#but yeah OH MY GOD what a stellar fucking game
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GAME COMPLETED!
I need a hot minute before I gush... But oh my god, wow, this game was incredible. Not just a stellar handheld title, but a prime Zelda title as a whole. 9.9/10, for sure <3
#scrawny rambles#tloz#albw#anyhow i'm obsessed#i WILL be making memes in the aftermath#as always this is a zelda game and OH MY FUCKING GOD THE PLOT. JUST. look i've known all this for years but#yuga. hilda. their schemes. their dynamic. what the FUCK is up with them???#ravio my beloved freeloader god fucking bless and amen#i only wish that you had REARRANGED MY FURNITURE ONCE YOU SOLD OUT. FUCKER.#smh ravio ess-em-eych#everyone in that trio needs to be held by the nape and shaken to varying degrees#i 100%'d my file and died only nine whole times!! wow 🥰🥳#GOD. this MIGHT be the first time i've 100%'d a game ever#holy shit#but yeah OH MY GOD what a stellar fucking game#highly recommend#takes a little getting used to at first#but everything is so intuitive and so wonderfully designed#guiding without handholding#again just a stellar example of zelda at its best in so many ways#we STAN albw on this blog#even if turtle rock was a pain and i'm put-off by what they did with oren lmao
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👻Hallowe'en Special👻
Ghosting.
Michael Afton x fem!reader.
Synop: After being abandoned by a friend at a stellar Halloween party, reader hooks up with someone in a Ghostface costume... turns out to be Michael Afton. This is a very distant sequel to Hateful with both Mike and reader being arseholes with an enemies to lovers thing going on.
Warnings: drinking, swearing, horniness, smut, public sex.
You’ve been looking forward to tonight for months. A friend of a friend spread the word about their ‘killer halloween party’ almost as soon as August rolled around and rumours of fancy dress, live music and drinking games followed suit. It sounded like just what you needed to perk you up after weeks of studying.
And now, looking at your costume laid on your bed, you can’t help but grin, it’s cheesy and a little old-fashioned, but hey, if it ain’t broke…
You’ve spent much too long getting it just right, using several sharpies, glitter and lipstick to perfect the face on your blanket, huge eyelashes on top of your eye cut-outs and big pouting lips. A fucking perfect, tarted-up blanket ghost. You complete the set-up with a pair of fishnets and chunky heels, unable to hold in your giggles when you check out the outfit in your mirror.
“Oh my god, you look crazy.” Your friend Gemma laughs, looking at herself in the reflection next to you, her playboy bunny costume a much more basic choice than yours. One could argue a more sensible one too, because you'd had to layer up so all your secrets couldn't be exposed by one big gust of wind.
“Yeah, crazy hot.” You put your hands on your hips and pose, both of you tittering like schoolgirls. It is funny, but you’re aware that the pre-drinks you’ve had are probably making it seem funnier than it is.
Your friend grabs a jacket and slings it over her shoulders, gesturing with her head that it’s time to go. “Can you even see anything?” She asks as you join her outside, looking at you sceptically as you turn around to lock your apartment door, missing the keyhole on the first try.
If she could see your face, your eye rolling would be very evident. “Yeah. I know what I’m doing.” You bring your hands to the lips of the blanket, “I even cut a hole so I can stick a straw through.” Showing her by sticking your tongue through the gap, though quickly cringing at the feeling and taste of the fabric.
“Oooh, she’s prepared.” Gemma says sarcastically, before putting a hand on your shoulder and all but forcing you to get a move on, you don’t want to be more than fashionably late after all.
~
One giggly taxi ride later, you and her are struggling to get out of the car without flashing anyone. And then, you're heading up the front steps to the house, where the party is already in the swing of things. A werewolf sits next to an inflatable flamingo on the steps, one smoking, the other vaping, you’re admiring their costumes when you realise the wolf is a lad from your tutor, so you stop to tell him how amazing he looks.
“Come on, y/n.” Your friend again takes your arm, her voice faux-whining. “We haven’t even got drinks yet, you can mingle in a second.”
You let her guide you, though not without a sharp glare, quickly turning to the wolf before you go, “See you later, Joe!”
As you step away, she grins at you, almost knocking over a witch’s drink sitting beside her on the top step. “Really gushing over Hoe-seph, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows, her tone a little condescending.
You can’t help but laugh, “Shut up, you knob.” you nudge her, making her wobble on her huge heels. “You’ve got to admit he looks great.”
She scoffs in response. “Sure, he does. But it’s fucking Joe! We can do better tonight.”
…
So much for that, you think to yourself as you sip probably the cheapest lager you’ve ever tried through a curly straw. Not even an hour after you and her had arrived, she’d found a group of people she knew from law studies and buggered off with them. Right now, you can see her bunny ears peeking over the crowd and swaying slightly to the music.
You probably should have anticipated being on your lonesome.
Though that doesn’t make it any less shit.
“You alright, y/n? You here all on your own?” Someone you recognise talks loudly over the music, pulling you out of your silent thought.
You sigh, though they probably can’t hear the extent of it. “Yeah… Gemma pulled her signature move and left me in the dust.” You try to explain, having to repeat the words twice before they understand. When they do, their expression shifts in pity and they put a hand on your shoulder.
“Awww, come drink with us then, screw her.” You pull a face as you consider, before nodding and following them over to the kitchen where they and six others stand around an island drinking. It’s much brighter in there with the big lights on and you blink after being so used to the muted multi-colour lights of the living room.
Your new buddy catches your reaction. “Hey, don’t let the light sober you up. What are you drinking?” They ask, and man, you really need to buck up and ask their name.
“Uhh… whatever this is.” You twist the bottle around so they can see the label and their expression instantly reveals disapproval. Which you completely understand.
“You want another one of them?” A bloke standing next to the fridge pipes up, who you'll come to learn is called Ash.
“...Not really.” You admit and they laugh.
“Vod and coke?” Your saviour prompts with a huge bottle of smirnoff in their hand and you beam under your costume.
“Now we’re talking.”
~
As enjoyable as the change in drink was, it didn’t take much for it to take effect and pretty soon you’re hanging off the arm of someone you've just formed a strong drunken friendship with, and singing along to someone’s halloween playlist.
The drunkenness itself wasn’t so bad, everyone else was too and surprisingly this group was an excellent match of personalities. The main problem was that drink makes you horny. Like seriously horny. Horny enough to scan these people for a viable and interested partner. But you swiftly realise the seven of you are made up of two couples, someone that doesn't date girls and that Ash guy.
You struggle to think of who around could be your hook up. Yes, you could go find your werewolf friend, or his flamingo buddy, but that doesn’t feel too appealing.
“I’m gonna go outside… I want to smoke.” You try not to slur your words, and pat the arm of the person that led you to this drunken safe haven as you walk, or rather stumble, past. The struggle is real, especially in these heels, but you manage it. Squeezing through masses of guests and trying not to get decked by tipsy people dancing, some of them shouted sorrys at you, others stared after your form like you were in the wrong.
The cool night air was pleasant and you soak it all in as you check faces around. You recognise lots of people even through costumes but you know them too well for a quick drunken hook up, and there's no need to make your social circles awkward. But, god, you’re thirsting.
Moving down the steps and being really careful not to slip, you pull a packet of cigarettes out from under your blanket, the box warm from being pressed against your skin for so long. Then you go down the side of the house, flinching when a motion-sensor light kicks into life and illuminates the path in a dingy yellow light. It’s like the party doesn’t exist back here, the noise completely dying when you turn the corner into the back garden.
And that’s when you see him. Some guy in a full Ghostface get-up, one glove pulled up to let him scroll through his Instagram feed. You can’t help but grin under your covering, you have a special place in your heart for Ghostface, the movie one of your favourites for many reasons. Not all of them wholesome.
Placing the cigarette through the slit in your costume, you light up. Taking yourself over to slasher and standing beside him.
“Uhh hey…” He turns to you tilting his head, no doubt trying to figure out who you were under your mask and failing. “That costume is-”
You smirk as you cut him off, “Amazing? I know. Proving to be a little inconvenient though.”
“Yeah I’ll bet. Do I know you?” You make a humming noise, trying to decide if you want to know who he is. There’s something really hot about the anonymity of it, hell you can play with the idea of a Matthew Lillard or Skeet Ulrich under there. And just the thought of that spurs you on immensely.
“I’m not sure. But there’s fun in that.” The guy nods, but you can imagine a look of confusion under that sexy mask. You’re not usually this bold, but liquid courage and boredom can make anyone risqué.
The two of you fall silent for a moment, before you break it teasingly, “Well, aren’t you going to ask me?”
Ghostface scoffs in hesitation before he bites the lure. “Ask you what?”
You dramatically place a hand on your chest as you pretend to gasp. “... The Question. From the movie, you know, the one Ghostface is famous for?”
“Ohh.” he laughs as he catches on. A hand digging in his robe for a small black device that looks like a radio. He holds it up to the mask and does as you ask, “... What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice changer is scarily movie accurate, that iconic voice that is the perfect mixture of terrifying and ridiculously hot.
You gasp for real this time, losing yourself in giggles, “That is awesome, holy shit.” You move a little closer, deciding that yeah, you want to test the waters with this fella. “Scream…” You answer, “Because I think Ghostface is really hot.”
The flirtation in your tone isn’t hard to miss and although he’s surprised you just walked up to him and staked a claim, he certainly isn’t complaining. “Yeah?”
You nod, alcohol making you brave enough to lay all your cards on the table. You lift up the hem of your blanket slowly to show him how good your upper thighs look in these fishnets. “You interested?”
He laughs, “Hell yeah.”
~
Right there against the back of the house you pull the sheet up over your hips and your little shorts down, grinning in excitement as you watch him pull his gloves off and set about doing the same. He tries to help you take the fishnets down, but at this point you just hook your fingers into the holes and rip them enough to allow him access to your slick seam. “Fuck.” he breaths when his fingers come into contact with your wetness. How the hell has he gotten this lucky tonight?
The vodka in your veins doesn’t let you feel the cold, right now there’s nothing you want more than a good fuck and you hope that whoever is gripping your hips right now can do that for you. And judging by how quickly he finds your clit and begins to slowly rub circles, he absolutely can.
It’s clumsy, but exactly what you want and pretty soon you’re arching your back and pulling at the waistband of his boxers. You free his cock and he’s delightfully big and thick in your hands, so much so that you have to commend yourself, you really picked a good one here. Your hurried grabbing of his dick pushes him to press into you, hands cupping under your behind and lifting you to his perfect angle. It’s unexpected and you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, leaving him to slide his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick, before pressing firmly inside you.
“Shit-” You hiss instantly, a buzz in your core becoming apparent at the gorgeous feeling of him filling you up. You move your hips against him as much as you can, spurring him on to a rough pace of fucking in and out of you. Neither of you consider that you’re completely exposed, lewdly hooking up outside next to someone’s house, anyone could come round the back and catch the two of you but that’s the furthest thing from your mind.
His grunts match the pace that’s quickly bringing both of you to your ends, gradually becoming whiny as he tries to make you come before finishing, but your tight walls are making that fairly difficult, as are the sweet sounds he’s pulling from you. He doesn’t realise how close you are and so the second he again starts to stroke your clit, the waves of your climax hit you hard. Your pussy sporadically tightens around him as you cum, your head tilting back against the wall and just like that he has to pull out, his release immediately hot and sticky on the top of your thighs. He thrusts into his hand as he finishes, groans dripping from his lips.
By now you’re recovered enough to be annoyed that he’s covered your lower body in cum and you push against him to get him off of you. He obeys and leans against the wall next to you, both of you staring forward for a moment of realisation. How the Hell are you supposed to go back in there with this costume fucking sticking to you? God, you probably should have discussed logistics beforehand but hindsight is 20/20, huh? Your still tipsy brain nearly laughs at the situation but stops when the bloke next to you starts shifting in his costume, grabbing at his mask in an almost panicky way.
He manages to pry it off and closes his eyes for a moment. The very moment he does you practically jump 30 feet in the air. A gross knowledge snapping through you so fast, you swear you touch all five bases on the grief scale. Your Ghostface was fucking Michael. Michael Pissing Afton. “Oh. Fucking Christ.” You snap out of nowhere, making Mike flinch.
“Woah, what? What’s wrong?” Your reaction is so strong he thinks you must be in pain of something and swiftly turns towards you, hands hovering over you like you were about to hit the deck.
You neglect to answer him, just angrily pulling the blanket up and tearing it off your form with an exasperated sigh. Only Michael Afton could make you completely sober in the span of two seconds.
He watches with wide eyes and almost winces when he reaches the same conclusion you did. “Y/n?” He laughs a little in surprise, still staring as you toss your costume on the floor and stand there in the tiniest shorts and top going. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”
You scoff, “I didn’t fucking know, did I?” You say loudly, the silence following it deafening. Honest to God, how didn’t you realise sooner? You definitely should recognise him from your fling nearly a year ago- must be the alcohol, but still, if you’d have known you probably would have shopped around a bit before settling for Michael Fucking Afton.
A stupid smug smirk coats his lips, that pinch between your brows is just funny. He speaks through a chuckle, “I actually can’t believe it’s you… How’re you doing, it’s been a while?”
The sharp gaze you fix him with just makes him laugh harder. “Yeah, that was intentional.”
And there was that side of you that got on his last nerve, props to your attitude for being able to ruin a perfectly good shag. “Why are you pissed off? You came on to me.” He asks the questions incredulously, his tone irritating.
“Huh, bet that’s a first.” You retort, a condescending smile increasing tenfold when he scowls.
How in the name of all that is holy did this happen?
A/n: Hope you enjoyed, stay tuned for the next one xxx
#fnaf#michael afton#michael afton x reader#michael afton x you#michael afton smut#FWB's halloween event#fnaf smut
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I would love to hear your Indigo Disk thoughts
YES!!!!!!! 💎🐢💥 full disclosure I only just finished Indigo Disk's main storyline like....less than 24 hours ago so I am still RIDING HIGH FROM THE RUSH OF IT ALL. will probably be spoilers ahead, as a head's up:
first off I love that like. right off the bat youre getting hit with cyrano and cavell old man yaoi. busting out the cute little nicknames like HELLO!!! AND then you have geeta showing up and rika is there for no reason whatsoever and it's like. well ok i think they were having lesbian activities on the plane over you love to see it!
anyway setting wise, the Big Ol Blueberry is pretty fun! I love running around and the Synchro Machine is SUCH a ridiculously fun feature (FINALLY, TRUE GAMING: Dana can run around as a Ninetales and smack a big ball around.) I love all the Unova callbacks and I LOVE THE DIFFERENT CLUB ROOM LAYOUTS!! The monochrome one made me tear up and SEEING THE FUCKIGN. POKESTAR STUDIOS ENEMIES. IN THE FUTURISTIC ONE. MADE ME FEEL SOMETHING. pokestar studios my beloved i miss it sooo much 😭 My buddy Snap was talkin about how the Terarium really kind of lacks... yknow, landmarks and points of interest, though, and god I agree so hard. I love that Kitakami had its own little set of interesting features and places to go and use as landmarks and the Terariuam kind of. Doesn't really have those. It's a bit of a pain in the ass to navigate and easy to get lost but not in a fun way.... even though you have these little neat natural features like The Pride Rock and Chargestone Caves, I wish we coulda had a little bit more :( For such a widely used part of the school it doesn't feel very 'lived' in by the students there. It would've been fun to see more gathering places aside from the Very Sterile Outside Classrooms.....
The Area Zero Underdepths, though...hooouughhHHHhhh. I just. I really have to admire the fact that Indigo Disk said "ohhh you want answers?? you wanna know what's going on in this place? fuck you, youre gonna have MORE questions after this, and theyre gonna be even CRAZIER ones." YOU GO IN THAT HOLE AND LEARN NOTHING AND IM NOT EVEN MAD ABOUT IT. GO LOOK AT THE CRYSTAL TREE DOWN THIS RANDOM PATHWAY. i neeeed to make a terapagos post sometime and talk more about it i cannot stop thinking about this little freak. POKEMON THAT SCARE ME A LITTLE I MUST SAY. POKEMON I DO NOT FEEL IN CONTROL OF. i Know they didnt make its charged terastal form look like a dream catcher for no reason. I Know its Stellar Form Looking Like That isnt for no reason. I know its borderline dangerous power and THAT LITTLE STUNT IT PULLS. AT THE CRYSTAL POOL. THAT'S INDICATIVE OF SOMETHING I THINK. >when Terapagos's cry was the sound Terastalizing has been making all fucking game. SCREAMS.
also again oh my god if you beat the main indigo disk storyline go to the crystal pool right now GO. GO FEEL SOMETHING. GO!!!!
ok well that's. less about setting and more about story though huh. well!! story wise, absolutely loved it! I know there was a lot of apprehension when the DLCs got more properly announced and we found out they didnt really center on Our Dear Paldea Friends as scarvio proper did, and yeah I definitely can see why that's a frustration and a deterrent for some (and I'm soo so excited to hang out with Nemona and Arven and Penny in the epilogue next month....peach time (: ) but for me in the end I'm really just so enamored and delighted with all the new friends you get to make in the DLC and they more than carry that little narrative's arc on its own. The Elite 4 of the BB League are all GREAT, they got nonstop autistic girls out here in gen 9 (nemona, amarys, briar ?!??!) and it ROCKS. and i LOVE Carmine so much, everyone always wants mean rivals and mean women and folks cant even handle Carmine 🙄 you can tell she genuinely has such a big heart and cares about her friends and her brother!!! and Kieran wahhh wahh kieran my newest Little Guy ;____;.... he is SO fourteen and I did not expect to go into the DLC getting really invested in a new character's arc but it's just GOOD. He REALLY feels like a loose yugioh character in Indigo Disk, he's so angry and obsessed with victory and ultimately under it all still capable of so much kindness and regret and he's just GOOD. And his champion battle was terrifying and a BLAST!! THE MUSIC RULES. HE EVEN HAD INCINEROAR.
god and all the music in Indigo Disk was a banger. gen 9 music save me. gen 9 music. save me gen 9 music.
i'm SUPER hyped to do more BBQs with my bestie and do more postgame stuff with the "hanging out with Gym Leaders" thing and the Legendary hunting and such... lots more to roll around in and have a good time with. All in all had just a great time with it, I genuinely might put Violet as my favorite Pokemon game of all time at this point! I do grow very sad thinking about just how even more fantastic this game couldve been if it had 1-3 more years to cook properly though, like..god damn. I was getting some LAG on those cutscenes, and I know I made out pretty alright in the bugs department!!
but for now i'll just be thinking about the shit that happens at the crystal pool for the rest of my life. also Indigo Disk gave me the best possible trainer ID photo i never need to change it again
#TY FOR ASKING!!!! i do love talking pokemon especially scarvio stuff theres so much to unpack#and oh god i gotta talk about that fucking turtle#asks#anonymous#scarvio spoilers /#indigo disk spoilers /#pokemon chattering
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JUST NUKE THE SITE MISHIMA
whom among us has not seen an admin go on a deletion spree. it never works. it has never worked. just take down the site, phuckboy.
