#it has the potential!!!!!!!!! to be one of the best games ever!!! and its just sitting collecting dust because they made it for the fucking

[emptylotfiasco]

yeah they need to remaster kurohyou

#its good but you cant stop thinking about how much harder it would smack if they gave it the level of functionality of other yakuza games #it has the potential!!!!!!!!! to be one of the best games ever!!! and its just sitting collecting dust because they made it for the fucking #psp of all things. the music is amazing this combat is too fun and interesting to leave alone #theres so many minigames in there like kareoke and love in heart that are usually awesome but are just not good bc of hardware #limitations or maybe budget idk like it came out before dead souls in 2010 but in my mind i am comparing it to y1 because #it plays pretty similarly with the fixed camera angles and a few other things but its less functional and that was 5 years ago growls #i donr think theres a risk with people not taking to the characters well because obviously that isnt true with any other spinoffs they made #yakuza 0 is a prequel and its literally the most popular PLEASE. PLEASE I NEED TO SEE HIM SO BADLY. GIVE TATSUYA HIS POLYGONS i need this #it could be so good... what could have been...

[poorlittlevampire]

barbie fashion show was like. top three games of my childhood i think abt it all the time

#actually part of whats keeping my hopes up for fashion dreamer is the design element #bc even if... they really did take away owning a boutique..... #designing clothes and showcasing them in some way is also very fun and has a lot of potential #i just. :-( i will miss the boutique dearly #since the design element in that kind of game is only HALF of the gameplay #in fashion show the other half was then designing and putting on the fashion shows fr #(as in designing the stage. picking the music. directing the models. etc) #so if all fashion dreamer has is designing + ‘liking’ the influencers or whatever #then it will feel very. empty #ANYWAYS YAAAA BARBIER FASHION SHOW easily one of the best games ever and def shaped the kinds of games i enjoy #the other two would be sims and pokemon #wuhhhhh its so hard to pick a top three tbh #aoe runescape TONS of nintendo games... too many to pick from #also sidenote i only had fashion show installed on my grandma’s computer bc we either didnt have one yet or it wasnt able to run the game #and so every time i was at my grandmas id sit in her office designing clothes and then call her in to watch the fashion shows and it was #so much fun #aaaaaa #all of my happiest memories are with my grandma wowowow i love her so much

[reasonsforhope]

hey, how do you cope with people saying we only have a small amount of time left to stop the worst effects of climate change? no matter how hopeful and ok i am, that always sends me back into a spiral :(

A few different ways

1. The biggest one is that I do math. Because renewable energy is growing exponentially

Up until basically 2021 to now, all of the climate change models were based on the idea that our ability to handle climate change will grow linearly. But that's wrong: it's growing exponentially, most of all in the green energy sector. And we're finally starting to see proof of this - and that it's going to keep going.

And many types of climate change mitigation serve as multipliers for other types. Like building a big combo in a video game.

Change has been rapidly accelerating and I genuinely believe that it's going to happen much faster than anyone is currently predicting

2. A lot of the most exciting and groundbreaking things happening around climate change are happening in developing nations, so they're not on most people's radars.

But they will expand, as developing nations are widely undergoing a massive boom in infrastructure, development, and quality of life - and as they collaborate and communicate with each other in doing so

3. Every country, state, city, province, town, nonprofit, community, and movement is basically its own test case

We're going to figure out the best ways to handle things in a remarkably quick amount of time, because everyone is trying out solutions at once. Instead of doing 100 different studies on solutions in order, we get try out 100 (more like 10,000) different versions of different solutions simultaneously, and then figure out which ones worked best and why. The spread of solutions becomes infinitely faster, especially as more and more of the world gets access to the internet and other key infrastructure

4. There's a very real chance that many of the impacts of climate change will be reversible

Yeah, you read that right.

Will it take a while? Yes. But we're mostly talking a few decades to a few centuries, which is NOTHING in geological history terms.

We have more proof than ever of just how resilient nature is. Major rivers are being restored from dried up or dead to thriving ecosystems in under a decade. Life bounces back so fast when we let it.

I know there's a lot of skepticism about carbon capture and carbon removal. That's reasonable, some of those projects are definitely bs (mostly the ones run by gas companies, involving carbon credits, and/or trying to pump CO2 thousands of feet underground)

But there's very real potential for carbon removal through restoring ecosystems and regenerative agriculture

The research into carbon removal has also just exploded in the past three years, so there are almost certainly more and better technologies to come

There's also some promising developments in industrial carbon removal, especially this process of harvesting atmospheric CO2 and other air pollution to make baking soda and other industrially useful chemicals

As we take carbon out of the air in larger amounts, less heat will be trapped in the atmosphere

If less heat is trapped in the atmosphere, then the planet will start to cool down

If the planet starts to cool down, a lot of things will stabilize again. And they'll probably start to stabilize pretty quickly

#Anonymous #ask #me #carbon removal #carbon sequestration #carbon emissions #air pollution #forests #afforestation #wetlands #regenerative farming #regenerative agriculture #agriculture #renewable energy #renewable electricity #solar power #wind power #climate change #climate anxiety #climate resilience #good news #hope #hope posting

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 8TH 2 FAST 2 FURIOUS ━━ yoichi isagi + overstimulation !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. yoichi isagi + overstimulation. if winning a street race means getting ravaged by your ex boyfriend over the hood of your car then… move bitch! get out the way! (5.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, street-racer!au, exes to lovers, toxic relationships, overstimulation, scratching, fingering, sweat kink, pain kink, food play (candy), dry humping, multiple/forced orgasms, oral sex (f!recieving), public sex, possesive sex, unprotected sex, street racer + fem!reader, ex boyfriend + street racer!yoichi isagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. slay! the third kinktober installment is here! i hope you guys like this one, isagi makes me so dizzy...i think he has the bes dirty talk!! enjoy mwah mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

there’s something about street racing that just…gets you off. 

you’ve always enjoyed its thrill, the way having control over the wheel makes you feel when you push yourself to top speeds. adrenaline becomes your new dopamine. like a drug injected straight into your veins — driving makes you feel high. more alive than anything.

the glamourous pink S2K that you drive is your lover, the unpredictable twists and turns of the race course — your best friend. you adore beating men at their own game and looking absolutely fucking stunning at the same time. though, what you love the most, is the thrill of chasing after yoichi isagi.

next to you — your on and off boyfriend, isagi, is probably the best street racer in town. an unpolished gem of untapped potential and a beast of a driver. though with a man like that, competitiveness between you both comes easy — like a third party in your own relationship. its been that way since you met, the two of you falling into the toxic cycle of, racing, winning fucking and breaking up.

and as bad as it sounds, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“you lose tonight, precious,” isagi wipes the grease from his knuckles with a rag as he approaches your car, cocking his head to the side with a smile so twisted it sends a pang of heat from your head to your core. together or not, he’s always had this effect on you — like a fog sweeping over your mind or the oceans waves pulling you under. “and we get back together.” 

“boy, don’t you know i have a race to win?” leaning over the hood of your car, it’s your turn to tilt your head to the side — like a puppy dog, mocking him. your lashes flutter against your cheeks as you peer up at him, the pink of your tongue wrapping around finding a centre point for the bubblegum you’re blowing. it pops on its own. all the while,  a flirtatious confidence seeps from your bones into the night air, luring isagi into your usual game of cat and mouse right before you’re due to race. “i don’t need any distractions, ‘ichi.” 

you can’t help but revel in the way that he shudders upon hearing your name drip from his lips, like the finest and purest form of honey. out of all the girls he’s ever known, you’re the only one who gets him riled up like this without even trying — activating his raw instincts, that carnal desire he always has for you that he keeps locked away whenever you’re not together. 

“baby,” crouching down to your height, isagi smirks as your predatory gaze follows his actions like a vixen in the night. “you know i’d never mess up a race of yours on purpose.” one of his elbows comes up to rest on your hood, the glittery vinyl stickers reflecting against the deep ocean blue in his eyes. your ex lets the weight of his head rest in his palm, a faux pout on his lips as he speaks to you. “how about it, wanna make a bet?” 

you inch closer, close enough for isagi to catch a the whiff of strawberry candy in your breath over the thick sexual tension brewing between you both. “wha’do i get if i win?” you hum slyly, blowing another bubble into the face of your ex lover. 

yoichi mirrors your movements, sliding closer to you so that he lick through your bubblegum, landing a breath’s width away from your sugar-coated and syrupy lips. “you win, ‘n i promise to leave you alone forever.” he rasps, pushing past the lustful tone lodged in his throat. 

standing to your full height, you ruffle his midnight locks with a condescending air about it. “oh baby, you’re so silly.” the superlicious murder slips from between your perfectly glossed lips before you even think to stop it, accompanied by your light laughter. testing your man’s patience has always been your strong suit. 

but before you have a chance to walk away, isagi hooks his fingers through your belt loops and tugs you flush against his tone frame — chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. “what, you don’t like those terms?” he huffs. “i thought they were perfectly reasonable.

“it’s just that… it’s cute that you think winning me back works that way.” shaking your head, you fail to let isagi have the last word and finally manage to pull yourself from the tendrils of his grip before you become putty in his arms and a mess under his gaze — that twisted mix of annoyance and desire already turning within your stomach, oozing into your nether regions in the form of liquid lust.

“fuck me,” a breathless and playful chuckle resounds in isagi’s throat like a tune base boosted on the stereo, only interrupted by a slick statement that serves to frustrate you even more. “so you’re sayin’ you don’t miss playin’ with my joystick?” he calls out to you while you’re still in eyeshot of his cerulean orbs — the ones that track the sway of your hips as you walk away from him. isagi wants nothing more than to dig his fingertips into the fat at your waist, pull your hips over his hardening cock as blood pulses through it and make you eat those words. 

but he also knows, and from experience, the more pissed off you are — the better you’ll race and the more you’ll want to fuck him later on. 

“i’ll start missing it when you get the right set of tools.” you sing back, sending a wink his way as you hope into the driver's seat of your precious pink baby, shooing off the girls who’d helped you prep your S2K for the race. he watches as you wave to your competitors, buttering them up with your charm before you leave them in the dust. 

and even though he has no right to be jealous — especially when you’re broken up like this, isagi can’t help but want admit to you how seeing you race makes him feel. like now — how you drive right up rin itoshi’s ass and curse at him  to ‘bend over’. everything has sex crazed hormones rushing to his cock and his head gets a little dizzy like he’s been inhaling car fumes and diesel for too long. you fuck him up like no girl ever has before — he’s completely obssesed with you, the ups and downs and fall out of your messy relationship. 

he wants you. feverishly, carnally, and in every way possible and as you pull up in first place after the race — isagi realises, it’s not the race that makes him feel alive.

it’s always going to be you. 

“you’re so fuckin’ frustrating.”

the cash prize isn’t the only good thing about winning your races, it’s the way isagi lives to devour you whole afterwards. 

dark ocean eyes drink in the way your back arches from the hood of your car and it’s cool metal surface — chasing isagi in the heated and humid air, while his hips rock against your cunt almost in tune with the music in the background. the tune of your celebrations. “am i?” you grin, wild and delirious and breathless. “it’s not my fault. thought i told you to quit chasin’ me, yoichi.” 

you giggle, earning a delicious twitch of his dick between your panty-clad folds, spreading a delicious layer of arousal over his clothes. your rival racerpretends to ignore your antics, knowing that he’ll only get riled up and instead focuses on tugging down your flimsy tank top to reveal your sweat shined skin. 

“you could never get rid of me, baby.” you’ve never been immune to the charm of isagi’s hypnotic voice paired with his teasing rows of pearly white teeth that coast over your flesh until goosebumps rise over its expanse. your ex has a way about him, a way that makes it hard for you to shut him out and easier for you to hold your breath and deprive it of the oxygen you need to think clearly. 

to think about escaping this toxicity. 

sloppy kisses to taste the salt on your skin turn to little bite marks, barely there whilst leaving a warm shine to your throat — the temperature proving to be a lustful contrast to the cold metal of your car. he licks and sucks at you possessively, even when other racers pass by and in the back of your mind you briefly recall bachira hollering at the two of you loudly.

just as you reach out to him and wave back, yoichi grabs your wrists in one rough palm and pins them above your head — chuckling into the trail of wet smooches he drags down to your tits, followed by a wild whine that resonates deep in his chest when his cockhead catches on your rock hard clit from behind the many barriers of your clothes. you huff at your newfound restriction. 

a slow, cocky smile spreads over the film of isagi’s lips as if he’s remembered something about your body, that only he knows, in your time apart. how it anticipates and tingles while waiting for his every move, craves to be ravaged and torn apart by him. “focus on me, baby. don’t miss what’s most important to you.” he drawls, gentle notes of condensation slipping into his usually chipper voice. “me.” 

lifting his head from your chest expectantly, being a gentleman and waiting for your consent to kiss. another laugh escapes him when you writhe desperately in yoichi’s grip and wrap your legs around his taut waist to drag him closer for the lip lock you deserve. your prize for being such a winner. he follows your lead, selfishly trapping your lower lip between his teeth before toppling into a hungry kiss — his devious tongue delving it’s way into your mouth to claim it’s every inch possessively. the more you kiss, the more it knocks the lollipop on your mouth about.

all the while, isagi never stops grinding against you — cockhead oozing precum over your cotton decorated pussy lips and budding clit, painting you in the early signs of his arousal. the heat in the air only carries the scent of your sex and mingled notes of diesel fuel — enough to make you dizzy and crave more friction from the street racer as he ruts between your thighs. you’re growing delicious, letting ecstasy trickle through your veins and onto the hood of your car while yoichi drags his cock through your silken slit over and over again until his clothes and his erection are dripping in your sweet juices.

“didnt plan ever plan on… on g-gettin’ rid of ya, pretty boy.” you say through thready breaths, using the strength in your thighs to squeeze isagi close. maybe it’s the adrenaline from your racing high or the fact that isagi cages you in against the car, using his free hand to pinch and pull at sensitive parts of you while he humps at your fluttering and sopping mound — whatever it is, you can feel an orgasm approaching faster than you can register. 

tucking your lollipop into your cheek, you gaze up at isagi with glassy, angel eyes — your mouth open as you pant his praises like a common whore. “did you miss me? i know he did.” then, your eyes shoot down to the rough outline of his dick as it makes you shudder, sex clenching over the veins on his shaft while you practically ride your ex’s precum loaded tip. your dirty talk earns a hearty moan from isagi, his tongue rolling out of his mouth like a dog in rut while he laps at the sweat bearing on your collar bones and neck. “missed my cock so much.” you goad adoringly, a little sick and a little twisted. 

your possession over him fills isagi’s body with concerning amounts of desire and only serves to make him feral — snapping his hips into you faster and harder. his blue eyes drown in an ocean of mirth as they hone in on the light bounce of your chest, his tongue drips in the taste of your light perspiration while he finds his voice over your salacious bump and grind. 

