#changed. or alternatively that the game is entirely over

[writer-room]

They became the signals, do you understand. They became the sailors. Alex, Jonas, Clarissa, Ren, Nona, they were the USS Kanaloa. They were the trapped, lost souls who were so desperate to get out. They were the ones preying on the traumatized and vulnerable, knowing how to convince Olivia away because it happened to them, too. Their only difference from the sailors is that they tried to be ‘nicer’ about it, that Alex was able to drop everything before it went too far, but even then...

All of it, every last piece, is a cycle. Of time, of trauma, of generations, of death. Leave is not possible on any of these fronts, because it is impossible to leave when claws sink in so deep that you run right back to the beginning, and only at the end, looking back, do you realize what you broke as you fought to go home. Becoming what hurt you, because you knew no other way to survive.

They’re kids. They’re scared, lost kids, who didn’t know what else to do. So they acted on what they hoped would work, and they’d think about those consequences when they were finally safe. The sailors almost had them, so they will follow suit, but they’ll do it right, and then they’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay, won’t it?

They wanted to live. But so did the sailors. 

And so, once more, we return to the beginning.

[italyveneziano]

Finally getting the answers to what the plans for HetaOni were honestly feels like this

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Joel Miller x reader

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summary | Joel's pent up, you've got ideas.

author's note | just had the urge to do some free-use/cnc stuff with softer jackson!joel, huddled into my little writing cave and came up with this. also, happy birthday to the man who's brought me so many great friends within this fandom <3

content warning | 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: CNC, FREE-USE, brief aftercare, established relationship, jackson!joel, pre-arranged dynamics, dom/sub elements, mentions of safewords, facefucking & forcefucking, eating out from the back, none of this is good for joel's knees, a short game of chase, claiming kink, degradation, slapping (consensual), unprotected piv, creampies. this fic contains dark elements, if it is not your thing, continue on.

word count — 4.7k

It grows like weeds in your brain.

Joel is notoriously tightly wound and rigid. Only in the comfort of his own home do you see the softer side of him, still subdued and quiet—most of his words transferred through touches and silent facial expressions.

You’ve grown on him, opened him up in a way that most would never be able to.

You weren’t ever on his radar nor was he on yours—there was a sort of stigma around Joel, off-limits completely of his own volition, a natural recluse. You only ever really saw him with Ellie and Tommy, otherwise he was busy with patrol or a complete ghost.

It wasn’t until you’re paired up with him on patrol that something changes.

It wasn’t instantaneous either, but just as persistent with the thought in your brain as you stare at him now, leaned against the bar with a sour expression, you grew on him.

You were well-versed; starting fires, skinning animals, and knowing how to field strip your pistol with your eyes closed.

Joel witnessed it once and he’s not sure he’s ever been more entranced by something in his entire life, the genuine confusion on his face as you finally glance up at him was enough to kickstart the beginning of…whatever this was.

There weren't any explicit labels given—but if Joel wasn’t in your bed at night, you were always in his. Things were just that; happening, existing. You were settled with the fact that labels and titles weren’t of immediate concern in the grim apocalypse.

Joel’s hair is grown out and you feel the constant need to tuck it behind his ear, doing so as he eyes you carefully, jaw tight and set in place, hand gripping tight around the glass in his hand.

“I think you need an outlet,” your voice is quiet, starkly opposite of the room around you.

You’ve got your own language, communicating through silence that is cataloged through expressions and subtle emotion. He’s clearly had a bad day, a bad week, coming back to you reeking of decay and musk, traversing through rain and hoards of infected for weeks just to take out a few groups that wander too close to Jackson, riddled with cuts and bruises that you tried to convince yourself a kiss would heal it quicker.

“Let’s go,” you suggest, finger trailing down his bicep until you can pry the glass from his hands.

Joel is more than willing to be dragged away into silence, never the most chipper individual at the community events that his brother and wife insisted on holding for morale.

–

It’s strange how diplomatic the suggestion becomes, a conversation over a shared cup of coffee—Joel was running low and inherently stingy.

“That side isn’t a mystery to me,” you tell him, watching how he stares at you wearily over the cup, “I’ve seen you kill men with your bare hands. Granted, they deserved it.”

“So, you think me hurtin’ you is a better alternative?”

You sigh, shoulders shrugging. You reach forward and claw your fingers into the front of his shirt and tug, pulling him toward you slightly, face falling flat and serious.

“I’m not so easily broken, Miller,” you retort, “Besides, with this, we can set rules.”

“Rules?” 

Suddenly, he’s an echo. 

You nod—in all seriousness, you wanted him to understand.

“We’ll have a safe word, something non-verbal in case we can’t talk. There’s a mutual understanding, trust—”

“No, I know…I know how this works,” Joel interjects, “Jus’ didn’t suspect this was something you were willin’ to try is all.”

“I like your gentle side,” you assure him with a subtle smile, fingers trailing up his neck and through the stubble of his graying beard, curling around the back of his head and into his soft curls, “but I like it just as much as the rest of you.”

Joel’s silent, pensive as usual, his hand curling around the back of your neck to mimic your own touch, and he nods, “We can try it, f’it is somethin’ we both want.”

“I’m all in,” you grin wider, carefully prying the mug from his grip and placing it on the counter at your hip, “are you?”

“Game on, sweetheart,” He breathes against your mouth before he captures you in a slow kiss; the kind that makes your heart flutter with need, a floating feeling as it grows.

–

He doesn’t give you any warning, but you wanted it that way.

There had always been an understanding that Joel could have you whenever he pleased, the same extended to you—as long as it was when you were both alone.

Espresso is the word you both settle on, a vested interest in the situation.

It was the element of surprise that made it all the more enticing, both of you running on empty most days, and with the usual gentleness that Joel provides on a daily basis, you sense it as you meet his doorstep on this particular night.

He wasn’t back yet, still on his route back with Tommy. But, you knew he’d slip in at some point that night, making yourself at home with the small remnants of your presence throughout his space. 

Shoes at his front door, jacked laid over the back of his couch, the key to your house on his kitchen counter beside his owl mug, a miniscule amount of cold, brown liquid pooling at the bottom.

You leave the lights off, scouring through his cabinets for a clean cup to pour yourself a glass of water, fetching the pitcher from his fridge and vigilant to the gentle creaks of the house, heat expanding and making it snap.

It’s subtle, but something shifts.

You ignore it outright, knowing that Joel wasn’t due home yet.

You replace the pitcher and sip gingerly at the glass of water, obviously to the lingering shadow that seems to move with you, closing your eyes as your head tilts to the side, feeling a pop in your shoulder with the movement, too tense to relax.

It has been like this for the past few days.

Shitty sleeping arrangements, long nights on watch, it was hell on the body.

You hum, eyes closer as your head rolls around and forward. You slide the cup onto the surface of the counter and pull your bottom lip between your teeth and groan softly, allowing everything else to fade away before the pressure comes, sudden and unexpected.

It sends the water in your mouth out, through the hand that’s clamped tight over it.

There’s a soft yelp on your behalf and a grunt of acknowledgement, another strong hand wound tight at your wrist as they were maneuvered so easily behind your back. 

Someone was back early.

“You sure you still want this, sweetheart?”

It was the final moment of grace before you both succumbed to the deep desire of escapism. 

You nod, barely, but Joel feels the movement.

You snap into the subservience naturally.

You fight against his restraint, hearing the soft click of his tongue as he yanks against your movement, “Doors are locked,” his voice is like fire; so hot it burns, “ain’t nowhere for you to run.”

You make a small noise and force the struggle, both desperate to get out of his grip in an effort for the game to begin, but because it did hurt, though the discomfort was nice.

Your breath is uneven, heartbeat hammering in your chest as Joel’s grip tightens. 

His calloused fingers dig into the flesh of your wrists, pinning them behind your back with an ease that makes you shudder, full body.

He’s unrelenting, pressing your body flush against his, the broad plane of his chest a solid, immovable force. He’s always felt intimidating, but you’ve never been on the receiving end like this, caught and cornered.

His breath ghosts over your ear, warm and slow, a sharp contrast to the way he wrenches your hands higher up your spine, dead center on your back while your hips dig into the edge of the counter. 

A low grunt rumbles from his chest as you writhe, the feigned struggle met with nothing but amusement from him. Joel’s always been playful, though often reserved, this was the perfect way to squeeze it out of him.

“Tryin’ awful hard to get away, babygirl,” he muses, voice laced with darkness.

You bite your lip, twisting again, testing. He can feel it under the press of his palm, squeezing tighter against your cheeks. His opposite grip tightens further. A warning. A reminder.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

Your breath catches again as he shifts, pressing you firm and flat against the counter, chest parallel with the surface. The coolness seeps through the thin fabric of your shirt, a sharp contrast to the heat of him behind you, evident arousal against your ass.

 He leans in closer, his nose grazing the shell of your ear before he speaks again, “Say it,” he orders, voice just above a whisper, shirt bunched up in his hands where he has your hands held.

You swallow hard as he removes his palm for a brief moment, your fingers twitching uselessly in his grasp. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His chuckle is low, a rumble of satisfaction. “That’s right.”

His now free hand trails up your stomach, fingertips barely grazing over the fabric of your shirt before he hooks it beneath the hem and yanks it upward, manhandling you with the movement as he pulls it over your head and down your back.

You gasp, the sudden exposure sending a thrill racing through you.

Joel shifts, releasing your wrists only to catch them again a second later as he turns you to face him, this time capturing them at your stomach. He twists them together, holding them in one hand, the fabric of your shirt is ripped apart and knotted around your wrists, keeping you stuck but allowing him full mobility again.

“Color?” he asks, his tone softer, just for a moment.

You exhale shakily, the word coming easily. “Green.”

It was the first time in a few days you’re able to see him and he’s looking particularly wrecked, smelling like mulch and rain, but something so distinctly him.

His fingers tighten around your wrists as he hums in approval and tugs, “Good girl.”

The praise sinks into your skin, setting you alight in a way that has you pulling against him again, an involuntary reaction. 

His grip holds firm, an unspoken reminder of who’s in control.

Your pulse quickens, your body thrumming with anticipation as he steps back just enough to admire his work. Joel’s thumb strokes over the inside of your wrist, a fleeting moment of tenderness before his other hand grips your chin, tilting your head back so you’re forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but you know that look—you’ve seen it before, felt it in the quiet moments when he lets himself want.

“You remember the word too?” he asks.

You nod, pulse roaring in your ears. “Espresso.”

His lips curl into something between a smirk and a snarl.

–

The pout you form is instinctual, watching him examine you for a brief moment, admiring his work, the exquisite press of your tits where they’re trapped between your arms, wrists bound tight, the remnants of your sweats hanging low on your hips from the brief struggle.

He’s witnessed a lot of beauty in his life but nothing quite like you.

He takes a step forward which is met with you moving away, eyes wide with adrenaline and playful fear, so genuine that Joel believes it, like you’re finally seeing him for the monster he really is.

“Don’t run,” he warns, “it won’t end well for you.”

Eventually, your back hits the wall adjacent to the kitchen, beside his front door. It was locked and deadbolted—when the fuck had he managed that? You turn your head to glance but you’re met with his fingers gripping your chin, body closing in.

His hand curls around the expanse of your throat and squeezes.

The pressure is deliberate, a reminder of your helplessness as he forces you back against the wall, trapping you between the solid wood and the heat of his body. His other palm skims over your side, down your hip, a featherlight touch that has you sucking in a sharp breath.

“Breathe for me,” Joel murmurs, thumb tracing over the delicate skin just beneath your jaw.

 He watches you intently, eyes darkened from their normal caramel warmth to near black.

You exhale, slow and measured, eyes steady on him.

His hand drags lower, over your collarbone, down to your sternum, your stomach, before slipping beneath the fabric of your sweats. There’s no hesitation. His hand curls, firm and unforgiving over your cunt, fitted to the size of his girthy hand.