Sure, buddy, where would you like it, in your face or on your lap?
The Beige Front has come in and is forecast to be lingering for a while, because Akechi's got plans for everyone.
A lying clock is right twice a day, things are Extremely Bad.
That...... is actually really smart. Like, if the Thieves steal the heart of someone on the team, they can't publicize that.
For a guy who is going to stab us in the back SOMEHOW, Akechi is also a smart cookie.
Honestly not a stellar reason. Akechi states his sense of justice some from a deeply personal place, implying someone has wronged him or someone else (his mom?) enough to anchor his philosophy.
And again: revenge-driven personal justice is Bad. It is narratively satisfying in fiction, but it is really bad foundationally and I think P5R actually knows that and is playing with that.
... Wouldn't you know?
Now I'm questioning everything.
WHAT IS GOING ON. Once again everything gets fuzzy and Morgana and Reverie talk to Futaba, but we don't hear it.
....... The other time this happened was right after Akechi gave everyone the ultimatum at school, Morgana and Reverie talked then too.
.... So was that first-- OH wait. Wait. Framing device. Does this indicate something Reverie in the framing device is fudging and keeping from Sae?
Both of these are right after Akechi convos. And the game is not trying to make Akechi subtle at all, so: is Morgana already setting up things to keep Akechi from smothering Reverie with his stupid blue sweatervest?
And right after this, Futaba pulls a REALLY OBVIOUS scheme to get her hands on Akechi's phone and holds onto it for about two minutes.
fucking please, Futaba runs a custom OS on android hardware and Akechi uses apple, come on.
But yeah she's doing something to crack his phone. Hey, Futaba, while you're at it, check when the MetaNav showed up on his phone because I bet you it was way before Okumura.
Well that sure is a familiar sight. We are closing in on the framing device at a rapid pace.
God, that was so long ago. I remember being baffled at why shadows were showing up in the "real world" haha shows what I knew, which was fucking nothing.
Sae's Palace is the courthouse and the manifestation is rooted in Japan and its infamous 99.9% conviction rate. Which might not be a hard statistic, but it's kind of a Known Thing that if you go to court in Japan, you are probably Super Duper Fucked because it's so vanishingly rare for someone to avoid conviction.
So, to Sae, the courthouse is a casino where all the games are rigged in favor of the house. Of course.
okay sergeant pepper, sure thing
that is NOT your persona, are you KIDDING ME
I'm like fucking staggered. Like, that does not feel like Akechi's persona, it feels so off, like a joke he'd tell about his own inner self.
fucking Rob LIefeld's Robin Hood is hiding in Akechi's heart. alright.
/shakes head to self silently
Shadow Sae shows up directly to basically dare the Thieves to reach her Treasure, outlining exactly where it is. She's very confident that they won't be able to reach it.
Also, through this entire Palace, Makoto keeps trying to engage with Sae, to talk to her, and like.... Sae just ignores her and it's really sad. Like, damn, Sae, did you ever care?
ALLLLLLL the way back when Makoto was recruited, back when I thought she was the worst character (my how times have changed, she's only third worst), she used the MetaNav and found out Sae had a Palace, and apparently has been thinking about stealing her sister's heart since then.
It's rough.
ALSO: Shadow Sae hot. And I find it interesting that she has that heavy eyeliner thing going on because that is strongly associated with Reverie. It's an interesting little mirror.
The current team. Akechi looks good with the crow feathers, Haru is ADORABLE in that outfit, and Yusuke looks good in everything. Also Reverie is in Gekkoukan garb so I can have Mass Destruction and Wiping All Out. I know what I'm about.
ALSO I GOT HARU AND MONA'S SHOWTIME AND ITS THE BEST ONE. FUCK YES GRENADE LAUNCHER DRIVEBY. I love Haru.
The entire Palace revolves around a coin system. You can only get to higher floors with the use of coins, like buying your way into the high roller tables.
When the team reaches the final threshold, Shadow Sae cheats and raises the threshold to a million coins, and Akechi reveals he's been gaming the casino the entire time to ensure they'd have enough coins.
It's a shame you're evil, Beige Boy, because I've missed having smart people on my team. (Futaba and Yusuke excluded, they are the smartest ppl we got.)
You know, he didn't need to keep this secret the entire time. In fact, if he looped in Futaba in particular, she would have helped him game the system even more, I'm sure.
But the one thing that might be true about Akechi is that he's a dramatic showboating bastard.
Dunno if I shoulda called Sae being a corrupt prosecutor or not. That 99.9% win rate makes me wonder if it's just understood that the system is busted. Both Persona 5 and the Yakuza spinoff Judgement (and technically Phoenix Wright) are all concerned with that tidbit of information and how the justice system in Japan is set up.
Interesting. I lack the context to fully understand if this is a radical idea or not.
Anyway, the Palace is a wrap until the calling card. So let's send that sucker out!
Akechi says that oh actually, lets not send the calling card out until the last minute so we'll be sure it actually works. So we're sending it out on November 18.
Cool, cool, so Reverie should get his last will and testament completed by then, yep yep yep.
Here we go, hurtling towards the framing device like a runaway train with a beige conductor.
oh yeah, we doomed. the only question i have is will it be a stab in the back or in the heart. how homoromantic you gonna make this, Beige Boy? do you wanna stare into Reverie's pretty grey eyes as you kill him? I think that's your vibe, tbh.
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Quick! Tag your top favorite byler blogs (as many as you want) and tell my why you love them in one line to spread positivity on the dashboard and make someone's day!
FINALLY! THE TIME HAS COME!
this is in no particular order
first up. my wheelies. my ride or dies. call it traumabonding or whatever u want but these mfs know secrets of mine they better take to the grave
@hawkinsp0st, my first real friend on here. currently on hiatus but truly a kindred spirit. single-handedly changed the way i looked at the show with their hellfire color post. u simply get me and i miss ur brain!!
@ratt-duffer deserves so much more credit than you all give them. he just gets this show so well and has such well written analyses, but more than that, is just a fun fuckin person to exist around.
@willsglock my sister in glock. what can i say. she has permanently altered the way i think about brba and bcs. refreshingly honest in a way i wish more people were. occasionally breaks hearts w her writing.
@crazycoven no. 1 weezer stan in my heart ❤️ jk but fr hayden is such a cool person with some of the best themes and best takes on this site. very glad to know him
@tntozier deserves financial compensation for what theyve given to this tag. one of the brightest souls on here. everything he posts is a gift and u all should be so lucky 🤨 thank u for screaming abt st puzzle games and convincing me to download. i blame you for my crippling addiction.
ok onto some of my other favorite geniuses on here <3
@quinnick his energy??? immaculate. thank u for putting reddie content on my dash. u are so sweet and are the only valid ask hoarder. yes ofc i will send you more asks!! you deserve it!! even if you won’t stop making ur mom jokes.
@madcleradin just fucking gets it. she has never made a single post i did not wholeheartedly agree with. her understanding of the characters and the dynamics….phenomenal. also genuinely hilarious. very grateful to be mutuals w one sierra loveqbrl madcleradin
@mlchaelwheeler is a certified genius and is single-handedly responsible for getting me to restart succession. we don’t chat very often but when we do it is so much fun. she always puts such good posts i’ve never seen before on my dash and her analyses are genius. sarah’s blog is a gift to this site!!!
@chiquitablanquita changed my life with her poetry fic. i just. wow. wow. oh my god. yeah basically yeah. oh my god. i am in awe of you for the work u do outside of fandom and for the absolute insane talent u so gracefully share with us.
@eightieslesbian is The Gif Maker on here. her visions…holy shit. yes her gifs of my demos and the bitch meredith brooks gifset haunt my dreams bc she is the sweetest person on here and the fact that she DOWNLOADED MY MUSIC?? hello my heart is broken in two. but can we talk about HER original stuff?? HELLO?? she is so insanely talented and her vision is just….omg. OMG.
@elmaxed lumi and i don’t chat all that much but her brain is just so correct always and forever. her writing is wonderful and her energy is stellar. always happy to see her on my dash.
@wibble-wobbegong is such a fun blog to follow. he’s just such a cool dude and has such a nuanced understanding of mike. plus a great signature blog theme. dude has a BRAND, mad respect
@astrobei i cannot believe we are mutuals. i CANNOT BELIEVE we are mutuals. genuinely one of my favorite writers on ao3 and i still fangirl a little everytime we interact. like. the fics….holy shit. HOLY shit. she has such a firm understanding of the characters and has never written anything that doesn’t feel true to the show, regardless of AU or canon compliance. hanleia costume fic my beloved. good god they are such a talented writer.
@smoosnoom the scream i scrumpt when i got the follow notification. first fic writer i actually learned how to use the “subscribe” function on ao3 for. there are no words for the absolute batshit amount talent stored in this tumblr blog. ik y’all have read i’m tearing you asunder (cue “uh yeah, i’ve read the classics” tiktok audio) but every fic in their fix it series….jesus christ. run up that hill to go read rn.
@strangeswift is in a category of her own. abby u are a twin flame and i am so glad to know u. u simply understand me!! y’all she is such a fuckin phenomenal writer and is SO CEREBRAL in the way she approaches the show. her mike s4 pov snippets live rent free in my head. truly the only person who could get me to voluntarily read angst. NEVER misses with her takes and is just. so smart. SO SMART. the most supportive mfer on here fr. you guys aren’t ready for milevenvision or any of the other stuff you should be so lucky for abby to put out.
ok i could talk about my friends and moots for hours and i definitely DEFINITELY missed ppl but pls just know i follow blogs i love love love the content of and if we are mutuals i value u to the moon and back <333
#friendship is magic fr#also shoutout to georgia dungeons-are-too-cold who is NOT a byler blog but is one of my best friends#thank you for listening to me infodump about byler. i will do it more when i am home >:)#byler
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Lolo plays Call of Duty Modern Warfare (2019) for the first time, part 7! (Final part!!)
(this is an fps. Warnings for war, guns, violence and death. Dead dove etc etc.)
Mission 12: Old Comrades
What does this title mean???
I already said this in the previous post, but Price without a beard is so funny to me 😂
I love that like... Deep sniff??? That price does sometimes. Lol.
I had to restart because a door wouldn't open lol
I died.
Try 2: "I'm tracking you" "how?" "By gunshots of course" 😂 ok Nikolai, I didn't really know anything about you, but I'm feeling it.
I wrote almost nothing. That was so stressful!!
Yeah I opted out of that...
No way I was gonna watch them threaten a kid if I didn't have to.
You tell 'em Kyle. I mean, I get it Price... But also...
Mission 13: Going Dark
Price. You can't just send me in alone! I am a tiny baby! I don't know what the fuck I'm doing!!!and I died.
Try 2: fuck i died again...
Try 3: and again
Try 4: and again
I gotta say, I do love all the little canned responses Price has when he sees you kill someone or when he takes out a light.
Me: uses 10x more ammo than needed to take out a single guy.
Price: good shot.
Me: thanks I'm actually a pro.
Try 5: ok I got a lot further this time. But having to toggle the night vision goggles is really hard lol.. so I got blinded and died.
Try 6: they keep surrounding me!!!!
Try 7:ok I finally got to Hadir!
Why do people I'm playing keep falling off of burning wreckage????
And in Tunnels that are collapsing!!!!
Ok but we got Hadir out.
Mission 14: Into the Furnace
Look at Price's slutty little walk with his arms out lol
Price knew Alex would be with Farah... We all know. 😎
"If barkov there. He's mine." Girl me too!
NICEEEE I'm playing Alex again.
Ok I got very far before dying lol
Try 2: listen I already know how this ends.... So each time I die as Alex I'm just a little sad...
Try 3: holy shit this big dude is impossible to kill!!
Oh no no no 😭😭😭😭
Alex 😭😭😭😭
(do I know that in some way, he comes back in another game.... Yes... But do I know the particulars? No. And I really like Alex... I don't want to watch him die)
"you're a freedom fighter Alex"
"you're a born leader Farah. Say the word."
😭😭😭😭😭
Ok back to Gaz!!
I died twice in rapid succession. So uh...
Try 5: i-
Ok...
Try 6: lol
Oh gosh dang it!!
Try 7: this really is the last level, huh??? Lol
Oh my GOD!
Try 8: I can't even move a STEP.
Try 9:
Farah you clever clever girl!!!!!!
Ah, too quick lol
Try 10: dang it again???
Try 11: So crawling towards Barkov is no... Running toward him is no.... Maybe just wait???
Try 12: ok that didn't work lol
What do I DO???
Oh. I feel stupid now lol
Got em!!
Buh bye Barkov.
Did I... Did I just finish that game??
Oh Alex... He's got a stellar mustache, I'm sad to see it go...
Ohhhhh task force 141 being formed 💕💕💕
Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. There they are!!!
Final thoughts???
I had a lot of fun!
Thank you for indulging me lol
Now I know more about that characters... Still feel like I have to play the second game before I write any fanfic, but hey. I guess I could write some Alex/Farah??? Or Price/Gaz???
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i need to tell you. like i've never really been into rwby? i felt like i should have, since i got my name from there way back when it was just the colour trailers and the names had just been revealed, but when i actually tried to watch it i kinda didn't get it. so when i noticed you posting rwby content i was like "oh this is perfect, i can still experience the name media even without watching it!" and i had to watch in real time as you fell for shipping that qrow/clover(?) dude and just how high your hopes were for the writing before the whole. died in front of the bi flag thing.
i hope you posting rwby again means it's gotten better! <- i know nothing about whatever the story is aside from your posts and. memes that ruby is homophobic?????????
Oh god yeah, the whole Fair Game debacle a while back...that was a lot of bad, impulsive decisions from animators, voice actors and fans coming together to create a huge cluster fuck of a situation that was absolutely unnecessary and completely avoidable if everyone involved had just stopped and thought for a second
Like, we all got swept up in the excitement of gay rep when the intention was there to be a bit of a tense rivalry and the crew responded to that without consulting each other apparently and it ended up being...well, what you probably witnessed
And RT themselves aside (they suck as always), CRWBY seem to be making an effort to make up for that situation by leaving absolutely no doubt about the Bees this volume
And I have to admit, it's a really good volume. Not just cuz of the Bees being canon but because of their approach to trauma. Cuz I watched the last episodes and I was absolutely floored by Ruby's response to her experiences and how...familiar the things she said felt to me. It really feels like they sat down, said "how can we be better?" and then did it
Not to go too far down the rabbit hole here but seeing Ruby go through this volume seeming more like a bystander than an active part of the story despite never leaving the story hit hard for someone who knows exactly what that feels like
While everyone else is moving forward she's stuck in one place, weighted down by regrets and loss and too much responsibility, watching everyone move farther away from her, and it all comes to a head in the current episode in a way that's both shocking and believable
I'm still cautiously excited cuz CRWBY are people and people are messy and make mistakes but so far this volume is some stellar work, definitely one of the best
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so having finally seen the 2nd Sonic movie, here’s my thoughts:
if these movies weren’t Sonic movies, they’d genuinely be nothing to write home about. like, for a video game adaptation they’re pretty stellar, but that. does not say much skdgjsdg
Idris Elba really nailed Knuckles, absolutely the high point
Robotnik and Stone... gay
the CGI is. kinda spotty? it’s also rather stiff, especially when they’re in a scene with any humans, which i think is like. them trying to make them more realistic? compare the movie with the short, and it’s really noticeable
the human characters are great, i fucking love all of them
it’s definitely a franchise i’m going to keep up with, especially since Sonic works really well for this kind of franchise. like, there’s so many plots they can incorporate, and i’m really excited to see Shadow in the next one!
the heart of these movies are, for sure, the relationship between Sonic (and co) and the humans. i was watching them both with my mom, and she vastly preferred the 1st one, since the start of the 2nd barely focused on the relationship. and yeah, as fun as it was, seeing Sonic and Tails do stuff on screen, it definitely picked up in the latter half
did i mention Knuckles was the best part of this whole movie because oh my god he was
i kind of feel like they didn’t use Tails very well? like, i don’t know. hopefully they more with him in later movies
Tails does get to have a gun though, which. yes. good. it’s what he deserves
i want them to adapt the 2006 plot so badly it’d be so fun
if Metal Sonic doesn’t appear in the next movie i am throwing hands show me my boy!!!