“missed you too baby. missed my fuckin’ pussy,” yoichi grunts selfishly, breathing heavy against your skin and adding to your chorus of shared high pitched moans the closer you get. with one hard thrust, isagi has your unused little hole drooling and your head flying back onto the car’s hood, banging against the metal. the pain only fuels the expanding fire of desire burning bright in your lower tummy — raising the temperature between your bodies. “she’s so sensitive, guess you haven’t fucked anyone while i’ve been gone.” 

his voices oozes condensation, messes with your mind and drags you under the control of your toxic and selfishly possessive ex. it’s like he lives for the the way your thighs quiver around his waist and give all your neediness away, you can’t hide anything from him. he puts your pleasure under a microscope. 

“you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” isagi grins evilly, letting go of your hands as he watches you tremble and spasm and twitch beneath him. rendered useless against the very car that got you to win your race. 

he’s not wrong, however, for the knot that had been tightening up in your lower tummy begins to unravel too fast for your own liking. an orgasm crashes down on you like a heavy storm that’s escaped isagi’s deep blue eyes and he bucks into you monstrously through it all — hardly giving you a second to breath. your release pours out of you in a clear stream, your eyes disappearing into your skull and your shaky fingers into the roots of your ex’s hair as you tug on it to ground yourself. 

it gets everywhere, seeps through your ex boyfriend’s clothes, splashes against your S2K and gathers in a pool beneath your shaky ass. yoichi coaches you through it with soft, loving praises as if you’d never been broken up. kisses that make your knees knock and breath hitch. you cum so fast, so hard and so soon that your lollipop rolls out from between your swollen spit slicked lips, but isagi is quick to grasp the sugary treat dragging it over your them and down your body. 

he follows it’s sticky trail over your clothes, sucking its flavour from the planes of your skin. the sound of tearing fabric flies under the bustling crowd and revving engines — isagi having ripped off your shorts to expose your temperate, glistening mound to the night air and gleam of car headlights. 

“h-holy shit, ichi! wait—!”

your nails sharply rake at the racer’s scalp in surprise, shocked at the warm-ish sensation of your lollipop pressing against your budding clit as it throbs between the slickness of your folds. “awh, is it sensitive? good.” he tuts down at you menacingly, his voice lowers scratching at the patch of your brain that controls your lustful drive. with the sweet treat still in his grasp, isagi rubs tight circles into your pleasure centre and grind to himself when your thighs instinctively jump apart to give him a better view of the even sweeter dessert between your thighs. 

he knows you. inside and out. 

knows what you even with how on-off your relationship is — as if he’s always been genetically programmed to make you feel good, get you that same high racing gives you. yoichi crouches, no longer standing over you so that he can get a whiff of your scent — the musk of your sex more dizzying than the fumes of gasoline throughout the track. “wanna taste you gorgeous, while you’re still cummin’ for me.” he groans, deep and hungry like he’s been waiting to eat a good fucking meal all day. “that okay?” 

“please…fuckin’ hurry.”  comes your impatient reply, bucking your hips up into the humid air as you chase the friction of the candy against your clit. you feel as though you’re seated right on the edge of another orgasm, inches away from crumbling off of the cliff of euphoria. “you’re so slow,” you heave again, head lolling to the side with your drool oozing onto the hood of your pretty pink car. “see you never learned how to use your…oh—! tools!”

your voice escapes you, shock intertwining with the electrical spark of desire running down the length of your spine to the heartbeat in your pussy. you’re surprised once more when isagi gently nudged the lollipop past your entrance to tease you — ripping it away when you gush like you’re about to cum.

sitting up and resting on your elbows, you glare down into mischievous blue eyes as he pops the candy into his mouth. “mother fucker.” 

“alright, watch it.” the corner of isagi’s lips quirk up into a cocky smirk, enjoying how you writhe against cool metal in contrast to how hot your skin is to the touch. like a furnace, burning from the inside out. 

“you said you wanted to taste me!” you whine, auffovating in the humidity and anticipation. you want him to touch you, but the ghost of kisses he presses along your inner thighs just aren’t enough. 

“i didn’t say i was gonna eat you out though, pretty girl.” isagi whispers, pushing the lollipop into his cheek so he can focus on sucking an array of marks into the swell of your to leave his claim on you. the pointed edge of his teeth sink into the doughy flesh, imprinting a ring of bite marks in place as well. “dunno, don’t think you deserve it.” 

he simply rolls his eyes in response, grunting as he spreads you even further — revealing the webs of cloudy slick that tie your shaky limbs together. yoichi drags a finger through your puffy pussy lips, it’s tip dragging on the silken strings of your arousal until he’s able to circle it over your clenching entrance. 

you let out a defiant whimper, hips rising from your car while a trail of your sweet juices ruin the paint job on your car. “hate you.” comes your weak whisper, trapped in the lodges of your throat while isagi pressed further into your tight little hole and stretches you open. 

“yeah whatever.” he grins lazily, warm breath fanning over your pulsating mound while his nose nudges your sensitive clit. “that’s why you keep coming back to me, precious.” 

the sensation makes your hips buck up, chasing the delicious friction of your ex’s fingertips against your soaked ribbed walls as they ripple around him.  but isagi lives to punish you, make you work for your pleasure or torture you with it for leaving him the dust each and every time. his free hand splays over your navel, pinning you to your own car as a second finger joins the first inside of you — instantly curling to bare down on your spongy g-spot.

the cry that escapes you is raw and powerful, louder than any engine in any model of car — serving to remind isagi of where you are, how on display you are for the hungry eyes of his competitors. he takes this as a chance to remind everyone of who you belong to. no matter how much of a hot shot racer you are, you’ll always belong right underneath yoichi isagi. 

he does nothing to soothe your whimpers and cries, thrusting his fingers deep into your squelching pussy as it echoes into the parking lot in a sweet symphony with your moans. you drool into the seat his palm, thrash on the hood of your car and squeeze down on him with a grip so tight isagi fears that you’ll never let him go. 

“you’re so tense, baby. relax for me,” the man mumbles darkly against your sex. “what’ll make you feel good? should i play with this cute little clit too?” pressing a loving and syrupy kiss to the pleasure nub, isagi moans at your arousal as it pearls on his eager lips. “oh i knew you’d like that. my girl always likes it when her man plays with this messy pussy.” spitting onto your cunt, a sick laugh rumbles in yoichi’s throat as he fucks the frothy mixture back into you, drinking in the way you whine and writhe about the place. all for him. “c’mon, louder baby. let the people hear how pretty you are. how good i’m making you feel.”

saliva coats your tongue, making difficult to breathe between the languid push and pull of isagi’s fingers as they stroke at your insides. he has you ruined, for any other man—  sticky and sloppy between the thighs. the both of you know that only he can get you like this. 

and the sick part about it all, is that you’re fucking enjoying it.

the thrill of being watched by your fellow racers makes you act up, has you crying and moaning a little louder than usual — putting on a show for your ex as you fall back into your toxic routine. those sweet salacious sounds spike higher and higher the closer you get, the more isagi sucks on your clit and scissors his fingers around to press up against sensitive spots along your gummy walls. 

“that’s it pretty girl, give it to me. louder. good girl, good job.” he coos into you oh so condescending, face coated with a crude mix of spit and slick that glistens under the artificial light from the street lamps above. a blistering sense of pride lodges itself in yoichi’s chest when you scream his name, tugging on the roots of his hair once more. “you can do better than that, louder.” 

“ohmygod—! yoichi!” you yelp sheepishly, throwing an arm over your heated face. though it’s not in shame, you can hardly bring yourself to feel embarrassed about gushing on your ex’s face in front of your fellow racers and racing crew. the pleasure he gives you has you too far gone, like a smoke screen over your hazy mind. “g-god i’m… y-yoichi i’m close!”

“yeah?” he laughs breathily, flicking his tongue over your budding clit, pulling the lollipop from the confines of his greedy mouth to slap it against your quivering pussy as well. “you gonna cum?” it’s far too soon, far too much for you to be reaching another orgasm. but there’s been a steady pressure bubbling up just below your navel, tightening and tightening until it threatens to snap. 

you shake your head pathetically, the metal of your car creaking below your hips as you try to run from isagi’s fingers wildly pumping in and out of you. “c-can’t!” 

“can’t? you don’t wanna, hm.” he sucks his teeth, the sound layering softly over the lewd slushy noises echoing from between your thighs. “too bad. i don’t care. cum for me, precious.”

its like your body has a mind of its own, wilfully ignoring the pain of overstimulation as you cum for isagi once more. milky white runs down your ex’s arms in a boiling hot stream, squirting from your abused and used sex. white spots blur the edges of your vision and you shake violently all throughout your second high, the stacks of ecstasy isagi had been building up within you coming crumbling down and leaving you suffocating in your own dust-cloud of lust. 

the rest of your arousal burns a trail down your pudgy thighs like fuel that’s been set on fire, and you can’t even tell what’s up or down anymore. “c-cumming! ‘m…fuck, yoichi.” you scream, chest heaving, head rolling to the side— pressed against your car’s cool surface. “please, i can’t.” 

“already? you were talking so big before your race now look at you. s’all too much… poor baby.” isagi works you through your orgasm, controlling your every twitch and every aftershock until you damn near pass out. 

you’re almost too far gone to register the sound of rustling clothes and the feeling of your rival (and ex) pressing himself over you. but then he’s patting your cheek lovingly, drinking in your sweet and tired expression with big blue eyes full of adoration before slipping his lollipop into your drooling mouth to pacify you. 

“‘ichi…” you bleat, exhausted. 

“yeah, yeah. i know, precious. but i think we can manage one more, yeah?” he asks you softly, a little more tender than before as he kisses your forehead, licking up a bead of sweat that runs down it. no matter how many times you break up, he’ll always be good to you. always check in with you. make you cum as many times as you can manage while still making you see stars. “need to show all those fuckin’ losers who you belong to. need to make you mine again.” 

weakly lifting your head, you notice the slight audience of racers you’ve gathered while letting isagi fuck you publicly. all the men you’ve beaten in races over time, staring at the way your man ravages you like the sight is a cool glass of water. it would be a lie to say that the feeling of being watched didn’t send another spark of lust shooting down your spine. 

“one more?” you question him and pout around the lollipop that tastes like you, big bambi eyes blinking up at your ex boyfriend. 

“one more.” yoichi confirms, pressing his forehead to yours in order to coax a kiss out of you. “don’t worry, you can take it.” there’s reassurance hidden in his lustful tone as he lines his drippy cock up with your ruined entrance (having pulled it out earlier). he pulses to life against you, the blood rushing through his shaft teeming with desire for you. isagi lets you sit up on your elbows so that you can watch him bully his cock past your fluttering entrance. 

isagi’s eyes gloss over with debauchery while you swallow him down, brows creasing in the centre of his forehead when he bottoms out inside of you — both of your mouths hanging open in hot moans. only adding to the humid air. blindly, he fumbled for your pretty throat, squeezing it gently with each clench of your slippery walls around his aching shaft. 

“you won’t break, baby.” he tells you, drawing his hips back from the snugness of your cunt to set a slow roll to his thrusts. the feeling makes you cry out, hoarse and needy before being soothed by isagi’s leaking tip pushing along every pleasure spot he knows by heart inside of you. “try a little harder for me.” 

his words leave you breathless and dumbfounded, every logical thought and smart-ass retort having escaped you while isagi’s milky, bulbous tip churns up your insides. your sexes slot together perfectly, his girthy dick wrapped in gorgeous blue and green veins keeps you nice and full and reaches the spots you couldn’t dare to reach on your own. isagi hands over you, supporting his weight on one hand, with his lips a breath’s width away from your own. 

the both of you are love drunk on the sex-crazed hormones buzzing in the hot air between you — particles of lust smashing together the more your bodies start to sync up and move together. yoichi devours you, takes parts of your body and claims them with his teeth and tongue and hand gently squeezing around your throat. he fucks you with vigour, so hard that your car shakes beneath your ministrations and you nearly lose the candy in your mouth once more. 

you return the favour, clawing up and down isagi’s back while his dark hair tickles your forehead, cascades down to your neck as he kisses you wetly and laps over the salt on your skin. everything about you never fails to pull him back into your toxic cycle. where he loves you, fucks you and breaks you. a satisfied groan takes root in his chest like a sturdy tree at the taste of you, his hips still pumping into you at a rapid pace, painting you with thick layers of opaque white that cling to your swollen pussy lips and clit. 

“you’re mine, f-forever. not gonna let… mhm.. anyone else touch you.” he slurs menacingly into the junction between your neck and shoulder, finally letting go of your throat so he can push your knees into your chest — forcing his heavy cock into your cunt as deep as it can go. “never gonna let you go again, precious. never gonna let you go without my cock this king again. you’re fuckin’ mine.”

“all fuckin’ yours,” you drawl back with a delirious smile, dizzy from the new angle. your pleasure mounts once more but with the addition of a spark of pain from the overstimulation. yoichi knows your limits, he knows how much his precious girl can take but delivers it in the best of ways — sinfully bucking down into you so hard that his heavy breeders balls smack rhythmically against the curve of your ass. he succumbs to the tight grip your iron hot core has on him, begging him to stay and to never leave you ever again. 

you have one another in a choke hold, falling into a synced up and salacious bump and grind against the hood of your car. every time isagi ruts into you, you clench down, gushing on his dick and covering him (and your car) in an early release. 

“that’s right baby,” isagi seethes through gritted teeth, blinded by white and the stars from up above as he gets closer and closer to his high. he can no longer stave it off for the benefit of overstimulating you, strung along by each twinge of pain he feels from your nails forming crescent moons in his shoulders and drawing blood. “say it like you mean it. scream my fuckin’ name for all these people, yeah? you want me. the only man who’ll ever make you feel this good.” 

you will yourself to speak but barely have the chance to with the way isagi fucks you sensless.  you choke on air, following your biological instinct to rut up into him, whilst you’re reminded all the reasons why your rival racerwill always be the only man for you. he fucks you like he’s never loved you, like a stranger he may hate but he moans and mewls against you like you’re the only person he’s ever loved. 

isagi doesn’t care about the racing, or the money or the people watching him ruin your sluice sex over and over again. 

he only cares about you.  

“c’mon baby,” he goads, licking up your cheeky nastily. “you can do it, tell me how much you want me. how much you love me, precious.” each syllable that he purrs out shoots straight to the winding, orgasmic knots in your belly. making them tighten painfully. “god, you’re fuckin’ milking me.” 

so you wrap both arms around isagi’s neck, yank at his hair, rip through the skin on his back with your nails (because you know how much he likes it when you hurt him) and say. “i need you, ‘ichi. y-you’re the only one i’ve ever wanted!” 

and that’s all it takes, to give isagi that last burst of energy to make the both of you really feel it. after one, two, three more thrusts — you’re both sent flying over the edge in unison. “m-‘my precious baby, fuuck, all mine. gonna cum…you better cum for me.”thick waves of viscous white cum floods your puffy folds, whilst yoichi bites down hard on your neck to state his high pitched whines, fucking his seed deeper into you until he calms down. 

you’re in no better condition, squirting so hard that you almost lose your grip on reality. a world of colours flash behind your darling eyes when you cum for the third and final time that night, static ringing in your ears alongside the sweet symphony of your ex boyfriend’s moans and the groaning metal from your car. 

you’re sure the paint has been completely tainted with cum by now.

by the time you finally come to and stop spasming around isagi’s softening cock, he’s peeling your sweaty skin away from your car to coddle you in his chest — shielding you from the hungry eyes of your competitors. “keep your eyes to your fuckin’ selves.” he snarls with teeth bared, despite how gently he holds you. 