“You feel that?” he asks, his voice rough, and you nod jerkily, “That’s all me. You’re mine now.”

You whimper weakly as your lips part in a gasp, the claim stabbing something deep in your chest. 

He tilts his head, eyes flickering over you, taking in the ragged breath you exhale.

“Still think you can run?” he taunts, smirking, his free hand gripping your hip, squeezing hard enough to make you wince—you’re silent, defiant.

You shift, testing his hold—there was nowhere to go, really.

His smirk deepens, wicked and wildly possessive. “Go on, sweetheart. Try.”

There’s a slight pause to your movements, unsure of what was to come.

Joel nods his head to the side, urging the chase.

Without a thought, you bolt.

His footsteps don’t follow, though.

Where he stays, he strips.

Boots first, then his jacket.

He’s slow, methodical in his movements and calculated.

There’s a few rooms upstairs to choose from—the bathroom was small, confined. Naturally, your instincts lead you toward his room, knowing that inevitably he would find you, but it wouldn’t hurt to play his game.

Joel so easily slipped into whatever role you needed—or that he craved; this side of him that craved you for nothing more than your body, an animalistic need that both of you felt. You enjoyed putting up the fight, the resistance you knew he could snap with a look or a word.

“Shouldn’t be here this late,” you hear his voice carry from downstairs, “sneaking into my house at this hour, no clue what you’re walking into,” heavy footsteps despite his lack of boots, one door opening and another closing, “well—that’s just stupid.”

You bend down to your knees and attempt to crawl toward his bed, hands gripping on the underside to pull yourself out of view, but you were already too late.

There’s a rasp to his voice that you’ve never heard before, the faint jingling of his belt before the door whips open and his hands are wrapped tight around your ankles, pulling with a hefty strength he’s acquired through years of survival.

“Caught you,” he growls, dragging you by your ankles against the faded turquoise rug, “hidin’ from me ain’t gonna do you much good, darlin’.” 

You let out a breathy laugh that borders on a whimper, his presence towering over you before you feel the weight of him settle, pressing your body firmly against the hardwood. You writhe beneath him, not to escape but to incite his need further. He’s kneeling over you now, the sight of him mouthwatering but vaguely frightening, nearly unrecognizable.

Your hips shift against him, and he responds with a hand pressing your wrists above your head, pinning you like prey. The other hand roams down, curling around the band of your sweats before he’s tugging them down and out of the way, the lack of panties not even the least bit surprising for him, shaking his head in amusement.

He knows you’ve been eager for his approach, waiting, but the sight of you now and completely bare underneath him as he tossed the last remnants of your clothes away was enough to quiet the buzzing in his brain, focused intently on the heavy breathing racking your chest, hands still tightly bound, lips parted in anticipation as you watched him, still struggling against his hold.

“You can’t untie me,” you barter, “I’ll be good.”

He chuckles darkly, “Nice try—stop talkin’,”

Your mouth snaps shut at the instructions, face going expressionless as Joel hoists you upright, hands pulling at your elbows until you’re on your feet and you’re pressing against the edge of his bed, the cool sheets kissing your back.

He’s not gentle or rough, rather more firm. He flicks at your chin until you get the silent instruction to lean your head back against the edge of the bed, waiting obediently on your knees for his next move.

“If I let you go–you gonna stay put?” He asks, your eyes too focused on the hand that goes for his zipper, fingers curling around the thick denim band of his jeans, mouth pooling with saliva that begs to drip off the tongue that’s resting against your bottom lip.

The slap is sharp, surprising, but not unwelcome.

There’s a silent moment when you lock eyes that Joel fears that might’ve been a bit too much, but then your bottom lip is pulling between your teeth and you’re nodding to his question finally.

“Good—quiet, I like that,” he tells you and you can feel your body vibrating with the anticipation as he shifts his jeans down, hand dipping inside of his boxers to wrap around his cock, settling the fabric underneath balls, tightly drawn from his straining cock, angered and pulsing with a thick drop of precum at the head, chin gravitating to pull you forward almost on instinct.

Joel scowls, though, pushing you back roughly.

“Look at you, squirmin’ around all helpless and cock hungry. I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ move, did I?”

Your eyes flutter with the harsh movement as you shake your head.

“Open your mouth,” he tells you coarsely, “tongue out—yeah….yeah, there you go,” he rubs the head of his cock over your wet tongue and forcefully feeds it into your mouth, slow and mindful until it nudges against the back of your throat, keeping himself in place as your eyes search for his face.

He smirks down at you, teeth gritting with the strain, watching you struggle to take more of him as you gag around his thick girth, tears pooling in your eyes. He’s got that familiar musk of a day's work, somehow more intoxicating than his normal, sweet scent from your shared body wash.

Joel knows it’s too much. He can feel it in the way your mouth is tightening around him, nostrils flaring to hold on for just a few seconds longer, but he doesn’t care—he wants to see you like this, needs it.

When he finally jerks his hips back and pulls out, a string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock, gurgling against the tip with your chin drenched in spit, drooling shamelessly down your neck as you gasp for a breath of air.

Joel groans through clenched teeth before he’s pushing himself back into your mouth, a low and constant moan rumbling from his chest as he fucks his way into your mouth, hand curled around the top of your skull, the other gripping tight into his sheets as he leveraged the surface for tighter thrusts.

It’s dizzying, bordering on too painful as your eyes flutter shut.

“Fu—fuck,” he stutters, his thrusts faltering, “filthy fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?”

Your response is a soft hum and the gentlest shake of your head you can manage.

Defiance, clear as day.

His hand grips into the hair at the base of your scalp and tugs, holding you tight as he suddenly pulls his hips back, “Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he instructs with a raspy tone, hastily prying your mouth open with his fingers as he slides his cock over your tongue, his brow furrowed at he tugged at his cock with a harsh rhythm, white knuckling the way he’s gripped himself before he’s spilling his warm spend over your tongue, opaque liquid filling your mouth and spurting over your lips, his strangled groan caught in his throat as he comes.

“That’s right,” he seethes, his hand pressing under your chin to shut your mouth, cheeks squished together as he kneels to your level, eyes following his movements with measured anticipation, “greedy girl. Swallow it.”

At this angle it was painful, blinking rapidly as you swallowed, his hands unrelenting in their pressure until he’s satisfied, letting you go carelessly as you slump forward, bound hands pressing into the floor to catch yourself. His thumb presses against the skin of your cheek and smoothes the mess he’s left there, dragging his spit-slicked fingers over your jaw, a lazy smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Look at this,” he murmurs, voice still rough with lust as he leans closer, “you’re a fuckin’ mess.”

You give him a lazy glare from beneath your lashes, dazed but still sharp enough to form a coherent thought, “You’re such an asshole,” Your voice is hoarse and barely audible through the evident strain of your throat, but you manage to get it out in spite of yourself.

A jab, empty with meaning, but it makes Joel smile.

“Well, I ain’t done with ‘ya,” Joel antagonizing, “think you can just make yourself at home when I’m gone, I think that deserves some punishment,”

The element of surprises is what does you in, a sudden tug forward.

There’s a tightness at your wrists as he finally reaches for the knot binding them together, rough and calloused hands skimming over your skin and sending pinpricks up your arms. The fabric loosens with his handiwork, blood rushing back into numb fingers as he bunches the makeshift binding into his hand and uses his freehand to grip your bicep, tugging you until you’re falling against the floor, gasping at the impact.

Joel seems to hesitate at that, his touch suddenly softer. You can’t see his face, but the reassurance you give him is instant.

“Green, green,” you rush out to ground him back in the present.

It does the trick, it seems.

You’re on your stomach and you can feel the press of denim at the back of your thighs as he corrals you in, arms dragging down to your elbows until he can push them up and around the leg of his bed, watching with wide eyes as he binds your wrists again, though looser, around the wood.

“Can’t have you runnin’ away before I get a taste,” Joel says from behind, hearing the faint ruffle of fabric before his shirt hits the bed, his hands curling around your hips to pull you up, ass propped up for him to feast.

And he does, hands squeezing into your cheeks as he spreads you open, moaning out lewdly as his tongue licks greedily between your folds. He works you open this way, laps of his tongue reaching inside of you as he groans against your wet heat. Your fingers dig into your palm, biting at the flesh as you suppress a shaky cry, feeling the curl of desperation low in your belly and already threatening to unravel.

It’s sickening how easily he can bring you to this point of pliancy, even when you were so eagerly trying to resists, “Please,” you cry, “I can’t—please,”

“Say it,” he encourages once, reminding you that there was always control, but without the indication, he wasn’t going to let up.

You shake your head in defiance, “Fuck you,” you spit.

It doesn’t take long, either. 

Joel chuckles because he knows you well enough to read the rhythm of your breathing, the shallow way your stomach shudders when you’re getting close. You feel every inch of him, skin and warmth and breath until it’s building and—

“Fuck!” A choked off cry as your head falls forward, body vibrating against the wood.

“Oh I know you got more than that in ya,” he taunts from between your thighs, the heat of his words sending another shock through you, more ruffling of fabric before his cock is heavy against the back of your thigh, hands kneading into supple flesh as he rubs the head through your folds before spearing inside of you with one sharp movement, and he sighs, “there she is.”

You let out a weak gasp, your body stretching around the thickness of him, searing heat and pressure making your mind go deliciously blank. You can barely catch your breath; he knocks it out of you with every forceful thrust, drowns you in the sound of skin slapping against skin.

The filthy wet noises that fill the space between gasping moans.

It’s relentless, primal. 

He's everywhere, all at once, until there's nothing left but—

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“You’d let me do damn near anything to ‘ya,” he taunts, “helpless little girl without me, ain’t that right? Go on, tell me to stop.”

You whimper as his hand strikes your ass, demanding an answer.

He practically growls with insatiable hunger, the sound rumbling from his chest as he thrusts into you without restraint, “Speak when you’re spoken, too,” he bites, “open that fuckin’ mouth.”

“No—no," you sob, barely coherent.

“See?” he grunts as his hand slides around you to grip the base of your throat, tilting your head up and holding you against him while his cock hits devastating inside of you, silently undoing the bindings as he pulls you back against his chest, “Knew you could do it.”

It’s too much, the striking, brutal pleasure threatening to suffocate you. 

You feel so immeasurably full of him and still—he’s not letting up.

Joel’s breath is ragged in your ear, sweat-slicked chest against your back. He presses against that spot inside of you with his cock and your vision goes white-hot. The sound that rips out of you is undeniable, pure pleasure.

“Shit,” he curses, “this all you needed? Huh? Me fuckin’ you like I own you?”

His fingers are still around your neck, tightening, and you can only sob in agreement as everything unwinds inside of you. His grip drives you against him, faster, harder, each push a little more desperate as he chases you into the crest of your second orgasm with his fingers drifting over your clit, the touch enough to end you on the spot.

“Gonna make me come again,” he warns roughly, unable to hide the strain in his voice.

Your whole body clenches around him at the promise and he lets out a weak grunt.

“Fuck,” he snarls, “come on, babygirl—do it. Do it for me.”

You’re too far gone to do anything but comply.

The pleasure explodes in your core as his thumb works like magic against you. He feels impossibly deep, and you cry out one last time as everything snaps and sends you over the edge.

Inside of you, Joel lets out a vicious growl as your body milks him for all he has to offer, his hips driving into you with punishing force while he spills hot into your cunt.

Eventually, his pace slows.

His grip on your throat gentles and he pulls out before collapsing next to you, breathless and heaving. He doesn't even bother making it to the bad, arm tucking under his head as you slump against his chest.

“Goddamn,” Joel mutters, the facade fading immediately, heaving through ragged gasps, dragging you into him, “c’mere, baby.”