Detective Pikachu is still better, sorry not sorry (but, Sonic works way better as a franchise, whereas a 2nd DP isn’t particularly needed. like i’d watch it. but i think it being a stand alone thing works best)
#ze.txt#also that scene with super sonic and the chili dog made me think about wukong so that's like. five thousand plus points#actually the whole super sonic bit was cool as fuck#and the moment the military people were confirmed as gun i slapped my knee like I KNEW IT HELL YEAH#so like. you know
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Very Quick Little Positive Recap for 2022
Once again very last minute but I am determined to keep up this tradition even a little bit. So here we go in no particular order, some positive things from the last year.
Glass Onion holy shit what a film what a good time for it what a stellar gem
There's that Respect for Marriage Act that just got passed, which is great
Going off of that, even though Roe got overturned, there has been such an outpouring of support and fire to get something even stronger put into place, just like the Respect for Marriage Act did.
And the $10,000 student loan forgiveness? Holy shit. Yeah it's being stalled for the time being, but it's a matter of time at this point, and payment will continue to be deferred without interest which is such a help to so many people.
Greta Thunberg roasting that trafficker so hard he gives his location away lmao
Doctor Who finished out Thirteenth Doctor's run this year! And while I have some mixed feelings about certain things, man did she go out with a bang.
Plus personally, I read SO much Doctor Who stuff in the first half of the year.
AND I wrote a Doctor Who fic! And posted it! After years of never posting anything properly on a fanfic site!
We got so many new shows and movies oh my god I can't even list them all but aside from Glass Onion we got Sonic the Hedgehog 2, Turning Red, The Legend of Vox Machina, Moon Knight, Ms. Marvel, The Woman King, Nope, Wakanda Forever, Thor Love and Thunder, THE OWL HOUSE HOLY FUCK
She Hulk brought my boy Matt Murdock some serotonin for once
THE SANDMAN WE GOT THE SANDMAN HOLY SHIT WHAT A GOOD SHOW AND WE GOT A SEASON 2 CONFIRMED
Plus we got first looks at Good Omens season 2
Got into D&D thanks to a work club and got to experience a module for the first time which was so much fun.
And with that I got into Critical Role in full force and that's also been such a fun time that will continue to be a great ride.
Spy x Family??? Amazing
10 years since Merlin ended and it still toppled all the ship lists and dominated the trending charts in December.
Pokemon Legends Arceus AND Scarlet/Violet dropped this year and despite the glitches in both, have opened the doors to open world style Pokemon games and more complex storytelling that hasn't been seen for a while.
Completed a Camp NaNo July goal and beat my personal record for NaNo proper in terms of word count.
I experienced a lot of new places this year personally which has been a great time.
Some close friends I know have done some incredible things during 2022 and so proud of them.
And I am probably forgetting things but there were a lot of things to enjoy in 2022. As with every year there is a mixed bag of good things and bad things but there has definitely been stuff to feel good about.
Here's to 2023!
#flowerspeak#positive#new years#2022#2023#shh it's still 2022 in central mountain and Pacific time#i started late and it's technically past midnight but still had to keep up the tradition#2022 has been a rollercoaster but that's really every year#gotta hold onto hope for 2023
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𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟕𝐤
𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚
Tuesday, 13 December 2017
Tooley Street was always busy, whether there were a horde of people walking to and from the riverside and underground, or cars driving by at a ridiculous speed. London Bridge station on the other side of the road to where Y/N and the gang sat at Caffé Nero, looked like a small insect in comparison to The Shard that reached like a pillar above the partly cloudy winter sky. The blue painted brick building beside it, The Shipwright Arms pub, was a lively addition to an otherwise very bleak street.
The winter wind by the riverside was horrendous, but Y/N had offered to come with Annalise on her cigarette break, so she had only herself to blame for exposing herself to more of the biting cold than completely necessary. From where the two were sitting, they could just make out Tower Bridge behind them, bare trees rising up along the streets that indicated summer was long gone and winter had arrived.
Y/N had spent a lot of time just sitting outside the last few days. Whether it was on a bench by Regent’s Canal, in the grass at Shoreditch Park, or at a table outside a café with a coffee in hand. She had just been sitting there, staring out at nothing. Thinking. All she had been doing since finding that watch was think.
She had tried to find some kind of logical explanation as to why that watch had the coordinates for her family’s Newport cabin, but there was none. What kind of connection did George have to Newport? To that cabin? Had he just fucked her and left it there because he knew who Y/N’s sister was? And where was George now? She had not seen him since that night in October, was he still around? Or had Y/N just missed him when he had been, and this had all just been a huge coincidence. But Y/N somehow knew, deep down, that this was far from a coincidence and she should not treat it as one.
“You have to come to Monnickendam,” Annalise said, blowing out a puff of white smoke.
Y/N looked away from a man across the street who was arguing passionately with someone on his phone. Shoving the thoughts of the watch that was laid on her desk in her room, out of her head. She had not told anyone about it, this was not something she wanted everyone to know about because she had no idea what it meant. The only person that knew was Harry, and she would like to keep it that way.
“I’ve never been to the Netherlands,” Y/N said.
“Even more of a reason to come.”
Y/N smiled. “Buzzing. I haven’t travelled much in Europe, mostly been to Brazil with my family.”
“When you come to Monnickendam, we have to take the train to, like, Germany or France. Andorra is also so beautiful, I think you’re gonna love it.”
“Make a roadtrip out of it.”
“Exactly.”
Y/N’s smile grew. “Had you been to London before you came here for school?”
Annalise brought the cigarette up to her mouth. “Loads of times.”
“Really?”
“Yes, we went here around Easter in 2012 the first time, and I fell in love. Went here four more times, then to an Open Day last year.”
Y/N nodded. “Was Helmond your first choice then? Did you like it the best?”
“No, Battersea was, but I’m happy I ended up at Helmond.” Annalise breathed out white vapour. “Helmond’s prettier.”
Y/N laughed. “The aesthetic is more important than the uni itself, innit? If you can’t take decent Instagram pictures there, what’s the point of spending the next three years at that place?”
Annalise laughed along with Y/N, taking a last drag. “I rarely use Instagram.”
“I used to. I loved to like document my life, to let all my friends and family know what I was doing at all times. But then I found Snapchat, and it’s just better.”
“You know that if you, like, save a picture or video in the Snapchat app, Snapchat owns it?”
Y/N blinked.
“At least what someone at home told me once.”
“Doesn’t Instagram do the same?” Y/N asked.
“Think so,” Annalise said, walking over to the litter and stumping her cigarette out in the ash tray on top of it. “Ground rule: don’t save anything onto social media. Anyone can save and see your pictures.”
“Basically,” Y/N mumbled, looking over at the man she had watched earlier. He was still arguing with someone over the phone.
“Ready to head back inside?” Annalise asked.
“Yeah.” Y/N got up and the two strolled back over to the Caffé Nero their three other mates were sat in. Thian, Hayden, and Chloe were all sat with their laptops in front of them and books in the centre of the table behind their screens. Chloe was talking animatedly as Y/N and Annalise approached, Hayden busy with something on the laptop in front of them while Thian sat with a book in his hands, looking at Chloe as she spoke. Y/N took off her puffer jacket, hanging it off the back of her chair as she sat down, adjusting her black V-neck jumper and loose denim jeans.
“…the problem isn’t that. The problem is the fact that they never clean up after themselves. That’s the problem,” Chloe said, groaning loudly. “And when I ask in the flat groupchat if anyone wanna be social, no one answers. I swear, all of them hate me.”
“Maybe they’re just busy,” Thian suggested.
“They always say that, but I know two of the boys are in Dave’s room playing something on that PlayStation.” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. “Should I learn how to play FIFA?”
“You don’t have to impress them,” Y/N said, turning her laptop back on to finish the essay for Critical Reading that was due that Friday.
“No, I know. But if I want to hang out with anyone in my flat, I gotta do something. What games do you play in the PlayStation, Thian?”
Thian stared at Chloe for a second, mouth working before he mumbled, “I didn’t bring one to uni.”
“Alright, then what did you play at home?”
“Call of Duty.”
Chloe scrunched up her nose. “Isn’t that a war game?”
“Yeah.”
“Nah, I’m not into that.” Chloe grimaced, looking at something further away. “I’ve never really played PlayStation. One of the blokes I dated in college gamed a lot, but I couldn’t be asked to sit around and just watch.”
“The three in my flat play GTA,” Y/N said. “At least that’s what Nathan wants to play, Harry and Mason just go along.”
Chloe’s face instantly lit up. “Oh, my word, Y/N. You have to make Harry teach me how to play something on the PlayStation.”
There was a slight pang in Y/N’s chest at the sound of his name leaving Chloe’s lips in that way. Y/N opened, then closed her mouth, then opened it again. “I don’t really hang out with them when they play it. I’ve had so much to do these past months.”
“That’s fine, Nathan can keep us company,” Chloe said, leaning back in her seat. “Make Mason come, too. God-“ She grinned, letting her head fall between her shoulder blades. “-Your flatmates are fit.”
“Harry’s fitter than Mason,” Hayden chimed in.
“No, definitely Mason,” Annalise said.
“I can’t choose. Depends on my mood,” Chloe mused.
Thian kept quiet, staring pointedly at his laptop.
“Can you do it? Make them teach me?” Chloe begged, sticking her bottom lip out at Y/N.
Y/N took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
Chloe grinned.
“They might be busy, too. Might not get to it till after Christmas break.”
Chloe waved her hand. “That’s fine. I just want to hang out with someone from my flat eventually.”
Y/N glanced down at her laptop again, trying to forget the conversation she had just had with the other three. Chloe continued chattering on about something of no significance, Y/N did not care to listen as she wanted to finish her essay before she had to leave for home coming Saturday. Though her coffee was cold now as she took a sip of it, Y/N still appreciated the taste of caffeine. It woke her up, made her more alert and focused.
Ever since she was seven years old, her papai had made her coffee to drink. He always said “coffee is as vital to a Brazilian’s existence as tea is to a Brit’s” and she had drunk it ever since. She loved the taste of it much more than tea, but seeing as tea was much easier to make, she had come to resort to it here in London. Home in Nottingham, there was always a brew in the making or one ready for whoever felt like having a cup, made with a proper coffee machine that Davi had invested proper money in. He had bought it back in 2001, and it worked just as well as it did back then. Y/N, like her papai, loved the coffee from that old coffee maker more than anything else. She could not wait until she was home with her parents so she could drink proper coffee all the time without going to the nearest coffee shop to do so. The instant coffee Nathan often made smelled and tasted rank, Y/N would have no other coffee than her papai’s and a cup made at a coffee shop.
“I’m gonna go buy a muff,” Hayden said, getting up from their chair. “This essay is doing my head in, I need something to sooth the pain.”
“Oh, could you buy me a scone?” Thian asked, putting his hands together as if he was begging on his knees. “I’ll pay with five stellar knock knock jokes.”
“Make it six.”
“Deal.”
The two shook hands and Hayden grinned as they looked at the other three. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”
Y/N and Annalise chuckled. “No thanks,” Y/N said, Annalise saying the same thing.
“No, I’ll just add to this,” Chloe said, patting at her stomach.
“Add to what?” Hayden asked.
“A belly.” Chloe gripped the little that was protruding from her tight denim jeans. “I’m trying to start working out for bikini season, to remove that extra uni weight, you know?”
Hayden looked absolutely lost, so did Thian, and Annalise looked to not be paying any attention at all. Y/N, however, felt a familiar pang in her chest. It was a small explosion she had felt before, one that would taint the rest of her day. Instinctively, she put her scarf around her chest, letting it fall over her stomach.
Hayden did not comment, instead they just walked up to the till, ready to tell the lady working there their order. The table fell silent, but not for the reason Y/N wanted it to. No, they were all just busy with their essays. Y/N knew that it would be impossible for her to concentrate on the assignment now that the only thing she would be thinking about for the rest of the day was Chloe’s comment. Chancing a look over at her friend, she saw her flicking through a book in her lap, completely unbothered, Annalise was cocking her head to the side as she wrote something on her Mac, while Thian was watching Hayden pay for their food. None of them had batted an eyelash. Which was nothing new, Y/N was used to no one picking up on covered up fatphobic comments.
She knew that Chloe had not said those things with her in mind, that the statement had been about her own body only. But Y/N could not help but feel the comment in her very soul. She could remember her mates from school in Nottingham making comments similar to that one, so hearing it wasn’t alien, but it stung as much as hearing it that first time.
“Here we go,” Hayden said, putting the scone down on Thian’s keyboard.
“Scones are so bloody good,” Thian moaned, taking a huge bite out of his. “If we had to fuck a food, I’d fuck scones.”
The table went quiet, all looking at Thian. He just continued on eating, humming some Alesso and Conor Maynard song that was always playing on the radio.
“Why did you just say that?” Hayden asked.
“Felt like sharing my thoughts with the class.”
Hayden raised their eyebrows before looking at the laptop in front of them. “The class did not need to know.”
Thian shrugged his shoulders and Annalise laughed, Chloe joining in after a little while. Y/N smiled at them, but her thoughts still drifted back to Chloe’s comments just a minute earlier. She spread her scarf out over her stomach, wishing she had worn something that wasn’t so tight fitted.
Friday, 15 December 2017
“Sorry we’re late,” Mason said as him and the rest of the rugby team streamed into the seminar room. Hayden, Y/N, Thian, Chloe, Annalise, Nathan, and Annalise’s two friends were all sat around one table, already having started a round of Uno.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Hayden smiled. “I’ve put Uno decks on the other tables.”
“Cheers.”
Mason and the rest of the team sat down, all chatting amongst themselves and letting go of heavy sighs as they took their seats. It was clear that the last training session for the team this year had not only been cold, but also immensely tiring. They all looked very ready to travel home for Christmas break, and it looked like a few already had.
Y/N felt their struggle with the cold. She herself was wearing a mini linen skater dress in black. The skirt was loose, making it comfortable to hide her belly in – she had not stopped thinking about Chloe’s comment all week, but it would not stop her from looking really fucking good – and the waist was open, baring some of her skin and rib tattoo to everyone. Her skin protruded around the straps that were wrapped around her waist, connecting her skirt from her top, but there was nothing she could do about it, so she just tried to stay out of Chloe’s vision. The plunge neck revealed a very deep cleavage and skin, making it so Y/N had put on two silver necklaces to top of the outfit. The rest of the top had long sleeves and a nice collar, which was why Y/N had bought the dress. It was slutty, but in a modest way.
The rest of the gang around the table had also dressed up, ready to go out after this. They all had their last lecture of the semester today, meaning that their Christmas break had just started, and they wanted to celebrate before everyone travelled to their separate locations the next day. Chloe to Oxford, Thian to Bristol, Hayden to Sheffield, Annalise to Monnickendam, and Y/N back home to Nottingham. It would be weird not to meet up with them, to not go to lectures and stress about assignments for the next month. Then again, Annalise had made a Snapchat and Messenger group to ensure that the gang would talk every single day. And knowing her mates, Y/N was sure they would.
During a break between rounds, Y/N got up from their table after making sure that her polyamide shorts underneath her dress didn’t roll down her stomach. She wore them to prevent chafing, knowing that if she did not wear them underneath her skirt, it would be hard for her to wear anything the next day. She did the zip of her chunky sock boots before making her way over to Mason’s table.
“Alright, Y/N?” Mason said as she came closer, giving her a small smile.
“How’re you lot finding the society?” she asked, looking around the table, meeting Kai’s eyes.
Kai beamed. “Good, it’s nice to spend some time with the whole team off the rugby pitch.”
“You’re dressed up,” Mason pointed out. “What’s the occasion?”
“Uno Society.”
Mason smiled. “Trying to pull some rugby players, are ya?”
“No. No, rugby players.”
Mason only raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe her, smile widening.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re just as unbearable as Harry sometimes.”
“Nah, Harry’s worse than me.”
“Right.” Y/N took a big breath. “Chloe over there, the blonde,” Y/N said, motioning behind her with a nod of her head. Mason’s gaze immediately fell on Chloe. “She’s wondering if you and Harry can teach her how to play the PlayStation.”
Mason blinked, looking over at Kai as the bigger man clapped his hands together before laughing.
“Is that funny?” Y/N asked.
“No, it’s not. I just knew Kai would react like that,” Mason said. “But I’ll do it. After Christmas at some point.”
“Nice, I’ll tell her that, then.”
“Why does she need someone to teach her how to play PlayStation?” Kai asked, and though there was laughter in his voice, Y/N could tell his question was sincere.
“Some blokes in her flat never want to be social, they just stay in this one room playing PlayStation, and she’s kinda left out ‘cause she doesn’t really know how to play.”
“That might not work out,” Kai said, smiling still.
“Worth a shot, either way.”
“Maybe she just wanna spend time with this hunk,” Kai grinned, putting a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Or the other hunk that’s not here.”
“Speaking of him,” Y/N said, putting a hand on her hip. “Not that I care, but where is he?”
Kai grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You don’t care? Not at all?”
“No, Y/N doesn’t like Harry much,” Mason explained, completely unbothered. “He’s working. The team’s popping by The Stag’s Head later to check on him since it’s his last shift and all that.”
Y/N nodded, suddenly remembering how Harry had told her that a few weeks ago.
“What’s the bellend done to you?” Kai asked.
“Another time, Kai. We’re in the middle of a round,” Mason said. “I’ll find a day that’s good for Chloe to come over.”
“Wicked,” Y/N smiled. “See ya.”
“Later, mate.”
Y/N walked back to her table, sitting down in her seat again. “Sorry,” she said when Hayden gave her a look. “Chloe, Mason said he could teach you how to play PlayStation sometime after Christmas break.”
Chloe squealed. “Really?!”
“Yeah, he’ll text me saying when.”
“Ahh! Buzzing!”
Y/N gave her a smile before the gang went back to playing.