“easy there tiger,” you sigh, snuggling against him as exhaustion settles into your fucked out bones. “i think they know who i belong to now.” grabbing at his neck, you pull isagi  down for a sloppy kiss — mewling happily at the taste of sweat, sex and sugar on his tongue before passing him the lollipop once more. “guess the money wasn’t the only thing i won tonight.” 

“you’re kinda sick, you know that?” he laughs in response, but before he can kiss you again — the racing crowd starts to scramble at the sound of police sirens.

still curled into your (ex? oh what the hell) boyfriend, you crack a tired smile. “looks like we gotta split, boy.” 

“you comin’ back with me this time, precious?” a smooch is pressed into your hairline while isagi gathers you into his arms fast — bundling you into the passenger's seat since you’re clearly in no state to play get away driver. he doesn’t bother with your clothes. 

“you know that you can’t get rid of me, baby.” you got the keys into the ignition in time for isagi to slip into the driver’s side — steering you away from the scene of the crime. “i’m yours forever, remember?” 

he only chuckles at that, wild blue eyes reflecting the blue and red cop car lights as he looks to you while speeding away.

“god you drive me crazy, i love you. you fuckin’ maniac.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’ #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #isagi x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi smut #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #isagi yoichi x you #yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi smut #isagi x you #bllk x you #bllk imagines #blue lock x you #bllk thirst #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[bhaalble]

Back on my Wyll script doctor because I was talking about it with a friend. Specifically imagining a version of Wyll's big Character Choice that felt like it had some actual teeth.

Imagine a world where instead of a cartoon evil hot lady Mizora and Wyll's relationship actually had some complexity to it and like. some genuine push and pull which gives him temptation to stay. I just keep thinking about this 17 year old who his whole life wanted more than anything to be a hero, who got his chance to do something heroic and selfless and save the city from certain doom, and his reward is getting kicked out because he did it the "wrong way".

Imagine if instead of forcing his silence, Mizora instead comforted him. How unbelievably cruel of your father! Well...since you've nowhere else to go, why not stick with me? We make a pretty good team, as it turns out, and I can get you a whole list of monsters who need killing. Plenty of devils and demons loose in your world targetting all sorts of innocents. Our interests can keep aligning, and you get a place to sleep when you need it.

Wyll makes his peace with it, because he has nothing and no one. And Mizora's not GOOD maybe, not by Ulder Ravengard's definition. But she's fun. She delights in his growth. And she does certainly keep direct him at greater evils, devils who really do need killing. And if she spies on his every waking moment, well, she worries. If she sends him after the occasional innocent, well, she had people who she has to answer to as well. She's a devil, how much can he fault her for her nature? She's always seemed like she knew where the line was...

Karlach (and the player) express their doubts, of course, but for act one at least he's defensive. Yes, she punished him and he hates it and its miserable but....he was in breach of contract! She's NEVER gone outside its bounds, she's always stuck very closely to their agreement. Wyll, who wants so badly to trust others and believe everyone has the chance for good, can't find it in him to believe the worst even of a devil.

And Mizora is FOND of Wyll, loves him even in her way. As a cherished pet, as a trusted tool, as a best-laid plan. Never enough to choose his own well-being over her own agenda, never enough to see him as his own person. He's her little project, the long shot noble brat she gambled on when Tiamat decided to get too big for her britches. And it paid off! Wyll always pays off, currying her all the favor from Zariel she so desperately craves. And who are you, or anyone, to come between them? She's treated him well. As she's quick to remind him, she wanted him when no one else did, aided him while the rest of his city slept snug in their beds. And if Ulder Ravengard didn't want a son with a whiff of infernal, then do you REALLY think he'd want you with lovely horns and Avernus in your blood?

You discover his father's been taken. Beyond igniting a lot of old feelings, it brings up a question of succession. Of course, Florrick isnt giving up on him, but if not...there aren't currently any likely candidates to take over the Flaming Fists. Not trustworthy ones. Florrick will take the position, but everyone knows in the back of his mind Ulder never really stopped planning for it to be Wyll. With the city in chaos and a cult army on the rise, they may need an answer sooner rather than later. Wyll feels the call of the Gate, but knows just as well that Mizora wouldn't want him to return in such an official capacity.

For the first time ever the leash starts to chafe in a way he can't keep pushing through.

Act 2 rolls around. Mizora sends up the Warlock signal. After potentially some encouragement from the player, Wyll (NOT THE PLAYER. I DONT KNOW WHY ITS THE PLAYER IN THE GAME ITS WEIRD) hesitantly proposes that maybe, if he does this....they can do a renegotiation of his contract. Not break it, he assures her quickly! Just....reopen the terms, take a looks at the agreement. Maybe discuss an exit ramp? After all....I mean, neither of us truly thought I'd be doing this forever, did we?

Based on Mizora's reaction. Yeah she did.

But fine. She agrees. And Wyll's not mad that it turns out you're rescuing her, not a nameless "operative" for Zariel. He would've done that on his own had she asked. Its the fact that she apparently didn't feel like being honest, that she let him fret and worry about potentially handing Zariel back some runaway for basically no reason. Its the fact that she came here to check in on the cult that abducted his FATHER just to see if Zariel could make any use of them. And its the fact that she seems surprised and annoyed that ANY of this bothers him.

All this builds, of course, to the final confrontation. The basic elements are the same. Mizora outside the coronation (this time needling at Wyll, "I'll be at camp if you're not too high and mighty to consort with the likes of me anymore"), Ulder tadpoled and fighting it. Mizora makes her offer. I can end the contract now, and you're free to go running after daddy (who won't want you btw! not like I do!). You'll lose all your powers, all my aid, all those juicy quests to chase down the greatest monsters in the hells. Take on your father's job and settle in for a life of misery and compromise and only doing as much good as the nobles will let you. Or: pledge yourself to me, eternally. I'll give you a boatload of new powers and eternal life to boot, so long as you serve as my sword and shield.

From there I think three endings branch out, and with it three classes for Wyll. If he stays with Mizora, accepts a relationship where he will never be an equal or a free agent in exchange for the affirmation he wants so badly from his father, he remains a Warlock, with some juiced stats and extra spell slots, along with shiny new gear. If he pledges to follow in his father's footsteps, he instead becomes an Oath of Devotion paladin, pledging himself in service to Tyr, if with a sense of doomed finality. The Blade of Frontiers is officially retired, and along with it any identity he has outside of being his father's son. Or the third path, break the contract without taking his father's role. He will look for his father, yes, but whether or not you find him he's going back to his roots, travelling around to do some good in the world (as the Blade of Frontiers) or kicking ass in the Hells with Karlach (as the Blade of Avernus). In this timeline he becomes a fighter, with a default preference for Eldritch Knight.

What's important: if he breaks his contract then Mizora is NOT hanging around camp. She will leave in a fury, accidentally bound by her own word to withdraw her influence completely if he breaks his contract. She may still approach the player some night to sleep with the player, framed for high approval/romanced players and her trying to take something back from Wyll. But Wyll will have to learn how to define himself without her breathing down his neck, without keeping her happy dominating his every thought. Its nervewracking, and even lonesome at times...but its freedom. And, perhaps, that's worth a little bit of lonesomeness.

#long post #again i want to be clear because i think wyll fans are a little understandably defensive of him #this is not about wanting wyll to be a bad person #its about wanting him to have an arc that parallels the rest of the companions #and be more firmly centered on HIS feelings and choices #ive done my best to preserve wylls canon temperament here #just give the circumstances more teeeth #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #wyll ravengard #mizora #ulder ravengard

[bdsmrist]

im high rn so u can ignore me but going insane over the fact that the harry that is nice to kids and likes them is *basically* the canon harry.

like harry wants to be nice to cuno despite how annoying he is, and makes a massive graffiti that says I LOVE YOU CUNO so he grows up knowing that someone out there (harry) loves him. not to mention if kim eats shit n dies, cuno comes w u and u advocate for him to become a junior officer.

also, his scene with annette is so precious; how he can tell that shes extra polite because shes guarded, and when he sees her nails, he doesnt scold her but rather sympathizes with her situation. AND stands up to her mom and calls her out for being a shitty parent (which most ppl irl never do).

and when he meets the anodic teens/young adults, hes so fucking desperate to be perceived as cool while simultaneously reassuring these kids that they are cool, and that their dreams and aspirations are valid and special. like these kids are *homeless*, but he uplifts them to the point where as a player u can easily forget the fact, because he doesnt treat them as such. he treats them like complex people, like fellow artists.

like can u imagine just how kind this man mustve been to his student as a coach. how many shy kids he befriended and got out of their shell. how many kids came out to him as queer (n he was cool w it). and how many kids he can-opened into telling him of the troubles back at home, and how he talked to them through the pain. like do u think he became a cop because a part of him hopped he could help these kids even more if he did?

i think its intended to understand harry as a complex man who holds immense amounts of resentment to the world around him, and has the potential to be one of the most detestable people ever. as a cop, and as an addict, hes seen both the worse of humanity, and seen the worse of himself. so hes meant to have one or two regrettable interactions w those around him.

BUT! he knows kids are never the problem. he understands more than anything that kids are just kids, they need to be protected, and be treated with patience, kindness, and respect. like yeah, u can punch cuno, but the game doesnt rly want u to. if u do, the skills, HARRY’s skills, tell u ur an asshole, and resent u for it.

so in short empath/gentle harry du bois is the best harry du bois. im not sorry abt it.

#normalize being kind to kids and young ppl #i think its based that harry is bringing back being nice to kids #to the point where he looks kim look bad in comparison #not that kim is a bad person i love him but like im just saying harry defo sets a good example #and when he does kim is like ‘damn…. yeah this guys alright’ #hdb #disco elysium

[theelfsongbard]

Counterweight

Pairing: spawn!Astarion x AFAB!reader

Summary: after the epilogue, you and Astarion share a summer’s afternoon together in the meadow. For @oharahive’s breeding kink challenge!

Warnings: epilogue spoilers, breeding kink, mentions of potential future pregnancy

Word Count: 2273

Image source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/760123243354175763/

These past 6 months have been the counterweight to 200 years of misery. Thank you.

He had said those words to you weeks ago, and from then, he had slowly been opening up more and more to you. More frank, more transparent with his feelings than ever before. Today, he is quiet again but you know his mind is anything but, still coming to terms with his grand adventure and the turn of fate that it has brought with it. All at once, he speaks up.

“You bring me the best happiness. You show me the way, where I cannot see and you give me love where I don’t always deserve it. I don’t know how you do it, but I will always be grateful for you.”

The summer breeze blows over the meadow, sifting over the long grass like a wave of verdant green. How lovely it is, to be here, to be loved. Astarion’s thoughts lazily drift as he rests his head in your lap, his eyes shut and sheltered from the sunlight by the wide canopy of an old oak. Slowly he breathes in, bringing cool air into lungs that no longer work. Things have changed drastically in the past 6 months, and now, despite his condition, he found himself flourishing and a free man.

Above him, your gentle humming stops though your hand in his hair continues to massage his scalp with just the right amount of pressure. “And I would give up anything to see you happy for all eternity without hesitation. Has last night’s party been on your mind, love? You’ve been introspective lately.”

“How can I help myself, darling? I can’t help but think about how things could’ve turned out so differently, and yet every iteration I think about, I cannot imagine myself being happier than I am now. You led me here and I… hate to think what life would be like without you being my guiding light. I’d be bitter, resentful, enslaved still by my own will or by Cazador. And I know that I was not always easy to love, but you stayed anyways when it would have been so easy to walk away.”

“You are worthy of love. I have chosen to love you because waking up to your smile every day and seeing you grow into who you are brings me joy. You are my home and my guide. The obstacles we faced together only strengthened our bond.”

Astarion cracks one vermillion eye open, a knowing smirk on his lips, “You like my smile? Why don’t you tell me more?” His voice deepens playfully as he drags you down to press some feather-light kisses on your mouth. This is his way of processing his feelings on complicated topics, as if he is afraid that wallowing in his thoughts any longer will eat him alive even though he has become less self-conscious about openly sharing his thoughts now.

You gasp in feigned scandalousness, ���If I feed your ego too much, you might be too full of yourself for tonight’s dinner! I suppose you’ll just have to settle with knowing that you’re just lovely.” The way you giggle into his mouth sets something alight in him and he flips himself over, pinning you down into the grass below him, earning him a squeal of delighted surprise. This time, it’s your turn to lean up and capture his lips with her own, pulling a low rumbling chuckle from deep in his throat that vibrates through his chest and into hers where he presses against you. “Cheeky little thing aren't you?” the sound of his voice combined with the feeling of his arms caging you in makes your heart beat wildly in its ribcage. Nobody plays the game of seduction better than Astarion and the past 6 months together have only given him time to learn exactly what makes you tick.

“If you're worried about me being too full for dinner, I suppose I can always have dinner a little earlier, if you'll permit it. There's always room for dessert afterwards.” his lips graze tantalisingly over the exposed skin of your neck, his nose nuzzling the shell of your ear with care.

The ring of your laugh chimes like a bell on the wind, “Oh, just stop playing coy and come down for a bite then!”

You don’t need to ask twice before you feel his fangs probing for the blood beneath your skin before finally piercing into your neck, you grit your teeth and cling to his arms as he bears down. The feeling of pain never gets any better no matter how many times he feeds from you, but you have gotten used to the icy pricks and the ensuing numbness as he draws the blood from your body into his. It's his chest that warms first, followed by the healthy flush of life that fills his cheeks and… more intimate regions making itself known by the hardening desire pressed into your stomach.

Drunk on the fresh bouquet of your blood, Astarion laps his tongue against the puncture wounds at your neck, capturing the remnants of his dinner as it runs from the site. An appreciative moan pours from his throat, and when he pulls away at last, you can see that his eyes burn with fire and need. Feeding Astarion doesn’t always lead to sex, but the intimacy of the act makes it a very appealing activity for you both and today is one of those days.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about our future as well, what adventures it might hold for us both,” he kisses up your neck, tickling you and leaving you gasping for air as he teases. The only coherent word you can manage to utter is a shaky “yes?”.

“And I had the most interesting chat with Gale at the party.”

You frowned, wondering where on earth he was going with this. There was once a time when he and Gale weren’t on the best of terms with one another, not in the least because he was also competing for your affection when it was clearly already given to Astarion. Although time had mellowed out Astarion’s moodiness and dislike of the wizard, you couldn't help but think that perhaps it was jealousy that had stoked the fire of his appetite today.

“Oh? And what about him?” you squirmed about as his lips found your ear.

“It's nothing about him, but it is about us. You see, he was telling me about a guest lecturer he had at his school, a dhampir.”

Oh. Oh. So that was what was on his mind.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” The implication hung there, tantalising. The idea of children wasn’t a topic that you had broached with Astarion. In all honesty, you had both had your hands full with other things; adventuring, searching for a cure to vampirism, working to rebuild the Underdark for the many spawn that had been released from Cazador’s manse. But now that he had mentioned it, your mind couldn't help but be filled with images of Astarion lovingly gazing down at a small fragile bundle close to his chest, swathed in cloth. Astarion smiling as he held out a finger clutched by tiny hands. Astarion cooing and stroking its cheek as it drifted into a trance, protected from the cruelty of the world by his love. “Astarion.” A familiar tingle of heat fills you and concentrates itself at your core as the thoughts suffocate the forefront of your mind until nothing else surfaces.