Your smile is obvious, giddy—Joel can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“I think you enjoyed that a little too much,” Joel tells you, “s’good—we okay?”

“Peachy,” you reply without hesitation, taking note of his insistent touch, much gentler than a few minutes ago, “are you okay?”

“A little worried,” he admits, “didn’t know if I was bein’ too rough with you.”

“I would have told you,” you tell him honestly, pressing a kiss to his stomach from where you rest, before you playfully add, “and if we’re being honest—next time, don’t go so easy on me."

The look Joel gives you is hot—red hot; like a fire.

Joel nods dutifully, beckoning you upwards, “Ain’t nobody gonna touch you but me,” he promises, drawing your face up to his, “and I’m gonna make damn sure you won’t ever want ‘em to.”

As if there was anyone comparable to Joel.

Your soft grin told him all he needed to know.

There wasn’t.

[https-lvesick]

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pay the price [haechan] by @lqfiles

neighbour!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, probably slow burn, humour, neighbours au | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ after getting evicted out of your old place, you're left with no other choice but to look for a cheaper alternative. which is how you end up becoming neighbours with lee haechan, who has a passion for music and disturbing whatever peace and quiet there is.

one night only [haechan] by @mrkified

college-student!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ secret relationship, slight enemies to lovers, college au, angst, fluff, crack/humor, band au | status ・ completed!

summary ・ three years since your falling out with lee donghyuck he has suddenly transfered to your college in hopes to make it big with his friends in his band. unfortunately for you, your unresolved friendship started causing problems between you and the people around you, especially since your best friend is his ex. so — why have you found yourself in his room with a raging hangover?

she's the man [haechan] by @yutarot

gamer!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ humour, friends to lovers, college au, gamer!haechan, gamer!yn, everyone’s a gamer actually, loosely based off the movie ‘she’s the man’, fem reader, slowburn, angst, plot heavy | status ・ completed!

summary ・ after you discover your love for gaming, you soon find out that your college won’t let you in any of their e-sports teams due to your gender. but what happens when your twin brother leaves town just before he’s about to start at a new college, where not even NCU’s e-sports captain, lee haechan knows anything about him? there’s only one problem, your brother’s crazy ex is trying to hunt you down. will they all find out your true identity? and will their views on you change if they discover who you really are?

divine timing [haechan] by @v1si0n

college student!hyuck x fem!reader | genre ・ smau (some written parts), college student! hyuck x fem! reader, ????? to lovers, fluff, probably some angst but not heavy bc i’m sensitive, humor, lowkey she fell first but he fell harder trope, hyuck is a jealous little lad. | status ・ completed!

summary ・ you confessed to your longtime crush, donghyuck, back in high school because you figured you guys would never see each other again. you begin to question your faith in the universe when you run into him on a rainy tuesday night, and you start seeing him every day after.

blooming hearts [haechan] by @jji-lee

flower shop owner!haechan x fem!reader | genre ・ humor , strangers to enemies to lovers, college au, maybe a little angst, fluff, slow burn, haechan and reader are oblivious and stubborn | status ・ completed!

summary ・ a new flower shop has opened up in front of your dorm housing and has been creating problem after problem for you. now you and shop owner, lee haechan have an ongoing feud that neither of you are willing to put to rest. as the weather cools and the flowers wither away maybe something else will begin to bloom between you two…

MARK (nct dream)

down bad! [mark] by @hyuckswoman

college student!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ slowburn?, humour, collegeau, fluff, mutual pining, strangers to lovers | status ・ completed!

summary ・in which a random business major finds herself joining a random music class not knowing the guy she had been fawning over attended it aswell.

got my ion you [mark] by @chenlesfavorite

tutor!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ social media au (smau), half written, friends to lovers, fluff | status ・ completed!

summary ・ you’ve failed yet another chemistry exam, high chances are you’re gonna have to retake the entire class next year and miss out on almost all school breaks due to studying and fixing your bad grades, and that is until your trusty friend suggests a tutor to you.

dream boyfriend: incoming [mark] by @wonbin-truther

college student!mark x college student!fem!reader | genre ・ smau, fake dating to ?? to lovers, slight jaemin x yn, yns cousins are assholes, mark is the ideal son in law, hes also an asshole, kys/kms jokes, mark kinda leads yn on, will add more as i go along | status ・ completed!

summary ・ it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...

when you smile [mark] by @svnnw

fake boyfriend!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ fluff, angst, slowburn, comedy, humor, fake dating, non-idol au, college au | status ・ completed!

summary ・ after barely passing your recent exam you're now desperately looking for someone to tutor you so your friends wouldn't worry about you and your grades.

cryptic crush [mark] by @jji-lee

fuckboy!mark x fem!reader | genre ・ humor, neighbors/enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, slight slow burn, fluff, mark and reader are always at it bro (fighting not fucking LMAO) | status ・ completed!

summary ・ are you looking for something deeper than just superficial romance? of course you are! sm university presents : cryptic crush the only on campus app that is 100% anonymous. sign up now and we'll randomly pair you with someone ready to chat! who knows? they might be the one...

NA JAEMIN (nct dream)

love on the court [jaemin] by @polarisjisung

basketball player!jaemin x basketball player!fem!reader | genre ・ (one sided) enemies to lovers, childhood best friends to lovers, college au, kinda forced proximity | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

CHENLE (nct dream)

night rider [chenle] by @chenlesfavorite

motorcyclist!chenle x fem!reader | genre ・ social media au (smau), written, slowburn, angsty-ish, fluff, strangers to enemies to lovers (except they're not really enemies.. they just can't stand each other) | status ・ completed!

summary ・ working night shifts 24/7 at the convenience store while also supporting your boyfriend’s obsession with watching motorcyclists race is not easy, but little did you know that one of the bikers that he loves soon gets involved with you.

RENJUN (nct dream)

belladonna! [renjun] by @winwintea

actor!renjun x fem!reader | genre ・ social media au (smau), fluff, angst, drama, horror, very dark, detective au, murder mystery au, explicit(?) | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ you've been tasked with visting and inspecting the grand rose theatre, a theatre that's been plagued with mysteries over the years. all seems well, until a string of murders follows your visit. as you further investigate, you find yourself falling for huang renjun, the beautiful male lead, and your mystery murderer who leaves you love notes and clues about who they could potentially be. will you be smart enough to be a step ahead of the killer? or will you find yourself caught within their trap?

JENO (nct dream)

hot to go! [jeno] by @sungiejpg

idol!jeno x stylist!fem!reader | genre ・ idol au, fluff, humour, maybe slow burn | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ being aespa’s stylist is an easy and a lovely job, that’s what yn thought until she met Jeno by mistake. She now finds him scary.

JAEHYUN (nct 127)

roses [jaehyun] by @nneteyamss

college student!jaehyun x fem!reader | genre ・ smau, college au, second chance (?), humor | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ during your freshman year of college you had a situationship with jaehyun. despite both falling for each other, issues got in the way and jaehyun ghosted you. it's been 2 years since and he never got over you and he'd do almost anything to get you again... including writing a song to get your attention.

KARINA (aespa)

it's me before her [karina] by @uchinagai

idol!jimin x actress!fem!reader | genre ・ smau + written , wlw fluff , idol au, y/n is in huge denial, strangers(?) to lovers, idol!karina, actress!y/n, idol!y/n, tiny bit of suggestive | status ・ ongoing!

summary ・ kim y/n, #1 soloist currently, known for other than just acting like out of this world and singing like an angel, is also known in the industry as 'flirt' among female idols. a certain world wide idol, got her attention on her, but little did she know, there was another one, more desperate and in love with her before the global it girl.

notes ・ if you guys have more aespa smau that you guys like it, pls send me! i'd really love more aespa fanfics to read!

[vaguely-concerned]

I understand and agree with a lot of the frustrations about the shortcomings of Inquisition as a story. but sometimes when I hear people complain about the chosen one narrative in it I do want to just be like... you know it's a deconstruction of the concept more than anything, right. the inquisitor isn't actually chosen by anything except stumbling into the wrong (right?) room at the right (wrong?) time because they like, heard a noise or whatever. or if you think they are chosen, as many do in-universe, that's something you have to take on faith, the maker-or-whoever moves in mysterious ways indeed-style. the Inquisitor isn't actually a Destined Chosen One, they're a Just Some Guy in a fancy hat, self-delusions of grandeur to taste as you'd prefer.

a running thread that goes through all of the personal quests of the companions is the concept of a comforting lie vs. an uncomfortable truth, upholding old corrupt structures vs. disrupting them, and the role of faith in navigating that. (blackwall the warden vs. thom rainier the liar and murderer. hissrad vs. the iron bull, or is that the other way around? cassandra and the seekers -- do we tell the truth about what we find, even if it means dismantling the old order of the world? and so on.) and your inquisitor IS at the same time a comforting lie (a necessary one, in dark times? the game seems to ask) and an uncomfortable truth (we are the result of random fickle chance, no protective hand is held over the universe, it's on us to make a better world because the maker sure as hell won't lift a divine finger to help anyone, should he against all odds exist). faith wielded for political power... where's the point that it crosses the line into ugliness? is it before it even begins? what's the alternative? will anyone listen to the truth, if you tell it?

interesting how you also get a mix of companion agency in this -- you have characters like dorian who ALWAYS choose one side of the comforting lie vs. uncomfortable truth dichotomy. he will always make up his own mind to go back to tevinter and try to dismantle the corruption of the old system no matter what you say, or how you try to influence him. meanwhile iron bull is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum -- so psychologically trapped and mangled, caught in an impossible spiritual catch-22, that his sense of identity is left entirely to you and your mercy. you cannot change dorian in any way that matters; you can be his friend or not, support him or not, but he is whole no matter what. you are given incredible and potentially destructive-to-him power over bull's soul. it's really cool (and heartbreaking) to think about.

this is a game about how history will eat you even while you're still alive, and shape you into whatever image it pleases to serve it, and for all your incredible power right now you are powerless in the face of the gravitational force of time -- of more than time, of History. you won't recognize yourself in what History will make of you, because you belong to it now. you don't belong to yourself anymore and you never will again. the further you were from what it needs from you to begin with, the more you will find yourself distorted in its funhouse mirror. (why hello there inquisitor ameridan, same hat!)

and to me this is so much the core of what Dragon Age is about right from the Origins days -- how and by whom history gets written, the inherent unreliable narration of it all. I hope you like stories, Inquisitor. You are one now.

I do think it's probably still the weakest of the games narratively, and it's hampered by its structure and bloated systems. but I also find it disingenous to say that there's nothing deeper or actually interesting going on with it, thematically. if you're willing to engage with it there is Some Real Shit going on under the high fantasy-tinted surface.

[shepherds-of-haven]

The End of an Era, and the Road Ahead

Hi everybody, the recent news about Dashingdon shutting down feels like it's a bittersweet turning point for many in the ChoiceScript community. Before Don stepped up and took things into his own hands, volunteering his own money, manpower, and time to create and maintain the site, there was no good way for people to host ChoiceScript demos and games in one place: I think the previous solution had been different Dropbox links (which was eventually nuked by security changes in how they hosted files) and possibly separate Neocities sites? Without the Dashingdon site, none of us would have had such an incredible space to gather, share and explore and experience games together, or--for some--even feel motivated to write a ChoiceScript game in the first place, not without an easy and intuitive way of sharing it with others in a playable format. The Dashingdon site significantly lowered the barrier of entry for anyone wanting to make or play or share games; more than that, it was a place of memories, creativity, and connection, and I fully believe that it served as a vital backbone of the ChoiceScript community for many years. A lot of that community relies on the efforts of volunteers--including the creator of CSIDE and the moderators on the forums--and, as with them, I can only thank Don wholeheartedly for his generosity and his 10 years of tireless, selfless, and often thankless work. The fact that a lot of people didn't even know he was a volunteer shows his altruism!

