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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year

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games about pro wrestling?

THEME: Pro Wrestling

Hello there friend, I sure do have you covered! Get ready for some signature moves, trash-talking drama, and some of the flashiest costumes out there!

World Wide Wrestling: Second Edition, by Nathan D. Paoletta.

Welcome to World Wide Wrestling: Second Edition! This award-winning game of professional wrestling action enables you to create your own professional wrestling franchise through play, showcasing satisfying and surprising storylines. It’s about feuds, championships, betrayal, and righteous victory. It’s about the clash of good and evil on the grandest stage. It’s about whether you’ve got what it takes. And, in the end, it’s about what the audience thinks of your efforts.

InWorld Wide Wrestling, Creative (the GM role) sets up the show, orders the card and books the matches ahead of time. The players choose archtypical pro wrestling Gimmicks, like the Monster, the Veteran, the Luchador, and so on as the base for their character. Wrestlers play through what Creative has planned, but they have the ability and autonomy to pursue their own feuds, set up their own matches and swerve Creative's booking. Creative's job is to make it look like that was the plan all along. Characters are the wrestler as a professional; this means that you play out both their on-screen costumed persona, and their backstage efforts to maintain and progress their careers (and the ways the two effect each other).

This game has a stellar reputation: it’s been edited thoroughly and is reported to have some of the best GM advice for folks who want to learn how to run Powered by the Apocalypse games. Because it’s designed to emulate a very niche piece of media, the game comes with a lot of structure to guide your players through tournaments, backstage arguments, and character storylines that highly encourage personal growth and change. I highly recommend this game.

What’s So Cool About Lucha Libre?, by Color Spray Games.

You are a técnico, a wrestler who fights for the common folk. As an honorable luchador, you wear an iconic mask and fight evil wherever it arises. It is your sworn duty to oppose any rudo who serves evil causes. As a luchador you're equal parts wrestler and superhero. Sometimes you wrestle rudos in the ring; sometimes you wrestle vampires in Hell or aliens in outer space. How? That mask you wear es mágica. It gives you special powers and lets you see beyond El Mundo Viviente, the world we live in, to perceive El Mundo Espiritual - the world of spirits, monsters, and gods.

What's So Cool About Lucha Libre? is a rules-lite RPG for 1 GM and 1 or more players. It's a Borderpunk game, which means it blends Mexican-American culture and media with themes of social justice and political activism. Don the mask of a superheroic wrestler and prepare to fight for justice and oppose evil wherever it arises.

I’m intrigued by the intention behind the design of this game. The document is partially written in English and in Spanish, but in such a way that it shouldn’t provide any barriers to English Speakers (Google Translate is great if you’re really stuck). It’s a love letter to bilingual speakers.

The game system is built off of the What’s So Cool…? System designed by Jared Sinclair, which relies a simple but descriptive character creation. Advantages and disadvantages will provide both narrative and mechanical details: will you get to use your Signature Style? Did you get injured recently? There’s also a great move called El Super Ataque that requires no rolls but gives you a one time, superheroic success! If you want a pro wrestling ttrpg that amps the action up to 11 and pits you against werewolves, zombie cops, evil scientists and more, you should absolutely check out this game!

One Wrestling Ring to Rule Them All, by Dice Capital.

There is a centre to the universe, with a canvas floor and ring ropes.

One Wrestling Ring to Rule Them All is a 24-page, fully illustrated tabletop RPG, where players take on the role of pro Wrestlers and fight for the audience's amusement.

You'll improvise narrative hooks and events to bring to a climax in the ring with all the combo powerbombs and flying dropkicks you can muster! All the while Wrestlers will have to manage their Kayfabe, to stay committed to their role while not injuring their fellow performers.

The game comes with sheets for The Wrestlers, The Ref (the game's equivalent of a Game Master), and also papercraft to create miniature wrestlers and a wrestling ring.

This game cares very much about the audience, with an Audience Score that will drop unless the wrestlers make sure to be as entertaining as possible. If the Audience Score drops to Zero, you’ll hit an immediate game over - the match is so uninteresting, the audience just gets up and leaves! If you’re looking for a game that focuses on the entertainment of pro-wrestling more than on winning a fight, and if you want resources that help the uninitiated learn more about the world of Pro-Wrestling as they play, this is a great option to check out.

The Flexorcists, by kumada1.

It started in the late year 200X. Ghosts, demons, and other occult forces grew resistant to conventional exorcisms. Minor possessions, the kind that would previously have been resolved with a sprinkle of holy water and a few minutes of half-hearted praying, suddenly became multiple-hour-long, life-or-death ordeals.

Major possessions swallowed entire townships and broke holy men. Worse, the unspoken rule that a possessing force had to operate only through the local environment became snapped and frayed. Possessors could now manifest physically, and they were extremely swole. Thus, the world entered a new age of banishments. Gone were the days when any reedy man could cast out a demon. Fighting the supernatural was now a job for…

The Flexorcists.

The Flexorcists is a 23 page tabletop rpg about pro-wrestlers working a side-gig where they banish ghosts, stake draculas, and powerbomb creatures from lagoons. It’s a great combination of stat-based strengths that make your characters competent, and descriptive Gimmicks that make your character interesting and unique. One of my favourite things in this book is your Signature Move, which you can use a three-part set of roll tables to generate if you don’t know where to start!

For Game Masters, there’s a list of clients, locations, and paranormal pests to draw inspiration from. There’s also a step-by-step guide to help you figure out how to run a job - accompanied with some hilarious art that makes this game all the more enjoyable to read. If you want some funky fun that is guaranteed to get you coming up with the most over-the-top scenarios possible, this is absolutely worth checking out!

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Try Not To Wrestle, by Hark Forsooth Games.

#dnd #game recommendations #pro wrestling #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #asks

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bogambiance · 2 years

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Eddie Munson is in the Upside Down and he’s wielding a homemade sword and a nail-studded shield against an interdimensional swarm of bats alongside a child.

The kid’s smart and capable of course. Still a kid all though, even with all his experience in alternate dimensions. Real ones, too, beyond those featured in the Dungeons and Dragons Players Handbook. But if it had to be a child, Eddie’s glad it was Dustin.

Dustin Henderson was hilarious and annoying, so confident it came off rude and unbelievably clever — the little brother Eddie always wanted. Not that he was ever going to tell the kid that. At least not until Dustin graduated or something, and Eddie was struggling to figure out what to put in the card besides $15 cash.

He wished Dustin didn’t have to be there at all. He shouldn’t be, really. He was so young. Eddie wished he was capable of executing the distraction himself, without having to endanger anyone else. He wished he was brave enough to at least try. But as it was, it was him and a 14-year-old nerd doing their part to save the world.

Not the worst odds he’d ever gone up against.

There are other ways they could’ve called the bats, but back in Eddie’s real trailer Robin had pointed to the amp and smiled. “I bet there’s nothing in Hawkins louder than Eddie Munson on guitar.”

Steve had laughed quietly, like he thought Eddie might take offense. Max had snorted, her faithful headphones hanging around her neck and blasting Kate Bush. She was afraid and trying not to show it. Lucas had tried to amend Robin’s statement, saying “walking right into Vecna’s house and putting on a free show? Isn’t he the bad guy?”

It was sweet. That’s what his new friends were, overwhelmingly so — sweet. Smart. Bloodthirsty. Thoughtful. Funny. Vicious. Wholly unexpected. Eddie was embarrassed by how good it felt to be liked by them.

He wondered if he and Robin would hang out after all this; if she would come out to him on her own or if he would have to go first. It would probably be Eddie. He wasn’t especially patient.

He wondered how long Steve was going to hold onto his vest. He’d left Army Surplus with it stuffed into one of those plastic Thank You, Have a Nice Day! bags, but didn’t give it back. Instead Steve made brief eye contact with him before tucking it away, looking nervous like he’d been caught sneaking dessert. There’s something there, Eddie thought. Something in the lingering glances and the lack of personal space and the charged comments.

But strangely, Eddie was mostly wondering about Hellfire. Sitting on the roof of his not-trailer in an alternate dimension while he waited for a flashlight signal from an 11-year-old to call upon demobats, he thought about the future of his beloved club. What would become of it? Would they have to change the name after all that happened? Would people everywhere stop playing D&D because they were afraid of the devil?

What a silly thing to be afraid of, he thought. Eddie had seen the devil, had watched it crack bones and steal eyes. And it hadn’t needed a role-playing game to do it. He hoped that if he left Hellfire in good hands, it could make a comeback.

Eddie looked at Dustin sitting there next to him in his stupid fucking knight outfit and asked what kind of campaign he would run if he was a dungeon master. Dustin’s face lit up, and the way he went on Eddie knew he’d been thinking about it for a long time. His plans were so detailed, going beyond the narrative to include hand-painted minis, ambient music for battles, and even props. It made Eddie smile, and he decided that when this was all over he’d show Dustin how to run Hellfire.