“Think of them reaching for us, seeking the comfort of our loving embrace, filling our home with joy in the mornings.” he breathes in wantonly, inhaling your intoxicating scent. You are fertile, and the tang of your blood on his tongue and the scent of it lets him know that your body is ready at its peak to receive a child if you should choose to do so. “I’m ready for a child, if you are, my love.” he breathes it like a promise against your mouth, forehead pressed to yours waiting for your answer.

“Yes. I am ready.” you respond in kind, kissing him earnestly. “Give me your child.”

Astarion’s ministrations grow as much as his enthusiasm. From where he is hovering above you, he growls with a hint of possessiveness and primal joy. The fact that you were willing was a promise of security, of having you by his side in the years to come with the knowledge that you loved him so much that you would choose to create something that would immortalise your expression of love for each other in flesh and bone and flowing blood.

You were his of your own choosing and he was yours. Would always choose you and stand by your side. The thought drives him mad and admist the attention that he lavishes on your lips, a hand snakes down your body, freeing your tucked shirt and undressing you with uncanny dexterity and speed fueled by his need to have you as his partner and his mate. Immediately. To press you down and fill you to the bursting with his essence until his seed overflowed in your womb and blessed you both with child.

His hand is distracted by the curve of your breasts, kneading them gently as he begins to move down your body to lick and suckle on them. The moans pouring from you only serve to heighten his own arousal and fill him with satisfaction as he plays you with all the expertise of a bard with a well-acquainted instrument. When he finally relieves you of your pants, he lovingly dips a finger along your folds, making you buck your hips up, collecting the slick and rubbing it against your clit, revelling in the way you’re already wet with desire for him causing a shiver to run through your body. “Excited, darling?” he dares to tease out with that high giggle of his. The heat in your cheeks only grows as you huff, “you don’t say. Please, don’t stop now.” you're so desperate for his touch, to feel him inside you.

He chuckles, “Only because you’re so desperate -“. He licks a long stripe up through them, but despite pretending otherwise, the hold you have on him is too great and inhumanly quickly, he scrambles back up, his knee hooking up under yours to open you up and pulling himself free from his trousers as he aligns himself with your entrance, coating himself in you before pushing in until he’s fully sheathed in your warm heat. The unexpected stretch rips a stifled yelp of pleasure from you and Astarion can’t help but moan in kind. “Don’t hide, let me hear you.”

Waiting until you’ve adjusted to him, he lifts your knees up to his shoulders, folding you over so that he can bury himself deeper inside. The new position brings you closer to the edge as he thrusts with increasing vigour, losing himself in the need to fill you up completely, imagining his seed taking and the swell of your belly bearing the evidence of your passion for everyone to see. “I want to see you dripping with my seed, fucked full until there’s no room left for anything else.”

“Then do it!” you just about screamed as he reached between you to rub on your clit. “Give it to me,” you sobbed, “until there’s nothing left to give.” the added pressure sent you tumbling over the edge, and your vision blacked out momentarily as your mind tried to catch up with your body, still spasming and twitching around his cock, milking him of all he had as he met his release with a shuddering roar, driving himself even deeper than he had before as he spent himself inside you. He doesn't move to pull out, keeping himself and his spend inside you do as long as possible and the intention of the action makes you clench slightly around his softening cock drawing a hiss from Astarion. “You want to go again, love?”

Catching your breath, from the exertion you couldn't help but drag him down to lay beside you, holding him close as you rest your head on his arm, nuzzling close to his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. It spells safety and tenderness that you know is only reserved for you. “Not right now, Astarion. I'm exhausted, but maybe we do it again another day,” you say with a laugh, “after all, if it doesn’t work this time, we’ll just have to keep on trying.”

“Well,” he says with a lazy kiss, “I’m very on board with your idea.”

“This is nice. This is really nice,” you whisper to him. “I just want to lay here with you forever.”

His hand snakes over to rest on your waist, the reassuring weight grounding you and the gentle press of his lips to your hair making your heart flutter. “Then let’s stay, for a little while longer at least. Close your eyes, darling.” Without even being able to see it, you can hear the smile on Astarion’s lips as he says it. You can’t help but feel a swell of contentment and pride at these moments of softness where so much was said with so few words.

You don't know how long you lay there in the field with Astarion, holding each other as the sun sank below the horizon but the next time you’re pulled from your trance, it’s the stars that watch over you as you anticipate the hopeful possibility of what might come to fruition.

#astarion smut #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #AFAB reader

[murdrdocs]

ares fucks you in the most sloppy way ever. like the man is nasty. first of all, yall are probably coming back from some sports bar or a pub, possibly in an alley or something. best believe he's rawdogging it. that man— no, sorry, that GOD, will stick two fingers down your throat, have you gagging, and then with no warning will shove them up your pussy, spit string still attached. he wont just fuck you til your eyes are rolling back but until your drooling all over your own tits. your both covered in sweat (do gods sweat?). you nails r clawing down his back? good. mark him up. they'll be gone by morning anyway. not that the same can be said for you, with all the bruises and hickeys hes littering your skin with. and im not just talking soots, im talking full on handprints... on your hips, your inner thighs, your neck...

also, he will def slap u in the face and grab your cheeks for eye contact. and if yall r in doggy he will have a fistful of your hair pulling ur head back while he chokes you and slams into you.

-ares anon

thats it 4 tonight, i swear celeste <3

i was gonna go to sleep but …. i don’t even know how to add onto this ???

cw impact play/slapping; choking; major degradation; MDNI 18+

i feel like he makes you wait. ares smokes, just because he can, really. so he’s standing outside of the bar with you, back leaned against the brick while he takes his precious time inhaling the tobacco and letting the smoke out into the air. you stand a little bit away from him on his direction, wearing his jacket because he got tired of hearing you whine and complain about being cold. he’s this close to slipping a few dollars (don’t ask how he got them) into your hand and telling you to go play some arcade game like you’re nothing but a nuisance. but luckily it’s then that he reaches the filter and he has the cigarette stomped under the bottom of his shoe.

and then he’s fucking your mouth with his tongue. he won’t let you get close to the smoke (he doesn’t want his fuck toy to have the horrible smokers cough mortals get), but he’ll let you taste it from him. he’s holding you close by the back of your head, palming your skull which fits perfectly within it, nestled between the callouses.

he pulls away with just enough room to tell you to spread your legs, and as soon as you do as told he shoves his fingers into your mouth, stares you down with an eyebrow quirked in challenge as he flattens his fingers out along the very back of your tongue. when you’re starting to choke around them, useless hands wrapping around his wrist for security, he’ll remove his hand and shove it right up into your cunt, mocking you for not wearing any panties like a “desperate slut”.

then he’ll fuck you nasty. he’s trained you for this. he’s made sure you could handle at least half of his potential.

his hips painfully snapping up into yours. the palms of your hands scraping against the rough and dirty brick of the outside of the bar. the straps of your dress pulled down but you’re still wearing his jacket. and every time it slips off of your shoulders he threatens you, telling you that maybe he should let someone stumble upon you two. or maybe he’ll take you out in the street and deface you there. or maybe he’ll just ignore you. if you let his jacket fall he’ll just pretend you don’t exist and leave you to your weak fingers or even weaker mortal men.

and god does he love to bruise. handprints on your ass cheeks are his favorite. he’s taken to wearing a ring on his pinkie just so he can see where it’s cut into your skin.

at one point he’ll give you a little reprieve, blessing you by turning you around and wrapping your legs around his waist. your hands will find their place under his black tee. his hand will find its place around your neck. and you’ll both leave your mark. only his will be gone by the time you wake up next to him while you’ll be forced to wear a scarf or something for a while.

and in the morning, when you’re whining about hurting and needing a break, ares will snicker in your face. he’ll tell you “okay” and grab his shit and get ready to leave, but then you’re pouting and telling him you didn’t mean it. you’re spreading your legs and throwing the sheet off of your body and letting him use you again. and if you dare look away when he’s fucking you in missionary—something he does for you, mind you, he knows how sappy and sentimental you get and how you ‘need’ to see him—then he’s slapping your cheek and digging his fingers into your skin, pursuing your lips and making you look as dumb as he thinks you are while he forces you to stare up at him.

“eyes on me. right here,” he’ll tell you, maybe going as far as to snap his fingers right above his head to gather your attention. like you’re nothing but an inattentive animal.

#aresworld! #celeste writes pjo #ares pjo x reader #ares pjo x you #ares pjo smut #cw impact play #ares x reader

[gglitch1dd]

Reading about the Midoriya kids always makes my heart so warm 💙 (even if they are making a mess) they *almost* make me want to have kids in the future

And does the sports festival still happen in your universe? If so, do you think Toshinori would win? I take into account that he has much greater control of the OFA than Izuku did at that time

I LOVE writing for them. They're such cute little sprouts. I've always wanted kids in my future so I like channeling my thoughts and dreams into them.

The sports festival does indeed happen!!!

Interesting fact about YN's quirk if she ever did have her quirk (sometimes in my head she does), her quirk is binding or upgrading quirk. So she can make sure that whoever she chooses to use her quirk on, their body suits their quirk and his compatible and optimised to its fullest potential.

Now it was a smart decision that the commission had her working for them hoping that a hero would fall in love with her and they were very lucky it was Izuku. Because of her quirk, unknowingly to the both of them initially, One for All became bounded to Izuku's genes and isn't necessarily passed down by DNA by choice.

So when Toshinori is born is assumed to be quirkless, he isn't. He just didn't try and ever use it until his dad "gave it" to him. That's why Toshinori is so good at using One for All. He was born with it and its infused with his DNA with no repercussions from the previous users.

Izuku is a much better teacher than All Might was to him, so Toshinori's been training and getting stronger and using his quirk since like the age of ten. He's very strong and versatile with it.

Kane just managed the burst of air that Toshinori aimed at him. The blond teenager landed on the ground, his palms sparking as he ran over to Toshinori. Toshinori stood his ground. This was the last game for the Sports Day, and the determining one to figure out who would take home the gold.

Kane snapped his fingers and suddenly an explosion was detinated on Toshinori's shoulder making the green haired boy stumble. Toshinori stumbled to the ground, grasping his shoulder with a hiss but looked up at Kane with a glare. He had forgotten that Kane had touched his shoulder earlier.

One of the scary things about Bakugou Kane was the fact that his quirk, although being identical to his father's had a twist. Any place he had touched with his sweat, he could detonate minutes later like a planted invisible bomb. Times explosions. A scary quirk that was powerful in nature and design.

Kane put a grin on his face, aiming to blast his friend right out of the perimeter to take the win.

Immediately Toshinori dashed to the side with a flash of light and decided to try the one part of his quirk he was still trying to perfect. Without warning, dark green tendrils burst from Toshinori's knuckles and wrapped around his best friend. Kane's eyes widened in surprise, not having been told of this new development of Toshinori's quirk before. Toshinori smirked before throwing Kane out of the ring.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH YAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Present Mic screamed into his microphone as Toshinori was the last one standing. "There he is!! Our winner of this years First Year's Sport Festival. MIDORIYA TOSHINORI!!!"

Your husband shot out of his seat. "YESSS!!!" He cheered, his hands up in the air as tears brimmed in his eyes in pride!! "THAT'S MY BOY!" He shouted making you laugh but you cheered along side him. You saw your baby on the jumbotron, smiling as he waved.

Then you saw his eyes recognise you. "MOM!" He shouted waving his hands. "Dad! I won! Did you see it!!" You could see the child like sparkle in his eyes!

Izuku gripped the railing with a broad smile on his freckled face. "Good job kiddo!!" He shouted down to him. "That's my son!" Izuku boasted as he turned around to brag.

-Glitch1d

#dilf izuku x reader #dilf midoriya #glitch1d questions #Midoriya Family Shenanigans

[mewguca]

I was thinking about how people should talk more about the parallels between hunter and moon

This is a rather self-indulgent piece...I find it very comforting to be able to express my emotions through a media I love like this...that's probably my favorite thing about art. Being able to express something...being able to connect emotionally with the viewer...is really nice

textless versions and a long rambling under the cut

Hunter is often viewed as a very strong and agile slugcat...they are the "hard mode" after all. Hunter probably has a lot of physical prowess. But, with the rot...they become weaker. At its worst, they struggle to do basic movements...until they eventually die. Of course, in my version of events...Hunter's rot is cured, but it still leaves lasting side-effects. Their scars go beyond simple battle wounds...there's a sort of pervasive sickliness throughout their whole body. Treatment helps, of course...but

You know how that is, right...? You have to keep getting treatments. You have to work for your recovery. And you have to work to prevent your body from getting weaker again...Or y'know, that's how it is if you've ever had any reoccurring or chronic health issues. It's...a struggle I feel like doesn't get expressed very often...so I wanted to express it through my version of Hunter.

Even though Moon isn't anywhere near as organic, I feel like she can relate to similar struggles. She used to be like a god...a powerful supercomputer who could do just about anything! But...she couldn't bring herself to do the one thing that'd preserve her own wellbeing. She delays and delays on forcing Pebbles to stop with her administrative powers until it is far too late...

Maybe she thought she could handle it. That everything would be fine if she just waited for Pebbles to understand...or waited for him to stop. If she just kept sending messages, eventually he would listen.

But he didn't. Things didn't get better. And by the time she finally took action against it, it was too late...her forced communications did nothing but make her brother furious with her...because she "ruined everything." She could only accept her imminent collapse...

When she woke up again, she had only a few neurons left to run on. Her umbilical was broken, her overseers were out of her control, and even the roof over her head was incomplete.

She couldn't do most of the things she used to. She could hardly move. She could hardly even think. She could barely remember who or what she used to be...and she didn't have great ability to remember the present, either.

It must have been really painful...but she keeps doing what she can anyways. She reads the pearls you bring her. She tells you about the items you bring. She gives you information as best as she can. She is kind and hospitable. She encourages you. She could be so bitter and depressed...so resentful and cruel...but she isn't. I'm sure she has plenty of bitterness and resentment, plenty of hopelessness and great sadness, plenty of suffering...

But when she sees the little slugcat, she's still kind to it. She is grateful for what she has. She is happy to see you. And she keeps on living.

She's so strong...she is a huge inspiration for me.

So, I think if anyone could relate to Hunter's struggle...Moon is probably the closest. I think people should talk about their relationship more...after all, Hunter is her "little savior." I think they would be wonderfully close. They could support each other in their struggles to keep living, even if their bodies fight against them. I also think their friendship is just cute! Great potential for angst, for fluff, for comfort...idk. everything, really. It would be wonderful for them to reunite when they're both in better shape...as creatives, we can make a versions of events where that happens. It's really wonderful to me...for a work of art to inspire others to create art because of it.

This game means a lot to me...and it means a lot to me that it resonates so much with other people as well. So, thank you...

