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lesbianpepsi · 10 months

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your face is a like a melody, it won't leave my head

pairing: jock!amber freeman x volleyball player!fem!reader

summary: amber can't stop obsessing over a certain volleyball player

words: 2.379k

warnings: amber being a stab enthusiast, swearing, bad writing

authors note: my biggest red flag is giving all my fics long ass lana del rey lyrics as titles 😕🚩

Woodsboro High was like any other basic American high school. It had its popular kids, nerds, and of course the jocks. But one thing that separated Woodsboro from all the other schools was the jocks, more specifically the star jock player; Amber Freeman.

Not a sleazy guy named Jason Jackson but a girl named Amber Freeman.

She was absolutely notorious for her massive parties, how good she was at football and how stupidly attractive and athletic she was.

Everyone was fawning over her good looks and obnoxious attitude; well almost everyone.

You were the star of the volleyball team, the one who worked the hardest to gain the title of captain and went to every single practice to come out of it sweating like a pig.

You were the one in five hundred who did not like Amber Freeman.

Her cocky behaviour and rude attitude to students and some teachers who didn't deserve it made you go red with rage.

The feeling was heavily reciprocated as Amber made it very clear she did not like you.

"Accidentally" kicking her ball in your direction at lunch every time, snarky comments whenever she saw you and mistakenly using your locker to keep her things when she needed to change into her football gear.

It was anything but fun to deal with.

After a particularly rough practice session after school, you had to stay behind to clean everything up while your teammates headed towards the changing room to get their stuff and leave. Your oh so lovely coach didn't bother to help either, she simply threw the keys to lock the gymnasium at you and told you to lock up.

With a tired sigh you began rounding up all the volleyballs into a large black bag, throwing one in after the other. As you were about halfway done the doors opened, you sighed in relief as you hoped it was maybe your best friend Rosa had decided to help you clear up.

Grabbing a ball you turned to look at the doors, smiling widely before it quickly faded away when your eyes landed on who it was.

Amber Freeman stood there with a smug smile as she headed towards your direction, she was wearing her own jersey which told you she had just finished her own practice.

The jersey was the school's colours navy and yellow with the mascot being a panther, the front of Amber's jersey showing her signature number '96'.

The colour scheme was the same as your volleyball outfit; your long sleeved navy shirt with some stripes of yellow on it accompanied with short navy shorts that matched Amber's navy jersey and tight yellow slotted waist pants.

"What are you doing here, Freeman?" You grumbled as you stuffed a ball more roughly than necessary into the large bag.

Amber chuckled as she stood in front of you. "Coach didn't like my apparent 'arrogant' behaviour in practice so she said I gotta help the volleyball team clear up." She explained with a light rasp to her tone, something that you couldn't help but find hot annoying.

You scoffed as you picked up another ball off of the ground, dropping it into the half full bag. "Amber Freeman being arrogant, how shocking." You retorted, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you glanced at Amber.

The dark haired girl still had that smug grin that you wanted to desperately wipe off of her face. "Someone's grumpy, are you annoyed that you and your girl broke up?"

Your jaw clenched as you averted her gaze, focusing your attention back on the balls on the floor, much more aggressively than necessary shoving them into the bag.

"Fuck off, Amber. That's none of your business." Amber let out a laugh as she snatched the bag from your grip, opening it wider as she smiled at you.

Sceptical, you glared at her before you picked up three balls off the floor and dropped them in, the entire process being much faster with Amber holding the bag.

After a small period of silence much to your displeasure Amber broke it.

"Is it true you broke up with Neve 'cause she said she wanted to fuck me?"

You froze as your grip on the final ball tightened as you glared at her. You honestly thought she couldn't be any more of a bitch but here she was, in all her glory being a massive bitch.

"If Neve wants to make the mistake of fucking you then that's her and yours business, not mine." You replied, rubbing your thumb against the ball. "Well don't you worry baby cakes, I wouldn't sleep with her anyway." Amber asserted with a smirk, giving you a wink as she did so.

Your ears burned at her weirdly cute stupid nickname, your grip tightening even further.

Before even thinking you threw the ball weakly at Amber's face, resulting with her letting out a pained whine as the ball swiftly dropped into the bag. You grinned - mostly satisfied at the fact the ball dropped back into the bag- as you retrieved the full bag from her clutches.

"Whoops." You apologised as you tightened the top of the bag with the string, throwing it over your shoulder.

Amber rolled her eyes at your fake apology as she frowned like a hurt child, rubbing at her forehead where the ball hit.

"You're not funny." She grumbled out, moving her arms to cross them over her chest.

You narrowed your eyes at her with a smirk of your own. "I might not be funny but at least I'm not a reddit user."

Amber eyes widened in shock for a split second at your words, that only made your smirk grow even larger. She tilted her head to the side soon after, acting confused but you knew the truth.

"What are you even talking about?" She questioned. You stifled a laugh at fake confusion, you were positive Amber Freeman would not make a good actress.

"Does stumachersknife69 ring any bells, Freeman?" The jock averted your piercing eyes with a cough, finding a new interest on the floor. "I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbled.

You snorted a laugh as you nodded your head. "Sure you don't. Maybe I'll just have to ask Tara." You quipped making your voice sound more flirty at the end knowing how Amber would react to it.

Everyone in Woodsboro knew not to try to play any games with Tara Carpenter, Amber Freemans best friend. The football player was very protective over the smaller girl.

Amber's dark eyes glanced back at yours instantly at yours words, a glare on her face as she straightened her posture.

"The fucks that's supposed to mean?" She asked in an accusative manner. You shrugged your shoulders innocently as you smiled at her. "Well, you did say I was grumpy, so maybe I should start dating again. Tara's quite pretty, beautiful even and so sweet. What's not to like?"

"Like hell I'd let you go on a date with Tara." Amber said gruffly, her jaw clenching as your fake smile widened even further, knowing it would rile her up even more.

With a dry laugh you asked her: "Are you her personal guard dog or something?" your smiling becoming real at how annoyed Amber got.

"No, I just don't want her hanging out with douchebags like yourself." She cursed back. You watched her carefully as she took a step closer to you, glaring at you the entire time.

"How am I a douchebag? I've literally had like three girlfriends in my entire life and actually treated them with respect unlike you." You retorted with cockiness that faded once you noticed how lame what you just said sounded.

Thankfully Amber paid no mind to the fact you only had three girlfriends as her anger fizzled over. "Excuse fucking me? Are you saying I don't respect the people I go out with or something?"

You snorted a laugh as you stared at her in disbelief. Amber was the literal biggest player in the school, of course she barely cared about the girls she slept with. "You fuck 'em and leave 'em on the very same day without warning, that's kinda of a douchebag thing to do."

The jock stool another step closer until the point she was in your personal space, breathing heavily as she gazed into your eyes. "Oh shut the fuck up." She growled, the air around you suddenly starting to feel much warmer.

You didn’t wait a second to think of a reply before two words appeared on the tip of your tongue, escaping before you could do anything about it.

“Make me." You challenged with a smirk.

Amber opened her mouth to say something but faltered at the last second, shutting her mouth. The dark haired girl cocked her head to the side with raised eyebrows. “What did you just say?” She asked you in a low voice.

Your eyes flickered down to her pink lips before back to her dark eyes, licking at your own lips.

“I said make me.”

The football player didn't waste another second before her lips were on yours, capturing your lips eagerly as one of her hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer.

The bag full of volleyball balls had dropped from your shoulder to the ground, the impact making it reopen as all of the balls escaped with a roll.

Amber nor you paid any attention to it.

Your own arms wrapped around her waist as you pulled her even impossibly closer as you kissed her back just as fiercely.

The dark haired girl faintly tasted like raspberry apple, a taste you had never found so addictive and delicious until now.

Your heart beating faster than it had all of practice at the feeling of Amber Freeman’s soft lips on your own. Shutting your eyes it was as if you’d gotten much more sensitive, the feeling of the butterflies in your stomach intensifying.

Amber’s tongue professionally slided along your bottom lip as she begged for entrance. You whined pathetically loud at the feeling as you quickly went to complied to her request, soon after

Amber greedily shoved her tongue inside your mouth.

Your hands gripped at her jersey; your knees started to feel weak as her tongue explored your mouth.

The jock’s other hand held your waist with firmity, her thumb gently moving up and down your waist.

You couldn't bring yourself to pull away from Amber’s addictive soft lips, no matter how much your lungs begged you for oxygen.

Unluckily you didn't get much of a choice when you’d pull away when you heard a booming voice.

“Yo! Freeman where you at?”

You recognised the voice as Chad Meeks Martin’s voice, the second most popular footballer player at Woodsboro.

Amber hurriedly pulled away from you, breathing heavily as she still held you. It took you a moment or two to open your eyes, your breathing as erratic as Amber’s.

It definitely didn't calm down when the first thing you saw was Amber’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her signature smirk toying at her lips.

Your eyes locked with hers as you loosened your grip on her jersey, swallowing dryly.

You could feel the jock’s fingers playing with your hair as she leaned closer, her mouth hovering over your ear.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Y/n.” Amber whispered out in a sultry tone, kissing your cheek as she pulled away.

Before you could argue Amber's hands dropped from your body as she left without another glance, leaving you alone feeling flustered and as much of a mess you had at the end of practice.

It took you five minutes before you could move, silently repeating your previous actions as you kept the volleyball balls into the black bag. The warmth on your cheeks never leaves.

Once you actually kept everything you headed towards the locker room that was empty. You didn't bother taking a shower and as you decided taking one at home would be easier.

Throwing your backpack over your shoulder you locked the gymnasium before you kept the keys in Mrs Smith and Miss Myers small office near the gymnasium.

As you opened the door you saw Miss Myers inside writing away on her notepad, she jumped at the sudden entrance before she turned to give you a sweet smile.

“Y/n, great to see you, how was your practice?” She asked you in a honey sweet voice, very different to the deafening yells she’d give the football team when they played a game or were practising.

Without a doubt she was the scariest teacher at the school.

You grinned back at her as you nodded your head weakly. “Knackering, one of the hardest we’ve had in a while.”

She barked out a laugh as she threw her notebook to the side. “I can see you're still quite flushed.

That was more Amber's fault than Coach Smith but you didn't dare tell her that. Instead you laughed before you gave her the keys.

“Smiths made you lock up again?” You nodded your head, rolling your eyes as you grinned. “Captain duties apparently.”

She gave you a sly smirk as she took the keys from you, hanging them next to the dozen other keys they had.

“You're as dedicated as my quarterback.” Miss Myers complimented. You tilted your head to the side as you played with the strap of your backpack. “Freeman? I thought she was a hassle in today's practice?”

She laughed as she waved at you dismissively. “Amber is never a hassle in practice, that girl always tries her best and it shows.”

You blinked at her confused; Amber's earlier words replaying in your mind of her saying she had to come and help you clean up.

Had Amber lied to you to just see you?

Shaking your head weakly you smiled at Miss Myers one last time as you took a step back. “I'll see you tomorrow, Miss.”

“See you, Y/n, get home safely.” She replied with a wave of her hand, you waved back before you turned on your heel, exiting the building.

Amber Freeman’s irresistible smirk all you could think of as you headed back home.

#amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x fem reader #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman x you #amber freeman #jock!amber freeman #my fanfic stuff #fluff #fic request #mikey madison #mikey madison x reader

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sc0tters · 9 months

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Past Meets Present | Alex Turcotte & Trevor Zegras

summary: a horny night with your boyfriend in the club bathroom gets interrupted when your ex fuck buddy walks in.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature scenes, p in v, threesome, sex in semi-public place, use of the name slut once, oral (male and fem receiving!)

word count: 2.70k

authors note: I’ve never written a threesome before in my life so if it’s shit I’m sorry. I hope I did the request justice though because it was actually really fun to write! Took me the whole day but it was definitely worth it.

Trouble always seemed to find its way back into your life.

The latest attempt it made was in the form of Trevor Fucking Zegras. It entailed of four months with great, no fabulous, sex and the instant plus one to all events without any questions. The best part about it was that there was never a title that either of you attached to it. Everything came crashing down though when Trevor decided that the exclusive deal that you two had made by locking lips with some girl at the bar one night when you were running late.

As you ran out of the bar pissed of beyond belief you bumped into Alex. Well actually you collided with his chest and just like in the movies when you landed with your ass on the sidewalk Alex was there to pick up your pieces.

Within two months of knowing him he asked you out and of course you said yes because you liked how relaxing he was to have around. Trevor hadn't been in your mind since that night at the bar.

Sex with Alex was also great, sure he wasn't as rough as Trevor, the orgasms didn't make you cry the way his could. But it never crossed your mind, or at least that's what you told yourself.

So when you landed up in a club celebrating Jacks birthday you finally got to learn that the man you thought you'd never see again was actually best friends with your boyfriend of six months.

Alex seemed to be obvious to it though as all he cared about was pulling you into the bathroom because he couldn't cope with the sight of you in your pretty little short red dress "baby," you moaned as your fingers wrapped around the counter that was under you.

He loved the taste of your cherry lipgloss as he forced his tongue further down your throat "fuck you look so pretty tonight," Alex groaned as he locked eyes with you.

That sight of your swollen lips as you let them form a pout watching him lick his own "couldn't keep my hands to myself," he murmured as he leaned back down to kiss you when you were both unaware that the bathroom door opened "princess doesn't usually like it when you get all needy." Trevor's confession struck you both as it caused you to snap your heads in his direction.