But his musing were cut short by the signal, and when Eddie stood up to grab his guitar his hands were shaking. But Dustin? Dustin knelt down to turn his amp up, and he almost looked excited. Eddie wasn’t like him or the rest of these battle-weary soldiers — he was afraid. Terrified, even, deep down to his bones. He didn’t want to be there and he didn’t want to see the demobats again and he absolutely didn’t want to taunt them, to offer himself up as a sacrifice to their terrible jaws. It made him freeze, that fear. But then Dustin gave him a thumbs up and even though he was mind-numbingly afraid, Eddie moved.

“Chrissy,” he whispered to himself. “This one’s for you.”

Eddie started Master of Puppets like he hadn’t only been learning it for a handful of weeks, made it sound easy and powerful and sick as fuck, if he could say so himself. Playing it felt more important than anything else he’d done in his life. Maybe it was; they were trying to save the world after all. Then the swarm appeared.

Everything happened so fast after that. The next thing he knew, Eddie was getting ready to crawl back through the ceiling to safety. He’d done it, him and Dustin. Their part was complete. Now it was up to his friends to do the rest.

His friends.

Eddie paused where he was holding the knotted sheets. The bats threw themselves against the tin trailer, making a dull thumping sound that overwhelmed all other noise. Dustin was staring up at him, waiting for him to follow. Eddie figured that as soon as they left the Upside Down, the bats would know. They would sense it and retreat to the house, their hive mind like nerve endings all leading back to Vecna.

Eddie thought about Vecna’s gnarled skin and reality-bending power, vile and terrible and more lethal than an atomic bomb. He thought about Chrissy Cunningham, standing in his living room so beautiful and sweet one moment and then bending until she broke the next. He thought about running away after, about not even checking if she was still alive or calling an ambulance before he booked it. He thought about how much was riding on this stupid, doomed plan of theirs. He thought about his friends all doing far more dangerous things than he was, be it invading the monster’s lair or being invaded by the monster themselves. He thought about a town that hated him but a few wonderful, stupid, foolhardy people who loved him — about Wayne, about Gareth and Jeff, and about all the morons risking their lives alongside him.

He looked up at Dustin where he was safely deposited in the right side up. The kid’s gonna be okay, Eddie told himself. He would get to be dungeon master, and then grow up to be a rocket scientist or something, probably. He would live a long, full, happy life. Eddie was going to make sure of it.

Before he could think better of it, the 20-year-old reached up and sliced the rope. His heart fell just as the line did, his only exit going slack and dropping into his hands. But it was too late to turn back now.

“What are you doing?” Dustin yelled.

“Buying some time.”

Eddie ran out of the house and threw himself onto Mike Wheeler’s bike, his heart pounding as the demobats screeched. He peddled as fast as he could, hoping beyond all reason that he would outrun these things. It was stupid, really, and he knew that. But he had to try — had to do all he could to make this plan work, to ensure his friends’ safety, to buy them just a little more time.

And he did. With his help, Nancy, Steve, and Robin got to Vecna and made that motherfucker pay. They burned him beyond recognition and shot his corpse until he was little more than a pile of flesh. Finally defeated, the creature would be forced to exit Max’s mind once and for all. She would fall, safe and unharmed, into Lucas’ waiting arms.

At least that’s what Eddie told himself as he stared up into the dank, gooey darkness of the Upside Down sky and bled out. He knew that’s what was happening, had known since the demobat bit into his neck artery. But what was there to do? By the time they all fell around him like birds in a plague, it was too late. He tasted ash and copper and the miserable slime that covered everything in this hellhole, and tried to keep still. He heard his heartbeat, which had thumped so hard while he fought, begin to falter. He watched his blood, which had been pouring out of him when he fell, slow to a dribble. He felt his wounds, unbearably painful only moments ago, go cold and fuzzy, like a limb fallen asleep. Eddie thought falling asleep didn’t sound too bad right then. Just for a second, he told himself, then I’ll get up and go home.

But then he heard Dustin screaming, and he opened his eyes. That stupid fucking twerp, how did he get back through the gate? The 14-year-old’s face appeared above his, and Eddie was ashamed to be relieved. He’d done this to help Dustin, not put him in more danger. But he was glad he wasn’t alone.

“Eddie, Eddie,” Dustin panicked, hands frozen above his mentor’s quickly paling body. “Oh God, Eddie!”

“Bad, huh?” He tried to joke.

“No, you’re gonna be fine,” Dustin lied. “Just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?”

“Okay.”

“All right, all right,” he said to himself, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and dragging him onto his lap.

“I think...”

“Come on,” Dustin begged. He touched a wound and his fingers came away with blood.

“I think I just...I think I just need a second, okay?” Eddie said. He wished Dustin wasn’t here to see him like this, didn’t want the kid to watch him die.

“Okay,” Dustin choked, moisture filling his eyes.

Eddie knew but didn’t care that it was self-indulgent when he asked, “I didn’t run away this time, right?”

“No,” Dustin cried. Tears rolled down his cheeks, still round with youth. “No, no, no. You didn’t run.”

Eddie smiled. That made him feel brave, finally. He just hadn’t realized it would cost him so much. “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”

“No, you’re gonna do that yourself.”

“Nah man,” Eddie shook his head as much as he could, which wasn’t a lot. His body wasn’t really responding anymore. “Say I’m gonna look after them. Say it.”

“I’m…” Dustin was fully sobbing then, but managed to choke out, “I’m gonna look after them.”

“Good, cause I’m actually gonna graduate.” Eddie chuckled weakly at the idea. It was a little funny. “I think it’s my year Henderson.”

Dustin nodded hard, his hands gripping Eddie so tightly that it would’ve hurt, if he could still feel things. He took a long moment to form his next sentence, the words almost getting lost in the blood that gurgled in his throat. “I think it’s finally my year.”

With what little strength he had left, Eddie reached up to squeeze Dustin’s arm — his heir, his friend, his brother. “I love you man.”

“I love you too,” Dustin assured him. Eddie believed that. But he hoped that at some point Dustin would forget this day.

“Eddie?” Dustin called, and Eddie didn’t understand why he was yelling. He was right there. He could hear Dustin fine, until he couldn’t. “Eddie? Eddie! Come on, Eddie!”

Dustin’s voice faded, fainter and fainter as the sky lightened. The Upside Down melted away and left there on ground was Eddie, suddenly 13 again. He and Wayne had just moved into the trailer park and all their things were still in boxes. His uncle had sent him outside to run off some energy before he continued “helping” so Eddie had sprinted to the entrance of the the park. He’d returned exhausted, his chest heaving, and fell onto his back in their new yard where his body was cushioned by the tall, soft grass. Just inside he could hear Wayne mumbling along to the Grateful Dead, accompanied by the clank of ceramic as he put away the dishes. The air was thick and heavy with summer heat, smelling like the dirt road he’d been running on and pollen from the woods. He was being cradled by the earth beneath him, by the hot sun above, by the enormity of new possibility stretching out before him in this new place, in his new home of Hawkins, Indiana.

Eddie stared up into the endless, impossible blueness of August sky and thought about all that could come next. He forgot what he had been doing before lying down, but he figured he must be closing his eyes because the light was fading. That’s okay, he thought, I’m tired anyway. Wayne would come wake him up when it was time for dinner. Eddie stopped fighting the encroaching blackness and instead focused on the sound of the radio intertwined with his uncle’s comforting voice where it drifted out through the open window.

But if you fall, you fall alone If you should stand, then who's to guide you? If I knew the way I would take you home

Eddie smiled to himself. He felt the tall grass tickle his exposed skin, the summer sun warm his cold body, the gentle breeze sift through his dark curls, and then nothing.

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thecheckeredchaser · 1 month

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Ch 9

Insured Gains

Chapter 10- One Door Closes

Jake woke to the sound of his alarm and groggily reached for it to shut it off. His brain was a total haze for the first couple seconds, and then the memory of the night before flooded back to him. As of late, his first waking thoughts were about Alexis, so it wasn’t surprising that it happened today. However, yesterday they had embarked on something completely new, for himself at least. Jake looked around to find he was alone in the room, slightly disappointed. He looked at his cell and saw a message from Alexis at 2am. “Goodnight Jake.” The message was punctuated with a pink pig emoji. He felt his face heat up at that. He proceeded to get ready, taking the time to clean up the fast food garbage from last night, as well as the trash from pizza the night before that. He packed what he could into the already full can in the kitchen, which was having its limits pushed as a safe haven for take out wrappers. Jake sighed as he pulled the bag out, but felt a flicker of arousal. “Alexis wouldn’t care,” he muttered to himself. “In fact, she’d reward me for it,” he said proudly.