#rain world #egg art #eggmoon creations #looks to the moon #rw hunter #angst #comfort #rambled eggs #eggmoon's rain world

[dudeitiskarev]

Accidentally In Love | Part One

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x florist female reader

Summary: Penelope has a plan: throw an arrow full of love dust and make you and Hotch fall in love with each other. A series of small…inconveniences keep happening whenever you two end up in the same room, so it takes her more than one try to work her magic on you. Each incident serves its purpose, though, meaning Garcia’s work is only the last push you two need to get a happily ever after—a Penelope centered fun ride with lots of fluff and all the cheesy stuff.

Word count: 2.6k

Content/warnings: nothing really. Just fluff.

Long author’s note: I can’t remember where this idea came from but oh boy, I love it so much. This little story might be my last Hotch x reader piece ever and it feels like an appropriate story to wrap up the end of an era for me. I will always love Aaron Hotchner and I’m so grateful to have found this fandom. It’s not a long fic but I’ll still split it into a few parts because I think it reads best.

To my very loyal readers, I see you always and I love you forever and thank you for everything. I hope everyone who reads it love this story as much as I do and as always, I’d love to know what you think. Enjoy! Mwaaaah <33

Penelope was born with a gift. She could see people’s hearts—like actually; bright red beating flesh inside people’s chest cavities.

Most had a glow of their own that came with a special colored aura. She often felt them as her own, too, and though that might just be the deep empathy her dad also had, she embraced others’ heartbreaks like a treasure from day one.

Her gift came with what could be considered a lethal weapon: an arc and endless arrows. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous since she was the only one who could manipulate it and see it overall—and because the arrows were made out of clouds—but she’d never been very skilled at using it, so accidental love matches happened often. Most happened when she was a kid—when she’d just discovered her gift and would use it at the supermarket or the movie rental with two random people. It was like introducing a Ken doll to a Barbie for the first time ever so it really was just a game.

It became serious business when one of her closest friends in high school got her heart broken by some guy named Trent. It physically hurt Penelope to see her friend’s heart break and do nothing about it, so she went out of her way to find a guy with a pure heart for her dearest friend; they’ve been together ever since.

That love match was the one that made her polish her gift. She’d keep a love-matches tracker journal where she’d write down everything—from potential couples to different scenarios where she could make the magic happen. Her aim was the one thing she hadn’t been able to refine that much just yet. It has improved, but accidental matches kept happening, just not as often. Which was part of the fun, anyway.

The fun turned into dust the moment she got the call about her parents getting in a car accident. Her gift froze along with her heart that night. It took her a while to let it warm up again, even when it was all she wanted; the only thing that’d truly make her feel something other than grief.

It was hard, though. She’d witnessed love slipping away from people every day and every time she knew she could’ve done something about it. She didn’t want to push herself that much—it drained her, so she started again slow, remotely, with online love matches since she spent most of her time behind a screen and under a fake name. That worked, surprisingly— Bitter_Fruit_Punch and Dark.Knight announced their relationship through the chat 3 months after Penelope worked her magic on them.

Matchmaking has been part of her daily life ever since. It brightened up her own heart to see others fall in love so why not make it a full-time job? She was getting paid with smiles and love all around which was a much better reward than money but she couldn’t actually live out of it.

Her actual job wasn’t so bad—being recruited to work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit was one of the best things that have happened to her—it paid her rent, and she could afford colorful outfits and even more colorful glasses that matched every single piece of clothing she owned.

At the beginning of her career, she was hesitant to use her gift on the people she worked with. It was a serious and professional environment, but being surrounded by blood, murders and real-life monsters pushed her to subtly pull some strings the more she got to know her team.

She wanted each one of them to have a significant other, but not everyone’s hearts were easy to work with. Some hearts were too fragile or too stone cold. Some of them loved too much and others simply didn’t know how to show love, even when they experienced it immensely.

Emily had one of those hearts that unexpectedly loved too much once and simply would not let anyone in anymore because the one time she did, she had to die to keep herself safe.

Spencer’s heart was… something else. Which made it hard to find him the one since not many understood how it worked. He had it once, and it slipped away right in front of him.

JJ’s heart was as stunning as her eyes. Friendly despite having some scars from her past—as most hearts did. Her heart craved love and to be held tenderly, so as soon as Penelope felt how JJ’s heart would glow around a cute guy with a Louisiana accent, she threw an arrow at them.

Then there was her boss’ heart. One of the hardest hearts she’s ever come across. One of the biggest ones, too. Aaron Hotchner had a good heart, and when his ex-wife passed away, his heart only had room for his son.

Hotch was one of those cases that needed its own section in Penelope’s journal. She often thought, what if Haley was his one true love? Did it mean he couldn’t have another one? She wanted her boss to be happy, so she gave his heart all the time it needed to heal.

The right time came but she needed to test the waters first, so she put a pretty woman in Hotch’s life. Her name was Beth, but she wasn’t the one—García knew it from the beginning since their hearts weren’t on the same page. It was a good exercise that showed her that Aaron was ready to love again, though.

That’s when the real challenge began.

There was only one person perfect for Aaron Hotchner: you.

Penelope met you thanks to one of her many hobbies—theater. She needed a bunch of floral arrangements for her upcoming play, and your flower shop was a very well-known shop in the city. She walked through the door and the floral scent bathed her along with your welcoming heart.

It was like finding gold. One of the prettiest hearts she had ever seen. Glowy and generous like your smile, and so warm a ray of morning sunshine couldn’t compare. It resembled a mosaic and all she could think about while you showed her around all kinds of flowers was Hotch and how those broken pieces perfectly fitted together.

What Penelope didn’t know at that moment was that you two had met each other before. Or rather, shared a single glance.

You had the same favorite coffee shop—the one close to your flower shop that also happened to be on the way to the BAU. He’d thought you were beautiful; you’d felt the same. But that’s about it. Neither of you dared to make the first move if possible.

Until it had to happen again.

“Thanks.” You smiled at the barista while receiving your latte and turned around, bumping into a broad and very good-smelling silhouette.

You didn’t get the chance to give him a smile since your coffee spilled all over your hand.

It burnt like hell, but you didn’t even make a sound.

“Are you alright?” he was quick to assist you, taking your almost empty cup from your hand at the same time a bunch of hands around you offered you napkins.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You looked up and finally smiled at him. That wasn’t a common face so you remembered him perfectly—made your heart thunder senseless like the very first time you laid eyes on him. “You have no idea how often this happens to me,” You tried to play it cool.

Your cheeks started to grow hot from the inside out. Painfully slow. It completely erased the burning sensation on your hand. You looked down to dry the sleeve of your blouse hoping the heat of your face would disappear.

It didn’t.

“Let me buy you another one.” He moved you out of the way by your arm and guided you to an empty corner. His touch was as gentle as a petal.

“Oh, there’s no need, I promise. I’m okay. There’s still some left.” You peeked at the cup he was still holding. There was barely a sip. “I— I should go.”

“Please, I insist.”

The look of concern made him even more attractive. You couldn’t reject him with words so you simply gave him one last look and walked away in a hurry, leaving Aaron with his mouth half open before he could insist even more.

The barista called his name right after and the guilt while he received his perfect order wouldn’t let him enjoy it. He walked to his car with his coffee in one hand and your empty cup in the other. The least he could do was get you another latte, somehow. Thankfully your name and order were on the cup, and there was only one person who could make that happen with that little information.

“I need your help and I need you not to ask any questions.” He stormed into Garcia’s office and stood next to her, dramatically placing your empty cup on her desk.

She jumped at his sudden presence. “Y-yes sir. What can I do?”

Hotch gave her some more details he picked up from you from the brief interaction that could be useful. The more she typed each one on her computer, the more information about you showed up on the screen. Her naive self thought it all was just a coincidence, but then a news page popped on the screen from a couple of years ago. There was a tiny picture of your pretty face in the bottom right corner that announced the opening of your shop.

“That’s her,” Hotch confirmed.

Penelope looked up at him and caught the glimpse of a smile taking over his lips and a tiny spark inside his chest. She held the urge to squeal right then and there.

Hotch didn’t tell her much detail about how he ended up having your cup, but his heart already lit up at the thought of you. Meaning, it shouldn’t be so hard to make you two fall in love, right?

All she had to do was make something like that happen again and be there to throw that arrow.

The coffee stain on your sleeve looked like a jasmine blossom—if you really stared at it.

There was no point in washing it off since the coffee was almost dry. Plus, wet sleeves around your wrists would only worsen your day. You should’ve known it was going to be like this from the moment the hot water ran out while in the middle of your shower this morning.

But you were at your shop now. Your happy place. A dream come true. Nothing could bother you as long as you were there, so you decided to leave the embarrassed thoughts behind and went to check on the flowers and plants you had outside on display, making sure they were healthy and ready to be chosen.

They’d been sorted by size since the very first day. Tallest at the very back and smallest in front, that way none would be unnoticed.

The voice of a stranger calling your name made you turn away from the ficus trees. You didn’t know the kid or why he was handing you a cup of coffee that had your name written on it.

“I think you got the wrong person.” You hesitated whether to receive it or not. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Well, someone did. This is Silver Spring 2089, right?” He looked at the numeration behind you.

“Yeah?” You took the cup just so you wouldn’t leave him hanging.

“Then it’s for you.” He nodded with an annoyed customer-service smile. “Have a great day!” He hopped back on his bike and added, “I think there’s a note for you,” gesturing at the cup with his brows.

“Oh, okay? Thanks”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, pedaling away.

You stood there for a moment, frozen by confusion. You had no idea what that was about but it was better figuring it out inside rather than out in the sun. You made your way back inside your store and once you were behind the counter, you examined the cup, twirling it in 360 degrees. It only had your name on the outside.

“Hmm.” You bit your lip.

Maybe the note was on the inside? You slid down the cup holder, revealing a note written in all caps across the cup.

HOPE YOU CAN STILL ENJOY A LATTE AT NOON.

Your lips twitched into a smile and the good kind of butterflies spiraled in your stomach.

The kind that you haven’t felt in so long.

García knew her boss too well. He may have sent you the coffee but he was going to need a little push to get him to do more than that.

“So?” García walked into Hotch’s office. “How did it go?”

He lifted his eyes from the paper. He had no idea what she was talking about.

“Flower girl?” She continued. “Her coffee?”

His eyes rushed back to the document. “She received it, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” She took a few steps closer, the click-clack of her heels loud under her. “She didn’t text you a thank you, you’re so incredibly nice?”

It was very unlike you if you didn’t.

“She doesn’t have my number.” He looked at Garcia again. “So I don’t see why she would.”

“You didn’t write it somewhere in her order?”

“No?” He frowned softly, waiting to be reprimanded.

“Sir,” she huffed out a breath, sitting across from him and placing her thick sparkly journal over her lap. “That was your chance.”

“Of what?”

“Of… love.”

He paused for a moment and sighed, raising his brows while saying, “There’s no time.” As if he was trying to convince himself.

“There’s always time for love,” she quickly added.

The truth was that he didn’t want to let someone in yet after Beth. It had already been scary back then to let Beth in after Haley. There was a big difference, though. He let Beth go by choice—which was the right thing to do—and Haley was ripped away from him.

Both things have hurt his son, meaning it wasn’t just his heart that could get exposed to love or abandonment by letting someone new in.

Jack’s heart lived right behind Aaron’s, so he had to be careful.

“Is there anything else you need?” He changed the subject.

Penelope’s face dropped in defeat as she said a quiet no, though it slowly turned into a smile as she added, “I mean yes. Yes, actually, I’m here also to give you—” she riffled through her documents and took out a flyer, handing it to him “—this.”

The flyer promoted her new play, and as always, had her face on it.

“This Friday?” He took a closer look at it.

“Everyone’s invited, per usual,” she said proudly.

Whenever he got the official invitation, he looked forward to it. It reminded him of his high school years and often made him want to give it a try again now that he was older to do something out of the ordinary. But in this case, there really was no time.

“I’ll be there.” He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

“You are very welcome.” She stood up and walked to the door.

“Hey, Garcia?” Hotch got her attention, making her turn around. He remembered when she was embarrassed about the team finding out, and now they were a permanent crowd in each of her plays. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir.” She smiled big big. “Goodbye, sir.”

She left his office with a bright grin and an even brighter plan.

If he didn’t dare to give you his number or any other hint about his persona, she was going to make sure he did.

That very same day she sent you an invitation to her play.

Her plan? Forced proximity.

Classic me, I’m not sure when I’ll post next part but I hope you enjoyed this ♥️

PART TWO

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fluff

[talenlee]

Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#DnD 4e #Dungeons &amp;amp; Dragons #Games

[factual-fantasy]

23-ish Asks! :DD Fun pictures ahead!

--!!FNAF MOVIE SPOILERS!!--

@mbm-artist @pinkbomb08 @tadssstrange

AH! Happy Halloween! Sorry I am late to respond to you trick or treaters. I have been really busy lately with a project. For your patience and for waiting at my door step for several days- I reward you with only the finest delicacies I have to offer,

Be sure to devour it all in 1 sitting ya hear? :}

@jackal-lantern @trotg2367

I have seen the FNAF movie. And I have more negative things to say than positive <XD

The positive things being, MAT PAT YEAAAAHHHH- The first spook with Bonnie following the formula of the first game was THE BEST THING EVER. I'm so glad that Markiplier was fully intended to be a part of the movie. Its a bummer that he couldn't make it but its the thought that counts. <:) (He was busy working on Iron Lung and the schedules just didn't line up. He explains it all in this stream-)

Now for the negatives. Oh boy <XD Out of order- the movie wasn't nearly as scary as I expected. I was kind'a disappointed really. That 1 tense scene with Bonnie disappearing off stage was EXCELLENT but otherwise the scares were kind'a lackluster.. I feel like the scare with Foxy running down the hall needed the added sound of his thumping foot steps getting louder as they approached. Like in the game. That would have been scarier to me and would have been a call back, like Bonnie! Although I do appreciate that it was added at all. I would have been more disappointed if there wasn't a Foxy running down the hall scene <XD

Of course I wasn't a fan of the carbon copy of Vanessa being Williams daughter for obvious lore reasons. I didn't like how much the animatronics moved and how blatantly alive they were. It took away so much of the horror for me. Also how quickly Mike just.. accepted that they were ghosts?? It took like 3 minutes to convince him. I wished they had stuck with the scares and the atmosphere of the first game. It would have been a lot scarier to me that way. Also not even mentioning the missed scare of someone opening one of their stomachs and finding a dead child all disfigured and crammed inside..

Also the animatronics looked FANTASTIC, although.. considering that Freddy's has been shut down for a while. Wouldn't they be a bit more worn? Like, they're in mint condition. While the building around them is in shambles and dirty. You could say Vanessa has been keeping up the maintenance, but I still think they'd show some age.. also missed opportunity to make them scarier by making them look like the withers! Bonnie's face falling off to show a disfigured childs face behind?? Dude the missed potential!

I also don't like the inclusion if Springtrap for lore reasons. That happens later! Also WHY is the Spring Bonnie suit all worn and messed up? That happens AFTER he gets spring locked! People would still know its William/Springtrap without making the suit already worn and old- GAAHHH! I could ramble on and on about all the stupid little nit picks I have about this movie. I have been a fan for a long time and had high expectations. But that doesn't mean I should rip this movie to shreds.