Though she was physically present over the next hour or so, Y/N’s mind travelled back to the flat and the watch on her desk. Besides assignments, Christmas, and what Chloe said on Tuesday, that was all Y/N had spent her time thinking about. She would be in bed, about to go to sleep, then just get out of her bed and look at the watch, study it carefully. Maybe there was another message of sorts on it, maybe she was supposed to do something with it. But other days she did not want to touch that watch. There was something about it, something about how it had just been left in her possession so casually, something about the fact that she had not seen George since that night, that did not sit right with Y/N at all.
Throughout the rest of the night, after the Uno Society, while the gang was sat at a pub, and then dancing at a club later, Y/N could not bring herself to enjoy herself thoroughly. All her energy went back to that watch. She wanted to understand what it meant, why George had it, and what she was supposed to do with the information. Was she even supposed to do anything at all? It only made her want to travel down to Newport even more. She had to now. Her parents might think about getting rid of that cabin, but Y/N had to revisit it one last time before that happened.
Y/N did not drink that night; she was afraid of the conspiracy theories she would form if she did. She had one cocktail at the pub they went to, but could not do more than that, and her mates did not ask questions as to why she was not drinking, something she really appreciated. It was late when she announced she would be going home, and so she called Nathan and made him stay on the line with her as she took the tube back to Haggerston Station. Once she reached Orsman Road, she could hear his snores on the other end, and hung up halfway down the road to the flat. However, in the distance, she saw a stag’s head sign hanging out on a metal pole, protruding from the building opposite her flat building. She suddenly remembered what Mason said, and crossed the road, making her way over to the pub.
A small group of lads made their way out of the pub as Y/N reached it, the last one holding the door for her. She smiled and thanked him before walking inside. Now that she wasn’t affected by alcohol, Y/N was finally able to take in the pub properly without having the slight haze of alcohol taint it. The lights were comfortably dimmed, not too much so you could not read the menu, but just enough so that a person’s facial features would be a tad blurry. The red that ran along the wall behind the dark bar counter was subtle, giving the bar a sense of holding onto the secrets of each person who walked through the front doors, like a Victorian murder mystery. Y/N could see Sweeney Todd’s barber shop trapped in the same colours.
“Excuse me, miss,” a man walking out from behind the counter said, grey hair and broad shoulders. “We’re closed.”
“Oh,” she said, looking around the dark pub. “I… I thought I might find Harry here.”
The man narrowed his eyes a little. “He’s got a new girlfriend? So soon after the other ones?”
Y/N felt herself narrow her eyes back at the man. Girlfriend? Harry’s had girlfriends – plural – since he started working in The Stag’s Head? There was a very strange combination of a lot of different feelings that swarmed around Y/N’s body, suddenly making her feel seasick. She was about to abort her mission, to say she would just catch Harry at home, when there came a voice from the door leading out into the smoking area.
“Y/N,” Harry said, turning the lights off outside and closing the door. It looked as if he could not quite believe his eyes as he saw her standing there, like he had not thought she would ever show up to his work like this. Without seemingly able to help himself, his green eyes fell down to her green dress and her exposed legs. He quickly looked to his other co-worker, clearing his throat as he walked behind the pub counter. Y/N could swear she saw a slight pink hue to his cheekbones.
“I’ll leave if you’re busy.”
“No,” Harry said, the word coming out a little too quickly as if desperation got the better of him. “No. Not busy.”
The grey-haired man raised his eyebrows at Harry. He must have seen something in Harry’s demeanour, because he said, “You’ll be alright to close up on your own?”
Harry smiled. “It’ll be a nice way to end my time at Stag’s Head.”
“Nice,” the man Y/N now suspected was Harry’s boss, said. “Pop by with the keys tomorrow, will ya?”
“Yes, sir.”
The man gave both Harry and Y/N a smile each before he started on his walk up to his office. The pub was suddenly very quiet, not a single sound came from inside, just the distant siren outside and the low buzz of the city. A place that was usually bustling with noise, energy, and anticipation, was now left with the latter. Y/N looked around the place, unsure of what to do with herself now that it was only her and Harry there. Harry watched her, picking up the Cif spray from where it stood under the counter. She felt his gaze on her as she walked along the booths, touching the red velvet cushions, a rush of goosebumps travelling up her spine at the knowledge that she had his full attention.
She turned around, leaning her bum against a table as she took in the liquor behind Harry. He was washing the counter, looking over at Y/N again, eyes falling to her mid-area that was expanded slightly at the pressure the surface behind her was providing. He quickly looked away again, biting his lips together as he focused on the counter in front of him. Y/N could not help a small smile.
“What made you show up to my work, then?” he asked.
“Can’t a friend show up to another friend’s work?”
Harry let out a strangled chuckle. “Alright. That’s very nice of you, but I don’t buy that for a single second.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You don’t?”
“There’s gotta have been another reason as to why.”
“Okay…? What’s that?”
Harry shrugged his shoulder, spraying more Cif onto the counter. “You were bored. You didn’t want to be around your other mates any longer. You wanted to see a delicious man with an irresistible Northern accent clean up a pub since it’s his last shift ever here tonight.”
Y/N let out a laugh, placing her hands on either side of the table beside her. “None of the above.”
“Alright,” Harry said, coming out from behind the pub. “What didn’t I cover?”
“You weren’t at the Uno Society meeting.”
The answer came so effortlessly, as if her subconscious had been holding onto the answer for Y/N until she was strong enough to know the real reason. Her hands instantly gripped the table harder, feeling embarrassed for admitting vulnerability so easily. She blamed how easy it was to talk to him, how he just seemed to throw a lasso around her deepest secrets, her most private desires, and drag them out of her.
Harry looked over at her from where he was cleaning the tables a bit further away in the pub. “Had work. Would’ve been there if I didn’t have to be here.”
She nodded, looking down at her black boots. For some reason, his words warmed something inside her. Hearing someone care about something she cared about made her feel special. Then again, someone she just met on the street could tell her they hated Marmite, something Y/N also did, and she would feel equally as fuzzy inside. Finding small bonds, small preferences, small somethings that connected you to other people, made you feel like you weren’t alone, but it also made you feel special, made you feel seen and understood. It was as if someone opened a door into their soul, and giving you a warm handshake, welcoming you into them and their life.
“The lads had a blast,” Harry said, now closer to Y/N as she had zoned out for a minute and some.
“They did?”
“Yeah, it’s nice to just sit down and relax like that. We don’t really get to do that.”
Y/N watched as Harry hovered by a table, leaning over it to clean it. His black tee shirt stretched over his broad back, his shoulder blades visibly working as he ran the cloth over the table in front of him. The outline of his muscles, the way they were so hard against the soft fabric of the tee shirt, made Y/N’s body feel very hot all of a sudden. He worked so carefully, sliding his hand holding the cloth so slowly over the table, paying it his undivided attention. She adjusted her position against her table, looking away from Harry as he stood back up, his black trousers that had been tight around his buttocks, slacking at the lack of pressure on the material. Get a fucking grip, Y/N screamed at herself in her head, focusing on the wall in front of her. She saw Harry look at her over his shoulder, gaze lingering on her for a few seconds. Y/N suddenly found it very hard to draw a proper breath.
“You’re mad I didn’t show up?” Harry asked.
Y/N was silent, her brain completely blank. “Didn’t show up…?”
She could see his smug smile in her peripheral vision. “Yeah.”
“To what?”
His smile widened and he focused on a table closer to her. “The Uno Society.”
She closed her eyes. Her checking out Harry while he had his back to her had not just made her forget the whole reason why she had showed up to The Stag’s Head in the first place. His body looking the way it did, him caring about the society, him teasing her to get a reaction out of her… Why the fuck did he have that effect on her?
“No,” Y/N said, refusing to look at him still. “I’m not mad.”
“Then why won’t you look at me right now?”
Y/N could feel her hands instinctively grabbing harder onto the table behind her. “No reason.”
“You know,” Harry started, she could hear the smirk in his voice. “You can try all you want, but I still know you.”
She huffed. “You wish.”
“I don’t gotta,” he said, chuckling a little. “Don’t gotta wish when I already do know you. Wish I knew you better, wish you’d just open up to me like you did so easily before, but that’s for a later time.”
That made her look over at Harry, her eyebrows drawn together as she just watched him clean yet another table. He… Did he really think she would one day open up to him again and they would go back to being friends like they used to? Was he really that optimistic? Had he thought about it? About them and their friendship? And what a future with her alongside him at uni would look like? Her eyes landed on his bicep as it flexed, holding his body weight as he leaned against the table again. Her gaze following his arm all the way down to his hand, long slender fingers wrapped around the edge of the table, and the thick veins over the dorsal part of his hand made something in Y/N’s brain short circuit. That along with the casual way he was leaning his hips against the table, staring down at it with his head cocked.
What the fuck, Y/N said to herself again, looking away from him. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?! How was she supposed to stay neutral, to not find him attractive, to not want to sink right back into old habits when she allowed herself to study him and look at him like that. She had to stop. This was getting out of hand.
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet tonight,” Harry said, working slowly as he cleaned up the table in the booth beside the one she was stood leaning against.
“No, I’ve just got things on my mind.”
“What things?”
Your broad shoulders. Your hands. The way you stick your tongue out of your mouth when you are concentrating. But Y/N said none of those things, as doing so would sentence her to a lifetime of humiliation.
“Insignificant things.”
“When they’re taking up a lot of space in your head and preventing you from being present, they’re not insignificant,” Harry said, sounding a little serious all of a sudden. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, there’s nothing inherently bad on my mind, just… I’ve got a lot of… thoughts,” Y/N said, not knowing how else to explain it without giving something away.
“What thoughts?”
Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Thought you did Architectural Studies, didn’t know you also had a degree in being Nosy.”
Harry let out a laugh, coming to stand in front of her with the spray and the cloth in his hands. “I’m very nosy.”
“Glad to hear you’re self-aware.”
“But right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Bloody hell, Y/N thought, could he just fucking stop being so nice? So fucking adorable? And fit? It made hating him so much harder than it already was.
“I’m okay.”
He took a step closer. “What’s been on your mind then?”
“Just… life.”
“Has uni exhausted you?”
“Yeah, but it’s not what I’m thinking about.”
Harry took another step closer. Y/N’s palms were suddenly very clammy.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked again, a small smile on his lips as if he was challenging her.
“Maybe you just have to face the fact that I won’t tell you and you can’t figure it out on your own.”
“Nah,” Harry said. “I’ll figure you out.”
Y/N watched as Harry took another step closer, her heart suddenly beating very fast inside her chest.
“I just gotta…” He trailed off, now standing directly in front of her. Tip of his shoes against the tip of hers. Without a warning of sorts, he leaned closer, bending over her until his head hovered beside her own. Chest wavering above hers, touching as she drew in a precipitous breath and he did the same. Their bodies did not brush against one another again, an invisible, burning shield was built to keep them apart the second their upper bodies made contact. As if the universe was telling them that by touching like that, the world would go up in total flames around them.
Harry’s sudden closeness made her breathe in a little too harshly, she was sure he must have heard it but she simply did not care. The reaction her body was having to him being so close was electric, it made all the hairs on her body stand on end. She didn’t know what he was doing that close to her, thinking at first that he must have wanted to whisper something in her ear, to say something to her that would undoubtedly make her glad she was leaning against something solid for support.
But she heard the familiar sound of the Cif spray, and a second later, Harry reached his cloth behind Y/N’s back, cleaning the table. She felt his breath against her neck, triggering something radioactive inside her. The oud aroma of his cologne, with notes of cedar, patchouli, and spicy saffron filled Y/N’s nostrils. In those seconds when Harry hovered above her like that, his warm body inches from hers, breath fanning against her skin, his aroma, and aura mere inches from hers, Y/N was conflicted as to if she wanted time to speed up or slow down some more. She knew that if she stayed like that, with Harry so close to her, for much longer she would go absolutely mad and have an impossible time resisting him if he were to try something like he had done in the living room the week before.
No sooner had she thought that, he pushed off, face lingering just centimetres from hers. “I just need to take a look,” he said, speaking as if he did not mind if the whole world was watching them. He raised his hand, about to touch her chin. For what reason, Y/N did not know, but she didn’t ask any questions. However, he stopped, as if touching her was something he could not do. Y/N was glad he hadn’t, because God knows how her body would have reacted had he tenderly touched her jawline like it looked like he wanted to.
“Take a look?” Y/N mumbled.
“At you.”
A small breath left her lips.
“Maybe the answer to what’s been on your mind is somewhere in your eyes,” he said, eyes suddenly falling to her lips. “Or your lips.” He glanced at her forehead. “Or in the slight lines that appear between your eyebrows when you’re deep in thought.” He looked down at her hands on the table edge. “Or the way you’re gripping the table so tight right now.”
Jesus Christ, she was about to explode. Y/N let go of it immediately, standing up and forcing Harry to take two steps back. His intense glance lingered on her, falling to her lips as she opened her mouth to take a breath.
“It’s getting late,” she said, fingering the hem of her leather jacket as her heart continued to hammer away inside her chest.
“Wait for me, yeah?” Harry walked over to the next table to clean it, doing it way faster than all the other ones. Biting his lip and moving his hand with the cloth over the table as if to make up for time spent on something else, cleaning very slowly and standing too close to her.
“No, I can walk home by myself.”
“I know you’re capable of walking, but I don’t like you being out in the streets all alone late at night.”
Y/N looked over at Harry as he cleaned the last booth, seeing the determination to finish as quickly as possible.
“It’s just across the road,” she said.
“Please just let me walk you across the road, then.” Harry walked behind the bar counter, putting the cleaning supplies away.
“You make me sound like an old lady.”
“Just-“ He appeared from behind the counter. “-Wait.” He then disappeared into the backroom where he only stayed for a few seconds. Y/N would have thought that since he enjoyed working at The Stag’s Head, he would have at least lingered for a few moments to take in the last time he would ever be back there. But instead, he emerged wearing his coat, locking the door behind him, mere seconds later. He turned the lights off, and, walking over to where Y/N was standing, placed a gentle hand to her lower back, guiding her in the direction of the door that she could only barely make out in the dark. Goosebumps instantly ran up Y/N’s back and she inhaled at the pressure of Harry’s hand on her body. He held the door open for her and Y/N stepped outside, watching as Harry locked the front doors to The Stag’s Head for the very last time.
He looked around them after locking the door, checking up and down the three streets that came to a crossroad just outside the pub. Once his eyes finally met Y/N’s again he gave her the smallest smile, then motioned for her to lead the way back to their flat. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she could not find it in herself to do just that in that moment. Though it was just across the road, she very much appreciated Harry’s company back to their flat. Distance was nothing when the roads were dark and the faces of the figures walking past were left blurred by the dim streetlamps.
Harry held the door for Y/N once again, letting her be the first to enter the building. She strolled upstairs, unlocking their front door and watching as Harry gestured for her to walk on inside. The flat was dark, except for the warm yellow lights Nathan had twined around the railing of their terrace and the changing colours of the luminous Christmas tree in the living room. The kitchen was usually left in darkness, as was the rest of the flat, but since their eyes were used to night outside, it wasn’t hard to navigate their way to the stairs. They took their jackets off, and without her leather jacket on, Y/N was very aware of how much of her skin was exposed to Harry. Her dress showed off her legs, arms, and parts of her back to him, and she knew that, if he walked behind her up the stairs, he would get a good look at her bum.
She took her boots off and started up the stairs with her purse in her hand, hearing Harry make his way up them as well. If any man were to walk behind her up the stairs, Harry was one she trusted not to take the mick, to not look up her skirt and make her feel uncomfortable. But… after everything… she still didn’t want him to see her knickers. However, facing her door, she heard Harry walking up the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face him once he reached the first floor. What happened next happened so suddenly that Y/N barely managed to wrap her head around it before the moment was gone.
She had just turned around to face Harry when he walked up over to her. Taking a step back at the sudden closeness, she felt herself breathe in sharply as Harry’s face lingered only centimetres from her own again. Though the person standing in front of her was a man, a completely different person, something inside her brain took her back to that night when they were 16. He hadn’t been this close to her since then, had not touched her or looked at her like this since then. His eyes flicked down to her lips, and then to meet hers, wet lips parting as if the anticipation was killing him.
And Y/N had to painfully admit, it was killing her, too. As much as she had tried to fight it, it was impossible to now. She wanted Harry to kiss her. Not tenderly kiss her like you would peck a person you were in love with, or to gently rub his thumb over her cheek as a show of affection, or to hug her tight when they met up for lunch. No, she wanted him to fucking kiss her. She wanted him to grab her face and kiss her hard; desperately, needily. She wanted them to fumble to take each other’s clothes off, and for him to make up for how bad that first time together was. There was absolutely no denying it, Y/N wanted Harry. She really wanted him. All these months, all those moments spent trying to push the thought away, she simply could not anymore. There was a hunger inside her for him, but only in the sexual sense. She could never fall in love with this man, she just wanted to fuck him. And she wanted to fuck him bad.
Her own lips parted, and she looked into his eyes with an expression she hoped he could read, because she needed him to understand. Once again, Harry raised his hand, hovering between them as if he were unsure what to do with it. Fingers twitching, she could see he was conflicted, whether he should touch her cheek as it looked like he wanted to, or if he should stop himself. Y/N let her eyes fall to his hand, to tell him she wanted him to touch her. She wanted to feel him somewhere, anywhere on her. Just looking at him, she could see he wanted the same as her. He wanted to feel her body, to explore it in a completely different way to last time.
Harry’s hand fell out of view, and just as Y/N thought he was going to let it hang limply, uselessly, at his side, she felt something on her waist. A warm pressure, snaking around the black linen of her dress. She waited for him to pull her closer to him, for their torsos to connect, but it never happened.
