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convergencegameparts · 3 months

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Convergence Game Parts

Website: https://www.convergencegameparts.com/

Address: Colorado Springs, Colorado, USA

Convergence Game Parts specializes in crafting high-quality 3D printed terrain and accessories to enhance your tabletop wargaming experience. From medieval kingdoms for Settlers of Catan to modular palisade wall segments, our products are designed to bring your gaming world to life. Our services include limited runs, custom orders, and educational events on 3D printing to help you personalize your gaming setup.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ConvergenceGameParts

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PartsGame

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isaut · 1 month

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googoo gaga over this man. divorcee au

“I never really learned how to dance,” Rex admits.

The kitchen illuminates the two of you as well as the evening light. Pasta simmers on the stove in front of you, and two fine glasses of wine stand before each of you. Jazz music plays from your record player, which inspired your swaying and Rex’s commentary.

“No?” You ask.

“No,” Rex affirms.

“Not even for your wedding?”

Rex brings his wine glass to his lips. “No. Just kind of swayed.”

“That’s a shame,” you say.

“You like dancing then, I guess.”

“I love it.”

There’s a pause. Rex sets down the glass and comes to stand beside you and the hot stove. His hand rests on your lower back, sliding to your hip.

“You seem like you do.”

You smile, fluttering your lashes up at him. “Do I?”

Rex nods. “You like a lot of stuff I don’t know about. But I don’t mind. I’m learning.”

You’re learning too. Your pupils turn to hearts when he starts talking about physics over dinner. Blindly, you take his advice when you play Risk and Catan together.

Arguably speaking, you’ve been much slower to unravel the little bits about you that Rex craves to learn. So much of it had been boxed away over the past year and some, forced away from lack of time, lack of emotional energy, lack of dance partner.

“I’ll teach you, if you want,” you offer.

Rex’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

You nod. The timer for the pasta goes off, and Rex moves to your other side, hand still lingering on you as you drain the grains and add it to the sauce.

“‘S easier with some music than others. I think jazz is the easiest.”

A piece of pasta plops outside of the saucepan as you stir. Rex plucks up the rigatoni and pops it in his mouth. “What makes you say that?”

You shrug. “Sounds like living, y’know?”

“I don’t. I haven’t really listened to jazz like that.”

Turning your head, you regard Rex. Your stirring pauses. “No?”

“Nah.”

Your stirring resumes.

Rex lounges on your couch, cocktail in hand. Leftovers have been tucked away in the fridge, dishes in the dishwasher. You’re crouched before your record player and the collection of records, flipping through them.

Eventually, you come across a mini record, one with only four songs on it, and lift it up, reading the title just to remind yourself what it is.

“We’ll start with this,” you say, looking over at Rex. You don’t think he’s moved his gaze from you since he sat down. His eyes are warm, like liquid amber in the low lights.

“What is it?” Rex asks.

“This is the Roland Kirk Quartet,” you say, slipping the record onto the turntable, listening to it buzz to life. “I picked it up when I was studying abroad in Cairo.”

“Really?” Rex asks.

Nodding, you come to sit beside Rex. He shifts, so his arm spreads out along the back of the couch.

Rex tilts his head to the side, gaze lingering along your profile. “Were you just buying records?”

You smile. “Mostly. I was supposed to be learning about the pigments used to decorate sarcophagi. But I spent a lot more time… not doing that.”

Rex shakes his head and smiles. Takes a sip of his drink, almost in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” He asks when he turns back to you, voice a murmur.

“What do you mean?” You ask, matching his tone, gaze fluttering about his face.

“You could be anywhere…” but I’m glad you’re here.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit quietly, over trumpets and tapping ride cymbals. “I’m making it up as I go.”

Rex smiles. The corners of his eyes crease. “I think we all are.”

Humming, you rest your head to the side. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Rex says. “I know so.”

“You do? How?”

“We don’t need to get into all of that,” Rex says. “You just have to trust me.”

“Okay,” you say, all too easily.

A grin spreads across your face as Rex leans in closer to you.

“Are you going to teach me to dance, sweetheart? Or just sit here and look pretty?”

With a hum, you bite your bottom lip for a moment. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Yeah,” Rex says. “I’d be blind not to.”

You let the comment linger for a moment. “Can I be honest?”

“Yeah,” Rex breathes.

“I don’t know how to teach you to dance.”

“Who taught you how to dance?”

Your eyes search Rex’s. “My dad.”

Rex exhales, relieved. “I thought you were going to say your ex.”

You laugh, reaching to hold Rex’s arm. “No, thank goodness. Can you imagine?”

“I was imagining it, and I didn’t like it,” Rex says, matching your smile.

“I’ll teach you, but I require something in return.”

“And what is that?”

“A kiss.” You’re so close to Rex now anyways, lips hovering inches away from each other. One grand sway and you’d be attached.

“Just one?” Rex asks.

You nod. He bows his head further. His breath ghosts against your lips. You fight the urge to wet your lips.

His lips press against yours. Firm. Soft. He pulls away with eyes just as soft as yours.

“Maybe we can just kiss a little bit,” you whisper, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Rex ducks his head beside you, reaching around you to set his drink on your coffee table. His hand, cool from the condensation, rests on your thigh.

“Just a little bit,” you repeat.

“We can kiss for as long as you’d like,” Rex murmurs. “There’s nothing I’d rather do more.”

With a giggle that sounds far too youthful, you bat your lashes up at him. The hand on your thigh squeezes.

“I do want to learn to dance,” Rex continues. “I need to be able to keep up with you.”

You decide, in that moment, that you can kiss him while you dance. Fluidly, you stand, holding out a hand for Rex. He regards it for a moment, then takes it, only to pull you back down on the couch. You go with a gasp.

Rex stands, smoothing a hand down his front before offering one out to you.

With a flush high on your cheeks, you take Rex’s hand in your own. He pulls you up, hand resting on your lower back. You loop your hands around his neck, pressing against him.

Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against his once more.

“There aren’t any rules,” you murmur, shaking your hair back so it falls along your backside. “You just kind of let… Let your body listen.”

Rex’s hands rest on your hips. You flutter your lashes up. “So what is your body hearing?”

His body is hearing a lot of things. It’s the blood in his ears, the warmth beneath his fingertips. The gaze down your shirt. The tug of your earrings against your earlobes.

Sensing his unresponsiveness, you take it upon yourself to make the first move. You press your leg against his, moving it backwards. Rex follows suit, then takes another step backwards. Then forwards. Then again. Then backwards. Then again.

The rhythm builds. You move in fluid motions together, back and forth, until you pull away from him, leading him to a more open space in your living room, twirling yourself under his arm, pulling back before pulling yourself in. Like breathing.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” you say, smiling up at Rex. With a hand on his chest, you lean back up to meet him for another kiss. He meets you for it gladly.

Your shuffling feet come to a standstill, in favor of moving your lips against each other. Gentle, fluid motions. Opening and closing. Like a valve on your heart with every beat.

“Is this what your body is telling you?” You ask, not bothering to open your eyes, asking the question directly against Rex’s lips.

He nods. “Yeah.”

Your fingers scratch against where his buzzed hair meets his neck. Your lips find him again. The jazz music comes to a halt as the record reaches the last note on the A side. Neither of you move from where you’re standing, lips passing against each other.

One of Rex’s hands trails up to rest on your waist, the other firmly on your hip. You keep your hand firmly on the back of his neck. You don’t actually need to worry about him leaving, but you want all the assurance that he won’t.

It feels like you’re overstepping a line when your tongue swipes along his lower lip. Hopeful. Lustful. Shy.

Rex pulls you in closer, arching your back as he responds to the kiss. His mouth opens. He sighs into you.

It feels wonderful. You need to catch your breath but you don’t care. Instead, you reciprocate tenfold. Press along his body. Ignore the hard points of each other’s bodies in favor of the softness within each other’s mouths.

Rex’s hand comes to press between your shoulder blades before it lowers back to your waist. He takes a sharp breath as he pulls away, leaving you chasing after him.

“We were dancing,” Rex breathes.

You inhale. “Yeah, we were.”

Dancing could have multiple meanings.

“Let’s keep going.”

You do. Your feet move alongside Rex’s light as a feather. Your fingers interlock and separate– Rex likes spinning you. Likes when your back is against his chest, likes when you’re smiling up at him. Likes how easy going you look, how relieved. How carefree, how joyous.

He wonders if you feel loved. Because he feels it, exploding from his chest. It’s almost overwhelming, how much love he feels. Feels wrong, to some degree.

Eventually, when the two of you collapse back onto the couch, with your legs over Rex’s, and your bodies too close, Rex closes his eyes. Leans his head back, takes deep breaths of the candle-hinted air.

Neither of you say a word. Instead, you bask in the silence. In the steady breaths.

You debate inviting Rex to spend the night. You have a guest bedroom. You have your bedroom. Your bed.

Instead, you say goodbye to him at your door. Steal another kiss while the door is closed, as if someone would see the two of you in your bubbling summertime romance phase. And when the door is open, you wave to him, still in the clothes you put on just for him to come over. He waves back, and keeps glancing over his shoulder as he walks back to his truck.

You don’t close the door until he’s at the stop sign. Until he turns left, and out of your sight.

#captain rex x reader #divorcee au #rexlia

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astars-things · 23 hours

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"You promised..." with nico and Hischier daughter!Reader. The reader just wants to spend time with her dad and nico had promised that they'd have a game night but the guys ask him to come out for a drink. She comes downstairs with all of the board games and nico is ready to leave to hangout with the guys.

nico Hischier x daughter!Reader.

"You promised..." I whispered, clutching the stack of board games to my chest. My voice trembled, barely audible over the sounds of Dad rushing about in the hallway. He paused, hand frozen on the doorknob, and turned to face me. His eyes, usually warm and full of life, looked pained and conflicted.

"Y/N," he began, running a hand through his messy hair. "I know I did, but—"

"But the guys," I interrupted, a hint of bitterness seeping into my tone. "I know. You always say that."

Dad sighed, glancing down at his watch. "It's just one drink. I'll be back before you know it. We can still play when I get home."

I stared at the stack of games in my arms—Monopoly, Clue, Candy Land, and our favorite, Settlers of Catan. Each one held memories of laughter and bonding, of rare moments when it was just the two of us. Dad was always so busy, his time consumed by practices, games, and events. Nights like this, where he promised to be all mine, were precious.

"You always say that too," I muttered, more to myself than to him. But he heard it, and I saw the guilt flash across his face.

He took a step towards me, his eyes softening. "Y/N, I love spending time with you. You know that, right? It's just... the team, they rely on me too."

I bit my lip, fighting back the sting of tears. "I rely on you, Dad. You promised tonight would be our night."

He glanced at his phone, which buzzed insistently in his pocket. "I know, sweetheart. How about this—I'll text the guys, tell them I'll be late. We'll play one game, and then I'll go. Deal?"

It wasn't what I wanted, but it was better than nothing. I nodded reluctantly, setting the games down on the coffee table. "One game. But you have to let me win."

Dad laughed, a genuine, warm sound that made my heart ache a little less. "Deal," he agreed, ruffling my hair as he passed by to grab a soda from the kitchen.

We settled on the floor, the living room cozy with the soft glow of the lamps. I chose Settlers of Catan, setting up the board while Dad read through the rules, pretending like he didn't already know them by heart. It was our routine, a small ritual that made the game feel special every time.

As we played, I could see the tension slowly leaving Dad's shoulders. His phone buzzed a few times, but he ignored it, focusing entirely on the game. For those brief moments, it was like nothing else existed but the two of us and the colorful hexagons on the board.