I gotta stop looking at all the down sides and really focus on the things I loved. The animatronics looked amazing, they were perfect. Especially Foxy. The inclusion/intended inclusion of Mat Pat, Markiplier and Cory(?) was wonderful. And a total surprise to me! The movie wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. It definitely wasn't as bad as it could have been. And for that I am grateful.

Overall I give ittt.... mmmm, a 5-6 out of 10..? <:D

Over the span of 10 years? Yeah.. likely 100s.. :(

I kind'a imagined the mirrors as like.. pressing the walls of two timelines/AUs together and poking a hole through them. There isn't really a space in between, its like a doorway. Now that's not to say that those void spaces don't exist- I'm just saying that how I imagined Jevil mirrors to work.

Could poking those metaphorical holes in the walls of an AU be more.. literal? Could Jevil going in and out of an AU multiple times eventually harm it in someway? Who knows.. Jevil would rather not dwell on it <XD

You're right on the money pal. All of Jevils food is given to Seam. He wont eat unless Seam has eaten. He wont sleep unless Seam is already asleep. He cant sleep when he tries but still All their new clothes and blankets go right to Seam. If they're camping out in the woods? Jevil will stay awake the whole night to keep the fire going.

Its really hard for Seam to see Jevil like this. Seam tries really hard to cover up when he's uncomfortable or unwell. He tries to keep up an image and tries to reassure Jevil that he's alright. But sometimes he just cant. Sometimes he's so hungry he's doubled over in pain with tears welling in his eye. Sometimes he's aching so much that he cant move. Sometimes he's so cold he loses feeling in his hands and feet..

He cant hide it then. And he cant convince Jevil that he needs to eat too. That he needs sleep too. Its really hard for the both of them..

Thaaaat would not work for my Seam <XD

My Seam is more of an organic creature rather than a stuffed doll. Cutting off his hands would just cause him to bleed. A lot. And without a powerful Darkener that can heal, I don't know if they could be reattached-

Peach/Mario and Daisy/Luigi are like, the ONLY exceptions I can think of. Both of those pairings are like, 99% canon/heavily suggested. If not just straight up canon.

Also unlike other ships/canon stuff, I really like those two pairings. I think they're neat :}

Its hard to say who had the worse punishment. I mean, suffering is suffering. And if you asked Seam, he'd say Jevil suffered more. And if you asked Jevil he'd say Seam suffered more. I guess its a matter of what you think is worse.

Jevil was locked away for years, by his own best friend. That magical aura that used to be his only comfort was now oppressing him. He was locked away with no contact with anyone for years. Except maybe occasionally King would venture down there and beat him up. Just to make Seam upset or becuase he just felt like it.

He was alone for years. It was dark, cold, and maddening. Always on the edge of starving and living in fear everyday that King would come back and beat him up again. His best friend had betrayed him.. yet he was still scared for Seam. He was all alone up there. Who knows how the King is treating him.. it was horrible..

Then you have Seam. Forced between a rock and a hard place. He betrayed his best friend and has lived with the crushing guilt ever since. He tried to visit Jevil to apologize, to explain himself- but he was caught.

His eye was gouged out and his mouth stitched shut. His neck and wrists were bound by shackles. He did his very best to bend to the Kings will. In hopes that King would not hurt him. But it was never enough. Seam suffered constant abuse by the King for years. The shackles drained his energy but he was still required to preform for the King. Its like King was toying with him, trying to see how far he would bend before breaking.

It took Jevil disappearing from his cell to break him. Seam thought that Jevil had died. His best friend. Who he had wronged and locked away, just died. All alone in a cell that he made.

As if it couldn't get worse. King accused him of letting Jevil go. And he was going to be punished for it. With Jevil dead, and a no doubt horrible punishment awaiting him.. there was nothing left to live for.. so he tried to.. well. You know..

Thankfully Jevil showed up just in time and got them both out of there! Ahahahahh aaaa <:DDDD Yeahh,,,,

Yes! Exactly! :D I go off the idea that Undertale and Deltarune are the "original" timelines. And everyone from my AU is from some kind of offshoot of those two timelines.

The chains don't make him sick to his stomach thankfully. But they do make him weaker in every way. His immune system is weakened, so he's more vulnerable to catching viruses.

His energy is also completely sapped. He feels sore and hungry all the time. He likely deals with back and shoulder pain due to the neck shackle and having to hold up his arms all the time.. :(

As much as Asgore might want to give that wretched King a piece of his mind.. Asgore isn't a fool. If he ever encountered the King, his immediate goal would be to get himself, and the rest of the group as far away from him as possible.

He didn't mistake him for another Spade King no,, but Seam and Jevil immediately noticed his royal vibe/appearance and was rather unsettled.. :{

@neojet280

Awww, the gang take big sleepies :}}

Grillby does eventually come around and apologize for beatin up Jevil. Jevil is quick to forgive him and states there's no hard feelings. :}

Thankfully Jevil does end up fully healing with minimal to no scarring. The burns looked pretty bad but Jevil was only held for a few seconds. Plus Darkeners probably heal differently so I'd like to say he ended up just fine :} 👍

I wasn't able to find the sketches I made of this--

But what I had in mind was DA was like this giant flat sun/moon with 2 white gloved, disembodied hands. He looks like this basically-

He is attached to the ceiling/walls and probably roams around playing music and monitoring everything. His personality is somewhat the same but he's more mellow and relaxed. He runs the arcade naturally.

I pictured DJMM looking like my Glamrock DJ but clown themed maybe? His proportions could be different and maybe his face is changed up a bit.. but overall its just DJ as a clown and he runs the daycare. His personality is mostly the same but he's more energetic.

@tallchest13-blog

XD I'm thinking that King will get what's coming to him eventually..

(Also thank you so much! :}})

The sad part about that is Seam isn't even that old. He's maybe in his 40-50s I imagined. He just looks so much older because all the stress and abuse has really weighed him down/aged him.. :'(((

Almost,, but no. Typically a generational gap is measured by 15-20 years. I imagined that the age gap between Seam and Jevil to be around 10-15 years or so..? So not quite intergenerational. :/

@soft-kachan

That miiiiiight make his grief worse..? I'm no expert on grief thankfully- but I imagine having a plushie that looks like your dead child miiiight stunt the healing process..?

What Grillby needs is to heal and move on from those deaths. So maybe not a plush of his child, but just a plush of something in general? Something that he can hold/hug when he needs too. If not that maybe Seam could make use of that fire proof fabric and make him some new clothes? 👀

@petra-creat0r

AAAAAA THANK YOUU SO MUCH!!!! 💗💗😭🍤💗

A while ago I actually drew what I imagine true swap Vanessa to look like! :}

Short-ish blonde hair that's tied up in a ponytail, purple Bonnie sweater and maybe bowling ally friendly yellow sneakers? Bandages on the face and baggy socks, all what you'd expect.

Now for Gregory I imagined his hair is cut neat and short. Maybe he's totally clean shaven as well. He's unusually neat and spiffy.. Almost like he's trying to keep up a clean and organized image..? 👀

His backstory will probably be similar/the same as Vanessa's. And his costume will probably be based off Fredbear instead of Spring Bonnie. Not sure what his other name would be though.. 🤔

@beryl-shade

This post I made talks all about Grillby's color changes and what they mean. So I'll take a snip bit of it! :}

If its hard to read the TLDR is that he's sad and burning very hot. :( Though the Deltarune AU Grillby is less "I'm sad :( I burn hotter now" and more "I am overcome with grief and have completely lost control of my body" :x

#my response #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #fnaf security breach #undertale #deltarune #seam and jevil #tw abuse #tw descriptions of gore #tw descriptions of abuse #tw gore #do not tag seam and jevil as ship #tw mentions of suicide #These asks were really fun to answer #I love all the questions about my deltarune au it makes my heart happy :}}}

[pathfuckery]

Pathfinder 2e New Player Resource Masterpost

Hey there! Looking to get into PF2e? You’re making a great decision, but you may not know where to start! I’ve put together a handy list of resources you can consult while getting into the game. As always, if you ever have questions about PF2e, please don’t hesitate to reach out! I love this system, and I love helping new players!

Official Resources

The Archives of Nethys are the official host for the PFSRD. You can find ALL of the rules of the game for free there. Literally everything that is not Golarian specific is on the Archives, and all of it is laid out incredibly well. It may not look quite as flashy as beyond, but its search functions and layout are superior. 

If you buy one product from Paizo as you get started, I HAVE to recommend to BEGINNER BOX. This thing is fantastic. It simplifies the rules, gives you GORGEOUS character sheets that highlight all of your abilities, and have a fun little adventure that dovetails nicely into either their Troubles in Otari or Abomination Vaults modules. (As someone who has run both of those now, they’re both fantastic as well and I highly recommend them.) 

Beyond the Beginner Box, I would also suggest picking up a Core Rulebook. It is true that all of the rules information is already laid out in the Archives, but having a CRB on handd is nice for the art, plus the book is laid out incredibly well. If you can’t afford a CRB at this time, though, you’ll still be good! You might also watch for Humble Bundles, as they often have great Pathfinder packs on there, and sometimes it includes Physical CRBs, in addition to a load of other great PDFs. 

When looking to GM, I recommend the following pages in the CRB first. I’ve also linked the corresponding Archive pages: 

Introduction, Pages 7-31. This will give you the rundown on key terms, how characters are created, the base flow of the game, and the action system (the best part of pf2e!)

Playing the Game, Pages 443-481. This is the longest section of the rulebook to read, but there’s a lot of great stuff in here. This will give you the rules for checks, combat, conditions, resolving actions, and the differences between encounter, exploration, and downtime mode. The most important is encounter and exploration mode, so you can feel free to only skim the downtime mode section of this part. 

The Gamemastering section has a lot of great stuff, but for a GM, your two most important sections will be the following:

Encounter Building, pages 488 and 489. The rules for building encounters work in this system, and they work WELL. Obviously, environment, terrain, and how a specific groups strengths and weaknesses compare to a monster affect things, but if you budget a moderate encounter, it can be expected to be moderate. Just be sure you recognize that Moderate encounters are still meant to be challenging in this system, and Severe encounters are potentially deadly. Extreme encounters should be used incredibly sparingly. Maybe 1 or 2 times per campaign.

DC Charts and Adjusting DCs. Pages 503 and 504.  If you ever need a quick DC, these charts are your friend. You don’t need to memorize them, but you’ll want to have them in an easy-to-reference spot.

Youtubers

There are a lot of great youtubers for PF2e. I’ll only be highlighting a few of my favorites here!

How It’s Played  is probably the best resource for a new player, and helped me a ton with all of the rules when I started GMing. They do close looks at different subsystems, and clearly break down how the rules apply. You don’t need to watch all of their content before you jump in and play, but if you watch a few of their main series on PF2e between each session, you’ll be a rules master in no time! 

I also really enjoy The Rules Lawyer. He always has well-reasoned takes on things going on in the hobby, and and has an enjoyable calm/measured tone. I highly recommend his “Combat Tactics” videos, as he highlights some of the major differences with 5e and what things are now expected to survive. A lot of common 5e tactics are a way to a quick death in PF2e, but you do have the tools to survive!

The final Youtuber I’ll be highlighting is Nonat1s. He’s puts out quite a variety of videos, including skits and other fun things, but is also a wonderful ambassador for the game and gives great character advice as well. I want to highlight his “Welcome to Pathfinder Second Edition” video, which is just perfect!

Other Resources

I can’t create a list of resources without calling out Pathbuilder! It is hands down the best character builder, and its available on desktop and mobile. It’s mostly free, with a small donation being required to unlock premium features. At this time, there is no crossover between the web app and desktop besides being able to save and access characters from google drive.

The Pathfinder 2e Subreddit  is a wonderful community of people, and it’s a great place for discussion. There’s weekly question megathreads, discussions about releases, people highlighting great builds and fun things in the system, and it’s probably the quickest place to keep track of announcements. There’s also a lot of love for 3pp there!

Speaking of 3pps, I LOVE the Battlezoo line! One of my players is OBSESSED with dragons, and they have a whole book that was tailor-made for him, and it’s incredibly balanced and fun. They’ve also got a whole bunch of other cool stuff that’s been kickstarted and will be releasing soon. 

What VTT should you use if you’re playing online? My hat is thrown into the ring for Foundry VTT. It’s my VTT of choice. It’s wildly powerful with the Pathfinder 2e system, and a wonderful community of devs have gotten the system almost entirely automated so you can focus on RP! It’s a breeze as a GM as well, and the only difficulty is in self-hosting, but even that isn’t too bad. Their site has a great set of guides, starting HERE with the ways you can host. If you choose to self-host, you only need to make a 1-time payment of 50 dollars for the software, and only one person needs to actually do the hosting. Split between a group? That’s incredibly affordable, especially considering there is no subscription!

I’m gonna shout MYSELF out here. I put together a List of Actions you can take in combat that isn’t just moving or attacking. Coming from 5e, it can be easy to get stuck in the loop of move and attack, but there are so many more options, and those options are very crucial. This isn’t comprehensive, but covers the basics characters can have access to with only minor skill investment.

#pathfinder #pf2e #masterpost #ogl #orc #suck it wotc

[chinomiko]

hi! i know it must be kinga boring for you recive questions about castiel bc ppl are obsessed ober him for years but like the other person who asked you a few days ago, i follow you (and ply mcl) for like 10 years and ever since day one my fav boy has been tiel. till this day at the age of 22 he's my favorite and my comfort boy so i joke that he's not a fictional character anymore for me and that i know him personally at this point lol

with that being said, i bet you can imagine that over the years i've been elaborating his personality beyond what the game gives us but he's your boy, you created him therefore you know him and your word is canon, so i'd like to ask a few stuff!! nothing too big, dont worry but here we go.

tiel is an amazing songwriter and since he's very emotional not very good at express it (he does it a lot better now that he's an adult 🥹) i bet his lyricism is very deep and poetic so i have this headcanon that he at first wouldn't like taylor swift because obviously lol but then he payed attention to her lyrics and ends up basically being a swiftie since he likes her writing a lot. what you think about that?

and what kind of music crowstorm sings? like there are any bands that you listen and think "hey this would be in a crowstorm album!" (i have a playlist with this name btw lol). im probably wrong on this one but since this is my fav band i like to think that catfish and the bottlemen are the irl crowstorm, musically speaking

and the last one: another thing that gives me so much comfort is the lystiel friendship. not having present parents, being so closed off i know that lysander is such an important presence on tiel's life because he was basically the only close person he had (specially after the debrah fiasco); if lys didnt had taken the farm and went to college and bla bla bla do you think he would still be part of the band with castiel? im not sure if im mixing the canon with a fanfic i read a while ago (lol) but the band was more of a fun thing to lys, right? he liked writing most (i always imagined him getting into a literature degree or something like this). i also like to think that he helps tiel with lyrics at times, even if he's out of the band (in my head the canon is that they are best friends and pretty close till this day, i pretend lys never left our lives just like armin)

anyways sorry for this big ask 😭 i dont even know if you will read it all but if you do, thank you! and dont feel like you have to answer, i know its too much its just that mcl is my hyperfixation till this day like for real, i have a fanfic that i write still and i even plan on making it into a book sometime. except from the main characters (who is my oc) all the characters will be based on the game's ones :)

ilysm take care and stay hydrated!!

Hellow !