She had certainly rewarded him yesterday. He almost worried if he thought about it too much, he would realize it was an utterly vivid fantasy he’d had. But going off the full-ish feeling he felt upon waking and the Wendy's bag, he guessed it was really real. He wanted to text her, to get a jump start on her attention and praise, but decided against it. Alexis had the power to make Jake feel completely foolish. He co-owned his own company, where his name was listed first. He had a house, technically two, an expensive car, and a big office. Though he was getting divorced, it seemed a further testament of how established he already was. He was confident of himself and generally in complete control of all parts of his life. And yet, Alexis had to merely join his work force and his rigid exterior was instantly harboring jello. None helped by him starting to look more like it on the outside. Or perhaps perfectly helped.

The ultimate silver lining to bulking up like he had was getting Alexis’ attention. He would never have dreamed of garnering the interest of an essential Playboy model, let alone being completely under the control of one. Jake didn’t love to dwell on how much younger Lexi was, as it started to feel creepy if he did so, but he was enticed by the fact. She could be with anyone she chose. But she chose him. And in her youth, she didn’t hold onto the same old fashioned principles he had. She was a millennial who lived by the philosophy of ‘go big or go home’, ‘YOLO’, and ‘#treat yourself’. He appreciated that spark in her. She liked getting trendy foods for the fun of trying them, and followed blogs to stay up to date on the latest food porn. Certainly the kind the public was aware of, and probably also the kind they weren't aware of.

Jake and his wife had gotten into a true rut of doing and talking about the same things. Her job, friend, and a morning talk show that was mostly gossip, but she discussed it like news. When she started to be insufferable about his weight, it became her new thing to talk about. A coworker told her about this diet. He would need to lose weight if they were going to vacation in Mexico. Was he really comfortable in that shirt? Jake was beyond happy to not have to entertain and dodge those conversations.

He made his way to work and noticed that Alexis’ car was already in the garage. Jake felt his heart flutter. He zipped by Gina, only offering a wave and nod. He didn’t have time to play her little game. She had really amped it up, since Alexis and himself had started actively flirting, and more. He guessed Lexi was right. Gina was picking up on more than he knew.

He stepped out of the elevator and felt his heart burst when her smile greeted him. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she responded, her smile still beaming. He wanted to tell her how disappointed he was that she hadn’t stayed, but didn’t want to put any inadvertent pressure on her to be more romantic with him or to come off clingy. He decided to go to what he was confident in. Work.

“What is on the schedule today?” he said, putting a hand in his pocket. Alexis grinned and looked at her screen, still finding joy in working under him. But her smile shifted into a cringing look. “What?”

“You have a meeting with the lawyers today?” she offered gently.

“Cedar Pines? Again?” he questioned. He scratched his head, confused.

“Your… personal lawyers.” Jake sighed. Of course. He was meeting with the divorce lawyers. He looked at Alexis, clearly taking the hit to his mood. He processed the information and looked at her curiously. “It’s at 8:00,” she said grimacing. “In 40 minutes.”

“Thanks for reminding me. What a blow, huh?” he said, trying to laugh at the situation.

“I got you breakfast.” Lexi lifted a McDonald’s bag up cheerily, the hashbrowns calling to him through the grease stain.

“Because you are perfect.” He took the bag from her and gestured his head to his office, offering her to join him. He enjoyed the sausage biscuit first as an appetizer, before moving onto the sausage egg McMuffin. He was not hungry until she had mentioned it, and he felt himself radiate in his gluttonous routine. He looked up at Alexis who enjoyed a fruit parfait herself. “I really appreciate this Lexi. You have certainly overindulged me a bit lately. Especially yesterday.” He was surprised she had not already brought it up herself.

“It was a phenomenal day and evening. I was a little worried you wouldn’t be hungry enough to eat breakfast,” she teased with a wink.

“So worried that you got me two sandwiches.” His anxiety about the upcoming meeting resurfaced. He had hoped that it would get rescheduled again, as it had last time. Typically it could delay another month or two before everyone was available to have a meeting again. He was hoping he could avoid going to court, but every time he got on the call, his wife reminded him of exactly why her filing was a gift. He wanted it over, but also never wanted to see her again. It disgusted him to hear how she talked about the possessions they collected in their life together. And she found an infinite number of ways to slip in jabs about his weight. His brows furrowed and instantly raised when he looked at Alexis. “Would you want to sit in on the meeting? Secretly,” he asked. She looked beyond intrigued.

“I’m definitely not supposed to,” she said naughtily. He nodded. “I’d love to. As long as you don’t think it will be too invasive for you.”

“For me? Not at all. I think you might enjoy it.”

“More than you enjoyed breakfast?” Jake had just finished sipping his coffee and put the back of his hand to his mouth, unsuccessfully attempting to mute a belch. He watched a surge of pleasure wash over her.

“You make me this way,” he accused, rubbing his belly. It was nothing close to the damage done yesterday. He thought he would never feel full again after that indulgence, but his quick breakfast proved to be sitting atop his lingering bloat from the night before.

“And I’m proud.” she went over and prodded his belly, her touch ever familiar to him. He nearly whimpered as her fingers ran over his belly's dome. He felt himself swoon, thinking of each moment the day prior when he thought he couldn't eat anymore and Lexi encouraged him. That evening she could not get enough of him, nor he of her. "You are just down to chow always huh?" She said playfully, pushing the hash brown to his lips and halfway into his mouth. He was excited by her assertiveness, though eating the hash brown in two bites was very routine for him. It was greasy and crispy. She had him finish the other half and kissed his shimmering lips. She handed him his drink and rubbed his stomach, expectantly. Jake could feel it brewing inside him, and it came to surface with a few loving pats from Alexis.

"Grwaaup." She winked at him and Jake smiled back bashfully, cleaning up his desk.

"I wonder if she'll notice."

"Notice what?"

"How much of a pig you've been. Duh," she said, slipping out of the office to get ready to eavesdrop. Jake's hands subconsciously stroked his gut before he snapped back to business.

She poured herself some tea, and Jake nervously tested his camera and microphone. Since the pandemic and the influx of zoom meetings, he became increasingly worried he’d have a technological faux pas, having seen too many professionals meet their demise that way. Alexis returned and sat curled up in the chair across from his desk with her laptop. He hovered over the ‘start call’ button and clicked after Alexis gave an encouraging and eager nod.

Marcella’s face popped up on the screen and Jake felt his expression go to stone. He respectfully listened to their lawyers do their pleasant introductions and get the meeting started. “When we last met we came to the agreement that Mrs. Andrews,” Jakes’ lawyer started. Jake couldn’t stand to hear her called that and smirked when he looked over at Alexis who was fake gagging. “Will get the boat and Mr. Andrews will keep the cabin. We have just a few things to review and hopefully we can come to an agreement today. Finally.”

“And we cannot revisit those items at all?” Marcella’s voice shook the speakers, from her audio being out of whack.

“I think your lawyer will agree, ma’am, that we have revisited those items ad nauseam.” Jake chuckled at the exasperated expression of his wife’s lawyer, who clearly regretted taking her on as such a difficult client. They began discussing the home the two shared. The same home that Jake had personally designed and had built for the two of them, without her financial support. He thought it was silly to divide up anything and to consider giving her ownership of what was so clearly his. His lawyer knew he wanted the house over everything. Jake glanced back at Lexi, who though trying to get some semblance of work done, could not stop listening to the call. He looked down at his phone as it lit up.

Alexis had sent, “You look so hot. Wish I knew what she looked like”. Jake snuck a picture of his screen and sent it to her. Marcella was not ugly, by any means, but she was no smokeshow. She looked perhaps slightly slimmer than when he had moved out, no doubt in an effort to prove how debilitating his company had been, failing the acknowledge, as always, that it had been the lavish lifestyle she loved so much. He didn’t want to notice how much older she looked, despite wearing enough makeup to supply a circus. Alexis texted again, “4/10”. He had to stop himself from laughing, checking to ensure his mic was off. He assumed this was how kids in high school or college felt, when texting during class. He supposed it could apply to a work meeting, but he could hardly take his attention away to text during that.

“I just feel like there are certain things I should get by default, since Jake doesn’t even use them. And before you ask for specifics Johnathan,” she said snidely to Jake’s lawyer, “I have a list prepared. I think I should get all the workout equipment, including the Bowflex Home Gym. He simply doesn’t have enough will power points to sit on the bench. I also want the value of the hot tub, if I cannot have the house. He won't even take his shirt off at a private pool. Wasteful. But kind. This is unusual, but I think I should get his ring. I know I didn’t purchase it, but it simply does not fit his fat fingers.” Jake braced himself to control his expression as he glanced over the screen. Alexis’ mouth was gaping open. She looked like she wanted to scream and laugh, and when she quietly left the office, Jake assumed it was for exactly that. He could see Marcellla looking at him on the camera, and made an effort to glare directly into the lens. Jake’s lawyer took the opportunity to remind her that this was not her stage to criticize Jake from.