I managed to secure a victory, Dad playfully accusing me of cheating as he handed over the win. We laughed, the room echoing with our shared joy. It was perfect, just like I’d hoped.

But then reality intruded. His phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. He glanced at the screen and sighed, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders.

"I have to go now, Y/N," he said, standing up and stretching. "But that was fun. We'll do it again soon, I promise."

I forced a smile, nodding even though I knew soon might be weeks away. "Okay, Dad. Have fun."

He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. "Love you, kiddo. I'll be back before you know it."

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. The living room felt emptier without him, the board games scattered on the table like forgotten promises. I sighed, gathering up the pieces and putting them away.

I knew Dad loved me, that he tried his best to balance everything. But sometimes, I wished his promises were more than just words. Sometimes, I wished I didn't have to share him with the rest of the world.

As I climbed the stairs to my room, I made a promise to myself: next time, I wouldn't let him leave so easily. Next time, I’d make sure our night together was too important to break.

part 2-> here

#send in requests #imagines #thanks anon!#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #Nico Hischier x daughter!reader

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tickle-bugs · 3 months

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Stupid in Love

Summary: Nick Miller is completely, 100% normal about all things Jessica Day. Including her smile, her laugh--ah, fuck. He's doomed. NickJess ft. pining!Nick

Anon: I just saw you write for New Girl! I am in my yearly rewatch of the show so I am so happy you write for it! Maybe the loft gang and CeCe can be playing a game of true American and somehow during the game it comes out that Jess is incredibly ticklish. Everyone is too focused on the game to use it to their advantage at the moment, but nick remembers and maybe later when him and Jess are together, he decided to test his new found knowledge and see just how ticklish Jess really is.

While this isn’t set during a particular episode, I was thinking HEAVILY about s2 ep15, Cooler. One of the greatest episodes of the whole show, hands down. I just wanted to write pining Nick tbh.

True American is the best goddamn game ever invented. It defines a man at his core level. Everything that’s ever mattered to Nick is on the line in this game. His dignity, his pride, his dignity…

He honestly can’t remember what they’re playing for. Something involving the sink. Or a drink? Unclear, but irrelevant. Nick is the king of an aluminum can palace and his citizens will thrive under his leadership. This is his birthright.

They’re playing True American: Catan Edition tonight. Each player defends their own small nations and attempts to crush the others, throwing their leaders to the molten lava below. It’s the smartest thing Winston’s ever come up with.

“Duel for my amusement,” Nick slurs, waving his paper towel roll scepter around. The cardboard crown on his head slips down over his eyes. Cece blows a raspberry at him. He lobs a balled-up piece of paper at her.

Jess plays a fanfare into her backup kazoo—Schmidt threw away her main one—and draws angry eyebrows onto the smiley face of her country’s flag. A declaration of war.

Sober Jess is all for political progress and human rights, but Drunk Jess? Maniacal, power-hungry, and so very hot.

Focus, Miller.

“Two, four, six, eight! Who do we appreciate?” Jess climbs onto one of the kitchen chairs and puts a colander on her head. A warrior’s helm. Nick smiles at her.

In their corner of the living room, Winston and Schmidt whisper furiously. At some point in the last hour, Winston had ascended to Grand Advisor of Schmidt’s Creek. Schmidt had lost the ability to speak after can number two, when Cece had flirted him out of all of his natural resources and a third of his land. Nick had been trying to think of how to poach Winston to Nicklandia, but he couldn’t think of a plan that didn’t involve saying ‘please’ until he passed out.

“Schmidt’s Creek will not challenge today!” Winston crushes his beer can against Schmidt’s forehead. Schmidt doesn’t even blink.

“Ruth Gader Binsburg! I challenge your weird little colony, Jess,” Cece shouts, messily hopping onto the chair next to Jess. They start some combination of swatting at each other and clutching on for dear life. Schmidt looks up at Cece like a drunk, lovesick puppy. Nick rolls his eyes.

Thank god he doesn’t look like that.

Does he look like that?

Shit. He’s missing the game.

“Yeah? Guess what—” Jess knocks her knuckles against the colander helmet, winces, and then points at Cece— “I’m the Queen of England, bitch.”

Nick’s not sure what’s elapsed in the apparently three years since he was last paying attention, but he knows by the way that Cece gasps that someone’s dying on the living room and/or kitchen floor tonight. Jess cackles and puts her hands on her hips. They start yelling, but even if they’re saying real human words, which he’s pretty sure they’re not, he’s not processing it. Jess looks so stupid in that little holey hat—someone should invent a word for that thing—and she’s adorable.

Nick leans his cheek on his palm and smiles wider. Does she know her nose scrunches when she’s annoyed?

Nick leans a little too far and loses his balance. Half of his aluminum fortress tumbles down. When he looks back up, Jess and Cece haven’t budged. Or blinked. Cece squints at Jess and it’s clear the conversation has ascended to psychic levels that even Drunk Nick can’t access. He tries though. Mostly gives himself a headache.

Something in their eye conversation must shift, because Cece gets this look on her face. Like pure, concentrated mischief. The aura off of her is so powerful that everyone scoots back a bit. Cece starts stretching and cracking her knuckles.

“Waitwaitwait, Cece, you don’t have to do this.” Jess holds her hands up in immediate surrender, but she’s smiling hard enough to brighten the room. A little nervous giggle picks up in the back of her throat and she starts to turn pinker than the boxed rosé that forms her section of the living room.

“Oh, but I do. Surrender. Now.” Cece points to the floor. Which is lava. Cruel way to go.

Jess looks at her best friend with the kind of profound resignation only possible when piss drunk. She sighs deeply, staring at the floor…

And then launches herself at Cece with a war cry.

Cece doesn’t even flinch. She catches Jess, smirks, and starts tickling her sides with vicious precision. Jess lets out a giggly shriek and crumples, sinking right down into the lava. The colander tumbles off of her head and rolls into Nick’s fortress.