Aww thank you so much and for all your love for Castiel ^^

What a long ask, I'll try to answer in order.

Castiel being a swiftie. No sorry, I don't think he would be. If candy likes her, I'm pretty sure he would try to listen. Also he is an open minded person for sure, so I'm sure he would be curious to listen and study what all the hype is about, it could also help as some sort of far away inspiration, but I don't see him being a fan.

What kind of songs Crowstorm sings This is hard to answer because my musical knowledge is pretty limited and I'm sure I would miss on lot of potential groups or singers that would fit well. And it would require too much research time to have a real detailed and clear answer, but I still did check a bit and here is a little list of songs/groups that I think would have a fitting vibe for Crowstorm

City of the dead - Hollywood Undead The worst in me - bad omens Paranoid - I prevail Trauma Just pretend - Bad omens Ice Nine Kills - A grave mistake Catfish and the bottlemen sounds nice but I think its a bit too soft for what I imagine for Crowstorm.

What is his voice like I think something similar to this (not necessarily the song itself, just the voice. )

bonus, I think this song is so so fitting for Castiel's breakup song, I love it. Dial Tone - Catch your breath

Castiel and Lys friendship. It was'nt mentionned much in UL/LL because I didnt wish to bring too much drama by mentioning Lys when he was not there for the players, but of course Lys and Cast always kept in touch. It is very clearly mentionned in Lys' AL that they keep in touch, that Lys helps Castiel write songs and Cast also like to come to his farm to have a break and spend time together. You should play it if you havent, you'll have a good chunk of Cast and Lys friendship :) However yeah I can confirm that Lys would not like to do it serisouly and professionally, but he'll be all the way around to support and help Cast.

#chinomiko #my candy love #otome game #castiel #original character #canon lore #mcl

[abiiors]

truth or dare 🌙 // george daniel x reader

a/n: this is based on a few requests and also loosely a sequel to first time and midnight, car lights. so the ages are 18 and 20! i tried to make this as realistic as possible so it's not perhaps the hottest thing ever but it's weirdly sweet haha

cw: brother's best friend, loss of virginity, smut in general, fingering. they talk :)) so much :)), the use of "good girl", female reader

wc: 6.3k

the room is buzzing with energy. loud and boisterous sounds of people having fun and whooping along to a silly game of truth or dare. matty already has his tongue down someone’s throat—as a “dare” of course. you cringe internally. 

it’s one thing to sit and play a game of truth or dare with your brother’s friends and potentially spill embarrassing secrets, it’s another to sit there and watch your brother practically dry hump some girl you’ve never seen before. 

and then there’s andrew who keeps looking at you like he wants them to do the same. 

you stifle the urge to retch. 

“alright, alright,” ross puts his hands up, “we get it, let’s move on.”

matty and the girl pull away amidst boyish whoops and giggles. the girl hides her mouth behind her hand, coy and flirty, and matty, ever the little shit, throws her a wink. 

“okay, okay, right. good luck to whoever who has to sleep near matty’s bedroom tonight,” one of the people jokes and another roar of laughter goes up. great, yeah, fucking hilarious. because once again, that would be you. 

“next up!” andrew picks up the bottle, wiggling it at the crowd of people and building up excitement. 

it spins and spins and spins in dizzying circles and for a moment you wonder if it will ever stop or slow down. it’s a silly thought. of course, the bottle slows dows, going past you once before losing some more momentum, then past you again and you breathe a sigh of relief. not you…

until somehow, the bottle gets second wind, spinning way past what it should have been able to, its nozzle coming closer and closer and closer before it stops right on you. 

when the next cheer goes up, it sounds like it’s coming from under water. 

you look aroud at the faces of the people gathered. the growing sense of dread climbs up your spine, manifests in visible goosebumps that you resist rubbing away. fuck this, fuck your brother and fuck his friends. 

matty is utterly useless when you glance at him for any kind of help. all he does is grin mischievously, clearly relishing the idea of you being at the center of attention. next to him, george sits with an unreadable expression. but you know looking at him is not a good idea…

looking at him only makes you think about the kiss and how you have not spoken since…

andrew, who had spun the bottle, wears a sly smile, his eyes still fixed on you. you know him well enough to understand that he's been angling for this moment. the rest of your brother's friends exchange knowing glances, anticipating some juicy revelation or an embarrassing dare;.

ross, trying to keep the game moving, speaks up, "alright, truth or dare?"

you briefly consider choosing dare, thinking you might be able to dodge a potentially embarrassing truth. but you know these guys—they're relentless when it comes to dares, especially when it's your turn. besides, you don't give a shit if you appear cowardly in front of them.

taking a deep breath, you muster some courage. "truth."

a couple boos ring out. matty makes an exaggerated “pfft” and goes back to his makeout. george just stares at you with a raised eyebrow. 

but there’s one person in the room whose attention doesn’t waver. andrew still has that persistent look in his eyes, clearly brainstorming something devious.

“your most interesting sex story. go,” he grins, staring at you with the utmost interest. 

you roll your eyes and groan audibly. “really, andrew? couldn’t think of something original?”

“yes, really,” he counters, sounding like a fucking knobhead. “and i wanna know. the rules are the rules.”

you look around the room, trying not to panic. everyone has gone from looking bored at you picking truth to back to looking at you with wide eyes. and no amount of trying stops the heat from creeping up your neck. 

“i don’t–it’s not interesting,” you stammer out. trying to make up something on the spot. “they’ve been pretty basic. just regular stuff.”

you hope it’s enough for them to lose interest again, to call you boring and vanilla and move on to the next person. but fuck andrew and fuck his lecherous curiosity. 

“what’s ‘pretty basic’?” he pokes a tongue in his cheek, eating up the subsequent oooohs with a big smile. 

you look around the room, first at matty only to find that he and the girl are already halfway out the door, heading up to his room (gag). then you look at the next best person. 

george. stoic george with his arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring at andrew as if he could kill him with his stare alone. 

“your usual stuff, andrew…” you grit out, staring at a spot behind him. you should have just stopped this, should have told him that truth entails one question and one question only and it’s none of his business but you’ve always let matty’s friends strong arm you. 

“so describe it, little healy—”

“don’t call her that.” 

to your surprise, it’s george who speaks up before you do. his entire body vibrates with tension, jaw clenched and arms taut. 

“move on, andrew,” his voice has an edge of warning. “she clearly doesn’t want to discuss it.”

you stare at him in awe, about to nod as a silent thank you when george stares directly at you. “besides, why do you want to know something so boring and vanilla?”

the people snicker and you feel your face drop. his tone is not cruel, it’s just matter of fact which somehow hurts more. a faint buzzing fills your ears, increasing by the second. 

this is too much. you need peace and quiet and the comfort of your own room, not this stupid party with all these idiots. you should have never agreed to it. 

the bottle spins again, you do not wait to see who it lands on. instead, you do the cowardly thing of running up to your bedroom.

“the last time i checked, the game was called truth or dare,” george drawls behind you just as you’re about to open the door to your bedroom. 

you barely even wait for him, rolling your eyes to yourself and opening the door in a huff. he’s just like the rest of them—an idiot. an idiot you were stupid enough to kiss and have a crush on. 

of course, george doesn’t back away too easily. 

pushing his way into your room behind you, he closes the door, acting as if this is his space. deja vu hits you like a tonne of bricks. 

“it’s none of their business,” you retort. 

“shoulda picked dare then…”

“and what? make out with andrew? you and i both know that’s what he was hoping for.”

the serious expression on his face crumbles for a moment, replaced by an annoying little smirk. 

“character development, little healy,” he teases, once again crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the door. 

you don’t know how you always end up like this—george in your room without anyone’s knowledge, looking like the boy of your dreams while you fume at him for one thing or the other. 

“shut up,” you mumble petulantly. 

george doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead choosing to look around him nonchalantly. all you can replay in your head is the kiss, and his stupid little smile after. and then the fact that he seemed to vanish into thin air for two weeks.

you can't help but feel a mixture of irritation and curiosity. he's always been a puzzle to you—maddeningly frustrating yet undeniably intriguing and despite your attempts to resist his charm, there's a part of you that can't help but be drawn to him.

you decide to break the tense silence that has settled between you two. "what are you even doing here, george?" you demand, your voice laced with annoyance.

frustratingly enough, he chooses to answer it with a question of his own. 

“why is sex such a touchy topic?” george toys with his bracelet, “you’re only 18. most people your age haven’t done it yet.”

“you’re joking, right?” you laugh, unable to hide your incredulity. “and what does it matter to you if i have or haven’t done it.”

“it doesn’t,” he shrugs, “not to me. but clearly it matters to you… wouldn’t have been so defensive otherwise.”

“i wasn’t defensive—”

“shup up, george,” he says in a high pitched voice, a crude imitation of you presumably. and it is nothing what you sound like. yet he continues. “i have seen photos, george, i have seen videos!” then he shakes his head, one irresistible lock of hair falling in his face. “isn’t that what you said last time? about the weed?”

“it bothers you, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” he continues when you refuse to speak. “why not ask someone. you’re a pretty girl. any boy your age would say yes.”

“so you do it then,” you challenge. it’s only when the sentence has fully slipped out, beyond your control, that you realise what you just said. it’s only then that your heart starts hammering in your chest.

your back is pressed against the wall of your room. faint music and chatter slips in through the cracks of the door and yet you swear you can hear the loud beat of your heat echoing all around the room. george stills in place. 

“i’m asking you; since you think i have such a problem with being a virgin,” you continue. no point backing out now, no point pretending you didn’t offer to let him fuck you. for the first time. “it’s long overdue anyway. i don’t want candles and flowers and a picnic under the stars. i just want to get it over with.”

“don’t say things you don’t mean, little healy.” his voice has gone hoarse as if it strains him to speak normally. you watch as he swallows roughly, the hollow of his throat becomes prominent for a brief moment and you wonder what it would feel like to get a taste of his skin. 

“who says i didn’t mean it,” you push yourself off the wall, taking one daring step closer. george stays where he is, still looking at you intently, still watching. his lips part as he tries to subtly take in a shaky breath. 

“your brother—”

“doesn’t care,” you finish for him. “someone else has his attention tonight.”

“this is so wrong…”

“why?” 

george scrutinises you, rolling his tongue in his mouth. you follow the line of it, wondering how it would feel in your mouth—its weight and its texture. how it would feel on your body, to be touched like that for the first time. 

“why is it wrong, george? i am old enough. i want this, i am consenting to it.” george stands straighter as you stop right in front of him. 

to an untrained eye, he looks casual and cool as always, effortlessly carrying all 6’4 inches of him, effortlessly beautiful and irresistible. but the vein standing taut on his arm says otherwise. he’s anything but cool and casual. if anything, he’s as charged as a live wire. 

“unless you don’t… unless that’s not something…”

“stop.”

it’s your turn to freeze and gawk up at him wordlessly. george closes the gap between you, stepping towards you until you’re back in your original place; against the wall with his hand resting next to your head. his mouth is so close as he leans down—pink and full and just…filthy. 

“you have no idea… you don’t–fuck. okay.” he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily. his face is a mask of something. almost something you recognise. but it passes just as quickly as it appears. 

“you have never done this before, any of it, have you? you couldn’t even look people in the eye while saying it, bushing and flustered like a schoolgirl.”

“i have!” you burst out, indignant and angry now. “i have done…things. i have kissed and made out with people, i have…people have seen me without a top on.”

george laughs roughly at that and swallows again. the hollow of his throat appears again, right there, tauntingly close. all you have to do is get on your tip toes and you’ll be kissing it. but then there’s the way his other arm snakes around your waist. 

you are pressed flush against the wall with barely an inch between the two of you. and even though he still hasn’t touched you, if anyone walked in on you in this position…

“so you haven’t done shit. tell me something…have you ever been touched like you touch yourself? have you ever had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced? someone ever go down on you? make you see stars and blackout?”

the questions come out like rapid fire; each one making your blood run faster and your heart pound all over your body. heat courses through you. it’s undeniable that you want him to do all those things to you, want him to be the first. 

by the time he’s finished, his mouth is parted. his pupils are so dilated that his eyes might as well be black and you can feel the warmth of his breaths on your face. so you decide to take matters into your own hands, say fuck it and pull him down, crashing your mouth onto his. 

both his hands are on your waist instantly, holding you tightly as his mouth moves against yours. it’s rough and hot, full of want. his body is pressed against yours, his hard chest and the bulge in his jeans against the softness of your body. this is so much different than the first kiss. it’s all hardness and intensity and hot searing kisses. 

you’re vaguely aware of jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his middle, vaguely aware of george moving across the room and placing you on the bed. 

george barely breaks the kiss when he takes his top off, warm skin pressed against yours. your head spins. 

this is happening. this is happening with george. with GEORGE. 

there’s a part of you that wants to run around the room and hyperventilate. another part of you—the much bigger one—decides to be bold again, copying his moments as you take your top off too, silently thanking the patron gods of teenage sex that you chose to wear a good bra. 

“you really…” he pants, struggling to catch his breath for a second. “you really want this? with me?”

your hair sticks to his jaw a you pull back slightly, just enough to be able to speak. 

“i do, i—” a rough swallow, “i want you.”

“okay then,” he leans forward again, then stops, trying to fight off the massive smile making its way onto his face. you didn’t think there would be something to find endearing in the middle of a one night stand. yet here you are, fighting a big goofy smile of your own.

“show me what you do,” george sits at the end of your bed, watching you with hooded eyes. his chest glistens with sweat—so does yours, you imagine—making his tattoos stand out in the warm light of your bedroom. “when you touch yourself, how do you do it.”

heat creeps up your cheeks at the prospect of being entirely naked and vulnerable in front of him. shyness floods your body making you avert your gaze and bite your lip nervously. not that you don’t trust him enough, but you don’t want to be ogled at so blatantly. 

“uh–um, i don’t–that’s…” it’s frustrating that you can’t even get a proper sentence out, stuttering and stammering like a fucking child but george clocks it instantly. 

“what is it?” this time his voice is gentle, curious. “is it too much? do you want to stop—”

“no! no, i just…” you keep your eyes averted building the courage to tell him exactly what you want. there’s no denying the fact that george makes you nervous; he always has but you have to remind yourself what he said—practically drilled into you—at the beginning. 

you are in control of everything. all of it. 

“i don’t want to be stared at, that–that’s too much.”

his features soften as realisation dawns on him. you wonder if you’ve put him off—sex should go both ways, after all. what’s the point if only one of you enjoys yourself? 

“right then…” silently, george moves from the foot of the bed to right next to you. 

the movement makes the bed dip and your breath quivers in anticipation the closer he comes. is he going to put a stop to it? break it to you gently that he’s not interested anymore. maybe you should have sucked it up and done what he told you to do, he’s the one with more experience after all…

“what are you…”

he settles himself right next to you, legs spread open just wide enough for—

“come here,” he instructs and pats the space in front of him. “how about you show me some other way. guide my hand, if that’s okay.”

for a moment, the idea stuns you. of course you knew what sex entailed but it’s just…it’s so much happening all at once. so much that requires being vulnerable. 

but you trust george. so you nod and do as he’s told you. 

you close your eyes once you settle yourself between his legs, fully immersing yourself in the feeling of him all around you—his cologne and cigarettes and the hint of sweat that’s somehow the most perfect combination ever. your hand is so much smaller on top of his, guiding him down starting just at your navel. his other hand is on your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between his fingers expertly. 

george doesn’t need you to guide him, judging by the gasps and moans that he draws out of you, you know he can make you feel good either way. but this is more for you than him, more so you would feel in control, and that adds to the thrill of it all the more. 