His smirk was prevalent on his face as he leaned up against the frame of the bathroom door. You couldn't help but turn a shade of pink as you could see Alex beginning to figure it out "you two know each other?" He asked keeping his attention on you.

All you could do was nod as you let out a sigh "we were friends," you explained leaving out the key details "you went crazy for my cock a few too many times to just be my friend." Trevor clicked his tongue as he shut the bathroom door this time making sure that he locked it.

You buried your face in Alex's chest as it turned a bright shade of pink "who's better baby?" The question fell from Alex's lips as he was curious.

It wasn't every day that you could ask a girl who she thought was better between you and your friend so Alex truly wasn't going to pass on this opportunity.

The hesitancy in your voice only made Trevor's smirk go wider "you my love of course," you nodded to yourself as you pulled Alex closer to you so that you could kiss him once more.

But Alex stopped you when Trevor started talking "you know that girls who lie don't get rewarded at the end of the night." The Ducks players words rung through your head as edging your through the night was one on Trevor's favourite things to do.

The Kings player ran his finger over your lip "baby you know how you always said you wanted to try something new?" He asked as the idea came to his mind.

Conversations had been shared between the two of you talking about what you each would and would not try in the bedroom, threesome was on each other your green light lists "you sure Al?" You cocked your head not wanting to force him into anything as that was always something that you seemed more fond of than him.

Alex nodded as his thumb drew circles just below the end of your dress "only if you're comfortable with it?" Trevor began to feel awkward as he was just watching you two talk "I wanna see who is better at making my girl come." Alex blurted out the second you gave him the nod to show you were down with it.

Trevor wasn't used to sharing you with anyone, he never wanted to so when Alex proposed that he knew that bragging rights of some sort would be on the table "who starts then?" Trevor rubbed his hands together not seeing the smirk on your face.

As both boys were the same condom size you took the spare one from Alex's wallet "like to have his come dripping out of me at the end of the night." The comment was a total lie but Trevor didn't know that. The younger of the two boys had always wanted to fuck you raw but when you said no each time he asked he respected your answer so the idea of hearing that you were letting Alex come inside of you had Trevor oozing with anger.

You could hear the groan come from your boyfriends lips at the idea of what you were proposing "you sure your boyfriend won't mind me having you first?" Trevor cocked his head as he saw Alex frown behind you "gotta save the best for last," you shrugged clearly pissing him off now.

It truly shouldn't have been this amusing but you couldn't help but smirk at Trevor's pissed off state "don't be jealous just because he knows how to fuck me right Trevvy," you cooed as you placed your hand on his shoulder.

The boy rolled his eyes "when I lift your little dress up I'm gonna see that you're soaked," he had seen the way your thighs stuck together and that was a clear sign that you were ready for a good fuck "not for you." There was amusement in your voice as you crossed your arms.

Trevor unbuckled his belt and the sight was enough to make your mouth water "somethings don't change my desperate little princess," he pointed out as his hand cupped your cheek "gonna make you feel so good." His voice was a murmur before his lips landed on yours.

The kiss was needy as your tongues were in this fight that only ended when Alex let out a groan "didn't expect this all to be that hot." He confessed as his cheeks turned red when you smiled at him.

An idea went off in Trevor's head "go suck your boyfriend off for me princess," his request was met with a quick nod from you "hi baby," you grinned as you pecked Alex's lips.

Your boyfriend always melted into your touch as your fingers danced over the waist band of his shorts “don’t be a tease,” Alex warned as he dug his fingers into your hips “since you asked so nicely,” you grinned as you pressed a kiss to his neck totally unaware of how Trevor moved closer to you.

Just as you were about to crouch down to pull Alex’s boxers down Trevor kept your ass in the air “you’ve kept him waiting for too long,” The Ducks player pointed out as he watched your hand wrap around your boyfriends cock.

You smirked as you kissed the tip of Alex’s cock before you wrapped your lips around it making sure that you took as much of him in your mouth as you could before you let out a gurgled moan.

Trevor’s fingers lifted up your dress “god Alex your little princess here is soaked,” he announced as he was met with the sight of the wet patch on your thong.

Alex groaned as he wrapped his hand in your hair “she’s my little horny slut.” The name made you squeeze your pussy around nothing and you knew Trevor had seen it as he had pulled your panties down.

It wasn’t often that you actually felt excited to be trying something new but here you were weak in the knees at the thought of getting fucked by two guys “you ready to get fucked princess?” Trevor’s usual nickname for you made you nod as your muttered yes came out whilst you swirled your tongue around Alex’s cock.

The younger boys fingers went to your slit as he teased your slit “missed this,” Trevor mumbled as he rolled the condom over his cock before he slowly pushed himself into your core.

He gasped as his hands went to your waist as he slowly continued to rock himself into you as you adjusted to his size “you’re liking this aren’t you?” The Ducks player cooed as he heard you groan causing Alex to shudder.

Alex was surprised he hadn’t let out a whimper yet as you always knew how to suck him off just right “always been so good at this,” he mumbled as his grip tightened over your hair when you locked eyes with him.

That was what Trevor honestly loved most about you, it was your ability to tease the boy you were sucking off even though he was meant to be the one in charge “fuck her face,” Trevor blurted out as he threw his head back when your pussy clenched around him.

Your pussy was literal heavy for anyone lucky enough to come across “you okay with that baby?” Alex asked as his hand cupped your jaw.

When you nodded it finally gave him the green light as he began to move his hips as they met your face. Your nose brushed against his stomach. In your own there was a coil that was quickly growing tighter by the second. “This little princess is getting close.” Trevor smiled as your gurgled throaty noises let a moan slip out.

His hand went to your clit as he didn’t know how much longer he could last.

Alex on the other hand only had seconds let as your throat had him close to collapsing “you feel so good,” he pointed out as his thrusts began to get staggered when you tilted your head upwards to let his cock go further down your throat “shit shit shit!” Alex repeated as his come shot ropes down your throat.

He lifted your head up so you were now standing upright “want to be a good girl and swallow for me?” The Kings player asked as his thumb wiped the rest of his release that had fallen out of your mouth so that he could push it back in.

You nodded as you let the salty liquid slide down your throat before you stuck your tongue out “always been such a good little listener.” Trevor cooed as his pace on your clit increased “I’m gonna come!” The sentence fell from your lips as your hands handed on Alex’s shoulders as you pulled into a kiss trying to keep the moan from falling out of your lips.

Alex always liked the taste of himself on your tongue as he groaned letting his hands come forward to squeeze your breasts.

Trevor in the other hand was morning when your pussy squeezed his cock as your core began to throb “you’ve still got it.” He cooed as his thumb didn’t let up on your clit even after he slid out of you once he came “Trevvy no.” Your face scrunched up as you tried to pull away from his hand.

The Kings player smiled when you sent him a pout “got faith in you baby,” he murmured as he hooked his fingers under your chin so that he could kiss you.

Somehow the taste of your cherry lipgloss was still on your lips “you’re so pretty baby.” Alex let out a chuckle as he kissed you once more.

Trevor watched as your legs began to buckle “hold her waist,” he pointed to Alex who just listened.

His head moved to your neck as he began sucking at it “god you’re hot,” the older boy smiled as his hand rubbed over your lips.

For the second time tonight you has come as your release came running down legs “think it’s about time you sit down.” Alex pointed out as you nodded. He picked you up before he put you on the counter “think you have one more in you?” He asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

The Ducks player clicked at his tongue “she can last all night.” Your eyes went wide as you remembered back to what he referred to as fun nights of edging.

Your boyfriend picked up on your reaction as it caused him to kiss down your neck “look at the miss you’ve made,” Alex smiled as he crouched down “you’re looking so sweet tonight.” He kissed at your thighs as he lifted up your dress when he tucked your dress behind you.

His tongue lay flat against your slit as your hand went to his hair “come here,” Trevor smiled as he put his hand behind your neck as he kissed you.

You had to admit that you missed the taste of his whiskey on your tongue, Alex was always a beer drinker so you didn’t get that taste anymore “missed your pretty lips,” the younger boy confessed as you let out a moan feeling Alex suck your clit.

That sound bounced off the walls of the bathroom, your boyfriend had to to admit that the way you kept on looking down at him when Trevor’s lips moved away from your own as his own markings on your body mixed with Alex’s.

It was like even though Trevor was there you still didn’t care especially not when Alex began to finger you whilst not letting his tongue slow down on your clit “please don’t stop,” you begged as you continued to grind your hips against his face.

Trevor forced your face back to face his as he also grew jealous “you make such pretty noises don’t ya?” He tapped your lips as he began to kiss you again. Now the Ducks player wouldn’t admit it but he began to miss what he had with you, he wasn’t a sentimental guy but the way your head fell backwards as your eyes screwed shut feeling your boyfriend take you closer to your high it made him miss you in ways he shouldn’t have.

Your thighs began to squeeze around Alex’s head as you knew you weren’t going to last any longer “keep doing what you do best baby.” You cooed as you encouraged Alex’s actions even further.

The younger boy smiled when your head dropped onto his shoulder as his hand began to tease your nipple over the fabric of your dress “being such a good girl princess,” Trevor’s praise brought you to your third and final orgasm of the night as your face scrunched up in pleasure.

You saw stars and only really recovered when Alex stood up leaving your pussy “always tasting so sweet,” he cooed as both boys laughed at your dazed state.

They smiled as you forced your head up so you could look at him “who won baby?” Both boys didn’t take their eyes off of you as you huffed “there was a competition?” You asked making them both laugh once more.

Your fucked out state seemed to turn your brain into mush “I think I should get you home,” Alex sighed as he helped you pull your panties back up before he wrapped his arms around your waist so he could help you walk.

Just before you unlocked the door Alex turned around to look at Trevor “we’ll call you.” He announced as you nodded in agreement.

Maybe this wasn’t meant to be a one and done thing.

#super smut Thursday #hockey smut #nhl smut #Alex Turcotte smut #trevor zegras smut #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras oneshot #trevor zegras imagine #alex turcotte #Alex Turcotte imagines #amber writes fics

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2goldendarkness · 8 days

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I usually reblog, rather than make my own posts, but seeing everyone in the gaze community deal with their grief by writing things down has given me some courage to do the same. I hope it will help me in my grieving process and i hope to help everyone who does relate to what i write. So this will be my farewell letter.

Dear Reita,

I got the news seven days too late, like how it usually is for me coming into a fandom.

I became a fan about 8 years ago, i was doing a creative education as a designer, listening to random music on Youtube with autoplay. Suddenly i found Red, the first song that got me into the Gazette, i was glued to my screen and intrigued with the looks of all members. But why the hell was that one guy wearing a band around his nose? I needed to get into it. So i did.

The gazette then became my first and favorite Visual kei band, i’ve been trough a lot in my life and whenever hardship struck me, there was always an interview that would make me laugh. When i had boring days in school we even played a game, my friends would ask me “why is he covering his nose?” And i would make up the weirdest stories on the spot. That resulted in some charms with titles like ‘reita and the smelly drummer.’ And ‘reita the drugs dealer.’ It varied from poking fun and making up the stupidest thing, to making you some cool guy who fought bad guys. It would always make us laugh, even though, i was making up these stories to friends who weren’t even necessarily in the fandom, because everyone who saw you once, knew your name and so knew who you were.

I wrote fanfiction, many in where you play a big part of the story, not as a love interest, but as a brother of a character based off of me. All because you once said in a radio show that you feel like you’d be a great older brother, hell did i take you up on that one.

I never got to see The Gazette live, i used to curse you all for skipping my country and forcing me to travel for 5 hours to see you all. In 2018 i was almost at that point, but i couldn’t go because of my exams and because i had no friends who wanted to come with me. I always promised myself: one day, i will see them.

It hurts me to realize that day will never come, at least you won’t be there anymore. I accidentally open instagram, and find a grief post written by Hiroto of Alice nine, in the hashtags your name. Shock, that’s the first thing i felt. I must be going crazy. But next up was Miyavi’s post and as i read that it slowly starts downing upon me, my heart sinks to my stomach and a lump forms in my throat as i rush to jrocknews to confirm they aren’t just playing a sick joke.

I start crying like most of the sixth guns, but only after i start reading the members messages. Why am i crying? We’ve lost a talented bass player who inspired so many people to also start making music. The world lost ‘the world’s Reita’ who was always poking fun at the drummer. The bookstores lost their most unexpected romance buyer. Many lost their source of love and joy. I’ve lost my fictional brother.

But most importantly, your actual family lost a loving family member who bought his mother an entire house to repay her for raising him well. The Gazette lost a member. Kai lost his fear during interviews of whatever you are going to say next. Ruki lost being in your personal space no matter how big the dressing room. Aoi lost the person who’s jokes he could laugh the hardest about. Uruha lost his longtime best friend, and now can no longer feel your heart racing before the show, nor can he feel your hand searching for his heart.

I hope everyones feelings reach you, i hope that whichever way you passed, was peaceful and without pain. I hope that whenever it is our time, you come in your mustang to pick everyone up. Usually as a driving instructor i call shotgun, but i’ll leave that space to your close relatives. That way i can’t judge you for turning around while parking, rather than using your mirrors.

Thank you for everything Reita, you will never be forgotten. Once my grief is gone, i promise to remember you with a smile rather than cry. I also promise to be a fan of The Gazette no matter what they decide to do now you’re gone.

And to whomever read my entire message, thank you for reading this unhinged post.

#rip reita #personal #the gazette

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sillygooseassociation · 1 year

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Lucky Charm

Request: Would you write about surprising Ted with lingerie or in one of his shirts or jerseys when he gets home from travelling? 😈

Description: You welcome Ted home from his win against Liverpool, a welcome he will excitedly accept.