The sound worms itself into Nick’s brain, taking up residence alongside all the other little Jess things that drive him nuts. It distracts him hard enough that by the time Winston arises as Supreme Leader of the Loft, Nick can’t even trace the path of his defeat.

………

Even when sobriety beats them over the head the next morning, Nick can remember nothing but the sweet music of Jess’s laugh. And the shape of her smile.

God he’s hopeless.

The slow march of the week brings some relief in the sense that a) Nick remembers that he really doesn’t do the whole ‘feelings’ thing and b) alcohol makes anyone look like an angel walking the earth. He is a grown ass man and Jess is an annoying little craft goblin. He can be normal. She’s normal. No need to get worked up over her.

“You look like Mr. Rogers’s grumpy cousin.” Jess snickers, fiddling with the sleeve of Nick’s hideous cardigan.

“You done? You finished?” He pulls his sleeve away from her. It’s really Schmidt’s, which she very well knows. Nick’s only wearing it because Schmidt’s being weird about Cece again, and the only way to survive that is to bend to his will. Schmidt’s already dehydrated himself twice this week trying to show off his muscles more, Nick doesn’t want to add to that by making the guy cry. He’d never stop.

Jess, however, doesn’t seem to understand the magnitude of this manly sacrifice. She’s too busy laughing at him.

“Mmmm, no, I don’t think I am. You look like a Muppet.” She pinches his cheek. He rolls his eyes.

“Well, that’s just a compliment.”

“No, no. You look like the bird. The bird with the eyebrows—“ Jess pauses as her giggles overtake her— “You look like Sam the Eagle.”

Jess folds over into his shoulder with laughter and smacks his chest. The warmth of it almost distracts him from the comment.

Almost.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Jess. C’mere—“ He drags her across the couch by the ankle and latches onto her sides. She makes that adorable sound again, that giggly shriek, and flails like a worm on a hook. She tries to push his face away. He swats her hands aside like it’s nothing. When reaches for him again—futile, really—he snatches her wrists in one hand, pins them down, and tickles with the other.

Her whole face burns. He chooses to ignore it for both of their sakes.

“Let me know when you’re ready to apologize. Take your time.” He does a little pinchy thing with his fingers and Jess lets out a high-pitched mess of syllables. She throws her head back and cackles, arching up into him.

“Hmm, yeah, see none of that sounded like ‘You’re the best, Nick Miller’. Try again.” He pokes all over her torso, fast and wild. He lets go of her and adds his other hand into the mix. Every time she tries to talk, he speeds up, making her laugh at his silliness along with his hands. She kicks her legs and lets out a little giggly growl. Nick smiles so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Nick!” She grabs his wrists but doesn’t stop him. His stomach flips. She’s so overwhelming.

“That’s my name.” He skitters his fingers up her ribs to distract himself from the lump in his throat.

Jess flails and nearly takes them both off the couch and into the next life. Nick catches himself before he collapses on top of her, but it puts their faces mere inches apart. The space of a breath. He can see the faint freckles across her nose, all brought forth by the pink flush down her cheeks and neck. As she catches her breath, lips parted, her laughter simmers low in her chest. He brushes her hair out of her face. His hand lingers on her cheek.

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles. Does she know that?

Nick gets the deep, burning urge to kiss her senseless. To download all these embarrassing, vulnerable thoughts from his brain to hers. To show her how deep this goes. To drink of her like the wine at restaurants he can never afford.

No. Not like this. She deserves better than this.

Than him.

He starts to pull away, awkwardly clearing his throat. Jess surges forward and Nick’s stupid little monkey brain gleefully claps its hands together, shouting this is it! It’s happening! Nick’s brain activity screeches to a halt. He stares at her mouth and freezes.

Jess flips them over and starts tickling his ears like some kind of insane supervillain.

“No! Jessica!” He turtles and attempts to fling himself to safety. All he accomplishes is hanging off the back of the couch, leaving his knees in reach of Jess’s evil nails—

One day he will be smart about Jessica Day, but he concedes that it won’t be today. But as she destroys him and Schmidt’s stupid, hopefully inexpensive cardigan, he secretly hopes the day never arrives.

#my fics #new girl #nickjess #ticklish!jess day #jess day #nick miller #not v proud of this one but it was fun attempting nick's inner voice #hope u enjoy new girl anon! thank u for ur patience <3

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w1ldthoughts · 6 months

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(Not so) Happy Birthday Part II

A/n: thank you all so much for your patience I hope this was worth the wait!

Part I

“Are you serious?” You heard a groaning voice behind you, belonging to your friend Jade who you’d been staying with. “How many times are you going to watch A Star Is Born? It’s getting concerning.”

You let out a small laugh, digging into what was your second popcorn bowl of the day. “I’m going to keep watching it until they live happily ever after. Or until I feel less bad about where my life is headed.” She sits down next to you and lets you rest your head on her shoulder while you desperately try not to cry for the second time today. The first week after the breakup you allowed yourself several meltdowns a day, the next week just one and this week you were really trying to keep it together as much as humanly possible. Needless to say, with your movie selections and inability to turn the camera or microphone on during your work meetings on Zoom in case you did get overwhelmed, things weren’t looking good.

“Do you think I made a mistake? Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled the trigger so fast and heard him out?”

Jade’s sigh gave you the answer you weren’t wanting to hear, but told you everything you needed to know. “Look, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. But I am going to tell you that you are going to have to go over there and grab your stuff. You can’t just live in my clothes for the rest of your life. This depressive state cannot last forever.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll text him now and make sure I’m only there when he’s at the facility.”

The next morning you found yourself in a very familiar place. Everything was spotless like no one even lived there. But the place was full of some of your most fond memories. The spot in front of the fridge where you kissed Justin for the first time. The couch where you spent many nights watching movies or looking for missing cards from a Settlers of Catan game that had Justin flipping the board over when Patrick beat him. So much time spent in the bedroom you were standing in now, where all of your things remained exactly where you’d left them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pack your stuff. I really wanted to—make it easier for you but, that just made it more real that you were really gone.”