“does this feel good, sweetheart? is this okay?” his voice is all around you, skittering over your bones and sending a shiver down your spine. all you can do is nod and whimper. all you want to do is guide his hand further down. 

george lets you. 

the callouses on the pad of his fingers leave electric tingles in their wake as they brush your pelvis. a gasp echoes around the room, sharp and sudden. 

“that’s it,” he coaxes, “show me how you like it.”

his fingers graze the inside of your thighs and right above the waistband of your underwear, leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. 

“take these off me?” you breathe out into the stillness of your room. he takes no time in obliging—hooking a finger in them and lifting your hips off the bed to slide the delicate fabric down your thighs and past your knees until they’re discarded somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. this is it, you, here, fully naked and at his mercy. 

“better?” he asks.

you nod, leaning your head back onto his collarbone. george nips at your skin, making you giggle and loosening some of the tension filling your body. his fingers hover over your clit, waiting for you to show him what you want. 

“fuck, george,” you breathe as soon as you feel his touch—it’s just the right pressure, the right pace as he circles your clit. your hand falls slack, back arching off his chest lightly as you bite your lips to stifle a loud moan. 

this is nothing like you’ve felt before, nothing like your own hands make you feel. this is like tiny fireworks right under your skin. 

“shit, that–that feels so good.”

george hums behind you, keeping up with the pace you set. his fingers dip between your folds, teasing and inching towards your opening—keeping you on edge. the sheets are bunched between your fingers, sweaty back pressed to his chest. george nibbles at your neck, right over your pulse point as his fingers play with your nipples; stimulating, sending jolts through your whole body. 

“so wet,” he breathes, peppering kisses down your shoulder. his finger circles your entrance, rough and thicker than your own, better than you’re used to. “so perfect for me.”

it’s enough for you to cry out—whine really. because you want him, need to feel him. but he’s taking his own sweet time. 

“what was that for, huh? needy little thing,” he taunts, “what do you want?”

between the words and his gruff voice, all thoughts fly out of your head for a second. he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet and your head is already starting to feel like mush. 

“you, please,” you all but beg, “want your fingers in me, please george…”

“think you’re ready to take it?”

nodding nervously, you spread your legs wider. your hand reaches back, caressing the nape of neck, scratching it in slow sensual circles. hearing him groan is enough to calm your nerves. sure, the effect you have on him is minuscule compared to what he’s doing to you, but it’s a small victory regardless. 

george falters for a brief moment, head thrown back as you feel the spike in his heartbeat. it makes your own skip a beat. but he recovers quickly, teasing your folds a bit more, finger circling your entrance.

“tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” 

your stomach churns from a mix of anxiety and excitement—this is happening, this is really happening. george tuts when you nod on auto-pilot. 

“need you to say it, love. use your words.”

“y–yes, yes, i will.”

“good girl,” he whispers, lips pressed to the shell of your ear. 

before you even have the time to react to that, he slides a finger in, just the tip first. he goes slow, takes just enough time to gague your reaction.

it’s a strange sensation—a good sensation. his finger is noticeably thicker than yours, and longer, the pad of it scratches against your insides, making you gasp. george stops once he’s all in. 

“good?”

“fuck–yes!” 

all you need to do is give him that little nudge before he pulling the finger out again, and thrusting it in, this time faster, rougher. your insides feel like liquid, melting further and further with each graze of his callouses, with each thrust, and oh the rhythm…

you knew he would know how to set a pace but somehow he gets it right on the first try, going just slow enough to give your body time to adjust but fast enough for a familiar knot to build in your stomach. his thumb presses against your clit each time. 

“oh my god–oh god…” you can’t remember the last time you’ve chanted it so thoroughly, reciting it like a prayer and chasing your high. 

“need to add another finger, sweetheart. need to stretch you out, that okay?”

his voice makes you jolt. it’s all around you, deep and scratchy and almost a growl—teeming with lust. of course it is, you can feel his hard on pressed against the small of your back, can feel the way his heart is thumping in his chest. you can hear his audible swallows and groans each time you dig your nails into his thighs, every time you grind against him when the pleasure becomes too much. 

“mm-hmm,” you nod vigorously, “yes… need more…”

it’s frankly a surprise that you still have the ability to speak because every single part of your body feels like it’s melting, blood zapping through your body, pushing your heart into overdrive.

this time when george thrusts in, it’s with two fingers. you cry out at the sudden stretch, the burn that accompanies it. george falters when you jolt forward.

“shit–shit did i hurt you?”

hurt?? 

“no, i—” it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and to take the whiney edge off your voice. “that felt good… better than before. keep going, please, just—”

george doesn’t let you finish, pushing his fingers inside you again. the hilt of his palm crashes against your clit, rougher than before and your body trembles from all of it.

“such a perfect girl, taking me so well.” his words add to the heady intoxication. 

your head spins, completely blanking out on anything else. all that matters right now is george and his hands and his voice. his lips latch onto your neck, sucking on your sweet spot and peppering kissing and this time the buzzing that fills your ears is nothing like before. 

now as your legs shake and spasm, you know you’re close. 

“gonna cum, george, fuck…keep going…” it’s a whine, you don’t know where it just came from but now is not the time to care about that. 

his fingers keep moving in and out, plunging into you, drawing out wet and obscene sounds until you feel them hooking inside you, without warning. when george parts his fingers inside you, stretching you more, it’s enough to push you over the edge. 

with a cry, you slump against him, gushing onto his hand, incapable of doing anything else as waves of pleasure crash onto you, blinding you almost. this has never happened before… never. not with your own hand, or the tiny white bullet in your drawer. something about his body makes your blood sing.

facing george after that feels like a daunting task. he did just witness you completely falling apart on his hand and who knows what kinds of sounds you made in the heat of the moment…

a flush creeps up your face when george turns you around.

“fuck…” he breathes, panting, his heavy breaths mixing with yours. “that was so hot, fuck!”

for a second you don’t know what to say so you sit there, trying not to nervously bite on your lip, averting his eyes. because that was just the foreplay… the main part is yet to come. 

“did you enjoy that?” he asks tentatively. another second ticks by before you feel a hand under your chin, tilting it up. 

“sweetheart…” george begins. his eyes are soft—blown out and hooded with lust, sure, but somewhere in there, there’s a tenderness you haven’t seen before. “do you want to stop? it’s alright, if that’s all you want to do tonight. i promise…”

you contemplate it. you want him, you want his closeness and you want his body and if sex feels anything like what you just felt then you absolutely can’t wait for it.

“i want to keep going,” you reply. 

this time, george leans forward, hand still on your chin, holding it in place as he goes in for a kiss. something soft and sweet. a stolen moment of leisure amidst all the burning passion and hormone filled lust. 

“are you in your head?” he asks after a minute. 

you know the answer is yes. it shouldn’t be this difficult, he has done nothing to make you feel uncomfortable. on the contrary, you have never felt so safe with another boy. 

“i think so…yeah. i just, i don’t know how to stop overthinking it.”

he contemplates it for a long time, at least it feels like a long time. you’re aware of the wetness between your legs, of the little fire in your stomach that still hasn’t gone out. you’re aware of how hard he is and yet how he hasn’t even talked about himself yet. 

“can i touch you?” 

it’s an unsure question; your voice sounds small to your ears but there’s an undertone of curiosity. his eyes widen. 

george nods, moving to take off his brief. when he’s done, george settles on his knees, now fully naked. 

your breath catches in your throat. it’s not like you haven’t seen a dick before. you’ve watched porn. the first guy who made out with you and got to third base had you feel him over his jeans. and although it was more unsettling than it was fascinating, it was a new experience. 

but watching george is a mesmerising thing. he’s not shy about his body, if anything, his bold confidence makes him hotter than any other boy you’ve ever known. 

“please.” he breathes in deeply, trying to stay still as your hand inches between his thighs. 

he’s big, at least to you he is, thick and hard. george groans loudly when you trace his length with a finger, running it along his red tip that already leaks with precum. the sound is throaty, almost a growl. so this is what a man looks like when he’s fighting to stay in control. 

his eyes are closed, a string of curses falling from his lips as you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, moving it tentatively—slow strokes from the base to his tip and back again. his body shudders, the hollow of his throat moves. 

“i’m gonna cum if you keep doing that, love.” his voice is a throaty whisper, his nails dig into the flesh of his thighs even as he so clearly struggles not to thrust his hips into your hand. 

it’s the small, impulsive movement that fills you up with some confidence. a tiny thrill of pride shoots through you, thoroughly pleased at the way his body responds to your touch. some of the tension in your body dissipates. 

“well, isn’t that the goal here? to make you cum?” 

george clicks his tongue, “not before you. tonight is about you. my pleasure is just a byproduct.”

george moves before you have the time to respond, grabbing his jeans from the foot of the bed to look for his wallet. and there, inside, as expected is a small, silver square. 

“you ready for it?” 

“yes,” you say and this time, there’s not a hint of doubt in it. “yes i am.”

george tears the foil with his teeth, spitting it out to one side and taking the condom out. you watch unabashedly as he rolls onto his dick. his fingers work deftly—practiced, sure movements; small things that make you aware once again of how inexperienced you are. 

but that’s about to change. 

his mouth is back on yours, hand back between your legs, drawing rough eight figures on your clit. you barely even registers as george lays you down on your back. all you can focus on are his fingers dipping in and out of you once again, quick and expert thrusts that have you on the edge again in no time. 

“lift your hips for me, love. just like that.” his voice is soft, his eyes are softer. there’s a tenderness to his face that you’ve never seen before; a stillness that’s gentle and comforting. 

poised on top of you, you can feel his tip brushing against your entrance. nerves flood your body as you do what he’s asked.

“george…” it surprises you how shaky your voice sounds. for all your bravado before, your mouth feels dry. “please just…go slow, please.”

he pauses for a moment and you marvel at his self-control once again. he could so easily just chase his orgasm somewhere else, fuck someone else at the party. yet here he is, pausing every two minutes to make sure you’re alright and enjoying yourself. 

he cups your face, gently running a thumb along your lower lip. 

“i will. as slow as you want.”

his hand is back between your legs, teasing and brushing against your clit, melting your moans into small bursts of ecstasy. his fingers keep moving, building up pleasure again, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until a second orgasm hits you. 

as you writhe under george, trying to ride out your high by grinding against his hand, he kisses you again, tongue licking the inside of your mouth, teeth clashing against teeth. 

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he pants. his voice is strained. you imagine he’s being pushed to his limits. 

“yes, just–just do it, i am ready.”

lining himself against your entrance, george pushes in. the first few seconds are completely normal. he moves slowly, sticking to your limits and pressing small kisses on your face. the stretch you feel is fine, exactly how it was when you were riding his fingers. a moans slips out, full of lust. and that’s when the burn starts. 

tears well up on your bottom lashline the more he pushes in. you feel too full, more than you ever have, too stretched out. 

“are you in?” your voice quivers and george pauses. 

“not yet, sweetheart. but almost.”

another nod from you and he moves again, the burn intensifies, turning your moans of pleasure into whimpers of pain until george bottoms out and stills in place. 

“you okay? does it hurt?” his voice is hushed, words coming out rapidly as he tries to make sure everything is alright. despite everything, the concern in his voice melts your heart. 

“hurts a little. can you just–just stay still for a bit?”

he nods again. george lowers his forehead, resting it onto yours. the moments stands suspended in time. by the time, the burn subsides, you’re kissing again—slow and sweet, fingers intertwined.

“okay,” you nod into the crook of his neck, “okay you can move.”

the stinging is back when he starts moving back and forth. he’s going as slow as possible, you know it, yet it takes you body a bit longer to adjust, for sparks of pleasure to come through between the pain. 

when you open your eyes, you find him already looking at you, a soft pink flush visible on his cheeks. to your surprise george averts his eyes quickly. 

“i–uh,” he stammers a little, “i’m–um, i’m not gonna last long.” the last part is whispered, like a shameful confession. “you’re really tight and–fuck! fuck, baby it feels so good…”

“george,” you interrupt before he has the chance to keep going. he thrusts in again just then, a bit harder than before. this time, the pleasure is much stronger than the pain. all thoughts fly out the window momentarily, but you cradle his face in your hands. brush your fingers on his cheek. 

“you’re already making me feel so good. shit, george, don’t apologise. just–you can go a bit harder if you want.” another gasp gets struck in your throat, another little broken moan. 

george moves faster, hips bucking, slamming into yours lightly. the friction, the stretch, all of it is better than you could have ever imagined. you couldn’t care less how long he lasts. it’s your body that makes him go crazy, you that’s currently making him losing it. that thought alone is enough to send bolts of lightning all throughout your body. 

feeling a little bold, you do the thing you’ve only watched girls in porn do. you wrap your legs around his waist and it’s like something clicks in place. suddenly he’s sliding in much deeper than he was before, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes your mind go blank and your jaw go slack. 

“fuck fuck fuck,” george curses. his pace increases. whatever control he had on himself has finally snapped, whatever leash he had kept on himself, finally gone. 

maybe your eyes roll back in pleasure, maybe your legs tighten around his waist, the only thing you remember is clenching around him, telling him over and over again how good it feels. 

“so good for me, baby, so perfect,” he coos, hand snaking down between your joined bodies. he finds your clit again, swollen and wet and so sensative, it’s like a thunderstorm just under the surface of your skin.

“gonna cum, sweetheart,” george grunts out. “cum with me, can you do that? hmm?”

you nod, or you think you do. all you remember is grinding on his pelvis and mewling when he flicks your clit. it’s the sound that gets to him, that pushes him over the edge. when his orgasm hits, you feel him twitch inside you. somewhere in the haze, a third orgasm washes over you. 

you watch him mesmerised, desperately trying to keep your eyes open, to memorise the look of pure bliss on his face as he fucks into you, riding out his orgasm, letting you ride out yours. his thrusts slow down, eventually coming to a stop. 

george doesn’t pull out instantly, instead, he collapses on top of you, breathing hard, panting into your neck. your sweaty bodies stick to each other, still locked in together. 

it takes him a minute to gather himself. a minute until he can say, “gonna pull out okay? it might hurt.”

it does a little but the tingles in your body take over and all you feel is a slight sting. 

“that was—” you start and stop again, completely at a loss for words. 

“yeah?” he laughs a little, lying next to you and pulling you into his chest. 

he’s warm and a bit sticky but this is nice, you think, the way his body envelopes yours entirely. 

“was i good?”

he hums. “you were perfect.”

the butterflies in your stomach intensify. perfect. it’s nice to hear that word. especially nice to hear it from him.

"you might be a bit sore tomorrow," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "but don't worry, sweetheart. i'll stay and take care of you."

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#the next fic you get from me will be promptober unless inspiration strikes unexpectedly lol #the 1975 #george daniel #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george daniel smut #bbf!george #brother's best friend #george x reader #george x you #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fic #minors do not interact #smut writing #smut #the 1975 fanfic