However, all of that work could have only fallen on the shoulders of one person for so long. It's a sad loss to see, though, and I'm very sorry to everyone mourning the loss of the community space, old or inactive WIPs, and save files that will be lost when Dashingdon goes dark at the end of the month. I do wish that there could be an official, stable, company-supported place for authors to host their games in one place, but at least there are alternatives for people to migrate to! (Thank you too to @hpowellsmith and everyone in the community who's taken it upon themselves to spread the news and try to make this transition as smooth as possible for everyone surprised by this announcement. And thank you to the volunteer who's taken up the banner at cogdemos.ink!) I don't know if cogdemos.ink has a page set up to help defray costs, but Dashingdon himself has a ko-fi if you want to leave a tip or thanks for his years of service to the community!

To that end, I want to reassure you all that Shepherds of Haven is safe and isn't going anywhere, and that this change won't affect the game's future. The news has, however, sped up my announcement of something I've been working on for a long time: transitioning away from ChoiceScript and moving Shepherds of Haven to Twine.

Granted, this wasn't how I originally planned on sharing this news. Patrons have known about this move since I decided on it, but I'm a dogged perfectionist, possibly to a fault. I wanted everything to be absolutely polished before unveiling the Twine build, but this unexpected news has been the nudge I needed to take the leap sooner. It's always been my habit to polish my work to an extreme degree: I will rewrite entire novels five, seven, however many times it takes before I send it to my agent or editor... or even before I show it to my own fiance! I still haven't let him read Shepherds, or the novel that I've been talking to him about since 2019, because it "isn't ready" yet, not in my own mind. A common refrain I've always heard from career associates is that my work is "unusually impeccable" by the time it hits their desk. When I do share something, it's usually done. But if I'm learning anything as I grow as a writer, it's that progress matters over perfection. The sudden closure of Dashingdon has made me realize that no one moment will ever feel perfect--and that’s okay. I have to accept that things will never be as perfect as I want to make them before I let them out into the world. Instead of holding myself to an impossible standard, I’m embracing this opportunity to push forward and bring you something I'm truly proud of. (However nerve-wracking that may be!) So, instead of reuploading the ChoiceScript demo somewhere else, only to take it down again later, my efforts are going to shift entirely to getting the Twine version ready for release. It’s a huge task, but it ensures I’ll have complete control over Shepherds of Haven and its future. If I drop everything and focus entirely on this for the next several weeks, my best estimate is that it will take 3-5 weeks of full-time work to make that final push and finally get everything caught up and ready.

Why Twine? There were a lot of reasons behind my decision to move. The biggest of all was that, as the game's wordcount grew, so too did my creative vision for it, and I found myself longing for a version of ShoH that could be just as visually rich and mechanically engaging as I was imagining. Codex entries, interactive maps, infinite saves that can be downloaded directly to your device! Moving to Twine removes the limitations of ChoiceScript's simpler engine, and allows me to honor the game's creative potential and deliver on it in a way that feels true to the journey we've shared so far. It's also a platform that offers greater flexibility and independence for both me and the game: I've put so much work into this project that I'd prefer for its success to rest more in my hands, even if that means taking on the monumental task of publishing it myself, rather than anyone else's.

So. Both the public demo and the alpha build will be released in Twine as soon as I can make that happen. The majority of the work's already done--I just need to get the alpha build caught up with some lingering day off interludes and Chapters 8.5 and 9, and I need to address a queue of lingering quality-of-life questions and tweaks. I want to also note that, while there are very exciting additions to unveil, everything foundational to ShoH remains exactly the same. The story, text, and original functions have been ported in their entirety to Twine, outside of basic edits and refinements that would have happened in the normal course of revision, anyway. I have even taken pains to implement a visual "classic" setting that will replicate the font, colors, and general simplified look of the original version, if players want to use that instead. :) But otherwise, this thing is stuffed to the gills with awesome new features. Custom music soundtrack! Clickable maps! Actual trading card collectibles! Stunning new art! Revamped codex and store and inventory systems! Helpful tutorials and autosave points! Important quality of life improvements, like being able to select pronouns separately from gender and change them any time! This doesn't even touch the surface of it, but needless to say, I think we're going to have a lot of fun. Thank you all for your patience, encouragement, and support so far, and please give me some time to get my ducks in a row. A new version of Shepherds of Haven will be ready for you to play soon!

[favefandomimagines]

Now That We Don’t Talk (j.b)

Summary: now that we don’t talk…

AN: this is a long one boys and girls and nonbinary friends

Alternate Ending

The cameras loved them.

They were the kind of couple that seemed plucked straight out of a Hollywood script—Joe Burrow, the golden boy of the NFL, and Y/N, a star who shined just as brightly in her own field. Every magazine, every sports network, every gossip blog had something to say about them. America’s sweethearts, they were called. The kind of couple that made headlines for simply existing.

But what the world saw—the perfectly timed red carpet appearances, the viral social media moments, the dazzling courtside dates—was only a fraction of what their relationship really was.

It all started at a charity gala in Los Angeles.

Joe wasn’t the type to be impressed by fame. He wasn’t the guy who got starstruck, wasn’t the one to fawn over celebrities just because they were on the big screen. Football was his life—his focus. His teammates had to practically drag him to the event, insisting that it would be good PR.

Y/N, on the other hand, had been born for nights like this.

She thrived in the glitz and glam, the cameras, the flashing lights. It wasn’t that she was shallow—far from it. But she understood the game. She knew how to command a room, how to make people laugh, how to charm even the most cynical of hearts.

And that included Joe Burrow.

She noticed him before he noticed her. He was leaning against the bar, dressed in a sleek black tux, perfectly put together but somehow completely unaware of just how good he looked. His jaw was sharp, his lips pressed into a small, amused smirk as he listened to one of his teammates ramble about something.

Y/N was intrigued.

Not because he was Joe Burrow, the star quarterback. But because he was the only person in the room who didn’t seem desperate to be seen.

So, naturally, she made it her mission to change that.

"You're either really mysterious or really bored," she said as she slid up next to him at the bar, her voice laced with playful curiosity.

Joe turned his head, startled for a split second, before a small smirk tugged at his lips. He knew who she was, of course. It was impossible not to. She was everywhere—movies, music, magazine covers. She was the kind of famous that made people feel like they knew her, even if they didn’t.

"I'm neither," he said smoothly, taking a sip of his drink. "But that was an interesting introduction."

Y/N grinned, twirling the straw in her cocktail. "Well, you looked like you needed rescuing."

"From what?"

"From the serious case of ‘I don't belong here’ that’s written all over your face."

Joe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You caught me."

It was easy after that.

Too easy.

They talked like they had known each other forever, like they had been waiting for this moment. It didn’t matter that their worlds were different—his ruled by playbooks and stadium lights, hers by movie scripts and flashing cameras. For that night, none of it mattered.

By the time the gala was over, Joe had Y/N’s number saved in his phone under a simple “Trouble”—a joke, but also a warning to himself. Because something about her felt dangerous in the best way.

||

From that night on, they were inseparable.

At first, they tried to be discreet. It wasn’t about hiding—it was about protecting something before the world could ruin it. They wanted to figure out what they were before the headlines did.

But it didn’t take long for the world to catch on.

The first time they were seen together was at a Bengals game in Cincinnati. Y/N had shown up in the stands, wearing his jersey, sitting beside his mom, cheering like she had been a fan forever. The cameras caught her—how could they not? The biggest pop star in the world was at an NFL game, losing her mind every time Joe completed a pass.

The internet went into a frenzy.

That night, Joe texted her: You made my mom’s entire year, you know that?

Y/N: Good. She’s my favorite Burrow.

It was effortless between them.

Joe loved how she made him laugh, how she pushed him out of his comfort zone without ever making him feel like he had to change. Y/N loved how steady he was, how he never let the fame get to his head, how he made her feel safe in a way she never had before.

They traveled the world together. Italy in the summer, where they drank wine on balconies and got caught by paparazzi on a yacht. The south of France in the offseason, where Joe learned (very poorly) how to dance on a rooftop with her.

And through it all, they loved each other fiercely.

||

There were things the cameras never saw.

Like the time Joe showed up at one of her concerts in disguise.

He wasn’t one for big public displays, but he wanted to see her perform without the pressure of being Joe Burrow in the front row. So he threw on a hoodie, a baseball cap, and sunglasses, and stood in the VIP section like a regular fan.

Y/N spotted him from the stage instantly.

The next morning, there was a viral video of her grinning mid-song and blowing a kiss toward the crowd. The internet went wild trying to figure out who she had been looking at.

Joe texted her after: That was for me, right?

Y/N: Nope. Definitely the guy next to you in the Bengals hat.

Joe: Liar.

Or the time she surprised him after a game, waiting in the locker room tunnel when he least expected it.

He had played a rough game—bruises forming beneath his jersey, exhaustion heavy in his bones. But then he saw her standing there, arms wide open, eyes shining with something softer than the spotlight.

“You did amazing,” she whispered against his shoulder.

And just like that, the rest of the world faded away.

||

For a while, it was perfect.

But even the most golden of couples have their breaking points.

As Joe’s season intensified, Y/N’s career soared higher than ever. There was always something—a game he had to focus on, a movie she had to fly out for. Their time together shrank, their conversations turned into quick check-ins rather than deep talks.

The missed calls, the exhaustion, the unspoken hurt—it started building.

There were nights Y/N fell asleep alone, staring at the empty space beside her, wondering if this was what love was supposed to feel like.

There were nights Joe sat in his locker, scrolling through social media, seeing Y/N at events he should have been at but couldn't because football always came first.

They were still in love.

But love wasn’t enough.

And for the first time, they both started to wonder—

What happens when you realize the person you love the most... is the one you’re slowly losing?

||

At first, the differences between them were exciting.

Joe was all about structure—early mornings, strict schedules, a life ruled by game plans and discipline. Y/N was the opposite. She thrived in the unpredictability of her world. Late-night studio sessions, spontaneous flights to Paris, impromptu performances under neon lights.

They were yin and yang.

And for a while, it worked.

Joe loved how she brought color into his life, how she could make even the most ordinary moments feel cinematic. Y/N loved how grounded he was, how he kept her sane in the madness of fame.

But what once felt like balance slowly became friction.

It started small—missed phone calls, text messages left on read, a growing list of "Sorry, I can't make it" and "Wish you were here."

They promised it would be temporary.

"We just have to get through the season."

"We just have to get through filming."

"We’ll make time soon, I swear."

But time never came.

Y/N’s career was exploding—new projects, new opportunities, a world waiting for her. She was everywhere. Award shows, red carpets, magazine covers. When Joe turned on the TV, she was smiling in interviews, dazzling the world like only she could.

But she was never with him.

And he was never with her.

||

The first time it really hurt was the premiere of her new movie.

It was supposed to be a huge night—her first leading role, a moment she had worked for since she was a teenager.

Joe had promised he would be there.

But the night before, his coach called an emergency meeting. A must-win game was coming up, and the team needed to focus.

Y/N, I’m so sorry. I have to stay for practice.

Yeah. I figured.

Soon, I promise.

But soon never happened.

That night, she walked the red carpet alone. Smiled for the cameras. Gave interviews. Pretended she wasn’t aching inside.

And when she got back to her hotel, she turned on her phone to see Joe’s Instagram story—

A picture of him at the Bengals facility, throwing passes under the stadium lights.

She stared at it for a long time.

Then she put her phone face down and went to sleep.

||

The next big fight came after one of Joe’s biggest games.

It was an away game against Kansas City, a prime-time Sunday Night Football matchup. The kind of game that everyone was watching. Joe had played phenomenally—four touchdowns, a game-winning drive in the fourth quarter. The kind of performance that cements a quarterback’s legacy.