Of course he came home just for this.

The sound of his voice should have startled you but it brought you peace instead, it was a sad form of validation to see and hear that he was also struggling. “Is that why you haven’t slept in your bed?” You ask, finally feeling brave enough to turn and face him. He looked good, tired but good.

He lets out a dry chuckle. “You really don’t miss a thing do you? I’ve been sleeping in the guest room near the office. Didn’t feel right being here alone. But I understand why you left. And I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am y/n.”

“Well… are you sorry enough to help me pack up all of this stuff?” Under the guise of your humor, he could tell this was the very last thing you wanted to do so he just nodded and got to work.

The next few hours were spent packing and loading things into your car, every box held a piece of him in it. He held the last one in his hands and stopped you as you grabbed your keys.

“I want to be the man you deserve. And I promise I’m working on it.”

You motion for him to put the box on the floor and he does so immediately, gladly welcoming your body into his arms. This is where you wanted to be for all of eternity, without worrying about the real world and ignoring your intuition and just letting your heart cloud what your brain has been yelling at you since you walked away from him. You pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, running your fingers through his hair and watching him melt into your touch. This is your home, this is the man you love. So why in the world would you walk away from it? Letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the distance between you two became nonexistent and all you could think about was giving into this moment and letting it all go. You closed your eyes and felt him inch closer and closer to your face.

And then you remembered everything that went wrong.

“Justin, I’m so sorry. I can’t.” You pulled away from him. “I need you to show me you’re trying. The best apology is changed behavior. As embarrassing as it is to admit, part of me will always belong to you and I need you to either match my energy or I need to move on because I can’t keep living like this. I’m not going to.” You picked up the box yourself and walked as fast as you could back to your car and drove away without a second glance. If this was going to work, he was going to have to earn you back.

“Should I throw her a makeup birthday party?”

Keenan and Derwin both look at each other and shake their heads. “Her birthday was like a month ago bro, a little cake and some flowers isn’t gonna do shit for you now.”

“How am I going to show her how much I care about her?”

Derwin places a hand on his shoulder, “you gotta dig deep, Herbo. Think about what the fight was about and deal with the problem head on. And be honest with her…and yourself.”

“Aye…that was deep man. I didn’t know you had all that in the drafts.” The wide receiver nods at his teammate. “But forreal Herb, do what you gotta do to get your lady back man. You got a good one, make sure she knows that.”

“No you’re right. We gotta beat Denver first and then I can figure out what to do after that. Thank you guys.”

Keenan stands up to dap him up before they head to practice. “You know we got you brother.”

He had to admit the protection had been pretty shaky all game. The quarterback felt rushed and had little to no time in the pocket before getting hit and the receivers had been struggling heavily with drops the last few weeks. The offense had just not been rolling in the way he hoped and their playoff window was closing quickly. On 2nd and 7 he threw a zip pass to Donald Parham over the middle for a first down, bracing himself for impact as Zach Allen, the Broncos’ 285 pound defensive end, came running at him. Their bodies got tangled up on the way down and somewhere in the fold his index finger got stuck as the rest of his body continued its descent to the turf. Something was off and he knew it but continued to play until the drive was over. The trainers looked him over on the sidelines and decided it would be best to take him back into the locker room for an x-ray.

Meanwhile, you had it been able to resist turning on the game, having watched everything unfold. But this time all you could do was sit in anticipation instead of going straight to the tunnel and speak with the staff. You’d been here before. You've seen this. He’d broken another finger just weeks earlier against Las Vegas but they’d just thrown a shit ton of tape on it and he went right back in. But this was his throwing hand, his money maker and admittedly, it had you worried. You opted to send him a quick text letting him know you hoped everything was okay, even if your gut was telling you it wasn’t.

Justin slammed his helmet down looking at the x-ray results and threw a hoodie on to head back out onto the field and cheer on his guys. The physical pain in his finger paled in comparison to how he was feeling mentally. He’s let down his teammates, his guys. The coaches. The fans. All these people that were counting on him were going to be disappointed. With four weeks left in the season he knew it was a long shot to try and play again. But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing everything in his power to try to be ready until the doctors gave him the official word that he couldn’t. After the game was over and he headed to the locker room to change, he shot you a text back that he was fine and headed to his post game presser.

You know that feeling when you don’t even remember going to sleep until you open your eyes and question your entire existence? Yeah that’s what was happening to you now. The knock on the door startled you out of a sleep you didn’t even mean to take and you sleepily stood up from your seat on Jade’s couch and opened the door.

The man on the other side of it had you thinking you might still be asleep. But there he really was, hand heavily taped and in a splint. At least his hair was finally dry. “I’m so sorry for coming by so late, is Jade asleep? Were you?”

“She’s out with some guy tonight and you’re fine. What are you doing here, what’s going on?”

You step aside to let him in and close the door behind him. “I lied to you earlier. And then I realized that I was making the same mistakes that got us in this mess so I got an Uber and wanted to finally be honest. With you.”

“Justin what are you—what do you mean?”

“I’m not fine,” he states with a shaky sigh. “I signed this big contract in the offseason and was on top of the world. This is my team, you know? I’m the guy. They trusted me with all this money and I don’t even know if I deserve it anymore. I let them down and now I’m not even sure I’ll get to play with these guys again this year. And I don’t even know why my first instinct is always to tell you that I’m okay. Maybe I’m trying to spare your feelings and not burden you with this ‘whoa is me’ attitude but I do want to tell you everything. I—I trust you with my life, I just haven’t been acting like it. You’re the only one I want to tell everything to and I haven’t been treating you like my partner and I’m sorry for letting it get this bad.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before speaking. “Justin I need to tell you something and I need you to listen to everything I’m about to say.” He nods and waits for you to continue. “You. Deserve. Everything. Okay? I mean god this team is probably winless without you. You’ve willed them to be competitive ALL year and somehow along the way you’ve been convinced that this is your fault. It’s not you. You are NOT the problem. If anything babe, you’re the fucking standard. You set records, you are who everyone compares their quarterback to and you know why? Because you have rallied those guys and they believe in you. Your organization believes in you. I believe in you.”