Warning: smut, oral (f receiving)

Pairing: Ted Lasso x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Ted’s head snapped up as soon as his chin hit his chest, letting out a squeak as he startles awake. Beard closes his book, using a finger to keep his spot, “What’s up, coach?” Ted rubs his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a deep breath, “Nothin’ coach. Just don’t wanna fall asleep so close to home, y’know?” The right-hand man nods in understanding, opening his book once again as Ted glances out the window, watching the fields turn into buildings as they enter the city.

Jumping a little at the buzz of his phone, Ted scoffs at himself and how tired he feels, though his exhaustion doesn’t last long when he opens his messages.

Y/N 😍❤️: Congrats on your win, Coach Lasso. Hope you’re not too celebrated out xxx [image attached]

Ted checks over his shoulder at lightning speed when he opens the accompanying image, not wanting to withstand any teasing but also not okay with anyone seeing his girl. He knows the photo isn’t the most revealing, all parts are covered, yet he would have to watch pigs fly during a cold day in hell while it rains cats and dogs before he lets any eyes but his own view that sacred photo.

Looking back down once he knows the coast is clear, Ted’s eyes widen as his face reddens and his pants tighten slightly. With the sheets of your shared bed as the background, the posed photo focuses on your body from the neck down, a Richmond jersey hugging your body, stopping just below where your hips meet your bare legs. Ted takes in a deep breath, staring at the expanse of your thighs before tracing back up to the jersey, hardening even more at the knowledge that the back of your jersey has his last name plastered on it.

After an eon of a bouncing leg, a stared-at phone, and a leaking head, Ted, who normally waited for all the players to exit the bus before he did, ran off the vehicle, backpack on his shoulder as he yelled something about an upset stomach and seeing the team on Monday.

One more eon later (each “eon” being about 15 minutes in reality), Ted fished his keys out of his pocket before struggling to get his key in the lock, his hands shaking with excitement. Toeing his shoes off at the door and hanging up his puffer, Ted breathes out a sigh of relief as he heads to the bedroom, eager for release after 30 minutes of his cock leaking and not softening at all.

Opening the door, Ted lets out a low groan at the sight of you in the middle of the bed, hand under the bottom of the jersey as you squeeze your eyes shut, small gasps leaving your lips, “You getting yourself ready for me, beautiful?”

Opening your eyes to see Ted moving towards the bed, discarding his clothes as he nears, a wide smile shows on your face, “I’m always ready for you coach Lasso.” Ted moans in contentment at the title, taking off his pants so he is left in only his underwear, standing at the bottom of the bed. You lift yourself onto your knees, staring at him as you remove your hand, bringing up your glistening fingers so that it is in between you two, “Should I take care of this or would you like to?”

Ted takes one more step forward, knees hitting the side of the mattress as his hand grasps your wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth as he takes your three fingers in his mouth, sucking on them as he maintains eye contact with you before closing his eyes and throwing his head back as he lets out a guttural moan. You take the opportunity to inch closer, throwing yourself into his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso, leaving a kiss on his Adam’s apple. Licking from the base of his neck to below his ear, you breathily give him your congratulations, “Very nice job on your win today, baby.”

Looking back at you, Ted’s eyes are blown with lust as he rakes in the image of you in his jersey, “Thanks, darling. Only happened because of my lucky charm.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he pushes you up the bed, laying you down on your back as he slots himself in between your legs, “Your lucky charm?”

Ted nods affirmatively, lowering himself so he is at eye level with your dripping core that he sees as he pushes the jersey up, eliciting a moan from him, “Yeah, my lucky charm. The love of my life watching me from home while wearing my jersey, and apparently nothing else”. You let out a whine at the combination of his words and his hot breath as he blows on your swollen clit.

“Now let me thank my lucky charm, ‘lright?” Before you can even respond, Ted licks up your slit slowly before latching onto your nub, sucking rhythmically as you let out a string of whines. Moving your hands down to tug at Ted’s hair, you brace your feet on the bed as you thrust up. Chuckling at your eagerness, Ted looks up at you through his hooded eyelids, “Give me a second sweetheart, let me taste ya before I give you what you want.”

You nod desperately, wanting any kind of relief but also anxious to see the throbbing cock that had made a wet spot on the front of Ted’s briefs. Ted curls two of his fingers into you before his tongue follows, lapping up as much of your juice as you can. He groans in delight, his mustache tickling your clit as it is on high alert, pushing you close to the edge. “T-Ted, Imma…” Ted pulls away barely from your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit at the perfect pace, “I know sugar, let go for me. Come all over my mouth, it’s just how I want ya.”

With Ted’s reaffirming words and resumed attack on your core as his thumb continues on your clit, you reach your peak while you let out a loud moan, pulling at Ted’s hair. As you come back down earth, you feel Ted cleaning you up with his tongue, not a single drop left behind as he hums Richmond’s chant to himself.

He pushes himself up so he’s level with your face, emphatically kissing you, bringing a moan from you at the taste of yourself on his lips. You quickly reach down, tugging his briefs down before he wiggles out of them and kicks them to the ground. You grasp him, rubbing your thumb over the tip, “Want you in me, coach.”

Ted groans deeply before nodding, latching onto your neck to leave a mark as he positions his dick right above your entrance. You move to take off the jersey before Ted stops you, grabbing your hands as he puts his weight on his knees, not yet entering you, “Hey there now. Wanna keep my lucky charm just as it is. Gonna fuck you as you wear my name, get a taste of what it’ll be like when I marry ya, okay sweetness?”

Ted was thanking every god above that he didn’t fall asleep on the bus back to Richmond.

#smut smut smut #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso smut #ted lasso x reader smut #jason sudeikis #jsuds

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scarisd3ad · 1 month

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Superstar | football player!Joel miller x popstar!reader

Chapter six - obsessed

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Warnings - mentions of sex, cursing, body image talk, insecurity

Summary - when you find out about a certain football player showing up at your tour you decide to reach out just because of all the dating rumors, but what if thoughs rumors turn into reality?

A/N - it’s finally here, sorry for it being so late! But now that I’ve gotten this out of the way I’m aiming for the first chapter of jump then fall to be out sometime next week!

the next day i wake up with an empty imprint of where ollie was sleeping, joels arms wrapped around me in a comforting hold, and about 5 million notifications. mostly notifications from being tagged in posts and storys but theres some from friends in family too. like one from tara with a screen shot of a tmz artical titled 'popstar y/n l/n photographed with new boyfriend dallas cowboys star football player joel miller on a post game drive' paired with a dramatic open mouthed emoji. i roll my eyes and send back a stfu before dropping my phone back onto the mattress.

i turn hearing the bed frame creak quietly as i admired joel sleeping figure. he was laying on his stomach with one arm lazily wrapped around me. his hair was messy but he still somehow looked flawless. joel stirs as his phone which laid on the night stand ontop of his wireless charger began to ring. it flashed a few times showing off a picture of his mother and him paired with the contact name momma. unfortunately the phone stops ringing before joels able to fully wake up letting him fall back into sleep.

"joel" i whisper as i took my hand that wasnt tucked undernieth me to shake him. he groans eyes not even opening as he hummed a quiet "what?" as his arm that was once lazily wrapped around me pulled me closer. "when's your mom 'sposed to drop the girls off?" i whisper as his head ducked into the crook of my neck pressing lazy kisses to the length of it. "dunno, she has a key. she'll let them in when they get here" his voice is muffled by my neck as he takes a small chunk of neck flesh into his mouth and begins to suck at it. "joel" i giggled as i pushed him away "cant leave marks cant have any of that at any of my shows" he roll his eyes as he presses his lips to mine.

were inturupted by the sound of childlike giggles running up the stairs. "speak of the devil" joel chuckles as he sits up preparing to greet his girls. the door is thrown open revealing sarah and ellie. "daddy!" both squeal as they launched themselves into the bed. "we had pancake for dinner last night!" sarah says as she leans her head agaisnt her fathers chest. both girls excitedly tell their father what they had done with their grandparents the following night as he took turns pressing kisses to each ones forehead. i feel like i dont belong during moments like this, family bonding. im not their mother who can sit back fondly watching with a small smile, im just some stranger laying in their fathers bed. they hardly know me, and i hardly know them. thankfully a call from my mother is able to whisk me away.

"hi mom" i say standing in the bathroom, phone pressed to my ear as i stare into the mirror. "how are you doing?" she asks voice low as if shes trying not to wake someone. "fine...im doing fine" i have another 3 shows in houston next weekend so this weekend and this whole week is just about relaxation and mentally preparing for my next 3 shows which her very physically and mentally demanding sometimes. "your dad saw you on tv last night . he got real excited seein' you" i wish ever older man in his 50's felt like that about me right now. almost every man from the age's of 16 to 70 is pissed off at me cause they 'saw me too much' last night.

i wish i didnt let it get to me but it does. i put up this strong front like no ones able to hurt my feelings but everything they're saying about me does because for some odd reason men think not liking me means theyre allowed to call me a slut and threaten to kill me if i showed up the next game. im just glad joel hasnt seen them yet. "yeah?" i let out an awkward cough "yeah...your dad and i are trying to make it up to houston next weekend dad wants to see you preform again" i smile, though my father never understood one thing about my intrest in music and songwriting he was always my biggest supporter. "really?"

"y/n can you hurry up ive really got to pee!" i hear ellie shout from outside the door as my mother asks "where are you?" i sigh unlocking the door and letting ellie rush in as i rushed out. "Um joels house...but ive gotta go alright? love you."

i walk back into joels bedroom. both girls now gone leaving their father alone to scroll twitter and find out for himself what was the trending hashtag of the day. #fucky/n. how original. how old were they really because this was all really immature coming from men mostly over the age of 20. he's looking down at his phone brows furrowed in a scowl, finger still swiping. he hears my footsteps and looks up letting out a quiet "oh." i sigh arms wrapping around my body "who was that?" he asks. "my mom" i replied as i walked over to the bed and took a seat. "you dont have to go to any of my games again...if you dont want to" he whispers. he head cocks to the side as my brows furrowed. he takes my sense of confusion as an answer "y/n youre getting death threats."

i shrug my shoulders "ive been getting them for the last 5 years. i normally just ignore them." he sighs loudly as if he didnt understand my way of thinking, before changing the subject. "you staying for breakfast?" i shake my head "no. gotta studio session this morning..." joel nods. "can you keep ollie for a few hours? the session is early and im not gonna have enough time to drop him off at home."

im in my car driving down the freeway when i get a call from will. one of the first people i met in the music industry and a very acompished song writer himself. for years now will and i have been writing music together for his albums or mine, sometimes even a duet hear and there.

"you're late" he says voice almost drowned out by the sound of a few people in the back ground. "i know sorry. got held up at joels" i can almost hear the eyeroll through the phone. will wasnt the biggest fan of my past boyfriends. it started with will hating andy, he mustve saw the red flags before i did, then he hated harry because of his reputation of being a 'womanizer', then there was tom who he hated simply because he could practically see through him, and now the tradition has gone onto joel. he doesnt have a reason to hate joel yet but he'll find one eventually, he always does. "i know, i know alright. i'll be there in like 5 minutes okay?"

"alright okay see you in 5" he hangs up the phone leaving me to drive the rest of the way to the studio in silence.

when i get there theres a crowd of paps outside the studio, and wills standing by the door holding it open for me. wills got long floppy brown hair that comes into vague curls at the ends, and a pair of glasses that are almost too big for his face, that sometimes makes him look a bit goofy. his voice is deep with a heavy british accent that somehow doesnt pair well with his face. "morning" he says with a nod as i walked into the studio letting the door slam shut behind me. "got anything prepard?" he asks as we walk down to the studio that we had booked for the day. "a little thought you could me finish the rest." i say as will pushed the door open letting me walk in first before he did.

"alright let me hear it" he says as he takes a seat next to a bunch of sound equipment. i unlock my phone and open the 'voice memo's' app before playing the most recent voice memo from a few nights ago titled 'sparks fly?'

the voice memo starts off with me playing guitar before i start the first lyric "the way you move is like a full on rainstorm, and im a house of card. youre the kind of reckless that should send me running but i kinda know that i wont get far" will nods as he pauses the memo before un pausing it and letting it play the rest through "and you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch. close enough to hope you couldnt see what i was thinking of, drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the side walk, take away the pain. 'cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile. get me with those brown eyes, baby, as the lights go down. give me something that'll haunt me when youre not around. cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile" the memo ends and will looks over at me.

"kay i like it. what were the cords you were playing?" shit, i hadnt written them down like i usually did before studio sessions. "um fuck, i dont know...i think it was a,f,c, and g? maybe those." he picks up his guitar that had be discarded beside him and begins to play almost identically to how i was in the memo. "aright was that end the chorus?" i nod a quiet "mhm."

"alright you got anything else?" i nod before saying "yeah keep on playing" i say and he continues to play his guitar trying to fill in the missing pieces to continue on the instrumental part of the song. "my mind forgets to remind me, youre bad idea. you touch me onces and its, really something. you find that im even better than you imagined i would be. im on guard for the rest of world but with you i know its no good."

we finish off the rest of the song, tweaking some lyrics here and there, and even recording the song before our we decided to head out. I'm in my car driving by 11:30 when i get a call. the caller id shows up on the screen on my dashboard. joel <33. i answer the phone call and joel imediatly starts talking. "hey baby, what you doin'?" he asks, i can hear the sound of him inhaling and puffing out air letting me know he's probably out on his back porch smoking a ciggarette. "driving. whatcha need?" he sighs out "nothin' really. just wanted to know if you want to stay for dinner t'night" i laugh as my car comes to a slow stop at a red light. "yeah sure, what you guys havin' tonight?"