Alexis re-entered with something in her hand. She placed a small paper bag on his desk, remaining out of view. Jake looked in the bag and pulled out two donuts. Jelly and chocolate frosted sprinkle. He didn’t have to ask her if she expected him to eat them, as it was far too obvious. Jake felt the heat on the back of his neck as he brought the bright white jelly donut to his mouth, drinking up Alexis’ stare. She seemed to be looking at him, but entirely focused on the audio from the computer. Marcella had begun a rampage on how frustrating it was to be shushed every time she brought up his weight, because for her it was exactly relevant.

“Would we be sitting here today if Jake could stop himself from stuffing his face? No. Look at him right now!” she shrieked in frustration. Jake took another huge bite, expertly catching the jelly that attempted to escape with his tongue. “I know you do this stuff on purpose Jake. You look like you gained 20 lbs since I saw you last, and that is in your face alone! Stand up. Give us a twirl. I'll do one!” Jake could see that Marcella was still raging, but had been muted by her own lawyer, who proceeded to pull her into a private window. Jake’s lawyer shook his head and gave him a thumbs up. They both knew it would be over soon. Jake pushed the rest of his donut into his mouth. Alexis gestured to him that the corners of his mouth were still powdered and he licked at the corners suggestively, even though on camera.

The lawyer and very aggravated woman both rejoined the main call. The lawyer sighed as he turned his mic on. “Marcella has a last request for Jake before proceeding.” She looked displeased with the intro, but cleared her throat.

“Jake. I would be happy to drop all this. All the lawyers and fighting. If you are committed to getting healthier, I would be more than satisfied in taking you back.” Jake stared at the screen and then to Lexi, who looked like she was watching Jerry Springer. Jake turned back to the screen. He hit unmute.

“I know you are joking now. So glad you found your sense of humor Marcella.”

“Jake, I am not joking. I found success in my weightloss, no doubt you noticed. You could too. We could start a family and live happily together again.” Jake couldn’t keep his face straight or respectful.

“Why am I struggling to remember what that was like?” he said rudely. “Marcella. We are certainly not getting together again. I never wanted a family. You don’t actually like me. And frankly, I don’t really like you.” Jake glanced at his phone to see it blowing up with fire emojis. He picked up the second donut, catching Marcella’s shocked look upon noticing.

“Jake, you don’t have the privilege to be so choosy. You are eating another donut right now. Do you not hear how ridiculous that is? I just don’t know how you think you will find anybody who puts up with your gross habits.” Jake rubbed at his belly, just thinking about how Alexis would more than put up with him and his habits.

“Marcella. Just stop. It’s over. Seriously. What is it you really want so that you can leave me alone?” He stuffed half of the donut in his mouth. She appeared disgusted, but was thinking.

“If I can get the boat, the Porsche, and the little motorcycle you got and never rode, I’ll sign whatever I have to now.” Jake stared back shocked. Alexis looked on, unsure if it was an insane request.

“That’s it? All this and that’s your big ask?” Both the lawyers waited with bated breath.

“And I want to keep all the jewelry!” Jake scoffed, knowing that gifts weren’t on the table for his taking anyway. Jake laughed.

“All yours.” Jake’s lawyer, Johnathan, did not skip a beat, jumping in before anyone had the chance to change their mind. He reported that he would write up the newest proposal and send it over to Marcella’s lawyer for review and signing. Jake ended the call just as Marcella tried to wish him well.

“Oh my god!” Alexis squealed. She ran over and hugged Jake. “That is really good news right?”

“The absolute best. This time tomorrow, I’ll be officially single. Man!” Jake finished the bit of donut he had left.

"She was totally unreal. So shady and yet clearly hoping to stay with you." Alexis ran her hands down his jacket, her most loved enemy. "She was really harsh about all the weight stuff huh?" She offered sympathetically. He shrugged, and played in her hair. He didn't care to dwell on her too much, but was interested in Lexi's perspective. "Did you really outgrow your ring," she asked mischievously.

"That did happen. But I'll say she already tried ordering it smaller because she was really banking on my big weight-loss kicking off. It did not." Alexis laughed heartily. She sighed only to laugh again and attempt to settle herself with another sigh.

"I have some work to get to. I sort of played hookie yesterday," she said with a wink. "I know you adore working," she said sincerely.

"I should too. Maybe we'll get a late lunch?"

"Sounds great."

Ch 11

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yourpinkestaunt · 1 year

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some 2023 games i'd like to play!

made this list on twitter, but better safe than sorry so-

Granblue Fantasy: Relink! since i have been a fan of granblue's chara design for a while, despite only tipping my toe in once upon a time ,:D i even own one of the art books! so definitely will try to get my hands on this when it comes!

youtube

Infinity Nikki! yup you read that right. it seems to be a nikki maker's attempt at a genshin-like game, and i'm. weirdly drawn in. we shall see if 1) it comes out in 2023 2) what reviews say before i can make promises but! crossing my fingers!

youtube

DokeV! another "may or may not come out in 2023" game but! haven't forgotten how charmed i was when i saw the trailer in -21 so! it basically looks pokemon x "relive your childhood via rose-colored glasses", which i am here for.

youtube

Tiny Glade! basically just "go nuts and make a cute enviroment". which is all i need sometimes, so def keeping an eye on it

Blue Protocol! amazon games' attempt at anime mmo. could be anything from a trash fire to good. and as someone who likes to poke at all the free trials for all the mmos; heck yeah we trying this one!

Rift of the NecroDancer! IT'S MORE NECRODANCER, DO I NEED TO SAY MORE!! (except that i'm not sure if it's gonna come out this year-)

Bits and Bops! another rhythm game that looks adore as heck. that's all. that's all it needs to be.

Witchbrook! another game that might not come out this year, but! BUT!! I CAN DREAM OKAY?! it's cute pixel game. where you go to magic school. and i need it in my hands ASAP.

The Plucky Squire! was charmed at first glance! it's a tiny hero's journey through all sorts of things on a child's table, from books to mugs and beyond!

Exhausted Man! a spaghetti-like man, trying to get through his day while tired. it looks cute, and i relate to it too much.

Spirit Swap! i have too many hours on bejeweled 3, so of course cute as heck game with match-3 and good music is gotta be on my list!!!

aaaaand that's it for now! will add more into another post later!

#games to come #games to play #2023 games #or so i hope #pls i am begging #Youtube

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wadixobuhiv · 2 years

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legionofmyth · 2 years

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[102-2] - What is One D&D?

#TTRPG Opinions and Commentary: 🎲 Are YOU as excited about One D&D as we are? There’s only one way to know, watch this video with us and tell us YOUR thoughts! #OneDnD #WotC #DnD #DnD5E #TTRPGFamily #TTRPGCommunity #DnD #OSR

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baphall · 2 years

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End of the Carnival, Start of Something New

My Wild Beyond the Witchlight game has given up the ghost, so now I'm prepping for an Eberron game! #selfpromosaturday #eberronnoob #whatsawarforged

I joined an online game of Wild Beyond the Witchight with players in my locality a few months back. We recently made the switch back to in-person games, and it’s been a little rough. Our DM has decided he wants to take a step back, potentially forever. My harengon archfey tomelock will have to sit and wait in Thither until we maybe pick the game back up. Instead, one of the other players has…

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thegaminggang · 4 years

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Schools and Libraries to Receive Thousands of Free Dungeons & Dragons and Magic: The Gathering Digital Kits

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janumun · 3 years

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The Pirate's Symbol(s): NSFW Alphabet [IkeSen Motonari]

Game: Ikemen Sengoku Pairing: Motonari/Female Reader

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 2.5k

Warnings: stockings fetish, spoilers for Motonari’s ‘condition’, sexual intercourse, mentions of exhibitionism/semi-public sex, (non-sexual) bondage, innuendoes and dirty-talk, masturbation

Author’s Notes: Motonari’s entire self is a joy, his route gave me some much needed, invigorating enemies-to-lovers, and I officially love him! [Totally swiped my heart right up without warning!]

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Motonari is quick — you’d almost say adept — at sweeping off a cloth, or container, placed by your bedside. Although, your touch and whatever fire you generate in between the two of you does not bother him, he does prefer you both cleaner of the mess and fluids when holding you close in his arms, afterwards.