“Thank you for saying that,” he whispers, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. “And I know I can’t erase the past or what I did but you’re everything I could ever want. Much more than I’ve ever asked for. And I fucked up the best thing I had. There isn’t a moment that I don’t think about it. Maybe…we could start over? Not forget any of the mistakes that were made along the way but learn from them. Clean slate, so I can earn your trust back.”

He waits for you to respond, the silence quickly killing his confidence. Maybe he really had lost you for good. You look down at the floor in sadness, still unsure about if this one conversation was enough to change the course of your relationship. Justin doesn’t wait any longer, kissing you on the forehead and walking out the front door. The quarterback sat in the Uber with a heavy sigh, trying to come to terms with the chaos of his professional and personal life. A few hours later when he couldn’t sleep in anticipation of his doctor’s appointment in a few hours, there was a knock at the door.

“I’m so sorry to bother you this late but I just couldn’t shake this feeling that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Oh I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, I’m y/n.”

Justin’s smile takes over his face, dimple in full display. “It’s nice to meet you y/n, I’m Justin.”

Maybe, just maybe…what started with the worst birthday of your life could be a really funny story to tell your grandkids someday.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert angst

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eastwindmlk · 4 months

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In the cards

So,I originally wrote this for the Bittersweet challenge for @jilytoberfest where, and I got to turn an angsty quote into a sweet one. “You have given me so much pain.” has inspired this cracktacular piece of fiction. It did get yoinked at some point, but I will reupload for your consideration this @jilymicrofics (807 words) Enjoy!

Game night was always a big thing with the Potters. It was the one night a week when no one was allowed to make other plans. They took turns picking and bringing games, ordered food and poured generously from whatever alcohol was being served that night. It was cosy. Something to look forward to during the week. This was one of those weeks that James really looked forward to a night of friendly competition and hours of conversation.

Depending on whose turn it was to pick the game, the night turned out differently. James favoured co-op games, working together to get to the goal. Sirius, on the other hand, liked trivia games, things that he knew he would excel at. Peter preferred the silly sort of game, something active and guaranteed to give you the giggles. Remus always seemed to find amazing niche games with complicated plots and mysteries. Rich in storytelling and creative solutions.

And then there was Lily. Lily had a way of finding the most competitive, aggravating, friendship-ending games. Which had all started with Monopoly, a game that was now banned from the table. As a direct result of a gruelling, no-prisoners game that lasted seven hours before they collectively gave up. Which launched a series of game nights that only a masochist would enjoy. So clearly, all of them had the time of their life.

Other games brought by the redhead and subsequently banned were: Sorry, Settlers of Catan, Scrabble and for unrelated reasons charades. Which they mutually agreed was better kept for when they were forced to stay family-friendly. It did not always go wrong though. There had been a few fine games and one that everyone seemed to enjoy a lot more, despite multiple squabbles and disagreements. Risk, which was added to the permanent rotation.

Tonight was Lily’s turn and everyone was equal parts excited and apprehensive. Hoping she would finally fail in her streak of finding the worst games. So, when James got him and saw the pack of cards sitting on the table in the living room. He was relieved. Cards were usually fine. They had several card games they rotated. But this was Lily they were talking about.

For a moment James inspected the package, it looked innocent enough. Pretty straightforward too. But this was Lily. He was sure that there was some chaos involved, but he really could not see too much pain in a card game called UNO. Little did he know just how wrong he would be.

The first few rounds were rather tame. While the rules were simple, everyone seemed to hold back a little. Testing the waters. Not wanting to get into too much trouble until after dinner. Much to Remus’s dismay, Chinese food arrived. Halting the round for everyone to eat their fill and crack open another bottle of wine.

What happened next was the most unfortunate set of circumstances James could have ever imagined. He was riding high with only two cards left in his hand, the colour in his favour and he even had a mythical plus four cards ready to mess with Remus on his right. But right before the round could get to him Sirius threw down a skip card, moving his turn to Remus instead. Which was disappointing, but he could do another round.

Or not. Luck seemed to be smiling down on him when Remus reversed the turn order. That is where it all went wrong for him. Emboldened by his stroke of luck, he threw down the plus four proudly announcing: “Uno!” He smirked along the table when he caught the glint in Lily’s eye. And as if in slow motion he watched Sirius place a plus two on the board. Watching Lily doubt what card she should be putting down, made him nervous. For good reason too. Watching her place down another plus four.

Peter added a plus two, deciding on the colour red. His lucky colour. Which did not let him down when Remus was merciful, playing a reverse card. Seemingly saving him from his fate. The rollercoaster continues with Lily putting on a third plus four. It was now all up to Sirius, who paused just long enough for James to remark: “You have given me so much pain already. Just do it.”

Deflating when his friend placed down another plus two. Making the total cards he was drawing sixteen. Enough cards to force them to reshuffle the pile just so he could draw more. Muttering, much to everyone’s entertainment. “Lils picked this game alright.” Feeling hands on his shoulders from all sides. Consoling what would be a devastating loss on his part. Something only mildly mediated by Lily saying “Don’t worry love, I will make it up to you when everyone leaves.” Her wink made him feel only a little better.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jily fic #jple #jily microfic

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bambiraptorx · 6 months

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JUST LIKE THE MEME

exactly like the meme.

Also, Raph canonically ate soaking wet salami, so I like to think that he has some weird eating habits. Chess pieces are far from the strangest thing this boy has put in his mouth. I reference it later in the fic too, with a throwaway line about him eating Catan pieces.