"probably pizza dont feel like cooking. the girls will be happy with that." he says punchuating his sentence with an loud inhale before matching exhale a few seconds later. "so how long you think you'll be?" i hum pondering a bit as i hit the gas following after the car infront of me "maybe 7 minutes? im a few lights away" i say. i hear him slide open his sliding glass door and presumebly walking inside. "alright i'll let you go, rangle up these kids before you get here. see ya in a bit" the sound of the almost piercing beeps as he hangs up fills my ears before my phone begins playing the song it had been playing before joels call.

7 minutes later im pulling up infront of joels house to see him sat on the porch ciggarette hanging from his mouth, while the girls sat on the driveway drawing with chalk. i chose to park on the street so i wouldnt desturb sarah, and ellie. i step out the car shoving my phone into one pocket. "y/n!" sarah leaps up from the pavemet dropping the stick of chalk that was in her hand before running towards me. tiny arms wrap around my body as she hugs me. "are you staying for dinner? daddy ordered pizza" she says excitedly as joel walked up behind her. "go on and play with youre sister babygirl let me and y/n talk alright?" sarah pulls away nodding before running back towards her sister.

"hey sweetheart" he says before pressing a short, but sweet kiss to my lips. "pizza'll be here in bout 10 minutes ordered it right after i hung up with you" he says a he places the ciggarette he had pulled from his lips a few seconds ago back slotting it against his upper and low lip. i nod as i lean into his body "how was youre studio thing" he asks arm wrapping around my waist as we both begin to walk back towards his front porch. "good" i reply simply as he unwraps his arm from around my waist and sits down. somehow being in a relationship with joel miller was so easy i forgot how my life used to be. my entire world now revolved around football games, tours, joel, and his girls that i almost forget that 3 months ago i was still rotting my bed sobbing over the ending of a relationship i thought was going to be forever. the moment i took one step into joels life i was sucked in and hoped to god i'd never be pushed out.

"y/n! can you come draw with us?" sarah asks from her spot on the pavement. i look at joel giving him a look that almosts asks 'is that okay?' he nods saying "go, we'll talk later" i walk over and take a seat next to sarah on the somehow still hot texas pavement. ellies sat across from us, so deep into her drawing that she doesnt even look up to greet me. her knees are scratched up, probably from the pavement, and her fourarms, and hands are covered in a mix of different dusty chalk colors.

"look at my drawing" sarah says pointing at a larger drawing to her right. 4 stick figured people 3 female, one male, and one stick figured cat drawn to the left of the smaller stick figured humans. each one is labled 'daddy', 'y/n', 'sarah', 'ellie', 'ollie'. i almost want to cry at how adorable it is. she smiles up at me so proud of her work. i almost want to take a picture of it, but decide to take one later.

i want to stay here forever, or atleast have something similar to this forever. joel sat puffing on his ciggarette a few inches away, admiring from a far as i interacted with his children. interactions that make him wish he could have met me first. before the barbaras, or annas. interactions that make me wish he was the man i met 7 years ago on a red carpet, wishing i hadnt spent 7 years delusionally praying for a ring from a man who fell less and less in love with me every day.

a car with a bright red and white papa johns logo attached to the top of it pulls into the driveway. its almost like the girls have a routine for pizza nights. they both jump up leaving the chalk on the sidewalk and run into the house squealling "pizza!!" as joel snuffed out his ciggarette against the porch before walking up the young brunnette man with a wad of cash in his hand. i similarly to the girls dicard the chalk on the pavement and walk inside. i wash my hands before meeting the two girls at the table. their father already passing out slices.

"cheese or peperoni ellie?" joel asks, ellie who sat up on her knees in the chair says "both!" he shakes his head "nope you wont eat it all one or none el's pick one" she pouts as her arms cross over her chest "peperoni" she mumbles under her breath as she sit back down on her butt. joel nods before placing a slice of peperoni pizza onto a red plastic plate and sliding it over to her. "cheese" sarah says before her father can even ask her.

my elbows are sat on the table, a piece of cheese pizza half eaten sit infront of me. this all seems like something taken straight out of a movie, family sitting at the table casually talking about each others days. sarah telling her dad about the funny joke her grandfather had told her last night, joel chuckling recalling the same joke being told to him more than 20 years ago when he was her age.

it all felt so sureal, like how could i be apart of this? i met these people less than 3 months ago and im somehow already at family dinners. sometimes it makes me feel insecure, at moments the thought of feeling so left out because this is not my family even though im sat at their family dinner. he's my boyfriend but these are his children not mine, ive known these people for less than 3 months and only been actually dating joel for one of those months.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

three loud sharp knocks that the front door pull me from my thoughts. joel sighs dropping his slice of pizza before getting up mumbling about how he'd 'be right back'. the dining room is silent as we listen to joels hushed voice whispering to whoever is on the other side of the door. sarah stands up slowly walking over to the doorway so she could get a look at whoever was at the door. ellie follows as usual. monkey see monkey do. a loud squel like shout makes me get up just in time to see sarah running to the woman stood at the door. "mommy!"

she looks like sarah, with the similar but tighter dark curls, and similar dark complection. she beautiful. her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and though shes only wearing a tee-shirt and jeans she pulls it off fabulously. though there seems to be not even one wrinkle on her face i can tell she's closer in age to joel than i'll ever be. joels stood at the door uncomfortably as sarah hugs her mother. she's tall and thin, thinner than id ever thought about being, i could tell she was a model not only from her statcure but because i'd seen her only. probably an instagram account though i cant recall what platform i saw her on. "how've you been sarbear?" she asks as she hugs her daughter tightly. "good" sarah giggles as she steps away from her mother. the womans eyes now fall to ellie whos somehow now pushed herself behind me. "hey ellie how have you been" ellie shrugs from behind me.

joel tilts his head almost as if he's saying 'come here' i comply walking over to him with ellie trailing close behind. joel wraps his arm around my waist as the womans eyes fall to me. she looks me up and down about 2 times before smiling "and you must be..." she drags out the 'e' sound of be until i answer back meekly "y/n..im y/n" she nods a genuine smile on her face. "nice to meet you y/n. im barbara but you can just call be barb" i nod smiling. "how long have you two been together?" she asks eyes flicking up to joels "um bout 3 months right honey?" he says fake smile gracing his lips as he leans his head down a bit to press a kiss to my temple. "yeah about that" i say with a forced giggle as i lean into joel a little more. right in this moment my insecurities flood back in realizing i look nothing like her. she's thin, her body is fills out right where it needs to, she has no hip dips, no scars, no stretchmarks. she was perfect. if this was his ex was i not his type or was she not? i feel like i already know the answer to that question.

"barb why are you here?" joel asks, she looks at him and just laughs his words off. "im here to see my daughter" she says with a scoff as both her hands place on her hips. joel rolls his eyes "its not like you wanted to for the last 2 years" i know this is my cue to take the girls and let them have their 'adult conversation' so i pull away from joel and say "common girls lets go play with ollie?" both girl excitedly race up stairs towards joels room, where we had put ollie while we ate.

i sit on the bed with the girls my anxiety, and insecurities festering inside of me as the girls swooned over my cat. would barbara reappearing randomly rekindle their relationship? would i just be left in the dust? i know he was acting like he was annoyed with her downstairs but i bet if she tried he'd get back with her right? he'd probably rather be with the mother of one of his children than me. sarah deserved a perfect family, a mom, a dad, a little sister. she didnt deserve whatever she had right now, and i know joel knew that. and i know he didnt want it to be this way. from what i heard it seemed like she's not around alot and that why he's so uncomfortable with her being here, but if she preposed to start their relationship again i'd bet he'd agree.

her having him would mean she'd stay. even if it wasnt for sarah she'd stay, and sarah would have her mom back for good. there would be no need for some 'pretend mom' anymore. no more revolving door of girlfriends, though i despretly didnt want to be apart of that revolving door.

joel barges into the room, instructing both his daughter to get ready for bed before slamming the door shut behind him. leaving just him and i in the bedroom, alone. "she's staying the night." he grumbles arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me close. i dont ask why feeling as though it none of my buisness. i hum with a small nod. "i was just bout to head out then" i say pressing my head into his shoulder.

our 'sleepovers' if you even can call them that normally only lasted one night maybe till dinner the next night but definetely not a second night. "you're leaving?" i can almost hear the frown on his lips. my brow furrow in confusion, normally he wouldnt budge when i said i was leaving. a few kisses and im normally off but not tonight. his arms instictivly wrap tighter around my waist as if to say 'dont go'. but his ex is here, sarahs mother, wouldnt that be a little awkward?

"thought i'd just go...cause she-she's here. but if you dont want me to leave i can stay" i whisper pressing a few soft kisses to joels exposed neck. "yeah" he mutters with a nod.

barbara is on the couch downstairs, both girls are fast asleep in their beds, and im still awake scrolling mindlessly though barbaras instagram. she's got millions of pictures posted dating all the way back to 2014. she's nice, and i really like her i do but i cant help but feel jealous of her when i get posts from 2015. most with joel who looks so much younger, i can tell she's pregnant in most of them. i cant help but obbsess over every part of her body that doesnt look like mine, wonder if he prefers her body over mine.

i wonder how she was during their relationship. was she good in bed? better than me? did he prefer sleeping with her? did he ever think about her? was she still friends with his friends? did his mom like her better than me? and it doesnt make this any easier on me knowing he's got a kid with her and not with me. she's forever attached to him because of sarah but me im disposable. his children arent my blood, they arent from my womb he can forget me easily if he really wanted too. he cant forget her because he see's her every time he looks at his daughter.

im trying to pick out something for me to hate her, and the only reason ive come up with is cause she's basically abandoned sarah. the only photos posted of sarah was 8 years ago on her birthday july 20th 2015 baby sarah all swadled up being held by barbara who laid in a hospital bed, joel stood next to her admiration and joy gleeming in his eyes. then 2 months later sarah being help by joel with the caption 'favorite people'. then after than nothing radio silent its like the baby disappears. people in the comments mustve thought that too because every comment for the next few months of posts are along the lines of 'wheres the baby?'. im guessing thats when she left.

i know joel loves me, and that im probably going crazy but i cant help but obbsess over her. "you're still awake?" joel slurs, voice deep from sleep. i turn off my phone immediately and turn so im facing him. one of his arms wraps around my waist pulling me closer to him. "cant sleep" i mutter as he pressees open mouthed kisses to my neck and jawline. even as he's practically sucking hickeys into my neck all i can think about is that he's probably done this to her, while she was laying on the same side i was as he whispered quiet 'i love you's into her neck. i cant help it as tears form in my eyes that are quickly blinked back. i cant let him know how insecure i actually am. i dont want him to know how isecure ive gotten in the last few hours because i know theres a chance i could get hurt.

"wha's wrong? youre tense" he says pulling away from me. i freeze staring him in the eyes as his brows curl into a furrow. "whats wrong?" his left hand reaches from my cheek caressing it softly. "nothing" i mutter leaning into his soft touch. he hums questionably like he doesnt believe me but goes onto press his lips against my none the less.

im so obssessed that once joel goes back to sleep i cant help but scroll her page. i dont even know why im so obsessed, its not like im ugly im just not anything like her.

Taglist

@taylarxse @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @ktheunready @camixkami @skysmiller @mars743 @tylrswftss @alyhull @jenna-mcgraw19 @h4teh3x @lexloon @greensabereyesforcevictim @cozylibraries @celebrities-imagines @nezukos-number1fan @abbysgirll @marispunk @hopelessromantic727 @fairyain @joeldjarin

#fanfics #x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou #the last of us show #pedro pascal #sarah miller #ellie williams #taylor swift #travis kelce

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heyitsme1040 · 1 year

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Connected Through Music [s.r]

summary : Steve takes back the hoodie he'd lent you so he can go to the store. When he gets home, he realizes that you forgot something in his pocket and finds your mp3 player. Out of curiosity, Steve looks through your music and finds a playlist titled with his name.

pairings : Steve Rogers/Reader

warnings : None. This is just purely self-indulgent fluff. The nickname sweetheart is used. There's no use of Y/N, pronouns, or descriptors of the reader. If I did miss anything that should be a warning, please let me know.

word count : 1,600

AO3 (x)

a/n : I've been editing a lot of works in progress the past few months. I keep thinking that they aren't long enough to justify being posted, and have come to the realization they're just fine. Instead of stressing myself out with writing these, I need to enjoy writing them again.

“Sweetheart,” Steve called out from your shared room. “Do you need anything from the store? I’m gonna head out soon.”

“Would you mind grabbing me a new pair of earbuds? I don’t like the wireless ones Tony handed out, and my wired ones only work in a certain position,” you replied while walking out of the bathroom.

“No problem. Also, I’m taking this back,” the corners of his mouth turned up while he grabbed the hoodie he’d lent you weeks ago that you kept.

“What? No, don’t steal my hoodie!” You whined.

“Actually, it’s my hoodie,” he chuckled. “I lent you it, and it magically disappeared. I’m merely taking it back.”

You pouted while he pulled the hoodie over his head. As soon as his head reappeared, his eyes softened at the look on your face. He turned to his closet and rummaged around before pulling out a red hoodie.

“Here,” he held the hoodie out to you, “you can steal this one for a while. This one still smells like me.”