Wiping up the remnants of your passionate and, often vigorous, activities off of quivering thighs he presses apart, in gentle strokes of damp fibers. Movements of the cloth soft enough it doesn’t shock you into over-sensitivity but not soft enough you relax entirely beneath him, because that scarlet gaze is always fixated on you — your body language. And if you give away even an inch, he’s ready and up for round two (or four). [Bless yer stamina, matey!]

If not, he’s still up and happy to listen to his favorite flower-brained woman’s amusing, outrageous tales she narrates in animated conversation. While he whisks up a quick, invigorating meal for her at the kitchen counter, just as she rests her happy self at the table. Garnet gaze seemingly fixated upon the task at hand — spices being tossed, ladle being stirred, eggs whipped to perfection — but his answers are prompt and alert, although still carrying that insouciant edge. Indicating his attention; equal division in between feeding you and hearing you speak.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Motonari is fond of his mouth, and before you, he didn’t think of it as much of an achievement as he believes it now, when your jittery gaze seeks immediate relief (and lust) as soon as it lands upon that obvious smirk.

A single kiss and your thoughts are all but handed over to him on an elaborate platter. Your cheeks color dark and wide; restless eyes tracing across his mouth. Your own parting; pink tongue darting quick in a swipe across plush lips: all of you demanding more of him.

Yes, he is surprisingly (or not), in touch with a far more emotional side: Motonari adores your eyes, although you’re never hearing it from him. Your entire body speaks of honesty but the way he reads your thoughts so easy, in your gaze, there’s quite nothing as exhilarating or confounding as the love he captures in them. That quick, tight knot of your brow, your anger flaring in your eyes or the equally prompt melting, when he appeases you in gentle teases. He’s been so long used to not trusting that a person he sees this clearly through, and sees how she trusts; it’s not an entirely terrible thing to feel.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As mentioned above, the man doesn’t particularly care to leave you a mess post-coitus unless you ask it of him; there is little he’s able to refuse you. So when it does come (…heh) to cumming outside of your pussy, your mouth is a pretty (very pretty too) good substitute for him to ejaculate, without having to think of leaving external stains on you. Your throat clamping, then swallowing, around his orgasm, so he feels that slick slide of saliva and semen around him, as you moan.

Yer pretty darn hot, m’lady.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There are times he descends — quick and furious — into an almost juvenile state of petty jealousy [he realizes the immaturity of it, he just cannot! help! it!] and ends up turning that lust on you, instead.

He’d never actually do it but visualizing — in almost exact, murderous details — how he’d like to drag you into an empty room whenever Kicho gets all up in your face, and fuck you so hard your throat tears through screams lough enough Kicho hears each and every single sound and moan.

Or, clasp your chin in his fingers, whenever Hideyoshi’s a little too close for comfort at an Oda banquet, and kiss you senseless and noisy [pirates crave a flashy exhibition!].

He despises making a show of you to anybody, so that idea only stays in thoughts but also it’s mind-boggling, since it does get him hard on the spot.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, it was only ever through terrible necessity (extremely dire straits) that he — if ever and very sparing — sought casual sex. The occasions hadn’t been plenty and he’d be frighteningly specific about how he wanted to take a woman to bed.

Bathed, no make-up, no perfume, no scented products or jewelry — anything extra that he could accidentally touch and trigger a reaction. A clean, unscented futon he’d provide in a bare room. Any bonds or cloths he could get his hands on (buying his own and discarding immediately after), to tie their limbs, keep their movements limited; Motonari used.

Of course, there’d be the rare prostitute who’d drop immediately after visiting a client, or one who’d perceive his conditions extreme and over-the-top and think they could ‘change his mind’. The moment they’d try and cross the line, he’d fling them off, almost violently, heart racing, sweat marking each inch of exposed skin. Nauseous and barely tapped, before he’d stride out of the room.

He’s also witnessed open and perverse brothels — and corrupt seething dens — where men and women fuck, for all to see, in his line of work, so he’s no stranger to how sex works for others either.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s learning to let go and touch (just you) without the added barrier of gloves and since you so seem fond of his hands on you, Motonari likes any positions that allow his hands to move your body upon his; he isn’t picky.

Palms curved upon your hips so that your ass slaps against his pelvis each time he pulls back, the movements of his cock into and out of your pussy — a place you are both connected and he likes that. Or even when he can spread your thighs wide, press them apart before hooking his hands over your abdomen and just focusing on moving.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a pirate he’s a vortex of a man and slips all over the spectrum. Motonari’s goading is far softened with minimum barbs, when he’s in(side you) in bed with you. More velvet — than leathery — questions, soft smirk-y and probing,: “Ya like that, flower girl?” —as his mouth hovers just close to your ear, nose barely touching and tucking sweat soaked strands away from your temple. Definitely lands firm and midway between too serious and entirely silly. But he’s all focus on you, make no mistake.

He’s still got a filthy mouth on him, but dirty romantic liners are more his style, in bed (he wants you warmed as well as turned on!), in contrast to the complete indecent filth he threatens you with (a good time!) when the two of you are out and about.

“Pipe down, m’lady. The way yer moaning, they’re gonna think I’m fucking ya, right on deck.” Those eyes are burnished rubies; smile wide, crooked and unashamed, as he ducks close. “But maybe ya feel like putting on a show.”

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s clean down below (and silver-haired, yes) — he doesn’t go the ‘complete waxed up, no-hair in sight’ route, but rather prefers keeping his hair short-trimmed and well-groomed.

He’s also kept his pubic hair short and neat, for the rare occasions he does have sex, and an unkempt mass down there would leave him more likely and exposed to his partner’s fluids staying on him. He despises that.

Motonari doesn’t mind blood, dirt and grime on the field, nor the brine of the harsh sea sticking to his skin, but as soon as he’s done with — or in between — jobs, he takes the time to wash and clean himself up thoroughly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

[Also see G=Goofy] Motonari isn’t short with words of love. He isn’t reciting romantic poems but he is quick to let you know, in exact words, how much he loves you — and is loving being inside you — in the moment. Barriers definitely lower themselves — not all down, not completely back up — with this man, in bed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

(As also mentioned in E=Experience) the man, previously, has sought intimacy only and only out of desperate necessity and when his hand is just not enough for him to relieve himself of his lust. Motonari, before you, jacked off, multiple times within a week, sometimes thrice (or more) in a single day. His desires, usually amped, following a particularly unsatisfying battle or raid.

After you, he still does take time off for some self-lovin’ (remember: stamina for daaays, and you’re mostly unable to match him so he makes do), just not as much as he used to, in the past.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You and Motonari share a love for (clothing) imports from the seas beyond. He’s always up for sharing and discussing trade secrets, doling out clothing advice and helping you work out modern clothing from whatever fabrics are available to you.

Stockings might be one of his favorite products.

The fabric feeling absolutely exquisite against his palms when he rounds you close into his grasp, stood in between his spread thighs as he observes and hums beneath you, seated. A harmless joke you make, about a stocking fetish and the ensuing explanation soon after, has him grinning and dragging you down to test the material against his teeth.

“Yer sayin’ I got a thing for yer fancy underclothes? Heh, don’t think so. Seeing you in it just makes me wanna tear it all off, meu docinho de côco.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere you’re afforded privacy; although a little flirting with danger is good and being pinned in between the door and his body. Watching you try and smother your moans into your sleeves, skews that grin wider, that cock harder.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. He’s got a dirty mind, it’ll do the rest of the work when its got its catalyst: you.

Nothing gets you results faster than being honest with Motonari, or expressing your affections (even chaste) for him.

Tell him he looked especially handsome, earlier on a job out: with his hair slicked back and how hard it was for you to have held back from kissing him, on the spot. That you love him—

He’s on you so fast.

“That brain’s just gotta keep sprouting its flowers, huh.” He murmurs, tugging at your chin to swipe his tongue into you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Despite his treatment of you very early on in his route (the collar, the slavery deal), Motonari’s not into putting a collar on a person, romantic or otherwise. Collaring and hearing you call him your Master wouldn’t do much for him, playful or not.

He’s had to live a great chunk of his life as the Beggar Prince; experienced the devastating dregs of human society, including and not limited to being treated as one inferior, and having to watch people around at the very mercy of corrupt lords.

In retrospect, it isn’t something he might take pleasure in, in the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving or receiving, both take some getting used to within the bedroom. He finds the taste of you pleasant, when he withdraws wet digits from inside you and takes a careful swipe of the clear fluid across his skin. And has expressed interest in, and gone down on you several times.

Receiving gets a bit more gentle coax-y and requires reassurances, with Motonari. He doesn’t particularly like seeing his release all over you. Having to work through those barriers of his mind, but once he allows you, he does enjoy the slow kisses, and the soft slide of your mouth against him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His default setting is rough and furious. The two of you are usually frustrated passion by the time you actually get to his bedroom (he likes to prod and poke much too often in public, get you riled) so there’s only one way to go and it’s up. He’s spreading your thighs apart with none too gentle hands as he pushes through and into you, your own hold on him, white knuckled and almost delirious with the way his hips rock into you and his cockhead scraps across your front wall with his onslaught.