“Y/N,” Harry whispered, eyes falling to her lips again.
She did not answer, instead just tilted her head so it would be easier for him to kiss her. With her eyelids hanging low over her eyes, her body language not showing any sign of protesting, and with her lips parted, Y/N hoped the message was coming across clearly. Harry leaned in closer, his nose almost touching hers. Her heart was beating so fast and hard it hurt. Her hands were clammy. All her attention focused on Harry and the electricity they created on that spot where his hand rested. He leaned down, lips hovering just over the crook of her neck, making her close her eyes. Breath against the hair of her shoulder, lightning shooting up Y/N’s back. He slowly leaned back out again, nose hovering beside hers. The anticipation was absolutely killing her.
“I…” But he drifted off, eyes falling to her lips again. She could feel his breath on her mouth, could smell his cologne. The tension was making her dizzy, she just wanted him to bloody kiss her already.
She was just about to do it herself when she felt his warm hand drop off her waist. She blinked, and the next second, Harry took a step back. He only looked at her, mouth working as if he was trying to find the right words to say, but there were none. So, as if blinking himself awake from a sort of dream, he took another step back. Suddenly, he opened the door into his room. He stopped in the doorway, looking back at Y/N. Again, he tried to say something that must have died on the tip of his tongue, because again, he did not utter a word. It looked like he physically could not say them out loud. Instead, he closed the door, leaving Y/N standing alone out in the dark hallway.
Y/N’s eyes rested on the door to the bathroom, trying to go over in her head where it had just happened. Had… Had Harry just walked away just now? Had he teased her in the pub, then done almost the same just now, only to walk away? What had gone wrong? Why had he not kissed her? What had made him step away? What had made him stop? Y/N could not answer a single one of the questions, and she doubted Harry would give her any. She closed her eyes, resting her head against her door behind her. This was exactly why she had not wanted to live with Harry, this was why she had not given in to his charms and flirts before. Now, because of what had just happened, because of how awkward that had just been, they were back to square one. Just living under the same roof as him infuriated her. She could not fucking stand Harry Styles.
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The more I think about your recent post about the changes you made to Strahd, the more I wonder about those changes you made to the others mentioned (Rahadin, Van Richten, Ireena, etc). I'd absolutely love to hear what adjustments you made as you already shared some stellar ideas already. Like the Tome? -Chef kiss- Amazing.
Oh mannn I do love talking about my campaign. I changed a lot with them. Again, weirdly enough, I think Strahd wound up being the most like his original incarnation. I could talk forever about the changes I made so I'll try to be brief haha. IT STILL WON'T BE BRIEF.
Obvious CoS spoilers below
IREENA - I thought it was weird that the picture they gave her makes her look like such a badass, and then the module just kind of writes her as a damsel in distress to either get kidnapped or pulled into water or dumped somewhere. To me, she's like, the second most important character in CoS -- and the book literally gives you less direction to roleplay her than her brother. Furthermore, reading her ending actually legit made me mad.
So I said fuck all that. Ireena in my game was a 19-year old girl who grew and developed over the course of the campaign. Several of my players actually said they thought of her as "the main character," just because she experienced a lot of character growth and development, going from a sheltered meek teenager to someone who can fight and assert herself. The biggest change I made to her though was that I very specifically did not just want her to be "Tatyana with memory loss." Ireena is a unique individual who happens to be partially made out of Tatyana's soul. While she shares many similarities with Tatyana, they're separate people, and part of what Ireena has to grapple with is how to live up to that. She's in the post-campaign because of that distinction -- while Sergei offered her to join him, she declined, because she wants to experience life past her twenties. I didn't get to play it out because we were kind of rushing towards the end, but I honestly envisioned a scene where she talks to the portrait of Tatyana, apologizing to her because she knows she's being selfish remaining alive.
This also brings up a unique problem in the post campaign. If Ireena dies, she ceases to exist and may not be able to be resurrected. When her soul leaves her body, it's Tatyana's again. Ireena very much wants to live. Tatyana doesn't. A resurrection has to be made with the consent of the soul, and if Tatyana declines, Ireena's just... gone. Forever.
Related: because I wasn't sure what my players would ask, and Rahadin would absolutely know this information -- there have been 18 incarnations of Tatyana, including the original. I actually have a timeline of when they were all born and how they died. The curse manifests in that they always die or are killed before their 25th birthday. If Strahd attempts to marry them, they lose their minds and throw themselves off of the same balcony the original Tatyana jumped off of during the ceremony. Strahd can never have Tatyana. Vampyr will ensure of that.
But yeah, essentially: Ireena gained actual class levels; she wasn't just Tatyana with memory loss; she traveled with the party for 90% of the campaign and wasn't just a macguffin to be kidnapped/take to places; and I removed any of the "Sergei takes her into water/the sky and you never see her again" endings because I absolutely hated those.
VAN RICHTEN - Van Richten I tweaked a lot from his original incarnation. First, I started him off as Lawful Neutral. No, game, I know you tell me he's Lawful Good, but I'm gonna have to disagree with you that "training a racist tiger to genocide an ethnic camp" falls under the spectrum of Lawful Good. Second, I changed him from cleric to artificer (alchemist). I somehow just got the impression the dude was a godless man, and so he felt more fitting to be a man of science rather than a man of the church. Third, since I wasn't sure the other dread domains were ever going to be brought into 5e I moved him out of Darkon and into another world from the outside.
His backstory was also tied more into Strahd and the campaign in general, as well as the Dark Powers. About 30 years ago, he went into the mists with his own adventuring party (that included Escher) to try to rescue his kidnapped son, Erasmus. He found his son half-turned and begging him for death. Killing him, Van Richten hunted down the Vistani woman (Ezmerelda's mother) who sold the man, and in a rage strangled her to death. This gave him a curse. Ezmerelda witnessed it happen.
He went on a warpath against vampire spawn and vistani alike, until Strahd proposed a deal to Escher. Escher lured the group to a familiar dinner date with Strahd... only for Strahd to murder all of them, including Van Richten. Van Richten was approached by a dark power -- Vaund the Evasive, and given the option to return to life in exchange for the promise that Van Richten would eventually return to Amber Temple and free him. He took it, waking up outside of Barovia. From there he became famed vampire-hunter-book-author, until in his early 50's he decided it was time to seek vengeance and fulfill his promise. He brought in his hat of disguise, came up with an alibi, and headed into Barovia as Rictavio the Great.
He was absolutely played as a much more morally grey character at the start (the party's first encounter with him rather than Rictavio was him literally torturing a dude). He softened over the course of the campaign as he grew attached to the party, until finally reaching a point in the post-campaign where he's considered Lawful Good
Also: Ezmerelda was treated more or less as his adoptive daughter. She absolutely argued against this every single time, but he even slipped up and referred to her as his daughter on a few tense occasions.
RAHADIN - Rahadin I adjusted a lot, too. A LOOOOOOT. Strahd being comically evil makes sense -- the dude is a darklord, that kind of comes with the territory. With Rahadin, I wanted him to have more motivations to his actions, because the base game actually suggests that the dude is actually capable of caring. In the base game, you can find him at Amber Temple, trying to "petition the dark god into releasing his master from his torment." He screams in grief if he finds Strahd dead. Furthermore it felt like the game glosses over the fact that the dude was adopted as Barov's son. It doesn't bother addressing how Rahadin felt about Sergei, who would in theory be his other brother. I thought a number of things suggested in his backstory were interesting, but not expanded upon in the base game. So I took it upon myself to do so.
I changed how dusk elf society was built, which affected the three major dusk elf characters. It worked off of a pretty brutal caste system, with three kings at the top overseeing all of it. Rahadin was born in a lower caste, but actually brought into the warrior caste after a member of royalty was intrigued by his stature. Rahadin worked as a general, but grew frustrated by the inefficiencies of the caste system and its inequality. He started attempting to use his influence to petition other members of nobility into changing or loosening the strict system.
Patrina caught wind of this, and viewing it as a threat to her lifestyle + viewing it as an easy way to gain brownie points with those above her... tattled on him to the three kings, spinning what he was doing as treason. Rahadin was arrested and subsequently tortured. They attempted to execute him on a breaking wheel, breaking his bones against the spokes and leaving him in the town square as an example. He wound up escaping, crawling his way out of town until he was subsequently rescued by a group of human monks. The event pretty much broke him, morally. He went to Barov soon after and sold his people out, taking a personal hand in helping annihilate the dusk elves and conquering their land. Barov was so impressed by the man's loyalty that he adopted him as his son.
Part of this was done to make a connection as to why the hell Rahadin just absolutely fuckin' hates Patrina so much (since that definitely got played up during the campaign). When thinking of Rahadin's motivations, I tried to come at it from the angle that this man was evil... but legitimately cared deeply about Strahd, Sergei, and Tatyana. He was devestated from the events of the wedding, but saw Strahd's return as a second chance. As the lone surviving witness from the wedding, he desperately wanted to help the three of them. But his own blind loyalty to Strahd and his broken moral compass prevented him from doing so.
One of my favorite little additions was a sidequest I offered to the players (they wanted to redeem Rahadin). They were requested by him to retrieve (well, "not destroy or sell") one of his most precious belongings in his office. When they get there... it turns out it's a birthday card and a worn-out old amulet from Sergei and Tatyana that he's kept after all these years. They got Ireena to read the letter to him, to help him keep going after Strahd's death.
anyway i could ramble on about changes forever but i don't want this post to get too long haha. i have. many feelings. over this campaign. maybe at some point I'll do a separate post with some of the others.
i also kinda wanna do a comic of an event from Rahadin's backstory for my players but we'll see, I might deem it "too stupid."
#palidoozy rambles#curse of strahd#curse of strahd spoilers#cos#cos spoilers#WARNING IT LONG#I HAVE MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THESE THREE CHARACTERS
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Trapped - Mark Hoffman x Reader [NSFW]
Hoffman has feelings for Strahm's fiance. Now that Strahm is dead, you struggle with returning those feelings just for the night.
Set in between Saw V and VI. Please visit the ao3 link for full tags.
“Hey. You left something by the coffee machine.”
You look up, and see Detective Hoffman holding your engagement ring. “Oh,” you smile. “How do you know it’s mine?”
“I guess I look at your fingers a lot,” he jokes, tossing it to you. You slide it back on.
“Do you? How’s this one look?” You playfully flip him off, and he manages as much of a chuckle as the stoic man ever could.
“I’ve sure seen that one more than the others.”
You return the ring to your finger, sliding it on and sitting back down at your desk.
“We’re going out for drinks tonight,” Hoffman mentions, “Wanna come?” You normally wouldn’t join the rest of the officers after hours, but you had been making more of a solid effort to go out and enjoy yourself now that the initial sting of Peter’s death had subsided for you. You tilt your head.
“Is Lindsey gonna be there? Matthews?”
“Yeah. Sing, Tapp. Everyone’s going.”
“Sure. I’ll be there,” you nod.
“Great.” He looks like he wants to say something else, and eventually closes with, “Don’t work yourself too hard.”
You look down to the paperwork on your desk, and back up to return with a quip, but Hoffman’s gone. You spend longer than you should looking out your door, mindlessly counting the number of steps it takes him to get back to his own office as if you hadn’t already memorized it.
Mark sits down at his desk. He’d always had a thing for you. He’d been jealous of Strahm, not only in his stellar reputation with the guys, but of his pretty wife and his perfect life. Mark may have seemed like the handsome hero everyone dreamed of, but in reality, he was a pitiable alcoholic whose sole personality trait was mourning.
If you ever did return his feelings, it would probably be because you pitied him for the loss of his sister, which hurt more than the bindings John had put him in that first day of initiation. He only wanted one thing, really. Maybe two, the first being justice. True justice. As for the second, it's not viable to have you in the position he's in, but his tendency to run from his emotions is being put to the test by your acceptance of his invitation.
When you get to the bar you and everyone at the station frequent after work, Hoffman’s sitting there. Within a half an hour, it’s become apparent the others aren’t coming... and were never coming.
“You invited me out under false pretences,” you say, accepting your drink of choice from the bartender with a nod. “Why?”
“I told you, the others didn’t show.”
“I work for the FBI, and you’re a detective. You’re honestly trying to lie to me?”
Hoffman considers this, purses his lips. “Not very well thought out on my part, I guess.”
“What, did you want to talk to me about a case?” you ask. “Something about today’s paperwork?”
“You know I don’t want to talk about that crap. I wanted to ask you how you were,” he corrects you, taking another generous sip of his second double vodka of the night. “All these months later. Treat you to a night off.”
“Oh,” you nod. “Right.” You’re quiet for a moment. “I’m okay. I haven’t really said it out loud yet, but I think I am.” You debate opening up, but you know he’s also lost someone, so you take a chance. “I feel bad when I forget him.”
“Yeah. I know how it feels to forget. My sister was a huge part of my life, and I never thought I could. And I can’t. Difference is, I try to forget.” You stay quiet, ruminating on the reminder of Mark’s dead sister. He didn’t talk about her often for that reason you suppose, but everyone who knew Hoffman knew he was the way he was because of her death. “You’re not wearing your wedding band,” he mutters, starting in on his third drink.
“I lost it,” you whisper.
“Like you lost it by the coffee machine today?”
You avert your eyes down to your lap. “Maybe you’re not the only one who tries to forget.” Silence passes between you as you explain. “Looking at it opens up old wounds. Keeping the past in the past is my way of dealing with it. He’s gone. If I think about how awfully he died, how scary his last seconds were, it’ll be like it happened yesterday... and I’ll have to start the process again.” You shove your hand down into your pocket, unwilling to study your bare ring finger any longer. “The past is as tangible as the future, detective. If I can’t feel it, it’s not there.”
“You think denying it’s gonna help you in the long run?”
You frown, looking up at him. “Nobody’s denying anything.” Blinking as if in slow motion, Mark gets up and tosses money down for the two of you. He takes your arm and leads you out of the bar, into the cool night air. Confused and more than a little angry, you jerk your arm away. “Why did you invite me for drinks?”
“I wanted to offer my condolences. Again.”
“Bullshit. It’s been 4 months and you haven’t once said you’re sorry he died in one of John Kramer’s sick traps. I know you two weren’t close, but why wait this long? What do you really want?”
“I don’t want anything.”
“Look me in the face and tell me one thing tonight that isn’t a lie,” you demand. Mark turns to you fully.
“Okay. I want to fuckin’ kiss you.”
You hesitate. That was the opposite of what you were expecting. You try and find words as Mark stares at you with that dark gaze, those eyes that seemed to linger in your mind now that you were lonely and no longer trapped under the weight of a lacklustre partnership.
“So? What’s stopping you?” You can never tell what’s going on behind those eyes; he guards his feelings and he guards his secrets. You know he has more secrets than the average man, but he’s a detective. How bad can they be?
“You want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” He advances, walking you back against the brick wall of the alley no doubt filled with the scum John had him abduct for his games. “Huh? You want me to kiss you how you’re used to? Kiss you like it’s an obligation? Like it’s what people expect me to do?” Your eyes start to prick with tears as Hoffman brushes your hair out of your face. “You want me to tell you I love you like a man who’s only true obsession is a serial killer he couldn’t begin to understand?”
“Hoffman, Peter—”
“Don’t say his name,” he mutters, “You’ll cut the wound wide open again, sweetheart.” He presses his lips against yours, and you feel your body release all of its tension. He kisses like Strahm’s antithesis—like he knows what he’s doing. He’s rough and he’s present, nothing like how you’d imagined the cold detective would. Peter had tried, but as much as he wanted to be, he hadn’t loved you as much as that damn case. Hoffman adversely seemed to care about anything but, even though he was in charge of it. You used to think everything was a façade for Hoffman, that appearances were everything. Façades have to crumble sometime.
By the time you had arrived at his apartment with him in the passenger’s seat, the full effects of the detective’s four double vodkas had set in. He tries to maintain his sense of self until the elevator, then down the hall and into his place.
“Shit,” Mark grunts, sliding your jacket off, “I want you.”
“No you don’t.”
He licks his lips. “Wanna bet?”
“You’re drunk, and we’re colleagues,” you mutter. “You’re gonna walk into work tomorrow morning and you’re not going to be able to look me in the eye.”
“What, after taking you on every surface of my apartment?” he mutters, lips dipping dangerously close to your neck. “Your pussy isn’t gonna shock me. Yours isn’t the first I’ve seen, but it’s sure as hell on my list.” You try once more to push him off, and he tries to stand wearily. His brown eyes blink a few times, and he shakes his head. “Fuck. Sorry.” He lets go of you, backs off. You realize your mistake, and take him by his lapels.
“Are you?”
He looks back up at you, and through your shared gaze, he sees his own arousal reflected in your eyes. His lips are back on you, finally touching your skin, and his hands roam under your top, up to cup your breasts and paw for the hooks of your bra.
“Around the back,” you whisper against his lips. In his drunken state, Hoffman misinterprets this to mean you want to be turned around, and you find yourself pressed against the wall as his hands massage your ass. A moan slips from you as you try to reach back. “I meant the bra.”
“Fuck,” he repeats again, slightly slurred, and reaches up to take it off of you. It drops down one arm, and Mark turns you around again to take your top off and release the garment from your sleeve. “This is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing?” he mutters, half to himself. “God damn gorgeous.”
“Tell me more?” you ask coyly, wrapping arms around his neck. He growls, picking you up by the ass so your legs can wrap around his hips.
“You don’t even wanna know the shit I fantasize about with you,” he mumbles, grinding himself between your legs.
“Wanna bet?” you volley back his line with a grin, and he scoffs, working down your panties as you reach a hand forward to tease him through his business casual pants. The feeling of his bulge grounds you in the reality that yes, Mark Hoffman does want you back. He wants to fuck you in his apartment, and he wants to do it now.