You beamed up at him as you took the clothing in your arms and buried your face in it. Inhaling deeply you smelt sandalwood and the ocean. Steve was right, it smelled better to you than the other one had. You were quick to pull it on, loving how soft it felt.

“See? Now we both have a hoodie that smells like the other,” Steve wrapped his arms around you and tucked you into his chest.

You kissed over where you felt his steady heart beat. You quietly groaned as the alarm on your phone went off. With one final squeeze, you made your way out of Steve’s warm embrace.

“I’ve got to go,” you mumbled. “Nat and Wanda wanted me to meet them in the garage so we could go to the mall.”

“Alright lovely. I hope you three have fun,” Steve kissed your forehead. “There’s supposed to be a new bookstore that opened up not too long ago. I meant to tell you when I found out, but I know you’ll want to look around.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you stood on your toes and kissed his cheek. “Be safe at the store.”

“I promise.”

Steve watched as you grabbed your purse and made your way out of the apartment. He changed out of the sweatpants he was wearing and tugged on a pair of jeans. Quickly typing what you asked for from the store onto his phone, he did one final walk through the apartment seeing if there was anything he’d forgotten to add onto the list. Satisfied that everything was written down, he slipped his shoes on and grabbed his wallet and keys.

Finally done picking up the things the two of you needed, Steve slipped his wallet into the pocket of his hoodie and made his way back to the Jeep. Putting the bags in the back and returning his cart Steve began the drive back to the compound. He turned up the radio, listening to whatever station you’d left if on last. Instinctively, he looked to the passenger seat only to find you weren’t there beside him. Steve was grateful you left the radio on your favorite station so he wasn’t entirely without you.

As he pulled up to the security gate, and showed his S.H.I.E.L.D. badge to go through he let his mind wander to you. He hoped you were able to enjoy yourself at the mall. He couldn’t wait to hear about what you got and did.

It doesn’t take long to have everything put away. Steve makes sure to place your earbuds on top of your laptop before putting his wallet on the nightstand. When his hand slips into the pocket, he’s met with the feeling of worn leather and cool metal. He puts his wallet down, then reaches back in to see what else was in his pocket. Wrapping his fingers gently around the slender metal object, he pulls out your mp3 player. Your earbuds are wrapped haphazardly around the light blue object, wire exposed in sections. He shook his head at the state of your earbuds, chuckling at how you’d described them earlier compared to what he was seeing. He carefully unwrapped the wire from your beloved device and threw them away.

He was surprised that you’d forgotten your music player in his hoodie, you usually make sure it was with you. Sure, you had music on your phone, but you preferred your music player. When missions required everyone to shut off their phone and go dark for a period of time, you would still have your music. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he powered on the device to see what songs you’ve been listening to recently.

He smoothly navigates from all of your albums to the playlists you’ve made. He’s shocked that as he scrolls past your driving playlist, your training playlist, and your sleep playlist that he suddenly sees one named after himself. He taps the playlist and feels his chest warm at the playlist. It’s a mixture of songs he’d told you he liked before the war, songs he’d said he liked that you showed him, and songs that just reminded you of him. He walked into your shared living room and connected the mp3 player to the speakers in the room and pressed play.

As the music began to quietly drift its way through your shared home, Steve heard you opening the door.

“Babe! I’m home,” you called out in a huff.

Steve made his way to your voice, finding you in the kitchen. You had some bags on the counter and were putting something in the fridge. Steve stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You quickly leaned back into his chest while closing the fridge.

“How was the store?” You asked, fully relaxing into his hold.

“It was fine. Did you have a good time?” Steve swayed the two of you to the music he could still hear from the other room.

You nodded, turning to face him, “I did, but I’d rather be home with you.”

Steve hummed his agreement while leaning down to capture your lips with his own. “I missed you,too. C’mon I want to hear all about your shopping adventures.”

“I found the bookstore you mentioned. It’s a small one, but really nice. We mainly walked through the stores browsing. I did pick up a few clothes, and a new pair of trainers for the gym. For the most part we just chatted while we got lunch,” you shrugged. “What about you?”

“The store wasn’t as busy as I expected it to be. I picked up what we needed and found some stuff to make my mom’s casserole one night this week. I took our Jeep instead of my bike since we needed some more things than usual, then I came home and put everything away. And when I got home you know what I found?”

“What?” You murmur against his lips, resting your foreheads together.

“You forgot your music player in my hoodie,” he began. “And I couldn’t help but chuckle at how worn your earbuds were. So I got rid of them, after I put your new ones on your laptop. I was curious what you were listening to so I looked. And I happened to find a particular playlist named after me.”

You couldn’t fight the blush that dusted your cheeks, burying your face into his neck. Steve picked you up and set you on the counter. Gently prying your face away from him, he stood between your legs making your eyes meet his.

“Don’t be embarrassed Sweetheart,” he cupped your cheek. “It was sweet. The thought of you being reminded of me while listening to music, you humming along to these songs when I can’t be around. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I know you made it for yourself, but just finding out that I’m on your mind as often as you’re on mine melts my heart. When I was driving back the radio was on that station you love, and I looked over expecting to see you there. You weren’t, but it felt like you were,” you leaned into his palm at the touching words. “How’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

You shook your head while letting a sheepish smile grace your lips, “Well if that’s the case I guess it’s a good thing I got you a surprise.”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have–”

“I know, but I wanted to. I saw it and thought it’d be a good idea for you, too,” you gesture to one of the bags.

Steve plucks it up from the counter and hands it to you. You place one hand over his eyes, making him laugh, and use the other to pull out the small box. You pull your hand away, pleased to see he had them closed. You tugged his hand up and set the box into his hold.

“Okay, open!” You gleefully prompt him.

Steve’s eyes land on the box, and quickly recognizes a silver version of the mp3 player he’d found in his pocket earlier. “Baby, you didn’t have to. Seriously. Thank you, so much,” he tenderly kissed your lips.

“We can both enjoy our music, whenever we want to. Stay connected through it when the other isn’t able to be here,” you gently promised, holding his hand.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you

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fairy-writes · 1 year

Note

Can you do something where it is a Viktor x Reader thing. Either Viktor or the reader think the other didn't get them a Christmas gift and feels rather left out, only to end up fine and happy in the end? Thank you!

THE GIFT

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends (2021)

Pairing(s): Viktor x Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre(s): Fluff

Notes: I’m so sorry this is late. I 100% intended to get this out by Christmas, but now we’re here.

Not my best work, but I hope people enjoy it nonetheless.

If you guys are interested in a Viktor x Reader series I’m doing, go read my story “The Decay of Yesterday”! It’s a project I’m really excited about!

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Snow was falling in thick flakes, sticking to the cobblestone and your hair as you made your way through the streets. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as your feet ached with the cold.

A present was tucked under your arm. You also held bags of groceries for dinner. It was going to be Viktor’s favorite. Because, of course, it would. It was Christmas Eve!

Your shared apartment was quiet when you got home. Minimal Christmas decorations were scattered throughout the place. A small tree with twinkling lights in the corner with little handmade ornaments sparsely placed on the branches. Some pillows of red and green on the sofa in the front room in front of the heater. Two stockings hung above the said heater, one for you, the other for Viktor.

Usually, you had a stocking for Jayce so he could celebrate Christmas with his friends when his family was undoubtedly busy, but this year he was celebrating with Mel. So, his stocking was safely stowed away in the decorations box.

Minimal decorations, just how Viktor preferred it. Your family celebrated with extravagant decor, but you found yourself appreciating his sense of style. He wasn’t a flamboyant man in personality, work ethic, or fashion. He was a simple man who was entertained by and liked simple things.

You shut and locked the door behind you, calling Viktor’s name but receiving no answer. It was to be expected, in all your six years of dating, he was rarely home before you. In fact, you could count on both hands the number of times he was, in fact, home before you were. But you didn’t mind. He was a busy man with big dreams of helping the world with Hextech.

It was something you loved about him.

You set his present under the tree and set about making dinner. Soon, the apartment was filled with the scent of delicious food and even the smell of pastries. You had decided to indulge yourself and your lover with a new sweet milk pastry recipe you had found in the cooking section of your local bookstore.

The recipe book was propped up by a bowl with the salt and pepper shakers keeping the page open while you hummed a tune from the record player in the other room. Viktor had surprised you with it after you first started dating. It was a small thing with buttons and knobs to adjust the speed and volume. He had built it after realizing how much you loved music.

There was a jingling of keys, and the front door opened. You heard your name being called out.

“In here!” You replied and heard the telltale sound of Viktor’s crutch thumping against the floorboards. He appeared around the corner, his work bag on his shoulder, some papers on the verge of spilling out. You smiled affectionately, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek when he got closer. His ears flushed pink, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for an awkward hug.

Even after all this time, he got embarrassed. It was endearing.

Another reason for you to love him.

Viktor cleared his throat and gestured to the bedroom,

“I’m going to put my things down. Is dinner almost ready?” He asked, eyes alight with delight as he read the recipe title. You grinned and gently pushed him toward the bedroom,

“I’m putting the dessert in the oven now. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” You say, and he nods, leaving you to your own devices.

Dinner is filled with aimless chatter. You ask Viktor about his latest project, and he asks about your day. It’s small talk like this that allows you to relax. Viktor made you feel comfortable, and you liked enjoying the little things with your lover.

You had joked with Viktor about Santa Claus as you both got ready for bed, and he had rolled his eyes goodnaturedly, an affectionate smile on his lips. He kissed you goodnight and went to bed without another word.

That was odd.

Normally he was excited to tell you about his projects, but he had barely said a paragraph to you the entire evening.

Had you done something wrong? Or was he hiding something?

You went to bed with a frown, watching Viktor’s sleeping form for a moment before rolling over and looking out the window. Snow fell from the sky like fairies twirling in the night sky as the moon illuminated everything in a soft white.

Christmas Day was almost gloomy. You awoke early to an empty bed, Viktor’s side cold and the covers pulled up neatly.

Where was he?

You got out of bed, leaving the wrinkled bedsheets as they were as you pulled your robe on around you and opened the bedroom door. That was where you found Viktor.

He was pacing in the front room, muttering to himself. His movements were almost frantic; his words hurried as he whispered under his breath.

“Viktor?” You say quietly, and he jumps, whirling to look at you, eyes wide with surprise.

“I—I thought you were still asleep.” He said, and you shrug,

“You weren’t in bed. I got worried.” You reply simply. His shoulders sag, and he looks at his slippered feet. He’s dressed almost identically to you, a robe around his slender shoulders.

“I’m alright, dearest. Just a stressful day yesterday, is all.” He says, and you frown, taking a seat on the loveseat. He joins you.

“What are you stressed about?” You say, and he fiddles with his fingers,

“Hextech.” He says shortly, and you raise an eyebrow,

“I understand. Now what are you really stressed about?” You ask gently, and he looks at you in shock.

“How did you know?” He asks, and you smile,

“We’ve been dating for six years, love. I can tell when you’re stressed about Hextech or something else.”

Viktor leans forward and rubs his face with both hands. You set a hand on his back and gently move your hand up and down, nails gently scratching his shoulders.

“I—I didn’t get you a present.” He says finally, and you tilt your head. Part of you is sad he didn’t think of getting you anything, but the majority of you doesn’t care.

“Viktor, sweetheart, I don’t care about that! Time with you is present enough.” You say, and he shakes his head,

“I was hoping I got you something a bit better.” He finishes, and your frown deepens.

“What do you mean?”

It was then that he reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a little black box. Opening it, he shows you a beautiful gold band inlaid with a small blue gemstone. It’s the same color as the Hextech gemstones. You freeze.

Was he…?

“I know it isn’t the most romantic or—or the best planned, but—” You cut him off,

“Yes.” Viktor looks up from where he had been staring at the ring.

“What?” He asks, confused, and you place your hands over his, covering the piece of jewelry.

“I said yes.” You whisper and see a spark of hope in his eyes that you loved so much.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say. I had a whole speech prepared, and Jayce helped me put it together!” He tries, and you let out a soft laugh,

“A speech doesn’t matter, Viktor. I love you anyway.” You say, and suddenly, you are pulled into a kiss.

And feel the ring get slipped onto your finger.

It’s perfect.

#arcane viktor x you #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x y/n #viktor arcane x y/n #viktor arcane x you #viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane: league of legends #arcane league of legends viktor #viktor arcane league of legends #arcane x reader #fairy writes

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tarrenterror25 · 6 months

Text

Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Title: I Always Find My Way Back To You Chapter: 6 of 9 Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 3K

Summary: You can always count on Ulysses to return to you, but lately you find yourself wanting more. The new dangers in the world don't make the life of an arms dealer any easier and any day could be his last. Running away and living off the grid with the man you love is the dream. Does he share your feelings and can he be convinced to live a life with you?

Tags: MxF, heavily implied sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, Klaue POV, major angst,

Playlist here (May contain explicit material)

Notes: Inspired by “Player of Games” by Grimes! Whew!!! Sorry this took awhile, but thanks for being so patient!

Chapter 6: If I Loved You Any Less

Baby, how can I compare To the adventure out there? Sail away To the cold expanse of space Even love Couldn’t keep you in your place

But can’t you love me like that? Can’t you need me like that?

If I loved him any less I’d make him stay But he has to be the best Player of Games

Ulysses Klaue rises with the sun and he immediately notices that you’re not beside him.

Probably in the living room.

He gets up and dresses with a tired groan. It was a long drive last night and he’s still tired. He has even more traveling to do to return to his current base of operations in South Africa.

Klaue throws on some slacks and a button up. He doesn’t even bother to put on a tie and just hastily tucks in his shirt.