Y/N wasn’t there.

She wanted to be. She had planned to be. But a last-minute industry event pulled her away.

Joe called her after the game, still buzzing with adrenaline.

“I saw the highlights!” she said, her voice bright but distant. “You were incredible.”

He exhaled. He wanted her there.

“It would’ve been nice to see you in the stands.”

Y/N bit her lip. “I know. I tried, Joe, I really did. But—”

“There’s always a ‘but.’”

Silence.

The kind of silence that held too much weight, too much unsaid emotion.

Y/N sighed. “What do you want me to say? You miss things too, you know.”

“I know,” Joe said quietly. “And I hate it.”

The next day, there were headlines: Joe Burrow celebrates huge win, girlfriend nowhere to be found.

She tried not to let it sting.

She tried not to notice that he didn’t text her goodnight.

||

It was after an argument—one of those quiet, devastating fights that lingered even after the words stopped.

Y/N had left for an event, and Joe had stayed home.

He sat on the couch, flipping through channels, half-watching some meaningless TV show, when his phone buzzed.

A text from a teammate.

"Damn, your girl is everywhere tonight."

Joe frowned, opening Twitter.

And there she was.

Standing next to some famous actor, both of them smiling under the bright lights. Her hand rested on his arm. It was nothing. But at the wrong angle, the wrong moment, it looked like everything.

The next morning, when she came home, she found him sitting at the kitchen counter, staring at his coffee like it held all the answers.

He didn’t look up when he spoke.

“Are you happy?”

Y/N stilled, setting her purse down. “What?”

Joe exhaled, finally meeting her gaze.

“Are you happy?” he repeated. “With me. With...this.”

Her stomach twisted.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A real one.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Because the truth was—she didn’t know.

And Joe? He could see it in her eyes.

Neither of them wanted to say it out loud, but in that moment, they both knew—

The love was still there.

But the timing? The world they lived in?

That night, Y/N climbed into bed beside him, curling into his warmth like she always did.

Joe wrapped an arm around her out of instinct, but something had shifted.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them said, "We'll fix this."

Because for the first time, they weren’t sure if they could.

They just laid there in the dark, both pretending they didn’t feel the weight of what was coming next.

And for the first time in their relationship, the silence wasn’t comfortable.

It was the sound of something breaking.

||

It happened in the offseason.

They had both known it was coming for weeks, maybe even months. The missed calls. The late replies. The exhaustion in their voices when they did talk. Everything that once felt effortless had turned into something they had to work for. And while love was always worth fighting for, neither of them could deny that they were fighting more than they were loving.

But even with all the signs, knowing doesn’t make it easier.

It was supposed to be a night to fix things. Joe had just come back from a much-needed vacation, and Y/N had cleared her schedule for the weekend. They agreed on dinner at a quiet restaurant, away from the flashing lights, away from the outside world.

But from the moment they sat down, the air felt different.

Joe tapped his fingers on the table, his mind somewhere else. Y/N stirred her drink absentmindedly, barely touching her food.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.

This wasn’t them.

Y/N sighed, placing her fork down. “Joe…”

He looked up, his blue eyes tired in a way they never used to be.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she whispered.

His jaw tensed, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. He had known this was coming. He had felt it deep in his bones for weeks, but that didn’t mean he was ready to hear it.

“We’re just… not the same anymore,” she continued, her voice careful. “I feel like we’re always missing each other, even when we’re in the same room.”

Joe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She didn’t want to give up. She wanted to hold onto him, to tell him that they could fix this if they just tried a little harder. But how long could you keep holding onto something that was already slipping through your fingers?

“I don’t want to walk away,” she admitted, tears burning behind her eyes. “But Joe… when was the last time we were really happy?”

Joe swallowed hard, looking away. That question shouldn’t have been so hard to answer.

Y/N reached for his hand across the table, squeezing it gently. The way she always had. But this time, he didn’t squeeze back.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His eyes flickered to hers, something raw and unspoken flashing behind them. He loved her, too. He always would. But love wasn’t enough.

He let out a long breath, nodding slowly.

“I love you, too,” he said. And just like that, it was over.

They didn’t make a scene.

They left the restaurant separately—Joe through the side door, Y/N through the front. The paparazzi were waiting, cameras flashing as they shouted questions she didn’t have the energy to answer.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Joe.

She swallowed, pulling it out to see the text.

Get home safe.

She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry.

Y/N: You too.

She wanted to say more.

Wanted to tell him that she didn’t regret a second of it. That she would always root for him. That he would always be her favorite story, even if they didn’t get a happy ending.

But instead, she tucked her phone away and got into the car, leaving behind the only person who ever made her feel like home.

Joe didn’t go straight home.

He drove around the city for hours, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

His phone buzzed again. A text from Ja’Marr..

“You good?”

He stared at it for a long time before finally typing back:

“No.”

That night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Every part of him ached—but not in the way it did after a brutal game. This was different. This was the kind of pain that sat in your chest and refused to leave.

For the first time in his life, he had lost something he couldn’t win back.

Y/N didn’t sleep that night.

She sat on her couch in a hoodie that still smelled like Joe, knees pulled to her chest, phone clutched in her hand.

She kept expecting a call. A text. Something.

But it never came.

And she didn’t reach out either.

Because deep down, they both knew—there was nothing left to say.

The worst part wasn’t the breakup itself.

It was everything that came after.

It was waking up and realizing there were no more good morning texts waiting on her phone. It was scrolling through Instagram and seeing a picture of Joe at practice, looking focused, looking fine—like she hadn’t just walked away from him.

It was reaching for her phone after a bad day, only to remember that he wasn’t hers to call anymore.

For Joe, it was even worse.

Football had always been his escape. The one thing that never let him down. But even in the middle of practice, between drills and film sessions, his mind would drift to her.

He’d hear a song playing in the locker room—one of hers—and his stomach would tighten.

He’d catch himself reaching for his phone, tempted to text her, only to stop at the last second.

He’d drive past a place they used to go, and suddenly, it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Love doesn’t just disappear overnight.

It lingers.

It haunts you.

And no matter how much they tried to move on, there were still nights when they both lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if they had made the biggest mistake of their lives.

But they never reached out.

Because they both knew—

It would hurt too much to talk.

||

Joe didn’t think about her.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Training camp started, and he threw himself into football harder than ever. Early mornings, late nights, extra drills—anything to keep his mind busy. The media praised his focus. Locked in. Unshakable. Ready for the season of his life.

What they didn’t see was the way his thumb hovered over her contact some nights.

Or how he still wore the bracelet she gave him—a simple leather band, hidden beneath his wrist tape.

Or how, when the team played in Los Angeles, he caught himself looking for her in the crowd, even though he knew she wouldn’t be there.

Y/N, on the other hand, convinced herself she was free.

She threw herself into work, into new projects. New music, new opportunities, new people. She let herself be photographed at industry events, wearing the kind of radiant, effortless smiles that made it look like she had never been in love with Joe Burrow.

But behind closed doors?

She still hesitated before playing his highlights when ESPN aired them.

She still wore his oversized hoodie when she was home alone.

And sometimes, when the world was quiet, she’d catch herself thinking about calling him. Just to hear his voice. Just to see if he was okay.

But they didn’t talk.

Not when she was nominated for a Golden Globe.

Not when Joe led the Bengals to another playoff win.

Not when they were in the same city, just blocks apart, but worlds away.

It happened at a charity gala in New York.

Y/N hadn’t planned on going, but her team convinced her. A good PR move. A chance to show the world she had moved on.

She had spent the night mingling, smiling, doing what she did best—commanding the room.

And then, she felt it. A shift in the air. Like someone was watching her.

She turned her head, and there he was.

Joe Burrow, across the room, standing near the bar, his hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey.

Her breath caught in her throat. He looked… different. The same, but different.

The suit was sharp, the same cool, composed expression on his face. But there was something in his eyes—something softer.

For a moment, it was like time folded in on itself.

Every late-night conversation. Every whispered “I love you.” Every fight, every apology, every moment that had made them them.

Joe’s grip on his glass tightened.

Their eyes met, held. And then—just like that—he looked away.

He turned, said something to the person beside him, took a sip of his drink.

Like she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt something crack inside her chest.

She knew this was how it was supposed to be.

They weren’t together anymore.

They didn’t owe each other anything.

But wasn’t it strange?

That after everything, they were just two people in the same room, pretending they had never been anything more?

She didn’t look at him again for the rest of the night.

And when she got home, she locked herself in her hotel bathroom and cried for the first time in months.

The headlines started soon after.

Joe Burrow Spotted in NYC, No Y/N in Sight—Are They Finally Moving On?

Y/N Looking Radiant at Charity Event Amidst Split From Joe Burrow.

Has Joe Found a New Leading Lady? NFL Star Seen with Mystery Woman.

Y/N didn’t click on the articles.

She didn’t let herself wonder if Joe had really moved on.

She focused on her work.

She poured herself into writing new music.

And for the first time in months, she felt something close to herself again.

Until one night, when she found herself sitting at her piano, fingers hovering over the keys, a melody forming before she even realized what it was.

The words spilled out before she could stop them.

“…Did you get anxious though, On the way home?, I guess I'll never, ever know, Now that we don't talk.”

“You grew your hair long, you got new icons… and from the outside, it looks like you’re trying lives on.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to cry.

Even when they weren’t speaking, Joe was still in everything.

Joe saw the song before he heard it.

He was sitting in the Bengals’ film room, scrolling through his phone during a break when he saw the trending topic.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With New Song: Is It About Joe Burrow?

His stomach tightened.

He should have ignored it.

But instead, he put his AirPods in and hit play.

The first notes hit, soft and aching, and suddenly, he wasn’t in the locker room anymore.

He was back in the car with her, driving down the coast with the windows down.

He was in their hotel room in Italy, tracing circles on her skin while she hummed the melody to a song she hadn’t written yet.

He was on the phone with her at 2 AM, whispering ‘I love you’ before hanging up.

And then he heard the lyrics.

You grew your hair long.

You got new icons.

And from the outside, it looks like you’re trying lives on.

Joe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face.

It was about him.

It was always about him.

And wasn’t that the cruelest part?

That even after all this time, after all the nights they had spent apart, after all the silence—

They were still haunting each other.

||

Joe hadn’t been looking for it.

He had just finished practice, his body sore, his mind exhausted. The locker room was buzzing with post-practice energy—teammates joking around, music blasting from someone’s speaker. He pulled his phone out, scrolling through notifications absentmindedly, until—

There it was.

A headline from E! News, pushed to his phone by an algorithm that clearly didn’t give a damn about how much he didn’t want to see this.

"Y/N Goes Public with New Romance: A Red Carpet Debut with Superman Star David Corenswet!"

Joe froze, his thumb hovering over the screen.

He shouldn’t open it.

He should swipe it away, pretend he never saw it.

But his hands had a mind of their own.

The article loaded, the first thing he saw was a photo.

A picture of her.

Y/N, sitting in the back of a sleek black car, wearing a stunning gown that looked like it had been made just for her. Her hair was styled perfectly, her makeup soft but radiant. She looked beautiful. Effortless. Happy.

And beside her—him.

David Corenswet. The new Superman. A literal superhero.

He was leaned in close, whispering something in Y/N’s ear. And Y/N?

She was smiling.

Not just any smile. That smile. The kind Joe hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. The kind that lit up a room. The kind that used to be reserved for him.

Joe’s grip on his phone tightened.

A sharp pang shot through his chest, something bitter settling in the back of his throat.

Y/N and the actor had revealed their relationship on the red carpet of her new movie.

A premiere. Something Joe had never gotten to do with her.

Because of football.

Because he was always too busy.

Because he never made the time.

And now? This man was there. Supporting her. Walking beside her with his hand on her waist, proudly standing by her side, looking at her like she was the most important thing in the world.