“I’m drunk, but I’m not drunk enough to tell you that, honey.” He presses a soft kiss to the curve of your jaw and slides your panties off, dropping them and rubbing his fingers back up your thighs and beneath the plush seat of your ass. His fingertips are oddly rough, for a detective who hasn’t seen field work in three months.
“What’s your secret, Hoffman?” you ask, and he uses one hand to stroke up the column of your neck.
“Gonna have to fuck me to find out.”
The two of you move over to his couch, Hoffman attempting to lift you over. His state tells you this is a bad idea, so you just pull him by his tie over, and push him down on the couch. He seems to like your show of control, eyes roaming up and down your body as you stand over him. “This feels a little unfair,” you whisper, lifting a hand up to squeeze your breast. Hoffman tears his eyes away from the action.
“What does?”
“Look at you,” you gesture to his fully clothed form, “And look at me.”
“Oh, I’m looking,” he nods, reaching down to squeeze himself. You get between his legs on the couch with a huff, and take over, unzipping his pants and giving him a better squeeze through his boxers. You can feel how hard he is, how large his bulge has grown. He grinds up into your hand, makes no move to undress himself any further.
“You’re selfish,” you mutter.
“I never said I was a nice guy,” he replies.
“You’re a detective.”
“Gray area.”
“For what?”
“My hobbies.”
“Which are?” You sit back on your heels for a moment. Hoffman seems to realize he was about to let something big slip, and your curiosity only grows as he cuts himself off.
“Shut up, will you? And kiss me.”
“That’s my line,” you groan, unbuckling his belt and sliding it out.
“I stole it.”
“You steal a lot?” you probe, hoping to uncover that elusive secret.
“Like I said,” he mutters, face still stone cold. “I’m not a nice guy.” You moan as he pulls you down against him, and moves his hand down to uncover his cock in a smooth movement of his hand. He groans as it grazes against your thigh and up to your pussy, and you lean down to kiss him again. His large hands reach up to your smooth naked back, clutching your body to his as he deepens the kiss. Your breath mingles as you pull away, vodka in his and the mint of chewing gum in yours.
“Condoms?” Mark reaches beside him to the coffee table, and pulls open a packet. Reaching between you two and keeping you held up with the ease of a strong bicep, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he rolls one onto his shaft—the feeling alone of his own hand on himself is enough to make him moan, but he keeps it together. You lift up to position yourself. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“I’m ridiculously hard for you,” he replies, eyes half lidded and lips parted. “I think if you left me now, it would be the first time in my life I’ve cried.” You roll your eyes, and he sits you down on his cock. Your eyes roll back. He looked big when he first took himself out, but it was nothing compared to the feeling. He’s stretching you all the way to the base, hands tightening on your arms. He rocks up once, and you whine his name softly. “Can you move?” he whispers, slurring his words.
“Yeah.” You start to rock down, and his breath hitches. After a moment, he reaches his hands further back, feeling your ass and groping it before sliding them up to your lower back to guide your movements.
“So good,” he mumbles, “Never knew I wanted you... this fucking bad.”
“When did you figure it out?” you smirk, gasping as he hits deep.
“Today, at the office.” His eyes slip shut. “I looked at you sitting there, and wished your picture was on my shelf instead of all the bullshit awards I don’t fucking deserve. One thing that means something to me, that I don’t have to tempt fate to get. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Just someone else. Just someone else.”
You can’t think of a response. To save him embarrassment in the morning if he, by some miracle, remembers this conversation, you don’t reply. You’re afraid you’ll scare him off if you reciprocate the sentiment, and you’re terrified you’ll offend him if you coddle him. Then again, he could mistake your silence for apathy. Even in his impaired state of mind, Mark seems to realize what’s running through your head. He pulls you down against his broad chest again to put all these thoughts you had no business thinking while getting fucked to bed.
Still, he offers no tender explanation of his confession, no further apologies or bashful take-backs. He only increases his pace, grunting as you start to feel your climax build.
“I wanna feel you cum all over me,” he growls, “Fuck. Fuck, let me feel it.”
“Hoffman.”
“Use my name. Use my fucking name—”
“Mark.”
“Ah,” he hisses, trying to make himself last. “Good girl. Good girl...” You squeeze around him, riding him back and forth, your clit grinding against his pelvis and your ass slamming down into his thighs. He lets out sharp puffs of air, wrapping one arm around you and tightening it. You feel as though you’re as close to the distant man as you’ve ever been as he breathes your name into your hair, burying himself in it as he buries his cock the deepest it will go inside of you and stills.
You’re both almost there, and the formality between you dies.
“Mark—I’m gonna cum,” you breathe desperately, “Don’t stop!”
True to character, Hoffman doesn’t offer any verbal encouragement, but his body language is worth a thousand words. He bites your earlobe, reaching down to rub your clit in circles. The action makes you gasp, and you brace yourself on his chest as your orgasm finally hits in waves. His hips convulse inside of you as he finally lets himself finish with you, and your grunts and groans meld together into a harsh symphony of panted out breaths.
“You moan so pretty, babygirl,” he sighs. A warm flush rushes through your body at that, and you’re not sure why. This needs to stay a one night’s stand, not some workplace romance the two of you can giggle about behind closed doors. It would only be a liability to both of your careers in the force, and you know Mark will agree once he sobers up in the morning.
“Stop thinking,” he groans. His voice is gravelly, sated. “Hey. Stop. More importantly, stop guessing what I’m thinking.”
You stare down at him, eyes dancing between his. Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. “What are you thinking?”
“Absolutely nothing. Which is what you should be thinking of too, after we both fell into bed together.”
He seems to grow uncomfortable with the close eye contact, feels as though you’re reading him like a book. He moves your head down, where you lay there on his softly rising and falling chest. His steady breathing makes you think he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are wide open. He stares up at the ceiling as if he was staring up at Peter Strahm again, watching the walls close in on the agent and crush his bones as he himself sunk into the ground safely entombed in glass. He swallows, imagining how your bones must have crunched in on themselves as you crumpled to the floor receiving news of your husband’s death.
His fault.
John’s fault. Jigsaw's fault.
No.
His fault.
He thought acting on his feelings and sleeping with you would make him forget Strahm ever existed. Instead, it felt like Strahm was the one in that box, watching the walls close in on Hoffman as every shitty thing he’d done in his life came closing in on him. Hoffman feels his heartbeat pick up desperately, but talks himself down as he did every night. He listens to the rhythm of your breath, tries to meditate to it.
You don’t have the problem of hyperactive thought at the moment—you had taken Mark’s advice, and calmed down. It’s okay that you had moved on. It’s okay you had found comfort in someone else’s arms, and it’s okay that it’s Hoffman. Despite this, one singular question seems to bounce back and forth in your head as curiosity digs its nails back in.
Your finger traces a pattern in the rug below the couch... the pattern of a puzzle piece.
#mark hoffman#mark hoffman x reader#hoffman x reader#detective hoffman#detective hoffman x reader#saw#saw v#saw vi#saw 5#saw 6#costas mandylor#saw franchise#saw movies#slasher fandom#slasher fanfic#slasher x reader#saw fanfiction
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Do It For the Band, Part Six (fic)
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: IchiRuki
Summary: When Tatsuki said she wanted their sophomore album to be the next Rumours, this is NOT what she meant. Band AU. Read Part One, Two, Three, Four, and Five.
Tatsuki never thought she’d live to see the day that she has to drag herself to jam with her friends.
Sure, she’s been pretty hung over on some of her work days; but she was always, always able to pull herself out of bed, pop a couple of Tylenol and be on her way to make a racket. It made no sense how she could still be giddy to beat some loud drums when she had a throbbing headache - but.
She loved it. She loved her band.
She still does… But she hates Ichigo right now.
Ichigo, who’s being a real insensitive dick. Ichigo, who went on a date with Orihime, aka her-best-friend-aka-longtime-love-of-her-life-maybe-who-knows-she-never-got-a-chance-to-find-out-cuz-of-her-dickwad-friend.
Ichigo, who is doing this as some stupid fucking vendetta against Rukia, or to forget her, or whatever the fact is being a dumbass and everyone is having to pay for it.
Needless to say: she’s worked herself up to a pretty furious state by the time she rages to practice.
She stomps over to Chad’s garage, viciously lifting the the heavy door while simultaneously (unreasonably) half expecting to be faced with the sight of Ichigo and Orihime making out -
When her eyes adjust to see into the garage, there’s none of that (thank God). They’re not even next to each other. Instead, she’s met with a very different sight.
Ichigo’s stewing in the corner, hands stuffed in his pocket and visibly grinding his teeth. Chad is sitting quietly next to him but definitely trying to blend himself into the shadows more than usual. Orihime is looking down at her hands across the room, silent and stiff.
And Rukia is plugging her phone into their speaker jack rather manically.
“Ah, good afternoon Tatsuki!” Rukia greets the drummer with a too-large, sparkling smile that she recognizes as Rukia’s favorite mask to put on when she’s pissed. The vocalist has noticeable bags under her eyes from… Lack of sleep? Crying? Who knows. Her heart cracks for her.
The pity doesn’t last long when Rukia continues, sickly-sweet. “Since Ichigo was so kind to tell us we should start working on new stuff - “
“Woah woah woah, I didn’t tell you - ”
“My mistake!” Rukia sends Ichigo a somehow-withering smile that could kill. “You’re so right, we all agreed. In any case, I decided to start sooner rather than later. I recorded a quick version by myself last night at - oh, I don’t know, two A.M. - and sent it to Urahara by five.”
Ichigo’s foot starts tapping as he leans forward, arms crossed. “You sent something to Urahara without showing us first?”
“He said he liked it, but to get it passed through you guys. Of course I agreed, so… Here we are.” Rukia’s not looking at him any further, instead sending a hard glance to Tatsuki.
The drummer knows it’s not really directed at her - more like a woman’s communication-without-words kind of thing - but she finds herself gulping anyway.
--
Here we are indeed.
Oh you got stars in your eyes, baby
If you think this will work
I won’t follow your galaxies
Won’t fall for that fucking smirk.
When will you realize the stars were never yours?
Never at any time, never at any time.
The song has turned to pure obliteration by the end. Rukia’s voice intentionally fades out at the finish, but not without absolute raw emotion, pure fury that leaves goosebumps on Tatsuki’s skin.
Rukia stands in the middle of the garage, hands on her hips, looking proud and dangerous and fiery as she stares straight back at Ichigo’s stone-faced glare.
Good for her, Tatsuki thinks before remembering: wait. She shouldn’t be rooting for this.
This is the beginning of a war.
As if on cue, Ichigo clears his throat, raising his chin to match Rukia’s arrogance.
“Great work, Kuchiki. Way better than anything you’ve done so far, I’d say.”
Rukia’s nostrils flare. “Is that a comment on my previous work?”
“Not at all. Just… Inspires me to step up my game. In fact…” Ichigo stands up, dusting off his pants. “Is it cool with you all if I cut out early? Think I have some writing to do too, alone.”
“Absolutely not, Ichigo.” Tatsuki is shaken out of watching the trainwreck that’s her life. “Chad, Orihime and I did not come here for you to cut out without even practicing - “
“No, I think it’s fine, Tatsuki.” Rukia’s eyes glint with a challenge. “We can practice… Without Ichigo.”
An excruciating silence follows. Tatsuki can practically hear Ichigo’s teeth crack beneath his grinding.
“... I can wait to write.” He roughly grabs his guitar, quickly getting to work on tuning it. “Teamwork is important. We’re nakama, after all.”
Something about the pointed word visibly causes the keyboardist to flush, but she starts to unplug her phone from the speaker jack anyway.
The next hour of practice may just be the most painful hour in Tatsuki’s life.
--
She thought she might have an idea of what happened between Ichigo and Rukia from Rukia’s song Celestial Lies - okay, so Ichigo broke a promise? - but seeing what kind of songs follow after that practice from both of them leaves it all… A little muddled.
The next day, Ichigo sends the group chat audio of a break up song.
Eyes softly gazed
Heart breaking stare
Who knew you’d crush me
Lying is your best jewelry you wear.
Everyone hits a wary thumbs up reaction except Rukia, who hours later only replies: Did Urahara approve of this one?
Yes. Ichigo sends back at a neck-breaking speed…
Followed by a :).
A few days later, Rukia sends another audio.
It only took you ten days to realize
I wasn’t good enough, but no one’s ever good enough
No one’s ever nice enough,
No one’s ever fucked you enough
Called your bluff enough
Said your name like a God enough.
Now Ichigo’s response is a weird song about a siren with lavender eyes feasting on a golden-haired sailor’s skull, and Tatsuki didn’t know what to think happened but frankly? She doesn’t care.
She calls Urahara immediately.
“You know what this is gonna do to us, right?!” She shouts into the phone. “This isn’t doing anything but hurting the band, letting them go at it like this!”
Urahara - to his credit - listens patiently from the other end as she explodes. He has the decency to voice his sympathies, that it must be really tough working in a group with… So many opinions.
“These aren’t opinions. These. Are. Fatalities.” She grits out.
“I understand, Tatsuki-san, but…” She can nearly hear their manager shrug. “This is… How good music is made. I hate what it’s doing to your nerves, but you have to understand that this is how I get you guys out there.”
“At the expense of our friendship? What kind of manager are you -”
“A good one.” His voice drops low, suddenly serious in a way she’s never heard before. “What would you have me do, Tatsuki-san? Tell everyone to stop writing mean songs? Have them hug it out? You know that does nothing for any of us.”
“That’s not what I’m... “
“Tatsuki.” His voice lifts, a bit gentler. “This is what you all wanted, what you’re working hard for. Whether or not they get through this… Nobody can say. But that’s not gonna change whether or not they stop writing these stellar pieces. You know how good they are. So… I hate to tell you, but you’re gonna have to suck it up. Enjoy it while it lasts. It might make your career.”
She hangs up immediately, knowing he won’t be offended.
He knows that she knows he’s right.
--
Almost like a God-sent gift for Tatsuki’s suffering, Orihime breaks it off with Ichigo after only a few weeks.
The relationship ends - quite spectacularly - in disaster after a couple of dates… Just as Tatsuki thought it would, but hey. She’s not going to gloat about it, only promises whatever deity is responsible a huge offering the next time she happens upon a shrine.
She hears all about it from Orihime, of course - she’s way too pissed at Ichigo to speak to him about anything besides business - who tells her they got a couple of drinks, dinner a few times.
“It’s a very nice time! But he’s not… It’s…” She sighs forlornly and it makes Tatsuki hurt for her.
“He hasn’t made any moves, huh.”
The stage manager shakes her head, suddenly grabbing her water to keep the tears misting her eyes at bay.
Tatsuki wants to kill him.
“He said I looked nice. He opens the doors for me, pulls out my chair, pays for my bill. He and I have… Fun, I think. At least I do - and he’s very kind, such a gentleman -”
“It’s okay, Orihime. You can say it: he fucking sucks.”
Orihime laughs a watery laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just… This Rukia thing. It’s so… Intense, right? In practice? I should’ve known. I feel so stupid.”
“... Orihime.” The drummer puts her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Nobody could’ve known. Had I known? You’d find me on a cruise ship, drumming for some dumb cover band.”
“You make jokes like that, Tatsuki, but you’re the band’s lifeline.” Orihime shakes her head, blinking back tears. “I just… Rukia is so… Goodness, she’s lovely. And talented. And so, so kind - “
“Orihime - “
“And I’m not one to be jealous, I know I’ve only known Ichigo for about a month now so I’m really not too upset about that. But I’d - I’d love to be someone’s first choice like that. I’d love to be the person that someone wants to write songs about, that inspires someone so much. Because that anger that’s coming through their songs… That’s them caring, you know? That’s them caring so much that good or bad, they want the whole world to know, and yeah I don’t love the bad so much but I do love love and want to be cared about like that one day but I’m not as smart or talented as Rukia-chan so - “
Tatsuki interrupts her by firmly pressing her lips to Orihime’s, her hands snaking into her gorgeous auburn hair and suddenly: everything is perfect, angels are singing and if she died at this very moment she would be too blissed out to fight it.
She briefly breaks it off, nudging Orihime’s forehead with her own. “Rukia is also my friend, but don’t get it twisted. They’re both absolute shits.”
Orihime laughs, smiling softly at the drummer before she goes back in and Tatsuki thinks band drama?
Who gives a fuck.
--
Her new girlfriend calls her the next day to say she’s told Ichigo, and Tatsuki sighs. She was about to enjoy her morning by smoking a joint, but. Priorities, she guesses.
She arrives at Ichigo’s apartment door within the hour, banging until he opens it.
“Y’know, how you get beyond the buzzer at the building entrance is beyond me - “
Tatsuki wastes no time. “Orihime told you, yeah?”
Ichigo rolls his eyes, but a rare, small smile betrays him. “Yeah, she told me. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. You mad?”
“What? No. Of course I’m not mad.”
“Cool. ‘Cuz what the ever-loving fuck, Ichigo.”
“... Not sure what you mean.” Ichigo’s eyes turn to flint as understanding dawns on him, and he’s about to close the door when she stomps on his foot.
“Tatsuki, what the hell--”
“Don’t ever try to do that to me again. What is this all about?”
“God, we didn’t have a - Orihime and I are friends! It’s all been worked out! What do you care, you got your girl - ” He shuts his mouth at the giveaway as Tatsuki narrows her eyes.
“Is that what this is about? You didn’t get your girl so you tried to get mine?”
“No, Tatsuki. I had no idea you liked her, I would’ve never had - and what do you mean ‘my girl’?!”
She ignores the question and chooses instead to ask in reply: “Have you talked to Rukia?”
A beat.
“... We’re not discussing this, Tatsuki.”