At times, however, especially after a high-risk mission; when he’s been close enough to stare Death in the face and survive, he likes to take his time being inside you, just being able to feel you. Once, twice, several times, he’s keeping you beneath, or mounted on top of him, coaxing your hips and your moans.

“Don’t look at me like that, flower girl. I’m alive, ain’t I? Com’ere. I’ll take those tears of yers.”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Definitely! Any time he can have you, or get you close enough in private, you’re going to be fucking each other. He loves those little breathy, moan-laughters you make in half-panic/all arousal, each time he drives up to grind your hips close together, stuffed into a hallway closet.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Semi-public quickies are a thing and the closest to risky as he gets. As mentioned previously, he’s demanding enough over you, he doesn’t like men Kicho touching you, let alone hearing you when you sound like that.

Other kinks, most kinks, he’s down to try with his favorite dirty, flower-brained woman. He does however, draw the line at any kinks that might involve him using harsh, ugly words to degrade you or your body and/or being soiled.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

All I gotta say is: Pirate’s got stamina enough to power his ships through horn alone, over an entire week!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys translate to external objects. Which are always subject to germs, and need to be (excessively) cleaned by his standards, to keep them useful and usable. That’s far much more work than he’s usually willing to commit himself to.

And he has no need of them. Not when you respond plenty to his touch alone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot! Motonari’s brand of filthy talk is polished to leave you damp in between the legs. He’s pulling the nastiest most wonderful innuendoes out of the most mundane of tasks.

“Ya like that old weapon?” He might ask of you, as you admire the carvings upon the handle of one of his clan’s katana. “Didn’t know ya liked the feel of handlin’ a sword between yer hands that much, m’lady.”

Leaving your mind reeling and cheeks flushing before withdrawing with a, “What’re ya cooking in that flower brain of yers? Heh... you’ve got a dirty mind.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Heavy, sensual pants against your ears. His groans and grunts enough to fan the fires of your own arousal, to have you ready to come, from just the sounds that can leave his throat. Motonari doesn’t care to be heard outside your boundaries, but he also doesn’t care to withhold his own sounds of pleasure from you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He almost swears (but will never tell you, in very direct words): the space in between your bare breasts smells almost sweet like flowers. He likes finding his way up and nosing in between your breasts — just skin-to-skin contact at a place he finds you’re at your most fragrant. Suckling and tugging at a nipple draws those moans and your scent more intense, so he nips and teeths around the place often.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

That beautiful cock — with the evidence of just enough silver at the base — is long enough it fits and curves snug into you, without entering into any discomforting places, deep. But he is thick enough, it takes you time (and many times) to not just hold your breath and tighten up around him on reflex, upon entry.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

(Read: S)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re almost always the one falling asleep first. Pirates are used to night raids and this one’s no different. He does prefer watching you sleep, late into the night, once you fall exhausted into slumber.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

#ikesen motonari #ikemen sengoku motonari #ikesen mouri motonari #ikesen motonari smut #ikesen smut #ikemen sengoku smut #ikesen fanfic #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen motonari x reader #ns//fw text #a pickle writes

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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the worst case scenario

okay so this is possibly part 1 of a v v angsty dad!tom fic!!

WARNING: the section under the cut of this is v v v dark with mentions of death and some graphic descriptions of blood etc - please please don't read if any of these things may affect you <3

the part above the cut (the keep reading bit) is completely fluffy (a bit of childbirth but not graphic) so you could read only that first bit as a stand alone if anybody wanted to

dad!tomholland x reader

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“Stop laughing at me!!!” Y/n exclaimed in mock anger before bursting out laughing, knowing she did look pretty ridiculous.

“I can’t help it you just…. You look like an elephant!” Tom cackled from his reclined position lying on the couch, whilst his 8 month pregnant fiancé struggled to get up from her seated position on the floor - where she had spent the last half an hour wrapping presents for her nephews birthday.

“You know a supportive soon to be father would’ve helped me up!” Replying with a scowl that didn’t last long, Y/n finally standing up took the three steps to the couch before uncerimoniously collapsing into it.

Grinning with this absolute sparkle in his eye, Tom leant forward and slid up to Y/n to pull her into his side. His hand came to rest upon her massive bump - at this point it was almost a rule that if he were touching Y/n he also had to be touching the bump. Tom claimed it to be skin to skin contact and although Y/n were pretty sure that didn’t come into effect until after the baby was born, she wasn’t complaining either.

“It’s a shame your stuck with me then huh?” He murmured into the top of Y/n’s head, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head while tracing meaningless patterns on her shirt over the bump. Tom was beyond excited to become a Dad, family had always meant everything to him growing up (and now). There was nothing he wanted more , therefore, to call them a family of three - or more accurately four, not forgetting Tess of course.

“Oh how I regret ever taking up that extra shift at the club” She mused sarcastically, enjoying how he feigned offence in return.

The way the two had met was so incredibly cliche that it was almost painful, whenever anyone asked how they met she always winced internally. But it was their truth, Y/n had been a caddy at the golf course Tom frequented with his brothers. The nature of his ‘reputation’ meant the caddies always had to sign NDA’s to be paired with Tom’s group and the chosen few were those personally recommended by the golf course. She’d always stuck out to him, mainly because she seemed to be biting her tongue as they worked their way round the course. Caddies, also by job description, were not to speak unless spoken to; to be polite and courteous but not chatty. So, given how professioial she was, had taken some convincing for Tom to drag it out why she looked in physical pain whenever they played the 13th hole.

“Look somethings on your mind I can tell! If you hate me I can arrange another caddy I just -“ He followed her march to back from the hole toward the little buggy, ahead of his brothers and Dad who were making small talk from behind.

“FINE! Okay fine.” Reaching the end of her tether, Y/n snapped, whipping her body round to face him. “It’s your grip! On this hole especially you always play the driver with you pinky too far down the shaft, it’s why you always end up in the bunker on the 13th! It’s bloody infuriating because them I’m the one that has to clean the buggy you’ve trampled sand into!”

“Oh…. I-I … I wasn’t expecting that” Tom had spoken quietly, in an unfamiliar tone to Y/n. Over hours she’d spent on the course with them over the months, Y/n had gotten used to his storytelling voice when recounting an insane experience to his family that he’d had in the world of Hollywood; his grumpy voice when he played badly, which was often; and then his gloating voice - most definitely the worst and intolerable. This voice though, was different.

“I-I’m so sorry I have no right, I just-“ She’d out her foot in it …. badly. The young actor was one of the most clubs most prestigious and valued members; and she’d just insulted him. Clearly, she was also about to be in search of another job.

“No no I appreciate your tip… I didn’t even realise you play?” His gracious smile calmed her nerves a little, though Y/n still wrung her hands together as she replied.

“Well we aren’t supposed to talk about it but the club let us employees loose after hours… I practice quite a bit”

“Seeing as you think my game is so shitty, you fancy a round next time?”

Flash forward 3 and half years and a proposal, they were now taking their next massive leaps in the world together. Bringing a whole new life into it. It was bloody terrifying, they both openly admitted. But it was also exciting, new, incredible and… and made them even closer. Now they had to be in each others lives forever, no escaping.

“How many days left?” Craning her neck back on his shoulder so Y/n could meet his brown eyes, she knew the answer would be immediate.

“15 till the due date and the app said they’re the size of a rhubarb but I don’t really know what that means.” He knew more about the pregnancy and birth than she did. He had about a dozen different apps on his phone (including one pointlessly comparing the size of the baby to carrots/ watermelons/ onions), had read 4 different books (which for Tom was the equivalent to reading Newton’s book ‘philisphica Mathematica’.)

Ever since she’d told him about the pregnancy Tom had excelled every expectation Y/n had of him… massively. Without even having a conversation surrounding it, he had explicitly cancelled all major work commitments within 2 months of the due date and until around a year after. He had flown back and fourth across the world so he could pop in and check on you. He’d also set his whole family on becoming your minders when he was away - Y/n wouldn’t have been able to go a day avoiding a Holland (or Osterfield) if she had tried.

The pregnancy thus far hadn’t been the easiest though, hence why Y/n still appreciated to constant worrying texts and calls. During the first trimester the morning sickness had been literal hell; and then you’d had a little bit of a scare with pre-eclampsia during the second. It landed you a 3 day stay in hospital and a very very panicked Tom rushing back from New York on the first possible flight.