Like she deserved. Joe never gave her that.

He had been too caught up in his world, too focused on his career, always thinking there would be time later.

But later never came.

Because he had lost her.

And now, she had moved on. She had forgotten him.

Joe felt something tighten in his chest, a slow, suffocating kind of realization creeping in.

She’s happy without me.

The words echoed in his head, loud and unforgiving.

The article went on about how they had been spotted together for weeks, how David had been at the premiere, supporting Y/N like a real partner should. It even mentioned how the two of them looked completely in love.

Joe couldn’t read anymore.

He turned his phone over, resting his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the floor of the locker room.

Around him, the noise of his teammates laughing, talking, living their lives carried on. Like nothing had just shattered inside of him.

“Yo, Burrow, you good?”

Joe blinked up at Ja’Marr, who was standing in front of him, helmet in hand, brows raised.

Joe forced a shrug, masking it. Because what was he supposed to say?

"No, actually. My ex, the love of my life, just soft-launched her new relationship with Superman, and I think I might be having a breakdown."

So instead, he exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Ja’Marr smirked. “Man, get some sleep. You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Joe let out a humorless chuckle.

Ghosts were easier to deal with. This?

This was watching the person he once thought he’d spend forever with, moving on as if he never existed.

And the worst part? She deserved it.

She deserved someone who would show up for her. Someone who wouldn’t make excuses. Someone who could love her out loud, the way he never could.

Still, the realization left a sour taste in his mouth.

Because no matter how much she had moved on—Joe hadn’t.

And now? He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

[llamagirl28]

Hello folks! I'm back with good news!

First off, let me get the development update out of the way. These past months writing has been difficult due to health issues regarding my hands, but I've still managed to get some work done and make progress on the demo. The updates have been Patreon/Kofi exclusive so far (since they have early access perks) and I've been waiting for content to build up for a public release. Now, I finally bring you something to sink your teeth in!

I also wanted to let you know that I've read the feedback you left me and I've taken it all into consideration. I have made plans for changes, some major, some minor, but I've yet to implement them. Here's a list of the future changes:

I've received feedback that chapter 4 feels slow, overly-descriptive and filled with scenes of tasks and chores; looking back on it, I do admit I've gone overboard with these things. I'll be cutting down on superfluous bits, altogether removing some scenes or changing them into something more interesting and relevant.

Also regarding chapter 4, as well as 5: I've...info-dumped quite a lot, and it slows the pace. I'll be going over the game and try to spread out information better, or withhold it till later.

Guinevere will be introduced earlier, in chapter 3. Really excited about this change :)

Instead of having one main trait for Mordred's dragon friend to choose from in chapter 2, the option will be between four archtypes. These will allow me to better flesh out the character (I've found the current system restrictive and one-note). I'll elaborate more on these new choices when they're added (which I've started to work on) but know that they incorporate the existent personality traits. This change will also come with not just edited, but entirely new scenes featuring the draconic companion.

Adding an alternative route to showing Elaine around in chapter 5, so Mordreds not interested in her can still do something fun

Alright, now let's talk demo update!

What's new?

More of chapter 5 (it's a big one)

Greet the wedding guests. Reunite with Nimue and catch up, meet Merlin for the first time

Talk to, insult, or ignore Galahad

Get on the dancefloor! (with a RO or friend of choice!)

Edits made: some bits of Nimue's conversation in chapter 1 have been reworked and a new dialogue option has been added, a couple of edits done to Morgana's first POV in chapter 3

Demo link:

[bnpd]

Golden Boy ! ᡣ𐭩

"so this is gojo satoru."

you first heard of gojo when you were a freshman in high school, you first saw gojo when you were a junior, you first talked to him when you were a senior, and then you disliked him. but he first loved you when he first met you.

basketball player!gojo x photography/journalist!reader DRABBLE WORD COUNT: 3K

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST : ᡣ𐭩 NAVIGATION : ꩜

NOTE: basketball gojo is rotting my brain btw! so here’s another AU of them, enjoy. not a fic, more of a really really long drabble. posting this while you guys wait for long shot part 3! okay sorry too much yap! not proof read sorry chat

high school: 2007

you grew up with a fascination for cameras–photography as a whole–, and the idea of perfectly capturing the moment.

when you first started high school you would bring your camera and a journal everywhere. it was a small camera your parents bought to allow you to explore your life-long interest. 

you were very much kept to yourself. if you didn’t have to talk to anyone, you didn’t choose to. you liked being alone, and there’s nothing depressing about that. you only had one friend, and her name was utahime. 

you were a geek! not in a bad way, but in a way where you had a passion for books, writing, games, photography, you name it.

if anyone asked about you, no one would know how to answer. no one really knew much about you. with that in mind, you were still approachable, and kind.

if anyone engaged in conversation with you, you didn’t shy away—you politely engaged back. 

now, things stayed like that for the entirety of freshman to spring semester of sophomore year because one day your graphics and design teacher, mr. mendez, caught you taking pictures of inanimate objects, offering you a position on the yearbook team.

your high school was huge, and names weren’t frequently known, especially not yours. but those rules didn’t apply to athletes. especially the golden boy—gojo satoru. 

gojo satoru was a well-known name—gojo, itself, was a well-known name—his family came from money and they funded the entire school. you never actually met, or saw him, considering your schedules were completely different. but, in your junior year that changed. when your teacher asks you to go to a basketball game to cover the athlete section since the boy who was initially covering it got sick. 

you’re frowning to yourself the entire day just thinking about having to stay after school to watch the game.

the time comes and you’re sitting at the back of the stands, holding onto your camera, waiting for the game to start. it’s a packed game. that doesn’t surprise you. what does surprise you, is how crazy everyone is going over a mere game of basketball before it even starts. 

you almost jolt out of your seat when you feel someone tap your shoulder, and turn to see someone sweetly smiling at you. a boy. “I think mr. mendez is trying to get your attention,” he extends his finger, pointing, and you follow the direction of it. and, indeed, your teacher was trying to get your attention. 

you sweetly mutter a quick ‘thank you’, to the boy before collecting your things, and walking towards mr. mendez. 

“so, i figured you’re new to this, but when you take pictures during sports events, you’re usually pretty close to the court, standing,” he motions to the court with his hands, and you give him a confused look even though you understood exactly what he was saying, in hopes of a different alternative. unfortunately he does not give you one.

so, now you’re standing next to the court. camera, in hand, when the lights dim down just a tiny bit and cheerleaders emerge from the sides to begin their routine.

you take this as your opportunity to snap a few pictures. you capture a picture of the captain smiling, a few others of flyers mid-air, and some of the perfect routine moments.

after they finish, you find an empty seat at the very front. you think of all the things that you could’ve been doing at the moment. like reading on your porch swing, watching the sun set. 

then the coach blows the whistle and finally the game is about to begin. the faster this goes, the faster you’ll be home, snuggled up in bed with your dog keeping your feet warm. 

you stand to take pictures, and watch as the players emerge from the locker room, one after the other, jogging down to their designated seating area. but you don’t have a particular reaction, until you see another figure emerge, and you’re a bit struck at how handsome he is. gorgeous, even. 

‘so, this is gojo satoru.’

he’s smiling, and you just know he thinks he’s hot shit with the way he jogs over to the rest of his teammates. ‘we’ll see about that’ you thought to yourself. 

and see you did. 

he was incredible on the court—professional level good—.

you took a great number of pictures, ones where he’s doing some kind of handshake with another star player, geto suguru, another set of pictures of other players, some of gojo by himself, but your favorite one, by far, had to be the one after he shoots the final shot, and almost as if he sensed the camera, looked your way, and smiled. a cute boyish smile. you looked at your camera in shock and disbelief.

you felt your face heat up by a billion degrees.

it was the most perfect picture you ever captured. and you don’t even think he noticed because he runs back to his teammates, as if nothing had happened. 

you went home that night in a bit of a daze. a new crush had developed. a very tiny, atom sized crush, but a crush nonetheless. 

the next day mr. mendez asked for the pictures you took at the basketball game, yet you found yourself not uploading the picture of gojo smiling directly at the camera to the USB drive. it felt wrong. 

so you kept it to yourself. 

you still didn’t see him much after that. he was like an enigma to you. everyone knew so much of him.

senior year rolls around and you’re now the head of the yearbook team. you’re applying to colleges/unis, and you’re really shooting high for this specific ivy league university because of the amazing combined photography–journalism program they offered, praying that they give you the full-ride you applied for. 

you’re sitting in the graphic and design room one day, editing some final touches of the yearbook, when mr. mendez calls your name, “we have a yearbook interview for the time capsule and photoshoot for the basketball team today, and i need you to be there to direct both, is that okay?” 

you nod and reply with a simple, “sure”. 

in reality your heart is pounding because you know you’ll have to see gojo again, and actually talk to him. 

it’s finally after school, and you’re setting up the equipment for, not only, the photos, but the interviews as well. 

you hear the ruffling of the setup behind you while you try to position the camera for the interviews at the right angle, you let out a small frustrated groan “mahito stop fucking around and help me–”

“mahito?” the voice asks you and you feel yourself still because that voice is not mahitos’s. you get up from your position, and you almost die in your spot when you see gojo standing there with an unreadable look on his face. 

an unreadable look that studies you.

“oh, im sorry i thought-”, he cuts you off before you can finish.

“hm,” he lets out in a rude manner and you almost reel back at how condescending he looked. (canon high school gojo i fear).

 ‘this can’t be the same guy that I had a crush on last year’

but it was. 

the worst part is, the entire time you took the team’s photos, he wasn’t outwardly mean. but he had an energy to him that put you off. one that told you he thought he was better than you. his mannerisms screamed arrogance, and carelessness.

you kept to yourself for the majority of the photoshoot, muttering occasional instructions. 

the rest of the team were really nice. they’d strike up a conversation, here and there. you, of course, responded politely and engaged in conversation, returning their enthusiasm. but the entire time you felt piercing blue eyes. 

you’d catch him whispering to geto, and even though you knew they weren’t talking about you, it left you paranoid. 

for the interviews, you kept it polite. until you got to gojo. you hit the record button on the camera, asked him the question, and listened to him as he talked about how great and amazing he was. you found yourself drifting off. 

‘there’s no way this guy is that full of himself.’

he was. 

you wrap up the interviews and go home. a bit caught off guard by his behavior. it wasn't that he was mean, but why would you willingly be in the presence of someone like this? and from that point on, you disliked gojo satoru.

college: 2013

in the end, you got accepted into the ivy league you had hoped for, got a full ride, and were accepted into the photography and journalist program. you looked completely different than how you did in college (you were grateful for this). things couldn’t get any better, but they could get worse. 

you found out you actually went to the same university as gojo. you didn’t realize it until you saw his huge basketball banner in the gymnasium one day. you’re not paranoid of bumping into him here. if you didn’t bump into him in high school, you definitely won’t here. 

but perhaps a party. 

let’s say, one of your friends invited you, and gojo definitely notices you because he finds you somehow familiar and attractive. still, he hasn’t recognized you because you’re not angled in a manner that he can see you.

so he goes to talk to you, and let’s say you don’t take it lightly. you're not rude or anything, but you reject him, and he’s shocked. 

you stare at him before walking away, leaving him standing there in bewilderment. 

he watches you leave, and it takes him a while as he’s standing there but it clicks. he can’t be upset that you just rejected him in front of people, nor can he be upset that you walked away from him. he’s just honestly elated to find you here. 

the only thought in his head is that you’re here and he finally has a chance again after realizing his attempt in high school was not it. he didn’t know you in high school, nor did he know you now, but he thought you were the most interesting person back then. and it looks to him that you still are. 

now’s his chance, and he’d be damned if he passed it up. 

so he kind of finds out where you work part-time, and goes to the campus diner around the corner (where you work). it’s a late evening, and the only customers around were the old couple who visited every friday, the frequent patrons (who were college students), were all at a party that’d been advertised all week. 

it was only you, the couple, and now gojo. 

you don’t look up when you hear the door bells jingle, only gently shouting a “welcome!”, while you’re too busy wiping down the milkshake bottle. 

gojo is a bit nervous, but he pushed forward. 

he sits on the barstool by the counter you're now wiping down, sensing a presence you look up are surprised to find gojo, “hi,” gojo starts, you narrow your eyes at him a little. 