“Like, really talked to her? ‘Cuz I know you, and a whole lot of this bullshit could’ve been avoided had you just - “
“I’m not discussing this with you Tatsuki.” He looks down at his phone, lighting up the screen to look at the time. “Look, there’s a few more hours until practice and I wanted to get in some writing - “
“Of course you do.”
“... Just do me a favor. Please? Don’t - don’t ask me to talk about that stuff. You’re my friend and you scare the shit out of me - but I’m drawing the line there. Unless it has something to do with the band - “
She’s getting pissed all over again. “Ichigo, you know it effects the band - “
“We’re professional.” He snaps, and the quick show of temper stuns Tatsuki. He’s never had the nerve to talk to her like that, ever.
She’d be impressed if it wasn’t for the circumstances.
“... Congrats again on you and Orihime. I’ll see you two at practice tonight.”
He slams the door.
“... And you can kick my ass for doing that, later!” His muffled shout sounds from the other side of the door.
Tatsuki leaves in a hell of a less good mood than when she came.
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God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 8
Previous // Masterlist
Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Notes: Ugh, this one was a chore. I had to rewrite a chunk of it since I changed my mind about some stuff…it was a whole thing.
I am playing chess with so many plot elements right now and some of them are like so freaking long game; like hang with me this is gonna be one of those updates that makes sense 8 updates later. Like I am laying the ground work for the bigger picture I swear it’s all relevant and my narrative choices will make sense later. (probably)
1984 is almost over… 🙃
Warnings: N/A (I don’t think anything majorly bad happens in this update?? So used to them at least doing drugs…)
1984
After your fight with Nikki, the atmosphere on the set of the video shoot had been less than stellar. It’s a wonder you all had managed to finish filming at all.
You were angry at Nikki for what he’d done and for putting you in an awkward position with Tommy, and in turn Nikki was trying to avoid you as much as possible. Then, you felt guilty about keeping the whole thing a secret from Tommy, which made you feel awkward around him; so it was easier for you to just try and avoid him all together if you could.
Tommy was trying to calm Roxy down after meeting his parents, and he was kind of pissed at you for laughing at the whole ‘groupie’ comment his mother had made. Normally you’d be upset about this, but it actually worked out in your favor, since you were trying to avoid him anyway. Still, how long could you keep this up? How long could you keep your distance from your best friend? How long could you lie to him, even if you knew it was for his own good?
The shoot done, you’d all retreated back to the hotel. After a long, hot shower, you called Razzle. You talked to him most nights now; some days it was only a few minutes, just to check in, see how the tour was going, make sure everyone was doing okay before he and his boys went out to party and you and yours did the same. Other times, the two of you stayed on the phone for hours, talking through the night. You had seen the long-distance bills from the hotels when you helped Doc with the paperwork–they were outrageous; but you didn’t care. It was worth it.
You had debated whether you should tell him about what was going on with you and Nikki, just so you could get it off your chest. Normally, if you had an issue like this, you would go straight to Tommy, or in the past Nikki; the fact that they were both at the center of the problem meant you had no one else to turn to. You could talk to Vince or Mick–under normal circumstances you would trust them enough to confide in them, but this issue was delicate; what if something happens and they accidentally told Tommy? You couldn’t risk anyone else close to you finding out and telling him. But then trusting someone new was, for lack of a better word–scary–and you weren’t sure if you were ready to put that level of trust in Razzle yet.
When you called him, you hadn’t really planned on telling him; you were just going to have a normal conversation. But he’d picked up on it immediately; he could tell something was wrong just by the tone of your voice. When he asked you about it, you realized you wanted to trust him, and you decided to take a chance and open up to him.
It felt good to talk. Not just to tell him about the situation, but to tell him how you felt about it. Razzle listened, telling you he honestly wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, but that he was there for you, and you only had to call if you ever needed anything. Just listening was enough; just being there was enough.
And you really did love him for that.
—
After the shoot, there had been a noticable change in the dynamic of your group. No one wanted to talk about it, but the difference was obvious. You could barely stand to be around Nikki; between your anger at his actions with Roxie and his increasingly rude and inconsiderate behavior towards everyone, you found yourself fighting with him more and more each day.
Then there was Tommy. He and Roxie broke up, so that was one problem solved; but just like he always did after a breakup he was extra clingy with you now that she was gone. He wanted to hang out all the time, and that had caused some problems. For starters, while Roxie may be gone, you were still dealing with the weight of the her secret sex with Nikki, and knowing about it made being around Tommy awkward for you. You tried to suck it up and act like nothing was wrong, but it was obvious something was on your mind, and you wished Tommy would just give you some space so you had more time to process everything.
Then, there was the other issue that had come up between you. You had made it clear to Tommy you needed some time to yourself every once and awhile, and he seemed to agree, in theory. Then, in practice, would still bug you whenever he felt like it. Sometimes, he came to bother you in the middle of your phonecalls with Razzle. The few times this had happened, things had not gone well.
Tommy would insist you hang up and spend time with him. You would of course tell him no, saying you would hang out with him later. Usually, he would leave, pouting like a child. Later, he would spend the whole time complaining about Razzle; which annoyed you to no end–and you made sure to tell him so. That would only pissed him off more, and you two of you would both leave angry.
The last time he came in while you were on the phone, he’d been high, or drunk–or both–and when you refused to hang up he’d come over and done it for you. You’d gotten into a huge argument–something that had never happened before–and you made him leave, locking him out of your room.
Ever since your fight, Tommy had been walking on eggshells around you. He knew he’d fucked up, but he didn’t know how to fix it. You knew he couldn’t do anything; he’d apologized, but you were still upset. You just wanted to get away from all the drama–from Tommy, from Nikki–where you could relax and you didn’t have to worry if someone was going to yell at you for something or if you were going to get into another argument.
You weren’t essential to the band, it had occurred to you that maybe you could just go home for a week or two; take a little break? The guys wouldn’t love that idea, but no one could argue that things weren't strained right now. You could use some time apart. You hadn’t been away from them since they’d become a band–you’d all been living together the whole three years since they’d formed Motley Crue. It would be strange to be away from them after being together for so long, but then again some distance was starting to seem like exactly what you needed. And they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder; maybe taking some time apart would help heal the rifts forming in your most important relationships. Even if you didn’t love the idea of being alone, it would be worth it to get away for awhile.
As you drop your bags in yet another empty hotel room, you spot the phone on the nightstand, and an idea suddenly occurs to you. A crazy idea; maybe a great idea, or maybe a totally stupid one. Either way, the boys will absolutely hate it.
You pick up the phone, dialing the number and giving instructions to the receptionist on the other end as you sit on your bed.
“'ello beautiful.” Razzle greets you, and you smile.
“Hey Nic, how’s it going?” You ask, twirling the spiral cord around your finger.
“No' too bad; the boys and I jus' go' back.” He answer.
“Oh, that’s good.” You say, biting your lip, unsure of how to proceed.
“Is everythin' awlrigh'? You sound upset again.” He asks. “More trouble wif your brofa? Or is it Tommy this time?” You sigh, grateful he brought it up so you didn’t have to.
“Um, well I mean yeah, sort of, but, that’s actually not what I called about.” You say.
“Oh?” He asks. “Do tell.” You take a deep breath.
“I was wondering what you would think about me maybe coming to stay with you?” You ask, nervous. “Just for a little while.” You add hastily at the end.
“You wan' to come wif me? On tou'a?” He asks, clearly surprised.
“Yeah; I, I mean if you and the band don’t mind.” You reply.
“Of course I don’t fuckin' mind!” He says, clearly excited; and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “But wha' about the Crue? Won’ they be angry you’re off tourin’ wif another band?”
“I’ll handle the boys.” You assure him, smiling into the receiver.
—
“The fuck do you mean you’re leaving?” Nikki asks as he looks at you, your bags at your feet.
“Exactly what I said; you need it in writing?” You snap.
“Would you stop being a fucking bitch for five seconds and explain to me what the hell you think you’re playing at?” Nikki spits back. “You can’t just fucking leave!”
“Newsflash Nikki; you don’t fucking own me! I can do whatever the hell I want!” You shout, throwing your arms up.
“Okay, okay can everyone just chill out for a second please?” Vince asks.
“Stay the fuck out of this Vince.” Nikki sneers as he looks over at the blonde. “This isn’t any of your fucking business.”
“Don’t fucking yell at him!” You say, scowling at Nikki as he looks back at you.
“We’re gonna get kicked out of the lobby soon.” Mick comments absently.
“Y/N please don’t go.” Tommy begs. “We can talk about this.”
“I’ve made up my mind Tommy.” You say firmly, crossing your arms.
“Where you gonna go, huh?” Nikki asks. “Back home? You live in my house y/n! You can’t go home–I won’t allow it!”
“'Allow it?’” You repeat in a mix of anger and disbelief. “God you have been such a fucking asshole lately! What the hell is wrong with you?” You yell back at him, exasperated. “And for your information no, I’m not going home; I’m going to stay with Nic.”
“Nic?” Nikki looks at you confused. Then, realization spreads across his face. “Oh hoho! You’re going on tour with Razzle and the rest of those fuckers in Hanoi Rocks!”
“What?” Tommy scowls. “You’re going on tour with another band?”
“I’m going to stay with my boyfriend, who is currently in a band that is touring.” You try dodging the question with a half-truth.
Technically Razzle wasn’t your boyfriend yet–but that was only because the two of you didn’t have time to talk about it over the phone before you had to leave to catch your flight. You expected that’s where things were headed though, since you were going to be touring with him now, so it wasn’t a total lie.
“Boyfriend? Since fucking when?” Tommy shouts.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” You snap, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. He had been so desperate and kind a second ago.
“So what? You a fucking groupie now y/n? Huh? You just gonna hop from one band to another whenever it’s convenient for you?” Tommy asks, clearly pissed. You look back at him like you’ve been slapped in the face. You clench your jaw as tears start forming in your eyes.
“Fuck you Tommy.” You whisper, tears sliding down your cheeks.
“Y/N–” He calls out to you, but you ignore him; grabbing your bags and heading out the door.
—
You stand outside waiting for your taxi as the tears continue flowing down your face. It was all too much, and as much as you hated people seeing you cry, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Nikki was changing. It had been happening for awhile, but you had tried to ignore it; made excuses, played it off. Now there was no denying the truth: the brother you knew, who hurt himself to save you from your mother and her shitty boyfriends, who went hungry so you could eat, who took beatings to protect you–he was disappearing. This new Nikki was someone else, someone dark, and controlling. Someone who didn’t care about hurting the people he cared about–even you. You saw less and less of the Nikki you knew everyday, and you worried one day you’d look at your brother’s face and see a stranger staring back at you.
Then there was Tommy. That sweet, simple boy you meet three years ago. Your best friend. There was more to Tommy than that now–maybe there always had been, and you just never saw it. You didn’t understand how Tommy could be so sweet, then act so cruel. You didn’t understand why he got this way about Razzle; it’s like ever since you’d started seeing the other drummer, it had brought out the worst in Tommy.
As you stand under the awning waiting for your taxi, tears still staining your cheeks, you hear the doors to the lobby open behind you. You turn and see Vince and Mick walking toward you. You quickly wipe your face on the back of your arm and smile up at them.
“Hey, sorry you guys had to get stuck in the middle of that.” You say, doing your best to sound cheerful.
“Not the first time we’ve been in the center of a public shitshow; though usually there’s more nudity involved.” Mick says, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. You know he’s trying to cheer you up, and honestly it works. A small giggle escapes your lips.
“We can still fix that if you want to y/n.” Vince says, winking at you. “I’m always down for a little public nudity if you’re involved.”
“I’d like to not get arrested tonight; but thanks anyway Vince.” You say, smirking at him. He shurgs.
“Your loss.” He replies, looking away. After a moment, he looks back at you, a more sincere expression on his face. “By the way y/n, I wanted to say…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at the pavement awkwardly.
“What?” You press. It was unusual for Vince to be at a loss for words. He sighs, then looks back up at you.
“I just wanted to say you shouldn’t listen to Nikki and Tommy–they were being real assholes, and they were wrong.” Your eyes go wide as you stare back at him in shock. You knew Vince and Mick felt bad for you, but you hadn’t really expected them to openly take your side against their bandmates.
“Look, you’re not a bitch, and you’re definitely not a fucking groupie, okay? I mean if you were then I think I got fucking jipped.” He says with a laugh. You’re too surprised to laugh at the joke, not that it was that great to begin with.
“With jokes like that it’s amazing you ever resisted his charms.” Mick comments, and that manages to get a laugh from you. “He is right though; those two were total shitheads and I don’t blame you for wanting to split. You deserve to be happy, and if that frilly English shit makes you happy, then I say go for it.” You’re taken aback by the sincerity in Mick’s words. Vince comes over and puts a hand in your shoulder.
“Look, try not to worry about what Nikki and Tommy said, okay? They’re just pissed because they’re used to having you all to themselves, and they don’t like the idea of having to share you. So go have fun with your English boy toy, and just know we’ll be here if you ever get homesick.” You look back at the two of them, and you feel your heart swell so full it aches.
Nikki and Tommy had been the people you were closest to since the band formed; Nikki was your brother, your rock, your oldest friend. Tommy had quickly grown to be your best friend, your closet companion, the person you trusted most. But you couldn’t forget how much you loved Vince and Mick; they were your brothers just as much as Nikki and Tommy were. You had been through so much with both of them, and just because you were having problems with Tommy and Nikki, you didn’t want to punish Mick and Vince for that.
You feel tears well up in your eyes as you grab hold of Vince, hugging him tightly as you bury your face in the crock of his neck.
“Thanks Vinny.” You say as you squeeze him tighter. “I appreciate it.” You let him go, and his cheeks are flushed as he looks away.
“Yeah, whatever.” He says, and you laugh, whipping your eyes. You move over to Mick and wrap your arms around him.
“Give us a call every once and awhile so we know you’re not dead.” He says, and you laugh as you pull away.
“Yes dad.” You reply sarcastically, and he scowls. You smile, moving to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. His eyes go wide as he stares back at you in surprise. “I promise I’ll call as soon as I get there, okay?” He looks away.
“S'all I’m asking.” He mumbles.
“Hey, why does the old man get a kiss?” Vince whines, and you laugh.
Just then, the taxi pulls up to take you to the airport.
“Well, looks like my ride’s here.” You say, trying to mask your sadness by turning away from them. You move to get your bags, but Vince grabs them before you can. He winks at you, and silently moves to toss them in back of the taxi.
“It’s not forever; I’ll see you guys again in no time.” You say cheerful as you look at Mick, who just nods in response, looking lonely. You take one quick glance back at the lobby doors, before turning to the taxi.
“Thanks for grabbing my bags Vince; maybe there’s a gentleman buried in there somewhere after all.” You say, smirking.
“Don’t hold your breath sweetheart.” Vince jokes, smiling; though you both feel the sadness behind it. As you pass him, you lean in and give him a quick peak on the cheek. You smile as Vince laughs.
“There, now you’re even.” You say, before getting into the taxi. You shut the door, waving out the back window as you watch the two of them get further and further away.
#tommy lee x reader#the dirt!tommy lee x reader#mgk!tommy lee x reader#the dirt x reader#the dirt#tommy lee
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okay so for everyone who hates big corporations and management who takes advantage of their employees.. this one’s for you. it’s long but .... i find it completely hilarious.
so a brief recap: amy got fired back in march from a huge international retailer, yes? when things first started like they were going south, i worked on really re establishing a relationship with my brother who is like one level below C-suite (cfo, ceo, etc etc) of that same company because i had an idea in mind. March rolls around, amy gets fired .. and I’m like .. okay. time to put this in motion. but stress and depression obviously took the motivation away from me, but i continued to keep that line of communication up with my brother. we started talking weekly, sometimes twice a week via an actual call. well, i’m finally feeling better .. so this week i finally put my plan in motion. here’s how it went
stage 1: i sent a text to my brother asking if i applied to the store in my area if i could use him as a reference. he said, of course but every store is hiring so i’d look at any store besides that one. (which is already fucking hilarious but i digress) ... so i call the store and one of the managers who sat in on amy’s firing answers when i ask to speak to someone involved in hiring (oh lucky day). I start off with “hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been looking for a job thats a bit of a change of scenery and my brother is the *insert position name* and works in *insert headquarters location* and he recommended i give the company a try despite that I had a less than stellar experience last time”. And this manager FALLS OVER telling me they are hiring for so many positions blah blah blah and then at the end when i’m like “thanks for the information! I’m definitely going to apply!” she’s like “of course! I’ll give our hiring manager your information so she can pull it immediately. Whats your name?” and i give my name and suddenly its just dead fucking silent... because they know who I am and they know that I’m in a relationship with amy and that i know what they did. But she recovers and is like ‘can’t wait to see your application!’ .. so.. okay. stage 1 was a success. but then, enter...
unexpected event: the store manager himself calls me. Starts off with some small talk, finally gets around to saying ‘so I hear you’d like to come back and work for us? I was looking at your previous application and I didn’t see any mention of the relation you talked about when you called”. And I’m like “oh, yeah... I don’t like using stuff like that because I’d prefer to get in on my own merit and skills and not by a family member’s position. Plus its like that show undercover boss, you know? I get to see what the place is like before they know. BUT given with what happened to amy, I was unsure if I’d even be considered without a reference like that” and he laughs nervously and is like “i totally get it. So did anyone know that you had a brother in that position?” and I’m like “oh i mentioned it once in passing to [amy’s manger] but I just said my brother was in corporate and there are a lot of levels so i think he just left it at that” and the store manager is like ‘haha yeah different levels but thats like ... its own level...” and we talk a little bit and he’s like “what made you want to come back?” and I’m like “like i mentioned before, the amy thing really threw me off. I was angry and the good thing about siblings is you don’t have to sugarcoat stuff. So I went to my brother and was like this is how you treat people?? are you kidding?? what about job security?? and i sent him the picture amy had snapped of her discharge papers where it listed the reason and he told me that, and everything else I yelled at him about, wasn’t the company’s way and that the store had seriously violated something. So for one, I now know that isn’t actually something that should have happened and two, i inadvertently brought this store to corporate’s attention and there are a lot of good people who work here, and they don’t deserve the consequences of that, so I want to help make it right” and he’s fucking sweating yall, I can hear it over the phone. and he’s like “fill out your application and put whatever you want down and we’ll call you and talk about positions and we can find a way to give you what you want” and I’m like “oh, don’t tell me that nick because your chair is looking awfully good right now” and he did a nervous laugh. SO, unexpected event made my plan even better. Then we get to:
Stage 2: I apply. I check literally every management position, including the one they fired amy from and also some hourly positions and put down ridiculous hours. I pass the manager test with flying colors and when it asks why i said i want to be a team trainer i wrote down ‘thanks to knowing the home office, i know how things should work and I want to help this store raise its position in the district and I know what policies aren’t being followed to help make that raise smoother.” I submitted the application, called the first manager I had spoken to and told her I had done so and she was like “I’m sure we’ll give you a call tomorrow!” ‘Tomorrow’ came and by 7 that night, they hadn’t contacted me. So I went to the ‘we’re hiring’ image they had posted on their facebook page like an hour previously and tagged my brother and was like ‘dude this is one of the positions at my store i was telling you about. think i could pull it off?” AND BAM ! they sent me a request for a phone interview at 8am the next morning. I scheduled my interview for later that afternoon at 2:45 and we enter Stage 3.
