye, hurrying into the bathroom after her, needing to huff and suck and lick at her underwear while they still tasted like your oneesan.

wetting your dry lips, you pass the microphone along to the next, family members rushing to pass along their well wishes to the happy couple, you only hope your new family doesn’t notice the way your eyes glaze over, meeting maki’s across the room. your (now official) step-sister stares over the top of the round frames of her glasses, tawny eyes studying you like she’s watching the memory replaying in your mind, too, hearing the wanton call of her name.

with a polite smile to a cousin who’s name escapes you, you slip from the banquet room, ducking your head past ornate decor, white, gold and a muted emerald green to match the bridesmaid dresses, the train of your own billowing after you as you rush toward the end of the hallway, near sprinting by the time you reach the door.

swinging the door open, your chest heaves, lungs tightening each time you try to catch your breath, too preoccupied with hiking the length of your dress up to focus on your breathing, too impatient to even hold your underwear aside when you press your fingertips to your aching clit, only just managing to slam the stall door shut before you breathe out an airy sigh.

the bathroom door swings open, the hinges creaking, a noise that should send your heart to your throat. instead, you only feel a frustrated scream build in your oesophagus, willing your unwanted guest to take care of themselves quickly, to let you take care of your issue.

their steps echo ominously toward your stall, each click in time with your erratic pulse before stopping outside your door, their shoes eerily similar to the heels maki adorned for the event.

“you're pathetic.” the familiar, bored voice rings from the opposite side of the stall, icy blood rushing in your ears nearly deafening you, “what’s it been, hm? not even an entire day without stuffing yourself full?”

your cunt aches at her tone, disappointment laced through every syllable, disappointed in your weakness, about to lecture you on self-control.

when you don’t answer her, she knocks sharply against the door, demanding your attention with the jarring note, “come here. now.”

reluctantly, you obey, a painful jolt shooting through your spine to your neglected clit when you drag your hand away, clenching your fists between your thighs, trying not to release a petulant groan, willing yourself not to whine and cry to your step-sister about your addiction, your debauched habit, the wail catching in your throat before it can be free. easing the door open, you attempt to steel your features, letting your dress fall back into place, hiding the slick on your thighs when you meet maki’s wolfish gaze.

“look at you,” she sneers, tilting her head to take in your dishevelled appearance — your dress creased at your hips, the angry marks your nails left in your palms, your swollen, bitten lips, “can you even get off without your nose stuffed in my underwear?”

your stomach drops at her words, eyes darting around the confined space, trying to find something to look at other than her face. feeble excuses tumble past chapped lips, stuttering over every word that comes to mind, finally landing on a complete sentence, “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

picking nervously at the bed of your nails, painted to match hers for the special day, you still avoid her sharp eyes, your gaze landing on her lips as she laughs at you.

“perverted and an actor,” crowding into the already cramped space, she’s sure to slide the lock into place behind her before she continues, “you really thought i wouldn’t notice your little habit?”

cowering under the heat of her stare, maki easily backs you against the wall, the tension thick enough even the dullest blade would slice through it; a heat blossoming anywhere she touches you, one hand at your shoulder, the other your waist, her hips pressing into yours to trap you beneath her patronising sneer.

“how long?” her slender fingers move to grasp your jaw, calloused fingertips squishing the fat of your cheeks, pressing them together until your lips parted dumbly, tilting your head to look into her shining eyes. the glass atop her nose flashes, a fierceness reflected back at you.

although, the longer you stare, the sooner you realise it’s her pupils swimming with the wickedness.

“what?”

“how long did you think you could get away with it?” pressing herself harder to you, she studies every minute reaction: the flutter of your eyelashes, the pucker of your lips, the whine in your throat, the wiggle of your hips, chasing the euphoria she was willing to give you with every adjustment of her hips.

“using me to get off like that,” leaning closer like she’s going to kiss you, she continues clicking her tongue at you, her voice dripping in vitriol, “stealing my underwear, getting yourself off to the smell of me like some pervert, and all i get is a selfish little sister and stained underwear.”

digging her fingertips into your side to halt your wiggling, you bite back a moan, a small part of you worried you’re going to stain her dress with your slick.

“christ, and you’re getting off on this, too?” looking down her nose at you, there’s a pang of humiliation blooming at the nape of your neck until she grins, as evil as the glint in her eye, “you fucking freak.”

“i’m not a freak.”

maki laughs, no, snicker at your weak voice, sounding more like a frightened child trying to stand up to its playground bully, 'sensei said you're not allowed to snatch,', dropping her hand from your waist, she slips it between your thighs, allowing you to wiggle and grind into her hand, your body still screaming to cum, here, like this, with your sister’s fingers inspecting the slick drooling from your pussy, the voice in your head screaming at you to leave growing quieter and quieter, silenced for good when she swipes her thumb over your clit.