Now, Ulysses Klaue’s occupation requires him to be aware of his surroundings. He always takes into account what’s there.

He also takes into account what is not there.

He finishes getting dressed, grabs his duffel bag, and steps out of the bedroom.

The apartment is quiet. The television is not on, nothing is happening in the kitchen, and there is still no sign of you.

“What the hell,” he mutters.

Something’s not right. Something’s missing.

Klaue sets his bag by the front door and looks around the apartment. Back in the bedroom he takes another look; some of your clothes are gone and in the bathroom, he now sees that there are some toiletries missing. Back out in kitchen, he sees the fridge has been cleared of perishables and the trash bin emptied. A few more of your things are gone such as a journal, phone charger, wallet, and your keys.

He stares at the empty tray on the end table by the front door.

He retrieves his phone from his pocket and dials your number.

It rings and rings, but there’s no answer. Only when he finally hears the automated voice mail message does he notice an envelope on the dining table across the room. He hangs up the phone and hurries over and picks it up.

His name is written on it resting on top of the envelope is a single key and the piece of sea glass he handed to you yesterday.

Klaue opens the envelope and reads the letter:

Uri,

I’m sorry I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. I kissed your cheek while you slept. I’m not there to see you off because I can’t take another day of belonging to you under....our circumstances.

I love you and that’s why I’m saying goodbye.

For good.

I don’t want another day worrying about if you’re dead or alive or if you think of me like I think of you.

It’s better this way. I think. For both of us.

There are instructions on locking the door to the apartment after he leaves and to leave the key under the mat. Your friend, Demi, is coming to collect the key and she is to help pack any things he’s left behind to be taken at a later date.

None of your letter tells him where you’ve gone, only that you’re not here.

It has been an entire month and Klaue has not heard from you since you left him and ended things with a scrap of paper.

He sits at his desk in the Churchill and twirls a small knife absentmindedly in his hand.

After the few days that it took for Klaue to return to South Africa, he tried to call you, text you, but you never responded. He let a week go by thinking you just needed some time to cool off, but you never contacted him.

He stabs the knife into the wood of the desk.

He’s tried calling you everyday after that, but you never answered him. All of his messages were never even marked as read.

And then you changed your number.

It actually stung to hear the automated voice of the woman say that the number he was calling was disconnected.

He plucks the knife out of the wood.

“Boss.”

Klaue looks up to see his right hand man standing in the doorway.

“Got someone here to see you.”

The arms dealer stands and heads downstairs to deal with his guest. Klaue is normally so playful and cheeky with his customers, he likes having some fun and getting under their skin, but lately he’s just irritable.

“Not in your usual mood, Klaue,” the customer, some decorated military man, says smugly. “No jokes today?”

“The only joke is you standing in front of me,” Klaue snaps. “Leave the money and hurry up.”

When all of his business is concluded for the day, Klaue returns to his office and stays up into the night looking for you.

He’s been trying to track you down with any information he has on you, putting to use his history with an old organization he used to run with, but everything comes to a dead end.

He’s typed your name so many times into the search engines. He’s even taken one of your photos you’ve sent him and he’s tried to do a reverse image search. Maybe you posted a picture on some social media or a friend did and he could find you, but nothing came up.

There’s an account Klaue would pay money to that was for you. Typically you’d make withdrawals at the bank or just hand over the account number to cover whatever living expenses you had and Klaue’s checked it as well.

There’s a hefty sum of money in there and he keeps track of the expenses that come out of it: your rent, utilities, phone bill, and so on. But since you disappeared, those have stopped and the amount in the account hasn’t changed.

He checks it every day hoping you take any amount out and then he can track you down, but you don’t. No money has left the account in the past month.

Klaue sits back in his chair and asks himself the question he didn’t think to ask until now:

Why is he looking for you? What does he want?

He doesn’t think he can return your feelings, but why does not having you bother him so much?

Klaue scrolls through the photos of you that he has until he gets to the ones that you took at the beach. You had sent them over while he was driving the two of you back to your apartment.

You look so beautiful and happy. Did he really hurt you that much by not saying those words you wanted to hear?

It’s in these days, spent pacing and thinking, that Klaue realizes he’s always been drawn to you not just physically, but mentally and perhaps emotionally. He recalls how you said you liked spending time with him and he realizes, he’s enjoyed his time with you.

You were not just an escape, not just someone to shack up with, but he really did like being with you. No woman has ever held his attention the way you do and you hardly have to try. Care is a strong word, but thinking back, he knows now that your feelings have always mattered to him. It’s why he gave you trinkets like the sea glass, took silly photos with you, tickled you when he kissed you, and did what he could to hear you laugh and see you smile.

God, your smile.

Klaue puts his phone away. He needs to get some sleep.

After a few more days of continuing his search, he finally makes progress. He’s tracked down your friend, Demi.

He doesn’t know much about her except that she’s close with you. Phone in hand, he stares at the number on the screen.

What am I doing?

He dials the number and waits for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice says.

Klaue is silent. What is he supposed to say? That he’s been trying to get a hold of you for the past month? That he needs to know why you just disappeared without a trace?

“Hellooo?” she says again.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Klaue makes a rather awkward introduction of himself and as to why he’s calling.

Demi sighs. “She said you might call.”

“Is she there?”

“No.”

Trying not to get frustrated, Klaue politely asks Demi as to your whereabouts. She’s reluctant to tell him anything since you instructed her to stay quiet, but she finally cracks and relays to Klaue a phone number.

He quickly scribbles it down on a piece of paper before he hangs up.

Klaue doesn’t dial the number right away.

What will he say to you? That he misses you? Is that what it is?

He runs a hand through his hair and slams his fist down on his desk. He does miss you. He misses the way you talked to him, especially the way you listened to him, and the way you held him.

When he first started seeing you, it was mostly just sex and the way you interacted with him seemed....well, artificial at first. And then you started to dote on him. He thought you were just playing a part, but looking back, he realizes that you really did love him and have for awhile. And he’s been blind to your feelings, taking all of your affection and attention for granted.

Because now he doesn’t have it and he’s restless. He can’t eat, he can’t sleep, and he can’t think straight without you in his life. Klaue refuses to identify the source as his aching heart; all he knows is he’s a different man knowing you’re no longer waiting at your apartment for him, that he won’t have your arms to go to or your body to hold against his.

Maybe he should just forget you, too.

The sun is warm as it shines down on the balcony you’re standing on looking down at the city below. The intricate wrought iron gate lined with florals is a change of pace from the modern glass balcony you used to have at your apartment.

Your apartment.

You don’t stay there anymore.

It was time for a change so you sold as many of your belongings as you could to downsize. You were able to move to a nice quaint European neighborhood and so far you were enjoying it. It’s peaceful and even better, there’s nothing to remind you of...him.

Your days come and go without much fuss. Nothing of notable interest takes place and though it’s a tad boring, it’s allowed you some time to reflect.

Right now you’re sitting at the small table in your room, writing some things down in a journal when your phone rings. Right as you look at the number and think that you don’t recognize it, your finger has already hit the green button and you raise it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

There’s a small sigh and then you hear the familiar accent in that deep voice you love so much. “I always find my way back to you, sweetheart,” Klaue says.

You’re frozen. How did he find you? You should hang up. Right now.

It’s like he can read your mind. “Don’t hang up. Your friend gave me the number,” he explains.

It’s your turn to sigh. “Of course she did.”

Silence.

You don’t know what to say, but you can’t deny the way your heart beats faster at the thought of him tracking you down.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

For a moment you’re quiet, but then let out a tight lipped “sure”.

“I don’t mean on the phone,” he clarifies.

Silence again.

“Ulysses,” you say softly. “I don’t think it would be a good idea if we saw each other.”

“Why not?”

“Because we both know what would happen.”

“Hmm,” he says. “You’re right, best not to tempt you with my good looks in person.”

You can’t help, but laugh and you smile hearing him chuckle as well.

“You’re the one who would be tempted,” you shoot back playfully. “Of the two of us you have weakest will.”

“Ouch,” he says feigning a hiss of being wounded. “That hurts, sweetheart. But you can’t honestly tell me that you’d tell me no?”

You can’t stifle your smile at his antics. “Maybe I will this time.”

“Then let me see you and we’ll put that will of yours to the test,” he teases.

Silence again.

“Why’d you do it?” he finally asks. “Why’d you leave?”

“I told you in the note-”

“I’m not asking what the damn note said, I’m asking you.”

You don’t sugarcoat it. There’s no reason to anymore. “I want to be more with you. I know you can’t give that to me so I made a decision for the both of us.”

“And what if I want to give it to you?”

“Ulysses,” you say with a sigh. “I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of thing. And that’s fine, it’s...it’s who you are. I’m not trying to change you.”

The two of you continue talking for awhile and eventually you give in to Klaue’s request. You allow him to come to you in person to talk. It’s funny, ironic even, how much time he spends on his phone talking to all sorts of people, but with you his words falter via long distance.

It’s the day of when Klaue is supposed to come by where you’ve been staying and you’re so nervous. You keep fussing over the furniture and your appearance. All this time that you had been away from him did nothing to sway your feelings for him because he isn’t even here yet and your heart is already racing, your palms sweaty.

There’s a knock on the door.

You answer it and Klaue stands there with a bit of a sheepish smirk with one hand braced against the doorframe and the other behind his back. He pulls it around to the front to reveal a small bouquet of flowers. You smile and take them and invite him in.

As you put the flowers into a vase, you take the time to look him over. It’s been a very long time since you’ve seen him. His hair has grown out a bit, his beard a bit fuller, and his biceps definitely have gained some mass, but then you notice he stands just a little bit taller due to that he looks a tad bit leaner, his belly not as pronounced. You wonder if he’s been taking care of himself since you notice how exhausted he looks from his eyes.

You watch him take in the surroundings of the room before his gaze lands on you.

“Nice place,” he says.

You don’t want to waste any more time than necessary. You move to stand in front of him and cross your arms. “So, you wanted to talk,” you say.

He rubs the back of his head, clearly he’s out of his element here. When he speaks, it’s slow and deliberate like he’s trying to make sure he phrases his words correctly. “I meant what I said when I said that, I wanted to give you what you want.”

“Why?”

He blinks a few times, taken aback but how quick you’ve asked the question and tone with which you’ve asked it.

“‘Cause I,” he has to take a second to form the words, “miss you. I...would rather have you than not at all and I am,” he clears his throat, “more than willing to...do whatever it is...you need from me.”

You open your mouth to speak and then he’s taking a few steps to close the gap between the two of you, the look in his eyes is sincere as his hands come up to cup your face. “I’m fucking miserable without you,” he says.

Oh.

Hearing him say those words, words you’ve been waiting a long time to hear, hit you like harsh wind and sweep you off your feet.

“Ulysses, I-”

“I need you. I don’t want to wonder where you’ve run off to, I want to come back to you and you be there and well,.... there’s no one else I want on the other side waiting for me.”

“What if I don’t want to wait? What if I want you to stay?” you ask.

He cracks a smile and says, “Then I’ll do it! I mean it! Just...Just give me some time to tie up loose ends and,” his face is close to yours now, his breath on your lips, “we’ll go anywhere you want. Just us. I promise.”

His hands let go of your face to take hold of your waist and you just want to throw your arms around him, but you have to be sure.

“I...I need to hear you say it,” you say softly. “Please.”

He sighs and his shoulders slump a bit. Your expression is downcast as he runs a hand through his hair trying to find what to say next.

He falters and takes a step back. It’s like he wants to say those three words, but can’t. “I...Sweetheart, I...it’s not that I don’t, I just...,” he sighs again, his hands on his hips as he tries to think.

He holds his finger up in a “hold on” gesture and grabs ahold of one of the leather cords around his neck and pulls it off. He’s gotta do this in a way he knows how and in a way that you’ll understand how serious he is. He removes the pendant from the cord and takes off the ring from his little finger, the one he seems to always wear. He loops it onto the cord and then gestures for you to turn around. With a small smile and your heart racing, you turn.

In front of your eyes, the ring on the necklace descends until it rests on your neck, the gold ring heavy and warm against your skin. He fastens it around your neck and then you feel his hands rest on your shoulders. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his voice full of affection. “I’m all yours.”

Your hand comes up to touch the ring, your heart full of love at the gesture.

This...this is really happening. This is real. Not a dream, but real.

You turn around to face him and his face says it all. He looks almost nervous for what you’ll say.

#iafmwbty #Ulysses x reader #ulysses klaue x reader #klaue x reader

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catofadifferentcolor · 1 year

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Terrible Fic Idea #41: Game of Thrones, but make it Lord of the Dance

About five years back I broke Amazon's recommendation algorithm and it never quite recovered. Case in point, it's been recommending Lord of the Dance and Lord of the Dance: Dangerous Games to me for the last few weeks despite my never having expressed an interest in Irish stepdancing.

And then it occurred to me: Lord of the Dance sounds an awful lot like one of the titles someone might have in Game of Thrones, like Lord of the Tides. So naturally my mind went: What if Jon Snow was Lord of the Dance?

Aka: The Lord of the Dance Fic:

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon up to Robert's arrival in Winterfell - with one exception. In addition to being fairly skilled with a blade, Jon Snow excels at the Northern traditional dances, which to some degree resemble Irish stepdance and/or Slavic squat dance.

Instead of being sent to the Wall, Jon heads south as part of Ned's household, the intent being that he train to be Sansa's sworn sword, possibly even a Kingsguard in time.