So now? Y/n wanted the baby out. She wanted family life as parents. (At which point hopefully Tom would stop comparing the size of your child to an assortment of different fruit and veg)

“You know, you really are going to be the best dad in the world Thomas Stanely Holland.”

“And you Y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n are already a pretty impressive mum.”

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It was 3 o’clock the next morning when Y/n awoke with a sudden groan instinctively rubbing her stomach in an attempt to get them easing up. Now too familiar with Braxton-Hicks contractions, the weird cramping that waxes and wanes but never letting her get any rest - Y/n knew she was in for a long night. With a muted sigh she carefully lifted Tom’s arm off her side, cautious not to disturb him. The poor boy had been up most nights with her, just because baby wasn’t letting her sleep, it didn’t mean Tom wasn’t deserving of rest either.

So making furtive movements at a snails pace, she attempted to tip toe out the room - yet as Tom had pointed out before, she looked almost like an elephant, so everything was relative. Surprisingly though, she was successful, escaping onto the soft cream carpet of their hallway before choosing to venture into the room opposite theirs. It had once been a spare room, though more correctly termed the ‘shit room’ because that’s where all the accumulated shit they got was thrown. Now however, Tom and his brothers had taken on the mammoth task of clearing it out and redecorating - creating the most beautiful nursery one could ever see. Complete with a rocking chair which Y/n made a beeline for, now allowing herself to audible groan at the tight sensation deep inside her.

Normally they would ease after a half an hour or so, yet this time, after what was surely more like an hour and a half they started to…. ramp up. What was a tight pressure sensation quickly became one more forceful volatile and full of pain. She put it off for about 3 or 4 cycles of these, pursing her lips and breathing deeply as she tried to convince herself they’d just simply fizzle away. This couldn’t be the real thing could it? It was too soon - as Tom had said she wasn’t due for another 15 days. It wasn’t happening… was it?

The answer was pretty comprehensively and cohesively given when Y/n tried to stand up, in the hope of walking the ache off, she felt an incredibly tight crunch as her insides seemed to wring themselves together. Oh … and a surge of water soaked her pyjama bottoms.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCKKKK TOMMMM!! TOM-ah shit- MY WATERS!!! TOOOMMMM”The pain had amped up to a very very impressive levels, forcing Y/n to clutch her sides as she kept bending and straightening back up… as if that would help. Her lonesome agony didn’t last long though, a flustered Tom hurtled in the room - his hair sticking up all over the place and although his eyes were puffy from sleep he still had them glued open impressively wide.

“No its-its too- its too early!” In pure disbelief, Tom shook his head staring across at her face, contorted in pain.

“Yeh because-“ She gulped and exhaled in as much of a controlled manner she could through pursed lips; before answering his stupid statement. “Because I can just HOLD IT IN FOR ANOTHER 2 WEEKS SHALL I?” It took a while for Tom to process, looking down at the puddle of clear fluid on the floor and damp patch on her plaid bottoms while it was Y/n’s turn to look upon his it utter disbelief at his stupidity.

“Oh shit shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!” His words grew with increased volume and place whilst he stayed frozen, his arms reaching out lightly toward Y/n without touching her though. “What do we do?!”

He of course had revised repeatedly and extensively what he was supposed to do when this happened - yet in the moment all knowledge and planning evaporated from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for taking the mick of her terrified fiancé though, Y/n was too blinded by pain as she leaned on the dresser.

“Get the-ah FUCKING hell - phone we need to time them and phone the … the-MIDWIFE.” It was hard to direct a frantic and terrified man when one feels as though her insides are collapsing in on themselves.

Tom gulped, nodding shakily, whilst trying to take deep breaths because although he was fucking terrified it wasn’t him that was giving birth. He had to step up now.

It took barely 10 minutes from the midwife picking up to a frantic Tom for her to assess that they needed to get into the hospital asap. During the pregnancy, all of Tom’s rich friends had recommended paying for a private hospital like the ‘Portland hospital’. The idea was it was a much more luxurious and private experience - of course coming with a heavy price tag. For Tom money was not an issue, so he’d suggested to Y/n and met the strongest rejection of all his life. The NHS was by far the only choice in Y/n’s mind - of course it busier, a lot less serene and not as private; but if god forbid something did happen, that was where all the experts and resources were. The idea of being able to pay for better access to healthcare actually repulsed Y/n and everything she stood for… so in short Tom was met with a very blunt refusal.

Once they arrived on the ward, all it took was one look at Y/n’s inflated belly and the way her body was squirming in the wheelchair Tom was pushing, whilst laden with the baby bags they’d had packed and prepared for weeks, for the pair to be rushed into a side room. After an intense 20 minutes of getting Y/n settled, getting her full medical history and inspection of her vagina the hmidwife’s head popped up from between her legs with a kind smile. She explained in a calming and gentle tone that Y/n was 5 cms dilated and had got to that point fast, yet now things looked to be slowing down a bit. With final words of advice of try to relax she left the pair to it.

They both looked at each other, a matching expression of confusion and relative terror blatantly clear in both their eyes. It had them both burst out laughing, if Y/n then scowled at the pain that shot through her side.

“This is really happening huh?” Tom murmured as he rounded the bed to gently run his hands through her sticky hair.

“I don’t know unless you really do want me to postpone their arrival for a short while?” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, although not really able to surpress the chuckle at his finances humour - even if it was at his expense.

“Glad to see you can still be as sarcastic as ever.” He laughed but before she could reply another wave of contractions hit making her instead just scream - grabbing his hand so tightly Tom was certain a bone or two were crushed in the process.

It was another hour or two of the same traumatic sight of watching the women he loved more than anything in the world be in such extreme pain. God knows how his appreciate for his mother grew in that moment - she had had four kids overall, two of them twins! Tom dared to think of the scenes in that room of twin brothers birth. Having to deal with both Sam and Harrys large heads…

Harrison had arrived in the meantime, he was to be the child’s godfather and Y/n was more than happy to have him there - even if it was more of a support to Tom than Y/n. Quite expectantly though, he was just as terrified and useless as Tom - so instead of having one idiot to deal with, the midwives now had double trouble of terrified men.

And yet after another 1 hour or so Y/n was being told to make one final push. Baring down on the gas and air tube, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut together whilst simultaneously contracting every muscle in her body with what little energy she had left. Hearing Tom and Harrisons words of encouragement; the midwifes orders and her own long and continuous scream, Y/n pushed with all she had. It was excruciating and torturous yet she kept going until the most beautiful sound was the only thing left reverberating round the room.

Her babies cry.

Tom looked at the scene in awe, feeling an almost out of body experience as the midwife unfolded from her position leant over the bed looking up to Tom.

“Do you want to cut the cord Dad?” Releasing a breathy laugh, tears collecting in his eyes he looked down at Y/n. She looked a mess - hair flying all over the place; sweaty sheen and a ruined look on her face; panting hard as she caught her breath. But to Tom? Never had he seen her look more beautiful, especially when she managed a small smile, nodding encouragingly at him. So he moved round to the end of the bed as the nurse motioned, while Harrison squeezed Y/n’s shoulder with the proudest look on his face.

It was the first time Tom had ever seen his child. And really, seeing a wrinkly little pink thing covered in all sorts of gunge - it shouldn’t be such a magical moment. But here he was, a single tear escaping over his lower lashes at the sight of them wriggling about. The midwife gave him a second, before gently handing him the medical scissors and directing him as to what to do. Once done, the lady announced the room it was a beautiful baby girl.

The next hour or so was a bit of a blur, the whole situation felt extremely surreal to everyone - but perhaps most to Y/n. Although the baby was premature the doctors had checked and were confident was perfectly healthy, so after both Y/n and Tom having their turn holding her (Tom finally got his real skin to skin time) they brought in a little incubator where she could rest while Y/n was recovering. Due to her prematurity, as a safety net, the doctors did want to keep the baby girl in overnight for observation, which meant the whole party would be staying too.

Y/n loved nothing more than watching Tom and Haz with their baby. The way they delicately cradled her in their strong arms and the way their eyes softened so inexplicably. Y/n swore that had she not just pushed a watermelon sized human out her vagina, the way Tom looked while holding their daughter would make her pregnant all over again.

“I still can’t believe you two created a real life human.” Harrison mused while standing with the baby girl in his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched her sleep soundly.

“To be fair it was mainly Y/n” Tom laughed as he squeezed Y/n’s hand (wincing internally as it hurt his already injured hand - Y/n had an almost death grip)

“Oh no credit where credits due… he was involved for a whole 3 minutes or so.” Harrison snorted and Tom scowled at her, yet her cheeky if exhausted grin instantly erased any annoyance.

“Don’t make sexual jokes in front of our child!” He retorted, Harrison still laughing at his friend. Haz loved Y/n too - she made Tom a better version of himself. And now, she’d made him a dad.