“you have a different word for getting this wet for me?”

heat rushes to your face, stammering like a poor little victim again as she strokes your dripping slit painstakingly slowly, “you know what i think?”

you only whine in acknowledgement, reaching for her wrist in an attempt to get closer, to feel her weight pinning you, her heat, for more.

tightening her grip on your jaw, she sadistically draws her fingers away from you, “when your oneesan asks you a question, freak, you answer.”

“w-what do you think, maki?”

“show some respect,” she goads, “what do you moan when your fingers are stuffing your greedy cunt? say it.”

“what do you think… oneesan,” you sound pathetic moaning the honorific, the taste of it on your tongue enough to make your cunt pulse and gush, your empty hole clenching around nothing when maki rewards you with her thumb stroking circles on your clit.

a predatory smile graces her lips, still glossy with makeup, her feminine features twisting as she taunts you, “i think you owe me.”

it doesn’t take much for maki to get you to your knees, pushing at your limbs until you’re fumbling to kneel on the frigid tiled floor beneath her, your face level with her crotch. even maki’s hands tangling in your hair can’t stop you from pressing your face between her thighs, the dull pain of her tug at your scalp nothing compared to the ache in your stomach, a hearth burning and smouldering with each prod, pinch and spit from your step-sister. the scent of her like gasoline, your kindled hearth quickly growing into an uncontrollable flame.

she was right, you can’t get off without this anymore, without the taboo, the scent of her, the taste of her on the cotton.

your eyelids flutter, dazed when you dip your head beneath the hem of her dress, sucking in a deep breath with your face pressed to her cunt, already addicted to how much better it is like this – the heat of her muscular thighs around your head, the strength of her smell, the way you can trace the shape of her cunt while sucking her taste from the material, more and more of her cum starting to drool from her cunt the more you tried to lap it up, greedily drinking everything in.

hot blood rushes in your ears, into your cunt, pressing your face harder into her cunt, bruising your nose against her pubic bone while mouthing desperately at her pussy. as if remembering yourself, you bring your hands up to join your ravenous mouth beneath her dress, a whimper torn from your throat when she snatches you away from her soaked underwear.

“still so greedy, aren’t you?” maki’s eyes match yours, a debauched need burning in the depths of her dark eyes, “use your manners. ask for a taste.”

“oneesan,” you don’t hesitate like you did moments ago, too caught up with the desperation to taste her firsthand, instead of your face buried in her panties trying to taste the minute amount of her through the material, too caught up in your sister’s gravity to bring yourself to care about the humiliating position she had you in. with a broken voice, you plead, “please, let me taste you, oneesan.”

hazel eyes flash at your eagerness, hardly moving an inch in a nod before you're pouncing on her — pawing at her underwear like a woman starved, tugging the material down enough to curl your tongue around the string connecting her to the fabric before you abandoned them in place of spreading her thighs apart, conscious of every precious second that could be spent with your nose bumping against her clit.

if you thought you were addicted before, tasting maki like this had you hooked, euphoria swimming in your veins when your tongue connected with her flesh. you didn't think you could sink any lower than suckling your step-sisters underwear clean in the shared bathroom, but stuffed and kneeling in a bathroom stall at your parents wedding, you realised you had miles left to sink for her. moaning against her skin, you press forward, crawling on your hands and knees to impatiently suck at her skin even as she stumbled into the stall door.

saliva slips down your throat, your lips wet with it when you keen, curling and swirling your tongue over every inch of her cunt you can possibly reach like this, desperately pawing at her thighs to get more, taste more, touch more, just more.

“god,” crossed eyes meet hers, expecting her to look even half as debased as you do, instead eye to eye with her glare, one dark brow quirked, there's only disinterest reflecting back in her pupils, “i finally let you eat my cunt, and this is the best you can do?”

gripping the hair at the base of your skull, she steps over you until you’re stretching awkwardly to keep your head comfortably in her grip, one of your hands holding her ass to stay upright while she positions herself to fuck your mouth, “maybe you should just stick to licking my cum off my underwear. seems that’s all you’re good at.”

tightening her hold on your hair, maki manoeuvres you beneath her, tugging your hair — and subsequently your head — where she wants you. she's slow, deliberate, at first, tortuously so, your tongue tracing sensuously along her slit, dipping into her cunt to taste the cum beginning to drip from her, before she’d drag you backward to her clit.

while pushing and pulling you, her hips grind in a perfect rhythm to soak her pussy, working herself  closer and closer, using your tongue like some toy; grinding harder on your face when she wants to let you have a taste, tugging you back by the hair when she wants to watch the way your lips are connected to her cunt with a silky white string, studying how your eyes roll into your skull, hazy with lust when it snaps back onto your bottom lip.