While Ned, Sansa, and Arya follow their canon plot lines, Jon spends most of his time in King's Landing training or practicing his Northern dancing. Someone - likely Joffrey - catches him at the latter and gives him the nickname Lord of the Dance. It's meant to be derisive, but Jon wears it with pride, partly because he really is an impressive dancer, partly because anything is better than Bastard of Winterfell.

The rare moments Jon doesn't spend training are spend shadowing Sansa, which keeps her from telling Cersei of Ned's plan to flee King's Landing. They manage to take ship before they can be captured...

...and flee to Dragonstone, where Ned and Stannis write their letters declaring Cersei's children bastards.

The War of Five Kings takes place pretty much as in canon, with the exception Robb Ned is never named King in the North. Robb and Ned gather their armies to fight for Stannis - though the Red Wedding still happens as in canon, with Ned present to die beside his wife and eldest son.

In fact, all of canon pretty much takes place as before with one major difference: Sansa, Arya, and Jon are all safe on Dragonstone throughout, half for their own protection and half as guests to ensure the North's continued support of Stannis' claim.

During this time Jon finds himself joining the Dragonstone guard - even becoming its captain after Stannis leads most of his men North following the Battle of the Blackwater. He has near complete freedom of movement throughout the island, and it is during this time that Jon begins to suspect his father isn't Ned Stark at all.

By the time Daenerys and Young Griff arrive at Dragonstone, Jon has become throughly disillusioned. All of his family save his sisters are dead, Winterfell is in the hands of the Boltons, and the two men he admired most in his life - Ned and Stannis - turned out to be liars and religious fanatics. Sansa still hates him for interfering in her betrothal to Joffrey and Arya blames him for not being with Ned and Robb when they died at the Red Wedding. His only friend on the island is Shireen, who managed to slip off the ships when her parents headed north, as disillusioned by her parents as Jon.

When the Targaryen fleet arrives at Dragonstone, Jon opens the gates.

Dany and Young Griff (dealer's choice if he's Rhaegar's son or a Blackfyre) don't quite know what to make of Jon, but eventually warm to him after he gains the loyalty of one of their dragons. Jon comes to be a key player in their conquest of Westeros and is even named their heir until such a time they have their own.

Jon, Dany, and Young Griff reunite the Seven Kingdoms. Jon proves himself in the conquest and War for the Dawn which follows. Dany and Young Griff are crowned Daenerys I and Aegon VI, and Jon is named Prince of Dragonstone. Sansa is named Lady of Winterfell and is always quite bitter about it, while Arya runs away with her blacksmith.

What follows is the long business of putting down rebellions and restoring law and order to Westeros. It... doesn't go nearly as easily as the war.

Young Griff dies trying to put down a food riot in King's Landing about five years after being crowned, having been reluctant to use his dragon against the smallfolk. Dany is assassinated shortly after by those reluctant to follow an Essosi-raised princess. Their marriage produced no children and many believed the queen to be infertile.

Jon is crowned Jaehaerys III. His queen is Shireen Baratheon. But he always says he prefers the title Lord of the Dance as it's the first he earned for himself.

Bonuses include: 1) The world's softest, gentlest friends to lovers for Jon and Shireen. It's the one bright thing either of them have during the war and is built on a foundation of true friendship; 2) Jon, despite reading all the books hidden away in Dragonstone and coming to suspect the truth long before Dany and Young Griff arrived, never quite knowing how to feel about his Targaryen ancestry; and 3) Everyone Jon meets feeling the need to comment on his title Lord of the Dance, leading to Jon having to demonstrate how he earned the title more often than he'd really like and incorporating it in his list of official titles to get ahead of the gossips.

And that.... is surprisingly more than I thought would come from this idea. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #crack fic #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #asoiaf #jon snow #jon snow is a targaryen #lord of the dance #shireen baratheon #danerys targaryen #young griff #aegon vi targaryen

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justinssportscorner · 2 days

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Trudy Ring at The Advocate:

Megan Rapinoe, Sue Bird, and other sports stars are urging the National Collegiate Athletic Association to allow transgender athletes to compete under their gender identity. The NCAA last revised its policy on trans athletes in 2022. For a decade previously, it allowed trans women who’ve completed a year of testosterone suppression treatment to compete alongside cisgender women. The change in 2022 let the governing body for each sport to set standards on testosterone levels. Now, after another college athletic association barred all trans women from participating in women’s sports, the star athletes and others are calling on the NCAA to stand up for inclusion. More than over 400 current and former NCAA, professional, Olympic, and Paralympic athletes sent an open letter expressing that sentiment to the NCAA Board of Governors, which is having a virtual meeting Thursday. It’s not clear if the trans policy is on the agenda, but “the end of April and beginning of May is typically a key rules-making period for the NCAA,” The Washington Post reports. The NCAA will also hold its annual inclusion forum this week.

“To deny transgender athletes the fundamental right to be who they are, to access the sport they love, and to receive the proven mental and physical health benefits of sport goes against the very principles of the NCAA’s Constitution,” says the letter. Its more well-known signers include WNBA coach Cheryl Reeve, soccer champion Megan Rapinoe, trans male swimmer Schuyler Bailar, and WNBA players Bird, Layshia Clarendon, and Brianna Turner.

Rapinoe, an ambassador for Athlete Ally, a group that advocates for LGBTQ+ equality in sports, also issued a statement through the organization: “The time is now for the NCAA and the nationwide athletic community to speak up and affirm that sports should be for everyone, including transgender athletes,” she said. “To my fellow cis women athletes: the time is now to say loud and clear that bans against trans athletes framed as ‘protecting women’s sports’ do not speak for us and do nothing to protect us. To the trans athletes fearing that they may be sidelined from the sport they love: I see you and hear you and I am WITH YOU. “ The letter continues, “Within the context of broad legislative attacks on the rights of trans people in the United States, opposition to trans athletes is driven by certain politicians who seek to control our bodies, not by science or data. Although trans exclusionary efforts claim to ‘protect women’s sports,’ in reality, they fail to address any of the real, documented threats to women in sports, namely unequal pay, failure to uphold Title IX, rampant sexual abuse and harassment of women and girl athletes, and a lack of equal resources for men’s and women’s teams (as we saw in March Madness tournaments just three years ago).”

[...] The lawsuit in question was filed in March by several current and former college athletes, alleging that the NCAA violated their rights by allowing swimmer Lia Thomas, a trans woman, to compete against cisgender women. One of the plaintiffs is Riley Gaines, who has been particularly outspoken in her opposition to trans inclusion. Gaines and Thomas tied for fifth place in the 2022 NCAA National Championships. The letter points out that four cis women beat Thomas.

The letter from athletes was accompanied by a separate letter from Athlete Ally, 53 other LGBTQ+ advocacy, gender justice, and sports organizations and 56 PFLAG chapters nationwide, plus a letter from more than 300 scholars and academics.

Megan Rapinoe, Sue Bird, and Cheryl Reeve are among the 400+ signatories to a letter via Athlete Ally urging the NCAA to stand up for trans inclusion in sports.

#NCAA #Transgender Sports #Transgender #Megan Rapinoe #Sue Bird #Cheryl Reeve #Athlete Ally #Gaines v. NCAA #Riley Gaines

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tdmtdmtd · 6 months

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Holy shit

HOLY SHIT

COOLMATH GAMES ARG

Part 3 - I was fucking right > last post

Another new post was uploaded to the CMG Instagram AS WELL AS a new game to the CMG website AND a message from the CMG Team

Let's start with the Instagram post.

It's nothing too extraordinary, just a photo of the prototype on the homepage. But where the crack was is now a message from the team.

Which takes you to a blog with the URL "burn-after-reading", the title of the page is "The Secret Has Been Uncovered". And the name of the upload is "Read This Before They Take It Down!"

It's Maddie. Talking about everything that happened and that they found. But as I read through it, other than a summary of what we already know, there's also things that we didn't know but are interesting to take note. Like how, since day 2 of the post, they felt like there was some sort of monster lurking the office. Or on Day 6 when they tried to get the game running themselves, the last line was to sleep with one eye open. But Day 8, today, they upload the game, the post, and end the message with "Use the clues found on this blog, look for the words that stand out. This is the key to the whole thing! Seek the truth and you shall find it."

If you don't want me to spoil the game and go try it yourself, here's a link to the game and on to the post.

For those who don't care about spoilers, get ready.

In the blog there are quite a few words bolded and italicized, this list includes: Search, Monster, Found, Myself, Escape, and Darkness. Starting the game, there's something broken down in the bottom right.

The story is that the player was in the middle of the forest with some other people, left for a minute, and when you came back they were gone. Going straight forward, you see the Hangman Monster and then get eaten by him. The choice before there is a hat that looks like yours.

"Huh, this hat looks a lot like mine. I don't remember anyone in the group having a hat like mine..."

Right before that, there were some popped balloons. Going left or right anywhere, there are two things you can click, the main object, and a bug after you solve the main thing. Both give you balloons, but the bugs give you glitchy balloons. Getting all the balloons, glitchy and not, you get a choice of path

Going left, you see the monster, not just the face, the entire Hangman Monster. It has something to say.

This strange forest is something I once called my home. Yet when I descend further, I see things are not as they seem. This forest is like no other; we cannot stay. There is no other solution. Do not fear me, I want to become your friend. Perhaps we can escape together.

The monster's balloons lift him from the forest, and so do yours and after a few more words, the monster says join me and the screen fades to black. You do in fact have to refresh the page to do anything again.

Going right, the balloons make you float away like normal... like if you didn't get all the glitchy balloons. You are then given a hint to look deeper. A very... subtle... hint

You actually see the color change as it's being written, or, typed, I guess. The next button text changes to "Find Me?" and then you restart after clicking it. One last thing to note is the instructions of the game.

I have nothing to say about them, but anyway, I thought I'd bring it up anyway. Also, I feel like the name is some kind of code, but I'm not too sure what code if it is.

So there you go, the entire prototype, if there's another Instagram update or anything like that I'll make another post but this is it for now. For those who don't want to spend the time trying to solve the bugs I'll list them here: (sights, descend, other, appear, become, together)

#tdmtdmtd #coolmath games arg #coolmath games #cool math games #arg #alternate reality game #196

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nitrosodiumfmp · 2 months

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Plans for the Dock Map

These are two pieces of artwork vaguely representing the Dock map. They're not 100% accurate, but they display the basics. You start out on the jetty, before heading into the first yard with a lighthouse on the side, two warehouses standing ominously on either side of you, and beyond a Gothic wrought-iron fence, a taller building, with a single open window glowing eerie blue. Your mission will be to enter the Shipwright's office and take a Soul Anchor from it - an important artifact that you'll need to get before continuing through the afterlife. To get there, you first need to enter Warehouse A, where you can find a note that says the only way into the Shipwright's office is through the outside. This, coupled with the face that the window is clearly visible, signals to the player that they now need to use parkour to reach the office. From spawn, a plank is visible connecting the main building to the roof of Warehouse B. The key in Warehouse A unlocks the gate to the Outskirts, a cluster of streets beyond the fence. After some exploration, the player will see that the main building is blocked off, and Warehouse B is locked. Via another note, they will learn that the key is in a side building, the Earthly Possessions storehouse. Once inside Warehouse B, they will use the elevator to reach the roof, and shimmy across a plank to reach the Shipwright's office. Inside, writing is scrawled across the walls, plus a maddening note left by the Shipwright detailing the event that warped the underworld; just more lore. Once you interact with the Soul Anchor on his desk, you complete the level.

So it's a basic puzzle encouraging exploration and introspection in the environment. Three notes, two keys; it's nothing too complex. I'm thinking of adding a unique red-clothed Grave Digger corpse on the ground before the Shipwright's window, implying that it's the Shipwright having fallen to his death. Obviously right now it's all big ugly blockouts, but here are some of my inspirations.

Shipping... and Receiving is a Thief 2 mission, where you must plunder a dockside system of warehouses. Obviously, it's very much like my map, having Garrett explore the containers of the warehouse's various tenants, including spice smugglers, Mechanist religious zealots, artists, recording companies, and traders. My Dock doesn't have the same variety; Warehouse A is filled with big rusted containers and wooden crates, and I plan for Warehouse B to have a boat chained up on it. Then the main building is mostly inaccessible, except for the Shipwright's office. This aesthetic of grimy brick and opaque old-style windows is essentially the bread and butter of the map so far, but the second section, the Outskirts, is going to be a little different.

Yes, it's Limbo of the Lost again, specifically the town area of Darkmere. Nearly every building has a large sign indicating its trade, and some screens have signposts showing multiple areas to go. I want to create the imagery of a crooked city block without making an entire city block, so I'll include lots of side areas with nothing in them, and street signs pointing to them. It's almost like a diorama of what a larger location would look like; a vertical slice for you to play through without sacrificing fun for realism. This idea of naming everything to give an impression of a larger space existing beyond the game's limits was done before in games like Bioshock.

(Note the Lower Wharf text at the bottom of the screen). Bioshock takes place in Rapture, a massive underwater city which you only see bits and pieces of throughout the game, and each sub-area is titled, to help sell the idea that you're in a real place and not just a level in a video game. This idea of immersion is key to Bioshock, and its strong aesthetic-oriented metropolis is a large inspiration for Sinister. The Neptune's Bounty area of Rapture shown in the image above is also quite usable for Sinister; it's the main port of the city, full of wooden struts and stacked shipping containers. That, combined with the gloomy cityscape visible from every porthole, bathed in turquoise light from the ocean depths, makes it very akin to Sinister.