#asks #bambi's rambling #the art is something i drew months ago but its still fun lol #raph's face is so silly

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freakshowtwopointoh · 2 months

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Limoreau playing videogames or boardgames and Jordan is shocked at how good Marie is at them, so much they stop trying to go easy, but she still beats them. (I'll let you decide the game, lol). Could be a group thing as well.

After trying to teach Marie a few video games, Jordan was a little wary of how board game night was going to go. She had a pretty rough time with both Baldur's Gate and Fortnite - hours spent bribing her to keep trying only to watch her full on rage quit after dying one too many times, insisting that she would never play again.

She seemed confident today, however. This should have made them more nervous, but when it came to Marie, they never seemed to learn their lesson: don't underestimate her.

"You know, we can totally do teams if you're nervous." They hedged, side eyeing her as they made their way up the stairs to Luke's apartment.

"You sure you're not nervous, babe?" She teased, squeezing his hand. They rolled their eyes and pulled her into the apartment.

The setting was welcoming enough - colorful bowls of snacks, a variety of liquor bottles lined up haphazardly on a card table. And a variety of games, stacking on Luke's secondhand dining room table.

"Ready to go down, Li?" Emma came bounding into the room, nearly colliding into him before throwing her arms around their body. "Also, hi."

"Hi to you too, Blondie." They mumbled, hugging her back awkwardly.

More hugs were had and taunts were shared as everyone made their way into the main room, sipping drinks and debating which game to play.

"If we try playing Pandemic again, I will riot." Andre said defiantly. "I'm so fucking tired of losing that game."

"Let's play monopoly." Jordan said dryly, earning confused looks from everyone but Cate and Marie. "I'm fucking with you guys, obviously. No one likes monopoly."

"What about Catan?" Cate suggests innocently, but her eyes shine playfully.

"You're just saying that because you always win." Andre complained, but he was already pulling the box out.

"I can't help being the best. It's a good game!" She retorted playfully, tossing her hair back.

"Is that the one with the castles?" Emma whispered loudly to Sam.

"No, that's Carcassonne. This is the one with the sheep and the little guy who steals stuff." Jordan and Luke both stifled a laugh as Emma nodded in understanding.

"Right! Ok I don't remember how to play this one." As Sam explained the rules to Emma, Jordan turned to Marie.

"Have you played this before?" He whispered softly in her ear, resting their hand on her thigh. She nodded, a soft smile playing on her full lips.

"Yeah, I played it a few times at Red River. They said it would help encourage 'nonviolent competition'." She chuckled slightly, resting her hand over theirs.

"Ok so... Luke, you go first." Sam concluded, after explaining the game to Emma (very patiently) for the third time. Luke rolled the dice, and the game began.

Now, the thing that Jordan loved and hated about Catan was that you can't always tell who is winning. It makes for a more interesting game, yes, but it also means that it is very easy to get overly confident. Especially when they could see the confusion on Emma's face throughout the game, as she slowly became drunker and more interested in making towers with her pieces than actually playing.

Marie's hand inched slightly up their thigh as they were rolling the dice, a clear attempt at distracting them. They shifted, unwilling to let her know it was working. The smirk on her lips revealed that she already knew. Damned blood powers. They shook their head slightly, trying to stay on task.

"Dude, I'm like, about to win," Andre said, slurring slightly as he continued to refuse to give Jordan a sheep.

"If you're 'like about to win' then it doesn't matter and you should give me the sheep!" She retorted, pushing their slightly longer hair from their eyes as she tried to figure out how to build their next city.

"It doesn't matter if he's about to win, because I win." Marie said calmly, placing a road piece at a key intersection and extracting the longest road card from in front of Cate.

They turned to her in shock, double checking her math.

"I'm offended that you don't trust me." She teased, watching their jaw work as they realize how easily she snuck up on them. "I told you I've played this game before." Cate was equally dumbfounded, trying to ascertain how she missed Marie's slow and steady climb to victory.

"Did Marie actually beat Cate at Catan? I was beginning to believe her reign would never end." Sam said, chuckling.

"I always knew you could do it." Emma slurred, smiling at her friend.

"You were barely paying attention. I watched you rebuild that tiny log cabin at least three times." Jordan retorted, her ego slightly bruised after losing to their girlfriend.

"Yeah, well, I didn't have to pay attention to know that she'd kick ass."

"Sure." Jordan said, rolling their eyes playfully before turning back to her girlfriend.

"One of these days you'll learn not to underestimate me, baby." Marie murmured in their ear, watching with satisfaction as they squirmed in their seat. "You can make it up to me later."

And that's when Marie finally wins the actual game she's been playing all night long: a blush creeps up Jordan's neck and onto their cheeks. Their night is just getting started.

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simplepotatofarmer · 4 months

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What if instead of a bell, Techno asked XD for a collection of board games to play with Dream until Phil tp'd him. What games would they play and how would it go?

all i know is that they would invent strip versions of each one (dream's idea, techno has more clothing so he really doesn't care), techno would bully the hell out dream for so many reasons (he picks the really lame monopoly piece and he takes what job he gets in life very seriously), both of them get really into settlers of catan, and things get a little too real during operation when dream makes an off-hand comment about how this is just like one of quackity's torture sessions and techno is like 'alright that's enough games for today'.