“hello,” you reply back, “what can i get for you?” you ask him before reaching under the counter to grab a menu, placing it in front of him. he doesn’t touch the menu, nor look at it, he stares into you as he says, “i’d like to start off with the sweetest milkshake you have.” 

since that night at the diner he would often show up on fridays, sit on the same stool, and order the same thing. if he didn’t order the same thing, he’d ask you for any recommendations. whatever you told him to get, he’d get it and completely finish it. 

gradually you began to warm up to him. it blossomed into a sweet genuine friendship. after that checkpoint, he would wait for you to finish your shift, and walk you out. 

when your friendship developed into something deeper—something more—he knew he had it good. he was so smitten, anyone who saw you two could tell. 

your first date happened after he came to the diner one night. 

“what can i get for you?” you asked him with a cheeky smile, leaning over the counter with your elbows on the table. he takes it as his sign to also lean his elbows over the counter, mirroring your stance.

satoru’s head slightly tilts playfully, eyes briefly landing on your lips before landing on your eyes again. 

a pause. 

“a date.”

it took him only a single date to ask you out because he knew before the first one that you were the one. 

now

“daddy was mean to mommy?” your son asked, an extremely worried and shocked look on his face. 

you gently laugh before settling into a smile but satoru has a big frown on his face.

satoru puts his hand on top of your son's head, “well, daddy was an idiot, i was just trying to impress your mommy,” he explains.

“daddy is a jerk!” your daughter then speaks, and satoru’s jaw drops. you’re trying to contain your laughter as satoru stands up and grabs both of your kids off the couch, throwing them over his shoulders as they squeal. your daughter lets go of the scrapbook you made, but you catch it just before it hits the ground. 

you gently place it over the coffee table as you follow your husband up the stairs to the kids rooms. 

they’re both squealing when satoru puts them both in their respective beds. 

you watch silently from the door as he kneels between both beds to whisper something to the kids and your heart leaps as you watch their eyes light up. just like their father. he kisses them each on the forehead as he tucks them into their beds. 

“mommy! we want your kiss too,” your son says. you walk over and give them both loud forehead pecks. 

you’re so incredibly happy with your little family. 

satoru stands up from his kneeling position to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around you. 

“goodnight my little angels. sleep well, you’ll need energy tomorrow for the aquarium,” he tells them sweetly. 

you turn on their night light before turning off the room light, “and don’t forget, mommy and daddy are here if you need anything,” you remind them. 

“okay mommy,” you hear your babies say. 

you shut the door and head to your room. 

satoru is on you in seconds. 

his hands move from your waist to your rear as he peppers kisses all over your face, and neck. you sigh happily into him as you wrap your arms around him. 

he gives you a squeeze, and he swallows the moan that releases out of you in a passionate, and longing kiss. 

“missed you so much,” he admits in between kisses. satoru had been away for two weeks for some out-of-state games, but he would call, text, and facetime you every chance he got. he’d call first thing in the morning as soon as he would wake up, while he was getting ready, during breaks at practice, before a game (always before a game), after a game (you watched every single game), on his way back to his hotel, right before bed, and even in his sleep he’d ask to stay on the phone. 

you’re a bit embarrassed to admit to how many times you two had phone sex during the away games that you couldn’t go to. 

before you had kids, he would take you everywhere with him, and while that is still somewhat the case. the children have school so it's a bit harder to manage to travel with him. 

“me too ‘toru,” you moaned, your tone earning a tiny whine from him.

“don’t do that," he starts "you know what calling me that does to me.”

he leans in to capture your lips again, but you’re leaning away. satoru pulls you closer in an attempt to kiss you again, but you refuse again.

you settle with a quick peck on the lips.

“we need to go to bed too because we have to be up earlier.” you remind him, and he’s smiling at you, “i know what’ll put you to sleep.”

you playfully push him off, “that's what you said right before i got pregnant with our second child,” you joke. 

he’s trailing after you like a puppy into the restroom as you ready yourself for bed, “maybe i want a third child,” he challenges and you look at him through the reflection in the mirror. 

you take in the serious look on his face, and you stand straighter at his admission. 

“'toru–” you start before he cuts in, “i’m retiring,” he starts, “i want to focus on our family. basketball is great, but it’s not my life. you are. after we win finals, im retiring.” 

you turn to him completely, and pull him into a strong hug. “I love you,” you gently admit. “I love you so much more, you have no idea,” he tells you, wrapping you in his arms. he engulfed you in his safety.

you share a moment of silence, before satoru ruins the moment. 

“I’m telling the kids you stalked me and secretly took pictures of me,” you pinch him. 

“Ow!”

BONUS ୭ ˚

your parents had convinced you to try out for the cheerleading team in high school. and you did. 

it was on a sunny afternoon, every school sports team imaginable was outside in the field. even the basketball team. they were doing their laps around the track field, which circled the current patch of grass that was hosting the cheerleader tryouts. 

“alright everyone, let's get ready for toe touches,” the captain announced enthusiastically. you’re a little distracted when you briefly make eye contact with a certain white-haired boy from across the field then you remember where you are and what was just said. you felt a little out of place, “i’m sorry,” you started, “what are toe tou–”

“ready? okay!” she shouted. 

you stand dumbfounded in the middle. however, you soon find out what a toe touch is as the girl beside you launches her foot into your face, knocking your head back from the force and collision. the impact is unexpected and the girls gasp. 

you’re too busy on the ground to realize a certain boy also created his own commotion on the track field when he collided with his best friend, sending them both to the ground because of his momentary distraction. 

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my tag list : join my girlypop disc: link ‹𝟹

TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @bloopsstuff : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @rjswrld : @fartm : @manyno : @altyx : @deluluforcarlos55 : @fangirlingoverfanfic : @gojostit : @jaelahh : @nvmlolo : @lavender-hvze : @um-no-ok : @jotarohat : @plutosgold

gojo and reader loser agenda

©2024 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate. I WILL FIND YOU.

[greengoblinswifey]

Shattered— Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you’re an actress on the brink of fame and you fall for your co-star Nicholas Chavez. discovering his secret coupled with your unexpected pregnancy changes your entire dynamic.

warnings— cheating, mentions of infertility, mature language, grief and loss, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex, abortion, manipulation.

a/n— kinda long but i’m a slut for angst, also this is all just my imagination and fantasy, it’s not based on nicholas irl <3

Alternative Ending

From the very first time you got an acting role, your manager told you, never engage in relations with your co stars. Looking down at the two positive pregnancy tests on the counter, you wished you had taken heed to her wise words.

You and Nicholas had been thrown into the spotlight together, both relatively new to the fame game. As co-stars, you’d developed a chemistry that felt electric, especially during your lovey-dovey scenes on camera.

As the filming progressed, those on-screen moments started to seep into your off-screen life. You’d find yourselves stealing kisses between takes, getting lost in long conversations about everything from your childhood dreams to your favorite late-night snacks. It was easy to forget that this was just work. You felt like you knew each other inside out.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you were in your trailer, and the laughter just flowed. “I really like this,” Nicholas said, leaning closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “It feels special, you know?”

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, it does. I’m just scared of what happens after this season wraps. Will we still have this?”

Nick brushed a thumb across your cheek, his gaze intense. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll always be here.”

You couldn’t help it; you leaned in and kissed him, the connection between you two crackling like electricity. Everything felt perfect in that moment, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

What were you missing? Why did he keep his life back home so close to his chest?

As your days turned into nights filled with mind blowing sex, you tried to enjoy every second, but the nagging doubt wouldn’t disappear. You were falling for him, and you wondered if he felt the same way, or if this was just a fun distraction for him.

As filming continued, he made sure to keep the relationship casual, reassuring you that it was all good between you two. “You know I care about you, right?” he’d say between takes, pulling you close, his lips pressing against your forehead, “But a public relationship? It might restrict me from getting certain roles.” You nodded, wanting to be supportive. After all, you understood the pressure of the industry. But deep down, a nagging thought lingered, was there more to it than that?

Still, you brushed off your doubts. You were wrapped up in the excitement of your new life, enjoying every moment of intimacy with Nicholas, nights spent tangled in sheets, whispering sweet nothings, and experiencing a side of Hollywood that felt like a dream. There were moments when he’d use condoms, and others when he’d pull out, but you never worried about getting pregnant. You knew you were infertile, and that fact brought you a strange sense of comfort.

During one of your casual conversations, you mentioned your part-time passion for photography. Nick lit up at the idea, and you quickly arranged for him to meet a photographer friend of yours who worked for magazines. “I’ll be sure to use them,” he said, his tone light. You didn’t think much of it, just a favor for a friend.

Then came the twist, Nick’s character was off the show for a few episodes. He returned to his hometown, and suddenly, the set felt empty without him. You missed him deeply, especially because you’d been feeling under the weather lately. The sickness hung over you, but you knew he needed a break so you didn’t bother him in staying.

As the days went by, his texts became infrequent. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe he was just busy? Maybe he was having fun back home? And then, you noticed your period was late. You weren’t scared per se, you remembered the infertility diagnosis, but something felt off.

In a moment of playful distraction, you called your sister. “I’m late,” you joked, half-laughing. “Maybe I should take a pregnancy test?” She encouraged you, laughter spilling over the phone, making it feel lighthearted.

You picked up two tests from the store, ensuring they weren’t expired. When you took the tests, you expected nothing. But to your shock, both tests came back positive.

The laughter faded, replaced by disbelief. You dropped the phone, feeling a wave of panic crash over you. Pregnant? How could this happen? You were still so new in your career, and Nicholas. How would you even tell him? Would he be happy? He had dreams to chase, and now there was a little life to consider.

Your mind raced with possibilities and worries. You knew you needed to talk to Nicholas but the fear of how he’d react was large. You’d built something beautiful, but this was a twist neither of you had planned.

The days dragged on as you tried to process everything. You took a few days to cool off, completely unsure how to proceed. The set was chaotic, your mind was racing while you were trying to act normal. Multiple takes of one scene felt like torture, especially when you had to run off to throw up in between. The directors were patient, but you could sense their frustration growing. You felt guilty, this pregnancy wasn’t their fault, and yet you were struggling to keep it together.

Just two days before Nicholas was set to return, the chaos hit a new level. You received a message from the photographer you had linked Nicholas with. “Check out how cute your co-star looks with his girlfriend!” it read, accompanied by a series of images. You froze as you opened the photos. There he was, Nicholas, beaming in a pregnancy announcement photoshoot with a woman. A woman who was his girlfriend.

Shock coursed through you as confusion and anger collided. Your heart sank, it felt like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t taken any photos with Nicholas, and now you realized why he had been so secretive about his life outside of filming. He was expecting a baby with her. You wanted to scream, shout, break things, or blow up his phone. But instead, you just sat there, staring blankly at the screen, tears streaming down your face.

You ran to the trailer bathroom, clutching your stomach as nausea washed over you. You felt it to your core, the reality of your situation was devastating. He had been playing you both, living a lie, and now here you were, grappling with the knowledge that your pregnancy was based on deception.

Days passed like a blur. You did your best to get through filming, but every time you returned to your trailer, the reality of the life growing inside you became unbearable. You would throw up and clutch your stomach, feeling the weight of what was supposed to be a beautiful moment turned sour by lies.