#devlog #gamedev #indiedev #indiegamedev #nitrosodium #indie dev #indie game dev #indie game #indie games

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golmac · 10 months

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Inform Basics (#16: Introduction to Extensions)

Extensions are just that: bits of code that extend the capabilities of Inform. Their effects can be tiny or massive. The largest and most impactful extension to Inform 7 is Graham Nelson's Standard Rules, defines an Inform 7 games default behaviors and responses. We recently searched this extension to determine where a message about eating a sandwich was coming from.

You might wonder: why bother putting all of that in an extension? Why not bake it into the compiler? Let's set aside the fact that keeping it separate makes it easier to alter, fix, upgrade, etc. That's all true and very useful. The beautiful thing for us, though, who are learning natural language programming in Inform 7, is that the Standard Rules are written in Inform 7, too.

It can serve as a model for our own code. As we learn to write better code, we will learn to better understand what is going on in the Standard Rules. The syntax we are learning is also the syntax that governs most default actions in Inform 7. This is tremendously useful to us, as we don't have to memorize the functions of a black box that we cannot see into.

Thanks to this architecture, the behaviors of Inform 7 that we wish to emulate or improve upon are exposed to us from the beginning.

The extensible architecture of Inform 7 also allows us to incorporate well-designed code by other authors into our own games. Several extensions are installed with Inform 7 by default, though they are not immediately active in a new Inform 7 project. Within the IDE, you can check to see which extensions are installed, and which of those installed extensions are active.

For now, let's just think about extensions installed by default. I believe the extension that is most commonly included in Inform 7 projects is probably Emily Short's "Basic Screen Effects."

Let's take a look at it.

In the same way that we opened the Standard Rules, we can open the "Basic Screen Effects" extension: file->open installed extension->Emily Short->Basic Screen Effects.

There's a lot here we can't understand! Under the hood, Inform performs what I'll call low-level functions via Inform 6, a VERY different language. Sometimes extensions can teach us new tricks. On the other hand, some call upon powerful techniques that our own Inform 7 code cannot perform.

If you keep scrolling through the extension, you'll reach the "documentation" section. A well-documented extension will provide substantial instructions as well as sample code. Since, as the documentation says, the custom colors do not work with Gluxe compiled stories (this series uses the Glulxe format exclusively), what do people use "Basic Screen Effects" for? In my experience, Glulxe games use the following features somewhat regularly:

Clearing the screen.

Waiting for keypresses.

Waiting for a keypress is fairly common (in Repeat the Ending, it is used 38 times):

When play begins: say "Press any key to begin"; wait for any key;

Sometimes, it is beneficial to clear the screen. Note that this can sometimes annoy players, because they cannot scroll back to see text pre-clearing. I think the Windows exception is the WinGlulxe interpreter, which keeps scrollback in a separate window. Use with caution.

When play begins: say "You have reached the point of no return. Press any key to continue"; wait for any key; clear the screen.

However: as previously mentioned, it is not enough to install most extensions; you must include them in your project, like so:

include basic screen effects by emily short.

The format is quite important. The name of the extension should match the name, which can always be found at the beginning of the extension's code. the author's name is required as well. If you'd like to avoid typos, you can simply copy the title and author directly from the extension. In this case, that first line is

Version 8 of Basic Screen Effects by Emily Short begins here.

It doesn't hurt if we copy the version number. In some cases, it might be helpful--perhaps we are juggling multiple versions.

Include Version 8 of Basic Screen Effects by Emily Short

It is wise to INCLUDE your extensions at or near the very beginning of your project. This will help you keep track of them and prevent confusions over precedence. You can use Inform's built-in taxonomy (more on this next time) to clearly categorize your included extensions for easy reference.

At present, the standard repository of non-preinstalled extensions for Inform version 10-compatible projects (this series deals only with Inform 7, version 10) is Friends of Inform. It is large and potentially overwhelming for new authors. By all means, poke around, but don't be shy about asking for help. I won't be exploring this facet of I7 development for some time, so don't feel like you need to understand everything yet.

As a final trick: remember how, way back when, we devised a method for telling the compiler to either include or exclude commands based on whether we had a test or production build?

PROD is a truth state that varies. PROD is usually true. Section 0-99 - not for release PROD is false.

Well, let's say all the WAIT FOR ANY KEY prompts slow down our testing scripts. We can use a conditional to disable them in a test build (when PROD is false).

if PROD is true, wait for any key;

Up next: organizing your code.

As always, feel free to AMA about Inform 7, Repeat the Ending, or just parser stuff in general.

#interactive fiction #inform 7 #parser #i am not a programmer irl #i7 #i7 for beginners

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anneapocalypse · 1 year

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Mark Darrah's Memories and Lessons from Dragon Age 2

youtube

Mark Darrah, former BioWare developer and Executive Producer, talks about the development of Dragon Age 2.

Summary of key points below the cut!

EA closed the sale on BioWare right before Origins shipped. At the time, MMOs were seen as the future and EA wanted Star Wars: The Old Republic, which was currently in development and scheduled to ship in 2009, but delayed several times. Because of the delay, EA told BioWare they needed to ship a game in fiscal 2011 to "plug the hole." It was decided that Dragon Age 2 would be that game.

Darrah says you can never be sure how real the threats are from higher up, but this one seemed pretty real, and if they hadn't shipped a game, EA likely would have demanded cost-cutting measures for the studio.

The original plans for the second Dragon Age game looked a lot more like what eventually became Inquisition. That concept wasn't possible in the time they had.

Preliminary work had been done for another expansion pack for DAO, and much of this concept got rolled into DA2. However, Darrah resists the idea that DA2 was "built out of an expansion pack" because he feels it minimizes how much work the team did in a short period of time. It is true that David Gaider had already laid a lot of groundwork for the expansion, but there were also no assets or levels created yet.

The team originally wanted to call the game Dragon Age: Exodus, which Mark still believes would fit the game better and would have helped it find its audience better. The implication that DA2 was a direct sequel to DAO set a lot of expectations that were not accurate, and they set people up for disappointment that was in some cases, he feels, unjustified. The name "Dragon Age 2" was a mandate from above; the executive at the time insisted that "Dragon Age 2" would sell better, would fix everything, would "probably cure cancer," and so that was the title. "They were wrong," Darrah says, but the team couldn't override the exec.

Darrah likes the frame narrative, both for the punchy opening it allows and the unreliable narrator:

I love unreliable narrators in general. Dragon Age uses unreliable narrators for everything. The reason I love unreliable narrators is that it allows you to present information through the lens of someone who could be wrong, or intentionally misleading. 'Brother Genitivi says…' is how most lore in Dragon Age: Origins is presented, and what that allows you to do is have him be wrong, mislead the player on purpose, or sometimes just give yourself the flexibility to change your mind, in order to change the lore, change the universe around that established lore without actually violating it, because it's an unreliable narrator.

But the cool thing is, you actually get all of that while also deepening the sense of your setting being lived in by real human beings. When information is presented by an unreliable narrator, it's presented by a person within the setting. It's not just sterile information dumped into a Codex; it comes with this implication of story and life that doesn't come from other ways of presenting information. To my mind, it's actually win-win across the board; it gives you extra flexibility, while also making the setting feel more alive.

A frame narrative can have the problem of draining some of the tension, because you know that the narrator has to survive. DA2 gets around this by having Varric narrate; you know Varric lives, but Hawke could have died.

Darrah acknowledges that the trick where they increased Bethany's bust size in Varric's exaggerated prologue was juvenile, and while he thinks it's in-character for Varric, he also doesn't think it adds much to the character and says that they probably wouldn't do that today.

They were able to control scope on the project by making DA2 a story told over time, instead of over a lot of space. This allowed them to get more story out of less area.

DA2 had very little peelable scope, which refers to having elements that are easily removed when cuts need to be made. Nearly everything that was initially conceived was conceived as necessary; everything that could be cut was cut right away.

The idea of Act I was a metaplot about gathering enough resources for the expedition, so that it could grow or shrink as needed. But they ended up needing to introduce a lot of plot points and character-establishing quests in Act I, so the "raise enough money" plot became secondary, because by doing the other essential quests, you would earn the money as a byproduct, which made Act I feel less open and exploratory.

Darrah feels that DA2 in some ways shows why constraints are important, because it's a great example of a team rising to the challenge to work within the space they're given to make a good game within that box.

Tactical camera was set aside for DA2. Darrah doesn't feel that it's a core feature of the series.

Things he does feel define the series are teamwork, choices with consequences, and power with a price, among other things.

"It's about the characters, stupid":

The primary reason that I think Dragon Age 2 is the Dragon Age game that’s very fashionable to like now is because it’s the first BioWare game that intentionally puts the characters first. I still don’t think we’ve actually said it out loud, that "It’s about the characters, stupid," that BioWare’s secret sauce is characters and followers that you can have these relationships with. I still don’t think that we’re really acknowledging it. We’re doing it because we have no other choice. Characters are fast to write; characters don’t require as many re-writes, typically; characters can often do their plot in whatever level is hanging around. So they are perfect for a highly constrained situation.

As you go beyond this game, as you get even past Dragon Age: Inquisition— yeah, the reality is, is this is what makes BioWare games special. Characters that are interesting, that have interesting interactions, that have arcs and evolution and wants and needs, that you get to have a story with, that you get to hang out with, that you get to potentially romance. This is the secret of BioWare games and it’s, in retrospect, kind of mindboggling that it wasn’t until a post-Dragon Age: Inquisition world that BioWare was really able to say this out loud and say "It’s about the characters, stupid. It’s always been about the characters, stupid." Why did we allow this to be an incidental feature that was special in spite of the intention that was being paid to it? So I think Dragon Age 2 is the game that shows the way to what made BioWare special in the first place, and what continues to hopefully make BioWare special in the future. That’s the special thing in Dragon Age 2.

Darrah thinks the level reuse in terms of telling a story through time in the same city is fine, even if not everybody likes it; it's upfront about what it's doing. The generic warehouse isn't ideal, but it's okay. The one he thinks is less defensible is the cave, because the cave is too distinctive, despite being identified as a different cave every time, and it's not just recognizable as reuse but "rubbing your nose in it." A more generic cave would actually have been better.

In terms of art direction, Dragon Age 2 was pushed toward a more distinctive look. In part, this is a response to the engine itself, which is very good at pushing polygons and large amounts of mesh, but less good at surface effects and textures. So between "push more polygons," and a vision of "Kurosawa in the Northern Renaissance," the art style of DA2 took shape. Darrah likes that DA2 has a distinct aesthetic that you can recognize from a screenshot.

Another major change from DAO was “the philosophical approach to combat.” The underlying combat engine is the same; it’s just packaged differently. Origins uses a combat balance known as “perfect symmetry”—enemies do the same amount of damage as the player character and allies. DA2 throws out the idea of symmetry. The player character and party members have fewer hit points and do more damage; enemies have more hit points and do less damage. This opens up more possibilities for player abilities, but creates problems if you want to turn party member against the player or have enemies join the party. Darrah thinks DA2 pushes it a bit too far because it makes the combat herder to understand numerically. Dragon Age: Inquisition tried to strike a blance between the two: not perfectly symmetrical, but not so dramatically asymmetrical. (He notes that D&D went through a similar transition between 3e and 5e.)

“EA has always had trouble marketing BioWare games.” For DA2, the marketing was intended to be two-pronged, one prong aimed at the “tree house” (the established fans) and the “frat house” (a new, mainstream audience). Right off the bat Darrah cautions about using reductive labels like this. In the end, he says, pretty much all the marketing ended up targeting the “frat house,” so that was all the marketing the fans were consuming and that made them worried that the game would be “dumbed down” and more console-focused. This set up the core audience to reject the game even harder than it deserved. More targeting of the core audience might have helped, but Darrah also points out that your devoted core fans are going to consume all the marketing, whether it’s intended for them or not.

The marketing team for DA2 did a lot of things to “juice up” the preorder numbers, which gave the impression that the game was going to sell a lot better than it did.

Darrah’s greatest regret for DA2 is that the ending forces you to fight both bosses either way—which he’s pretty sure was his decision, but he believes it was a mistake. It was felt that Orsino wasn’t worthy of being an end boss by himself, so it was decided that the player would fight Meredith either way, which he thinks is defensible. The problem is that they also make the player fight Orsino either way. Darrah says there’s often a desire to have the player consume as much content as possible, because it can feel like “waste” otherwise; he argues that players not consuming all the content isn’t a problem, and is actually a good thing.

Despite the backlash, over time DA2 has become the one that it is “fashionable to like.” With some distance from the marketing and the initial backlash, a lot of people came to appreciate what was good about DA2, particularly the strong focus on characters.

DA2 has Darrah’s favorite box art, even though it does commit what he calls the “cardinal sin” of RPG box art in locking down the player character into a single default appearance. He says that box art doesn’t matter as much as it used to, but he believes it’s still important.

The Dragon Age team became a true team through the work on DA2. Darrah wouldn’t recommend the kind of rush DA2 had, but he likes what it forged the team into and wonders whether that experience could be replicated in a different way.

What would Mark do differently?

If they had stay within the same constraints:

Adjust the marketing and make sure there’s better messaging to the core fanbase to mitigate the negative reaction.

Call the game Dragon Age: Exodus.

Don’t make Orsino a mandatory bossfight.

Make a more generic cave for reuse.

If they had more time:

Ship the next fiscal year, damn the consequences.

Cut or simplify the main plot parts of Act I and bring back the focus on making money for the expedition.

Make a second cave.

Reduce the asymmetry of the combat system a bit.

Mask out the unused parts of reused area maps.