#loyal talks about stuff and things #dreblr #rivals duo #technoblade #dreamwastaken #dsmp headcanon

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paperstorm · 10 months

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I love Tk and his lil “nerdy” interests haha

- lizards (need I say more)

- gets offended over someone thinking Catan is boring (same level of offended-ness as his hubby stealing chocolate puddings)

- genuinely believing that his dad would be excited to assemble 1000 pieces of “dogs playing poker” puzzle (til this day I still laugh at how that was Carlos & TK choice of puzzle for owen, not some basic beautiful scenery but it has to be DOGS PLAYING POKER and the way they weren’t even trying to be comedic about it)

The idea of TK and Carlos doing puzzles together with coffee and blankets on a Sunday is too cute to stomach I actually might stop living. He’s so CUTE with all the unexpected things he’s passionate about 🥺

#911ls asks

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beneathsilverstars · 1 day

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more ISAT board game hcs, now that i've consulted w my boardgamer family:

Siffrin carries Set around in a pocket bc they love playing so much. (The goal of the game is to be the fastest to pick out visual sets of cards like so)

Odile likes long games where turns are taken 1 by 1, person by person, because she can read a book between turns, but still be playing and thus part of the socialization ritual

Siffrin has above average luck in Settlers of Catan on his turns - "please be six, please be six, please be six"

Isabeau would absolutely CRUSH everyone playing root (an assymetric strategy game where everyone plays as various factions of cute little woodland creatures). He's cute and nice and sociable, but also totally capable of taking your pieces, and smart enough to set up for getting half the needed VP in one turn and taking a victory no one saw coming

Hive is chess-like enough that Odile always wins, and Siffrin can't remember what he was trying to do and always loses because he can never pull a strategy together. Bonnie plays because they like the bug theme

They all love telestrations! (which is a party game where person A writes a sentence/phrase, person B draws it, person C looks at just B's drawing and writes a sentence describing it, D looks at just C's sentence and draws it, etc. It's very silly.)

#isat

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im-overstimulated-and-im-sad · 20 days

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🤹‍♀️ please and as many as you want <3

🤹 - give a hidden talent to every main character-

TK- (may not be hidden) but like they say people never forgets a face- TK never forgets anyone he meets. Everyone he’s talked to for thirty seconds if he sees them again he’s like how is your kids/dog/knitting project going? And if Carlos is with him, people he’s never met are excitedly saying “you’re the famous Carlos? TK told us all about you!!”

Carlos- (may be cheating because I wrote a fic based on this) Carlos is very good at getting someone to sleep- he has mastered the art of swaddling and if his sisters are in town they use him shamelessly to get their kids to sleep- and this comes in handy when his husband wakes up, he can always help him get back to sleep

Nancy- Nancy has an incredible memory- most of what she’s ever read she has retained somewhat and has all the codes they use memorized.

Marjan- Marjan secretly loves finger knitting as something to do with her hands and de-stress. She makes bracelets and belts but doesn’t broadcast it until TK happens upon one and gets excited tk show them off.

Paul- Paul is unbeatable at almost any game- he takes losing in Catan very hard because previously he had never lost a game of scrabble or Yahtzee in his life.

Mateo- Mateo is really good at finding things- like if ever Owen is like okay my phone was right here where was it even if he wasn’t in the room Mateo will come in and find it in nothing flat

Judd- Judd is really good at reading out loud- (like Marjan says with that drawl he talks the slowest) and he finds that he loves reading books to his daughter and doing different voices for the characters

Grace- Grace has remarkable eyes- like she can pick a contact lens out of a shag carpet. If there’s ever a stray piece of plastic or glass from something dropped, Judd would have her scan the area to make sure she got everything

Tommy- Tommy is scarily good at parallel parking- like no matter what car or how tight the spot, she will get it in there with ease

Owen- Through his love of aliens, Owen is a fountain of knowledge for National parks and different places of interest across the US. Anyone calls one out he can name where the natural attractions are in almost any given state and several around areas with a lot of alien activity.

Thank you for the ask 🥰

#answered asks #911 lone star

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astars-things · 9 hours

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https://www.tumblr.com/astars-things/752818300061384704/you-promised-with-nico-and-hischier

hello i love this!! maybe a continued blurb when nico notices she stops asking to play and hang out and he notices how little she try’s to talk to him anymore

Nico Hischier x daughter!reader

part 1

One night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind drifting through memories of laughter and shared moments. The door creaked open, and Dad peeked his head in. "You still awake, Y/N?"

I rolled over, pretending to be asleep. I heard him sigh softly, the door closing with a quiet click. Once he was gone, I turned back, staring at the closed door with a mix of longing and resignation. Things had changed, and I wasn't sure they could go back to how they were.

Downstairs, Nico Hischier sat on the edge of the couch, his phone forgotten beside him. The house was silent, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock. He picked up a board game piece that had fallen under the coffee table—a small, colorful hexagon from Settlers of Catan. Turning it over in his hands, he felt a pang of nostalgia mixed with regret.

Nico couldn't help but notice the distance that had grown between him and his daughter. She no longer asked to play board games, no longer waited eagerly for their game nights. The living room, once filled with their laughter and playful banter, now seemed cold and empty.

He remembered the night he had left for a drink with the guys, promising to return soon. But soon had turned into too long, and the memory of her disappointment haunted him. He had been caught up in his own world, forgetting the promises he made to the person who mattered most.

It had been months since that night, and since then, Y/N had stopped asking. She had stopped trying. Nico felt the loss deeply, the silence between them more deafening than any argument could have been. He missed their game nights, the way her eyes lit up with excitement, the way they connected over something as simple as a board game.

Nico glanced up the stairs, the darkness swallowing the view of her closed bedroom door. He wanted to fix things, to bridge the gap that had grown between them, but he didn't know how. He felt lost, unsure if she even wanted to spend time with him anymore.

The next morning, he found her in the kitchen, eating breakfast before school. He hesitated in the doorway, then forced a smile. "Good morning, Y/N."

"Morning," she replied without looking up, her voice flat.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" he asked, hoping for a chance to reconnect.

"Homework," she said simply, not giving him a chance to suggest otherwise.

Nico swallowed, the rejection stinging more than he wanted to admit. "Maybe we could play a game later? Just one, like old times?"

Y/N paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for sincerity. For a moment, he thought she might say yes. But then she shook her head. "I'm busy, Dad. Maybe some other time."

His heart sank, but he nodded, forcing another smile. "Okay. Some other time."

#send in requests #imagines #thanks anon!#nico hischier x reader #Nico Hischier x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #nhl imagine #nj devils

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