Stage 3: Amy and I go to the store to pick up a few things. It’s suddenly fucking spotless. There are no gaps in the shelves, the floor has been cleaned since the last time we were there (monday night and i called them tuesday and it is now white and shiny as hell) and they have the lights turned up all the way so you can actually see. EVERY FUCKING AISLE is perfect. Cat food? perfect. Funko pops? stacked and lined up perfectly. Video games? Filled. Clearance aisle? Perfect order. Like its super obvious they did a mad dash and tried to get the store in shape. So amy and I walk down every single aisle and point things out and kind of put our heads together and talk and I take out my phone and act like i’m texting etc .. basically we’re just fucking with people’s heads because the managers are nearby and they can see what we’re doing.
Stage 4: So later we’re home and 2:45 comes and goes with NO word. No phone call, no email, no hey can we reschedule. they FORGOT about the interview. I’m dying because they’re making it even better and even easier to fuck with them. So I text my brother (who KNOWS my mental health has been in the trash) and I’m like “I filled out an application just to see and they set up an interview and blew me off. You were right .. not a great help when it comes to the blues” and he was like “yep...i’d look at literally any other store” and talked to me a bit more about it. He was irritated that they’d do that and kept saying they were on thin ice. Finally at 5 they text me and they’re like “hey, this is the [insert store] and we’re sorry we missed your interview. I wanna apologize. Can we reschedule?” And I wait like an hour and a half (i was napping, i’ll admit it) but I respond with “I apologize for the late response, I had a prior commitment I had to take care of. Unfortunately, I reached out to someone [they know who it is. they know] in the off chance I had misunderstood the process since I hadn’t heard from you guys and I was encouraged to pursue opportunities at other branches in the area. Thank you for the original consideration and I hope you have a great day!” and they waited until 11am the next day to reply back which I’m assuming is because they were waiting for the higher up management to return to the store.
Come to find out the managers are still basically pissing themselves and freaking out because not only did they a) fire someone against company policy and now know the people at the top know and b) drop the ball and forget to interview a family member of said people at the top ... I got to add salt in the wound one more time by mentioning that my brother dropped in a lot (he doesn’t) and that I’d love to show off the store since it’s such a huge part of the community and it was looking better than I’d ever seen it look. And that it would be nice because he’d get the real experience since it wasn’t a formal, announced visit .... but, of course, that he’s salary .. so the policy is that he’s always ‘at work’ and obligated to take note of things.
so basically, i feel justified. Six and a half months of careful planning and maneuvering was totally justified. 10/10, I’d do it again. Let this be a lesson that patience in planning vengeance is completely worth having and I hope I helped make the store better for employees who aren’t management by putting the fear of god into them with the idea that my brother or anyone else from his office can just drop the fuck in whenever they want with a totally casual visit that could still fuck the management over completely. This is a good week, mates .. a very good week. Am I petty? yes. Do i hate their guts and feel like it was an entertainment that was totally worth it given what they did to the love of my life? also yes.
#also if they checked - i'm facebook friends with their international corporate lawyer. my brother obviously and the cfo who i didn't realize#at first was him bc he goes by a different name via facebook. like last name is the same but i think he uses his middle name as his first#i love it. i love it so much.#i planning on doing more stuff but i gotta take a breather and plan it carefully but#god i am L IVING#fuck that place#we laugh because i'm known here for messing with companies that fuck with people#and i did my best one like 3 years ago but amy was just like 'this is 10 miles beyond that'#long post //#i'm sorry for this but i just want to let everyone know the major reason for my incredible mood this week
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Not What This Is | Duncan Taylor x Reader
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: smut, rough sex, choking, derogatory language/dirty talk
a/n: Watch me take another lesser known Rob character and give him some character development instead of working on my other fics oops. Despite Geostorm being a rather mediocre film (hey, I still found it entertaining at least!) and Rob’s character having hardly any screen time and a less than stellar British accent, I was gripped with the need to write this. I might continue writing some drabbles for this character since some plot started to slip in there.
Duncan Taylor was, to put it nicely, a cocky little shit. A brilliant systems analyst, to be sure, but a complete and total arsehole, and you had the very unfortunate honour of having to work in the same unit as him, day in and day out.
Your little rivalry had begun from the very beginning. You’d both been assigned to the O/S division for the Dutch Boy climate control system aboard the International Space Station, when you’d happened to disagree with him on something, calling attention to a fault in one of the programs he was in charge of monitoring.
Ever since then he’d tried to one up you, undermine you, and overall just get under your skin on a daily basis. You knew what some of your colleagues whispered behind your back, that your frequent arguments and back and forth banter was only thinly veiled flirting, which was frankly ridiculous.
Was it? A tiny voice in your head asked. Just because you sometimes happened to look forward to these repartees didn’t mean anything. It was almost enough to drive you mad, so it was peaceful moments like these that you relished when he wasn’t around, his computer chair sitting empty.
“[y/n], you wanna look over that data from yesterday again, please?” Duncan’s smug voice taunted as he ambled into the lab, plopping down at his workstation directly behind yours, letting his computer chair spin slowly to face you.
“Why? Was there something wrong with it?” you asked, looking up from your monitor warily, your lips twitching into a frown.
Duncan shrugged noncommittally, steepling his fingers as he slouched in his chair. “Oh, I dunno, just that an entire sector of satellites nearly went offline, due to a missing string of code,” he mused, frowning exaggeratedly, “Luckily I was there to catch your little mistake and fix it before anything untoward happened, but y’know, nothing major.”
Gritting your teeth you forced a smile, more of a grimace really, in his direction. “Thank you for that, I’m so glad you were able to catch it.”
“Yeah well, you owe me,” he pointed out smugly, his frown turning to a bemused smirk. “I could’ve easily let slip to Ute about it, but I decided to use some discretion, you know? Wouldn’t want to call attention to one of my associate’s mistakes.”
You snorted, rolling your eyes. The thing about it that pissed you off the most was that you were thankful he’d caught it, and you were grateful that the head of your division hadn’t found out or you’d be facing some serious reprimands, but you were still frustrated you’d messed up in the first place, and now he had something to lord over you.
“You know what I’m most confused about, [y/n], is how you could’ve missed somethin’ so glaring as that in the first place,” Duncan continued thoughtfully, studying you with interest and you wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smug grin off his face.
Scoffing again under your breath you spun your chair away from him, focusing back on your computer monitor, not rising to his jabs.
“You know what I think it is, [y/n]? I think you’re so pent up you just can’t think straight. Maybe if you had a good fuck—“
“You’re a prick, Duncan, that’s what I think,” you shot back, your head whipping toward him.
“Maybe so, but tell me, luv, when’s the last time you got laid, huh?” he continued, waggling his thick eyebrows, a suggestive look in his piercing green eyes that sent a strange thrill through you and for half a moment a thought danced through your consciousness, one that sent heat pooling between your thighs before you quickly banished it.
“Fuck off, Duncan, I don’t have time for your games,” you exclaimed, though you couldn’t quite bring yourself to turn away again.
“Who said I’m playin’?” he asked, though you weren’t sure if he were serious or just teasing you.
“I need to get back to work,” you muttered, tearing your gaze from him, though as you focused on your screen once more you could still feel his eyes on you.
——
Running your hands down your face you sighed as you finally pushed away from your workstation, stretching as you stood and knuckling the small of your back, wanting nothing more than a shower and your bunk. Luckily at this hour most of the crew was either relaxing in the lounge, asleep, or just starting a fresh shift, leaving the locker room quite empty. Crossing the room to your locker you nearly jumped out of your skin as Duncan ambled out from around the corner, coming to lean against the lockers next to yours.
“Well well well, fancy running into you here, [y/n],” he drawled, smirking down at you as he leaned closer. “What a pleasant surprise, and here I thought you were trying to avoid me.”
“If only it were that easy,” you grumbled sarcastically, attempting to nudge him out of the way so you could get to your locker.
“Oh come now, luv, don’t be like that,” Duncan pouted, tilting his head, his springy curls falling across his forehead and you idly wondered what it’d feel like to run your fingers through them.
“Be like what? Duncan, please get out of my way,” you huffed making a purposeful shooing motion, but he only stepped closer, caging you in with his arms and your breath caught at his proximity. His eyes found yours and this close you realized you’d never noticed how truly stunning they were before, your thoughts turning unconsciously to your earlier conversation.
He was right, it had been a while, and just the thought of being filled, being touched after so long had arousal gripping you. For a mouthy fucker why did he have to be so damn attractive?
Oh fuck it, you thought, making an impulsive decision as he opened his mouth, no doubt to taunt you further, but you moved first, taking him by surprise as you grabbed his t-shirt by the collar and yanked him to you, your lips colliding with an intensity that stunned you as well, but for once you’d managed to shut Duncan Taylor up.
As soon as your mouths met however, he was kissing you back hungrily, pressing you back against the lockers and you slid your hands into his hair, threading your fingers through the curls you so wanted to touch, drawing a low moan from him as you opened your mouth to him, teasing him with your tongue before his found yours eagerly.
“Oh, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted you, luv,” he groaned as your hands moved from his hair to fumble with the knotted sleeves around the waist of his dark jumpsuit, his hips jerking toward you as you worked to untie them. “Tell me you haven’t thought about me too.”
“I haven’t,” you snapped, but Duncan merely clicked his tongue, amusement flashing across his face.
“You’re lying, darling, clearly. You want me. You want it so bad,” he taunted, grinning down at you, his dark curls falling into his eyes.
“Shut up y’wanker, that’s not what this is,” you exclaimed, but even you knew your argument was feeble.
“Oh really? And that’s why you’re undressing me right now innit? Admit it, [y/n], I think the lady doth protest too much.”
You paused, his words striking a nerve, hitting a little too close to home, and you looked up at him defiantly. “Just shut up and fuck me already,” you growled, “this doesn’t mean anything,” you insisted firmly.
“Oooh, you’re such a bitch, it’s kind of a turn on. Does the bitch want my cock?” Duncan drawled as you finally managed to unzip his suit the rest of the way and reach down to grab him through his boxers, feeling how hard he was for you and drawing a sharp gasp from him as you pulled him free.
Before you knew it he was grasping the zipper at your chest and yanking it down, his mouth hot on your neck as he slipped your suit from your shoulders, working it down your hips before fondling you roughly over your tank top and it was your turn to moan, the sound quickly swallowed as his mouth found yours once more, his tongue forcing its way into between your teeth before he finally pulled away to breathe.
“Turn around for me, luv,” he instructed as he spun you, pressing the side of your face up against the locker, “now pull those knickers down,” he continued, and you hated obeying, but your cunt was throbbing harder now and all you wanted was to be filled. “Now that’s a good girl,” he purred in your ear, a shiver tearing through you as his breath fanned over your cheek and you gasped as he reached around you, slipping his hand between your legs.
“Ohhh,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to the nape of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, “I knew you were lyin’ about wantin’ me, else why would you be so fucking wet, huh darling?” he teased, his fingers circling your clit maddeningly and you let out another shuddering moan as he pushed one digit into you. “Oh fuck, you’re practically dripping,” he groaned, lust drenching his words.
“Bend over farther,” he commanded hastily and you did, spreading your legs as far as you could with your jumpsuit round your ankles and you pressed your chest to the lockers, sticking your ass out to give him better access to your pussy, hating how needy he made you feel.
“Oh, good girl,” he purred and your breathing hitched as he gave your ass a quick slap and you felt the tip of his cock tease your folds, coating himself with your slick before pressing into you slowly, his moan turning you on even further. “Oh fuck your fanny’s so tight,” he groaned, thrusting in and out slowly as he held your hips steady. “God, you feel amazing.”
“Are you always so chatty when you fuck?” you couldn’t help but ask, desperately wanting him to shut up. “Less talking, more fucking,” you exclaimed, biting your lip to stifle a moan as his hips snapped against your ass.
“Ahh--!” you gasped, rocking against the lockers, unable to kept quiet. “F-fuck, Duncan.”
“Yeah, like that? You’re such a little slut, protesting, playing so hard t’get, and then turning around and practically begging for it. Tell me what you want, [y/n],” he drawled, a command in his voice.
“I want you to fuck me, Duncan,” you hissed, crying out as he thrust into you again hard.
“You’re gunna have to be quiet if you wanna cum, luv,” he grunted as he began to fuck you in earnest, his hips snapping into you with abandon, his cock hitting you just right, the ridge of his head rubbing against your g-spot to send wave after wave of pleasure through you.
Fighting back a series of moans you arched back against him as he rut into you, his hand slipping up your body to caress your neck, squeezing just tight enough for you to feel it, your breaths coming harder.
“Do you like that, you dirty, kinky girl?” he asked, whispering in your ear, his voice strained with the effort of keeping quiet. “Do you like when I choke you?”
“Yes,” you sighed involuntarily, finding to your great surprise that you did enjoy it, heat and arousal flooding you the first time he did it and you wanted more. “Please, Duncan,” you whined and you wondered if he was grinning, picturing that smug smirk just perfectly.
“Oh God, you beg so nicely too,” he groaned as his hand tightened around your throat once more, squeezing tighter til you saw little sunbursts, your knees buckling and you jerked as his other hand slipped to your cunt again, mashing his fingers against your little bundle of nerves and rubbing frantically as he continued to pound into your relentlessly from behind.
Duncan’s heavy breathing, the lewd slap of skin against skin, and the pounding of your pulse filled your ears and you fleetingly wondered just how far the sounds of your exertions were carrying. You could feel yourself plateauing, that hovering quivering heat that felt like the calm right before the storm and then suddenly your muscles tensed, your climax gripping you violently, pushing you off that cliff and you fought to keep from crying out, the sweet pain of Duncan’s overstimulation pushing you further as he didn’t stop.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed as you clenched around him and his grip on your throat loosened, though his fingers on your clit didn’t stop and your legs gave a dangerous wobble, nearly giving out beneath you.
“Don’t you dare — cum inside me,” you gasped, twisting in his grip to glare at him over your shoulder and he flashed you a strained smile, the look of pleasure on his face disarming you for a moment.
“Whatever you say, luv,” he groaned, and suddenly he was forcing you forward as he pulled out of you, his cock nestling against your ass before you felt his warm seed spill over your skin, pumping several times before he finally released you.
“Hold on, let me get that for you,” he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse and then you felt a rough cloth wipe the sticky mess from your backside with a surprising gentleness before you quickly pulled your knickers back up along with your jumpsuit and reluctantly turned around to face him. The strangely tender look you caught on his face surprised you before his usual smarmy grin quickly returned.
“Now that you’ve had a good fuck d’you think you can finally focus now?” he taunted, rewrapping his jumpsuit sleeves around his waist. “Or… maybe we’ll need t’make this a reoccurring thing to keep that pretty little head of yours clear,” he said poking his finger to your forehead cheekily.
“Oh, piss off Duncan,” you snapped feebly, brushing his hand away and trying to push past him.
“Oh, no, I can see it in your eyes, you enjoyed that. I made you feel good,” he insisted, following you, quickly cutting you off. “You’re gunna be thinking about my cock for the foreseeable future.”
Despite your internal protests to the contrary your face burned with the knowledge that you wanted to fuck him again, that once was not going to be enough.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Duncan. You coulda been anyone and this was just a one time thing.”
“You just keep telling yourself that, luv,” he quipped, completely sure of himself before leaning down to steal a peck to your lips, turning and walking away with a decided pep to his step, whistling cheerily as he went.
Groaning under your breath you nearly collapsed against the lockers, breathing heavily as the gravity of what you’d just done hit you. It wasn’t exactly like what you were doing could be considered fraternizing, seeing as you couldn’t stand each other. Right?
Groaning again you opened your locker and quickly undressed, taking a very quick, very cold shower before heading back to your bunk, but it didn’t help. Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, the pleasant ache between your thighs served as a constant reminder of what happened in the locker room with the smug fellow Englishman who it was getting harder for you to convince yourself you hated.
#geostorm#duncan taylor#duncan taylor smut#duncan taylor x reader#robert sheehan character fic#my writing
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