“so lucky your oneesan is here to teach you how to eat pussy, hm?” her cheeks are flush, the only sign of your affect on her other than the cum sticking to her thighs, to your lips like her perverted take on lip gloss. licking her cum from your mouth, you nod, your eyes darting back to her cunt in a silent plead for her to let you continue, to taste her cum as her thighs shake around your head.

she obliges your taboo request, a hiss echoing in the small stall when you dig your nails into the fat of her ass, burying your face in her once more — gently lapping at her pussy while your nose rubbed against her clit, the scent of her cunt driving you insane, her smell embedded in the hair just above her clit making you dizzy, grateful for your kneeling position, taking everything in you to be patient, to go slow, to follow her movements as she strings you along.

sucking and swirling your tongue around her clit until she cants her hips, slurping and flattening your tongue to drink in much of her as you could, mouthing along her slit when she'd cradle the back of your skull to hold you close to her.

you think she's close, her clit pulsing like yours did beneath your fingers when you'd nearly suffocate yourself with her panties to your nose, her pussy clenching around your tongue, her hips jumping erratically. her moan wavers as her hold on your skull tightens, dull nails scratching angry marks into your scalp as she holds you with both hands, using your face, spreading her cum all around your nose, lips and jaw, your tongue stuck out dumbly as she takes what she needs from you, holding your face deep into her cunt when she cums with an airy, drawn out hum — silky cream drooling straight onto your tongue while you hungrily lapped at her skin, licking her cunt and thighs clean of the precious liquid, ears perking at each of your sister's sharp inhales.

like an over excitable puppy, maki has to pull you away from her again, “you were alright.” she pants, catching her breath as you stare up at her with clouded eyes, “try harder tonight you can keep the panties to jerk off with, pervert."

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[rainstormwrite]

The new update is now public.

Hello again, people!

That's it. This is the day.

The new update is now public.

(You're required to start a new playthrough if you don't want any game-breaking bugs, by the way.)

What's done:

All three routes are finished.

All the POVs are rewritten to be in the third person (they actually feel way better than I thought they would be).

Some parts of the first fight scene are fixed and clarified.

Some pronoun bugs are fixed.

What's planned:

…

Writing another update, obviously.

Word count:

Including command lines: 271245 Excluding command lines: 260837

But, I would ask you to temper your expectations in terms of the new content's single playthrough length. I'm going to paraphrase this from my previous post: the actual amount of content that was added with this new update is somewhere between 15 to 25 pages (approximately).

Even though the word count increased from 53k to 260k, the only event to happen in this update is one conversation/confrontation (ridiculous, I know). This is primarily due to the overwhelming amount of variable text that changes depending on your earlier choices and due to the number of routes you can take. If you're interested in the reasons for me to decide to do that, check out my previous post.

So, basically, each reader will experience the new content very differently but may not get as much satisfaction due to its shortness. If that is the case, I can only suggest you make another playthrough with different choices, but, if that's not your cup of tea, I would totally understand. But, overall, the game is very… how do I put it..? Multiple-playthroughs-friendly, I'd say.

Safe to say, the update will be incredibly polarizing, no doubt, but I'm always open to feedback.

And, even though I haven't found any bugs or inconsistencies, I am obviously aware that someone else may find them, so, if you are that someone, please report the bugs to me.

I think that's all regarding the update itself, so go ahead and play it. Hope you will like it!

PLAY THE UPDATE

Now, onto other interesting things…

From this point onward, I'm starting to take writing seriously, and that's why I've finally decided to open my Patreon page.

I've made a free introductory post there that explains what I'll be offering, but, right off the bat, I want to tell you that I can't offer you things that other creators are usually offering: Q&As and What-if scenarios. If we're talking about Q&As, I don't want to do them because I consider mystery to be a big part of my work, so I don't really want to wiggle around every question that people will ask me because it won't be fair to them and won't feel good to me. As for What-if scenarios, I don't want to write out some hypothetical scenarios when I can spend that time to progress the plot forward in the actual story. And, trust me, if I'm going to spread my attention too thin, I'm never going to finish this project… And I don't think you and I want that.

What I will provide, however, are progress updates, sneak peeks, early access, and monthly side stories, which the community will be able to choose by voting.

So, I'd advise you to read through the new update first, decide whether you're willing to put up with my approach to the content, and then consider subscribing if what I offer on Patreon is enough for you. If, after all that, you decide to become a member, I'll be very grateful to you. If not, I will still appreciate you being interested in my work and taking the time to read through it.

Thanks for tuning in, and have a pleasant day or a peaceful night!