**triggering part starts here

After all the excitement of the early morning it was more than fair to say Y/n was shattered, Tom not doing much better. So after a little bit, Tom joined Y/n on the bed and they instantly fell asleep to the light beeping of their babies heart monitor. Harrison stayed in the arm chair in the corner of the room, wheeling the little incubator right in front of him to just stare at the little girl. He had been texting Tom’s family too, giving them details of when they’d be allowed to come and meet the little one, who had just woken up to all Tom’s frantic texts from the night before.

Eventually though he was ped ousnapt of his happy daze, looking over to the bed and seeing Tom groan as he shifted on the mattress that was technically only spacious enough for one.

“You good mate?” Harrison spoke in a low voice, keen not to disturb either the baby of Y/n - she had earned a bit of peace. Tom just mumbled in response, rubbing his eyes as he sat up before letting out a deeper groan.

“-hat the fuck” Tom lifted up the blanket covering them both as Harrison looked on inquisitively. But then Tom leapt off the bed, started violently shouting Y/n as he shook her in a look of desperation. It was violent and harsh, Harrison was horrified as he immediately stood up in an action to pull Tom off her.

“Tom what are you-“

“Get help Haz.” Tom turned around to look at Haz, only at which point could the blonde haired boy make out why Tom looked so insane. Because his trousers, and the bedsheets that were now not hidden by the blankets, was covered in a red sticky substance. Jaw dropping, Haz slalomed round the incubator to stand at the foot of the bed.

It honestly looked like a horror scene. Y/n’s lower half was completely saturated in a bright red liquid that slowly was creeping further and further through the sheets. Her face looked pale, Haz cursing himself for not noticing earlier and her breathing… it looked so slow it was barely noticeable. The silence was only endured for a few moments, before Tom turned back to violently shaking the dead weight below him yelling her name repeatedly and frantically.

As soon as the alarm was raised more and more staff piled into the room, each one carrying a new level of importance and seniority - instantly taking control of the room and shouting orders. Tom had long since been pulled away from the bed by a nurse, who was trying to speak to him and calm him down, but was completely ignored as he focused on the scene over their shoulder.

“Looking like a primary PP bleed but she’s lost at least 3 pints already…. Somone bleep the aenestists and lets get moving to the OR please!.. We’ll need bloods crossmatch 5 units….”

Tom heard to the controlled sense of urgency in the lead doctors voice and he felt as though his heart was being torn straight from his chest. Harrison took over from the nurse, half restraining - half hugging him as the nurse ushered them completely out the room. Shouting over Tom’s desperate pleas to let the doctors do their thing. He fought hard against Harrison but ultimately his hold was enough to keep him back, the two watching from he corridor as Y/n’s bed was wheeled rapidly out the room - what seemed like at least 12 staff members bustling after it.

Harrison knew it was hopeless to try and talk to Tom, as he paced up and down the ‘relatives room’ the two had been confined to. They didn’t have a clue what was going on, no-one seemed to want to tell them - making the worst case option appear the most likeliest in Harrison’s head. A nurse had said the baby, as yet unnamed, had been taken down the neonatal unit so that it was one thing less for them to worry about ; but refused to say anything about Y/n, saying a doctor would come and explain soon.

It must’ve been 20 mins, even if to the two men it felt like a lifetime, when a round and short, greying man with big black rimmed rectangular glasses entered the room. Tom was too in his own head to even notice, pacing up and down the room while constantly running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his breath in regular time - even if his brain was on overdrive. It took Harrison calling his name twice to make him snap out of it, looking up with desperate pleading eyes to notice the stout man, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Are you Mrs y/L/n’s husband?”

“Fiance”

“I’m Dr Webber the consultant gynaecologist, shall we take a seat sir?” Tom stayed rigid, standing opposite him in an offensive manner.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” At Tom’s cold words, Haz’s breath halted in his chest. It had been what they’d both been thinking, of course, it was natural when you see someone with more blood out their body than inside it. The doctor seemed a little shocked at his frankness, pressing his lips together as he let out a sigh.

“No sir she’s not but she is very very unwell. Please, let’s sit down so we can talk about it because I understand it’s a lot to take in.” It took a couple of movements of Tom stood frozen staring but Dr Webber held firm, waiting until Tom took a seat next to Haz before he moved - drawing a chair from across the room so he could face both men.

“First off I’m sorry you were removed from the room and put in here for so long but these situations are incredibly hard and to get Y/n the best care we needed the whole room.”

“Doctor I just… I just need to know what’s going on.” He couldn’t deal with the state of unknowing, Tom was going insane, he didn’t care for the small talk.

“Sorry right, so what we think happened was your fiancé developed a condition called ‘placental accreta’. In simple terms, a bit of the placenta is stuck in the uterus and causes bleeding.”

“That much bleeding?” Haz couldn’t help himself from butting in, he knew this wasn’t really his place, that he was just being there for Tom. But at the same time that was his godchilds mum, it mattered.

“Honestly? Usually not, Y/n had very severe bleed… So she has been taken in for surgery, where the very talented surgeons are trying patch up the affected blood vessels. I’m afraid at this point that’s all I can really say.”

“So… she’s going to be okay?” It was desperate plea for something that, even if Tom wouldn’t admit, he didn’t really believe - it seemed as if none of the three in the room did.

“It’s not that easy I’m afraid. Assuming the surgeons can stabilise the bleeding and fix it…. with blood loss like she has suffered we… we don’t know what the effects of that will be. We tried to prevent as much damage to her brain and body as possible with transfusing blood into her and it was good that she was in hospital so could get treatment almost immediately…. But I’m afraid it’s simply too early to say. The first hurdle is going to be getting her out of surgery safely, only then can we deal with whatever happens next.”

Tom had so many emotions flashing through his head. He knew the doctor was trying to go slow to make the information a little more digestible but it was all so bloody incomprehensible. So when the greying man asked both men if they had any questions, neither took up his offer. Surely they both would after hours of processing and analysing but for right now? They were stunned into silence.

“Okay sir, now I hope you don’t mind me saying this but it really is important for you to hear. You are now a father, as Y/n is a mother. This situation is never easy but as a first time dad I need you to be aware that now your fiancé can’t be your only priority. We are all here to support you but please, just remember that.”

Harrison was so glad the doctor had said that, it was so completely true - yet Haz knew he didn’t have enough power to have said it to Tom. The whole thing was impossible and at the centre was an innocent, beautiful but totally dependant baby.

“What happens now then?” Haz had to ask on behalf of his friend, who was now completely overwhelmed. Dr Webber sighed, leaning back and rubbing his knees before answering.

“If the surgery is successful it’ll be at a best estimate two hours before we will have news for you , then she will be taken into intensive care where everything else would be assessed and further investigations would happen. You can both stay here or go get food, maybe go down and see the baby in the neonatal ICU? I personally promise that as soon as any of us get any news you will be the first to know.”

He was met with the sort of silence that makes you shiver. Sighing heavily, the doctor rubbed his knees, apparently preparing to leave. “This possibly one of the worst case scenarios that could’ve happened but Y/n is in the best hands and we will do everything for her. If you do think of anything you want clarification on, grab one of the nurses and they’ll come and find me.”

And then he left.

The room was deathly silent. Harrison couldn’t dare to look over at Tom - he knew what he would see and honestly seeing Tom like that would only make it worse. God knows how long they sat in those plastic lined, lightly padded hospital chairs. Both in silence. Just thinking… or more like worrying… or more like dreading. It was Tom who actually broke the silence first, his voice barely audible but still the meaning was crisp and clear.

“I can’t do it Haz” For the first time since the doctor was with them, Harrison looked at Tom, catching him directly in the eye. That hurt… Tom’s eyes looked so, so… hopeless. He knew what his broken friend was saying, but honestly Haz didn’t want to hear it so he did not respond. That didn’t stop Tom though, he continued. “I can’t do it. … I-I can’t be a dad without her… I just can’t.”

What the hell was Harrison supposed to say? There wasn’t really a guidebook to this situation. He was clueless. So, cautiously Harrison just leaned over, wrapping his arms round Tom as he all but collapsed into his friends chest. Tom was sobbing harshly as Harrison looked up at the ageing ceiling tiles, trying to surpress his own emotions because now clearly wasn’t about him.

“You can Tom… you have to.” His friend didn’t respond, well apart from harsh sobs that racked his frame. And so Harrison just let Tom cry, folded awkwardly and uncomfortably over the arm rest of the chairs, occasionally yelling into his chest at the unjustness of the situation.

It wasn’t fair. But it had still happened. And there was still a baby girl by herself downstairs.

//////

is this okay or too much? I won't write another part if generally people think its a bit too dark!!!!

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland angst #angsty

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