Finally, the day arrived when Nicholas returned to set. He burst into your trailer, the energy in the room instantly shifting. “I missed you!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. But you just sat there, staring blankly at him, the pregnancy tests in hand, proof of the life you were now burdened with.

He pulled back, looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”

The words caught in your throat. You were ready to confront him, ready to expose the web of lies. But all you could manage was a shaky breath, your heart racing in your chest as you prepared for the storm ahead.

With shaky hands, you thrust the pregnancy tests into Nicholas’s face, your heart pounding. “Here.”

He looked at the tests, confusion swirling in his eyes. “W-what? What the fuck is this. Is this… are you pregnant?” The realization hit him hard, and you could see the panic creeping in.

“Yeah, I am!” you shot back, your voice rising.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted, “my- my fucking career is just taking off, I’m filming a show, this- this wasn’t supposed to get this far.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” You couldn’t believe the things he was saying. “My career is just taking off, I’m filming a show too Nicholas.”

His expression shifted, the initial panic giving way to something more defensive. “I can’t handle this right now! My career is just starting, and I didn’t want to be tied down like this.”

Anger bubbled up inside you, boiling over like a volcano. You could sense the manipulation in his tone, the way he was shifting the blame onto you. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” you yelled, pushing him away. “You’re just thinking about yourself!”

He reached for you, attempting to pull you back into his embrace, whispering, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.” But you shoved him off, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

“Figure this out?” you screamed, your voice echoing in the small trailer. “How can you say that when you’re two-timing? Look at these!” You threw your phone at him, the pregnancy announcement photos landing in his lap. His face twisted with fury.

“Are you serious right now?” he shouted, his anger igniting. “I made a mistake with one of them! It wasn’t supposed to go this far! We’re filming a show together; I can’t just drop everything!”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not the Nicholas I thought I knew. How can you act like this? You’re a fucking two-faced liar, sleeping with two girls and getting both of us pregnant!”

He raked a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and despair. “I can’t do this. Not now. You need to- you need to get an abortion.”

The words hung heavy in the air, crashing down around you. You looked at him, heart sinking, disbelief coursing through you. “Are you serious? You want me to end this?”

Nicholas looked away, the weight of his own choices crashing down on him. But it was too late, the damage had been done.

Nicholas’s voice was cold and detached. “Yes, I want you to get an abortion. I’ll give you money for it. You need to have it gone by tonight.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again. “How can you refer to our baby as ‘it’?” The bitterness in your voice was undeniable.

He shrugged, pacing the small trailer. “I don’t know what an abortion can do to your body, but you’ll need time to rest. What are you going to tell production?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know either! But how can you be so heartless?”

“Listen I can’t deal with this, I have a girlfriend and a baby on the way,” he muttered, lowly.

You couldn't take it anymore. “No! I am your girlfriend! WE have a baby on the way, or at least I thought I was your girlfriend!”

Nicholas stopped pacing, his expression a mixture of guilt and confusion. He ran a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he muttered, unsure of what to say next.

Then, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, he turned and left the trailer without another word, leaving you alone in the silence.

You hugged yourself tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks. The reality of your situation crashed down on you. You felt utterly lost, your heart aching for the life you once envisioned, now shattered.

That night, you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind spiraling as you weighed your options. If you kept the baby, everything would change. Your career, just beginning to gain traction, would be stalled indefinitely. You’d be a single mother, left alone to care for a child Nicholas had already written off. And as a man, he’d be fine. Even with two babies on the way, he wouldn’t be the one carrying or caring for them.

On the other hand, if you didn’t keep it, you weren’t even sure if you’d get another chance. The thought tore at you, but you knew what the world would say. They’d call you a homewrecker, maybe even try to destroy your reputation, and all without knowing the truth. It would be you, bearing the weight of his lies.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you booked the appointment for the next morning. You went alone, tears streaming down your face as you went through it, feeling each moment echo in the hollow of your chest. By the time filming started later that day, you were late, your spirit shattered.

Nicholas spotted you as soon as you walked onto set. He approached, his voice low, but his eyes sharp. “Is it done?”

You nodded, feeling a hollow ache that reached all the way down to your bones. You could barely look at him, but when you did, all you felt was disgust. He added, as if it was some minor detail, “Don’t even think of reaching out to my girlfriend.” You couldn’t believe how cold he’d become, as if you were nothing more than a piece of his past.

Then the call for your scene echoed across the set, and you took your place opposite him. It was a romantic moment, a kiss, meant to be tender and full of passion. But when his lips touched yours, it felt like everything was wrong. The kiss was forced, awkward, each movement filled with a desperation neither of you could hide.

When the director called, “Cut,” you pulled away and fled, barely making it to your trailer before the tears began to flow. Just hours ago, you were carrying his child. Now, all that remained was an empty ache and a broken heart. In some twisted way, you felt almost relieved that you no longer had a part of him inside you. And yet, the loss left you feeling like a shell of who you once were.

A few days after the procedure, you felt like you had nothing left of him. Nothing to show for the life you’d once carried, the part of him that had been yours alone. He had been such a huge part of your life just days before, and in mere hours, that illusion had shattered completely.

The filming continued, and soon the news of his pregnancy announcement with his girlfriend went public. You watched as the set was buzzing with congratulatory wishes for him. Everyone beamed at Nicholas, showering him with smiles and words of celebration. Meanwhile, you did your best to hold yourself together, concealing the sadness that now rested in the hollow of your heart.

When the season finally wrapped, the months that followed became a time of rebuilding. You put everything into healing, into rediscovering yourself. By the premiere night, you were the picture of poise and confidence, draped in a red dress that turned heads. When you stepped onto the red carpet, even Nicholas did a double take, momentarily caught off guard by your transformation.

After the red carpet, he approached, offering a hollow smile. “So, how are you feeling? I just need to know, it’s really done, right?” He hesitated, glancing around, and added, “I heard sometimes fetuses survive abortion…”

The audacity of his words made you sick. Anger sparked in you, and you hissed, barely holding back your rage. “Yes, Nicholas. Our baby is dead. Thanks to you.” You were barely a few weeks along so you wouldn’t have considered it a baby but you wanted to say anything to knock him down.

As the night continued, you managed to keep your composure, even when his pregnant girlfriend approached you with a sweet smile, chatting as if you hadn’t unknowingly been fucking her boyfriend raw. All the while, Nicholas hovered nearby, his eyes sharp, ensuring you didn’t let anything slip. You walked away feeling relief. He’d no longer have a hold on you.

The following months brought a fresh start. You threw yourself into work, your career skyrocketing as you landed a massive film role. Meanwhile, Nicholas seemed to fade from the spotlight, mostly at home with his girlfriend, waiting for their baby. Until, finally, karma came for him, an article revealed that the child he thought was his was actually someone else’s, belonging to a rockstar his girlfriend had left him for.

You couldn’t help the satisfaction that spread through you. He’d reaped exactly what he’d sown, and you hadn’t lifted a finger.

The Oscar nomination was the pinnacle of your success, and the night of the awards ceremony arrived. To your surprise, Nicholas showed up, desperate to find you. He cornered you at last, offering a string of apologies and congratulations, asking for another chance now that he was alone. But you saw through him, his desire was only to latch onto your newfound fame. You looked him in the eyes, remembering everything he’d put you through. He had destroyed you, once. But you had risen again, and he was nothing to you now.

Without a word, you turned and walked away, leaving him to watch as you went forward, leaving him in the past for good.

[malaanna]

*STAR SIGN LEGACY CHALLENGE (BASE GAME VERSION) ☆ﾟ*･｡*･

The original challenge and rules are from @ginovasims. I only adapted it to base game. You can find the original rules here: https://ginovasims.tumblr.com/starsignchallenge

And big thanks to Hope for helping me edit it <3

I have copied some of the rules below for your convenience.

·  A twelve generation legacy challenge based on the twelve signs of the zodiac. Each generation will have a different set of goals and requirements before the new heir takes over.

Rules:

Aging must be turned on, but you can have it at any length you wish (I recommend long but it is entirely your choice).

Each goal must be met before the new heir takes over.

You cannot give the sims dramatic makeovers or personality adjustments. Slight changes to the appearance are fine but they can’t be made into a whole new sim.

NO MONEY CHEATS.

If you do this challenge, please credit @ginovasims.

Vague guidelines/suggestions:

Heir can be any gender, they don’t have to be female. They can also be any sexuality. 

Children don’t have to be genetic, they can be adopted, BUT they must be adopted as a baby/toddler.

Mods and custom content can be used.

The generations will offer three traits, you do not need the heir to have all three traits, but they MUST have at least TWO of them.

If you cannot add any of the required traits when the heir is a child, you are able to choose another trait and change it to the correct trait when available (either as a teen or YA). You can do this through cheats in CAS. But the same rule applies that you must have at least two of the offered traits by the time the heir is a YA.

If you do not have all of the packs required to complete the requirements for each generation, either find a similar alternative or skip that rule. But where possible, you must complete each generation requirement.

(OPTIONAL) I have assigned each generation a colour, you don’t have to follow this at all, or you can only use it as much as you want. You don’t need a whole yellow house with a sim only dressed in yellow, for example. It’s up to you!

(OPTIONAL) I have also given every generation a different theme to name their children. Again, this is all optional and you can ignore this, I just thought it would be fun and add a little extra challenge by coming up with different names you might not always use.

(OPTIONAL) Use the hashtag #StarSignChallenge on tweets, posts, and videos.

———————————————————————————————————

THE GENERATIONS

Generation 1 - Aries

You have always been an independent and confident person. Even since childhood, you knew what you wanted to do and had a plan to get there. You dreamed of becoming- no, you WOULD become a businessman/woman. You wouldn’t let anything get in your way and put all your efforts into climbing to the top in the world of business. You make friends with like-minded people and bump heads with those you don’t get on with as well. Your main issue is that you have never liked it when people tell you what to do. You often get easily frustrated when you think people are saying that you’re unable to do something. You never turn down a challenge and have always been extremely passionate about all of your interests. Anything bold and daring, you’d try it. You live for a life of thrills, always in action. You have always been loyal, sticking by your friends through thick and thin. It’s the same in relationships. In your eyes, love is built on trust and loyalty, and you would never forget this. You will always fight for what you believe is right and support the people you love, no matter what.

Requirements:

Any partner must be a good friend before you start romancing them

Never cheat on a partner

You must never initiate a breakup or divorce, but your partner can if it fits the story

Master fitness skill 

Have at least two tattoos

Dye your hair a bright color at least twice in your YA life

Reach at least level 7 of the business career

Reach at least level 3 of the Bodybuilder aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Woohoo in 3 different locations (hot tub, rocket ship, backyard observatory)

Make sure you have enough household funds to give your heir 30k when they move out

Reach level 10 of the business career 

Complete the Bodybuilder aspiration 

Give children winter themed names

Traits: Hot-headed, Loyal, Active 

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Business (managment branch)

Colour: Navy Blue

Generation 2 - Taurus

You grew up close to your parents and, because of their hot-headed nature, you have quite a short temper as well, and your problems can often seem trivial. The smallest things can offset your balance and get inside your head. But that’s okay, because you’ve found something to help you cope and distract you: food. You love to cook. Whenever you get stressed, you go to the kitchen and let all your frustration out into your cooking. And it pays off, your food is incredible. You spent your teen years cooking and dreaming about a future doing the same. Your dream is to one day become a master chef, but you need to make a name for yourself in the cooking industry first. Starting from the bottom won’t be easy, but you know you have the drive and the talent to make it. Nothing will stop you from achieving your dream. Even though you had a really close relationship with your parents, they did work a lot, meaning you spent a lot of time home alone.

Requirements:

Anytime a negative hot-headed moodlet appears, you must cook any meal (you don’t have to eat it, just cook)

Reach level 7 of the culinary career

Marry a co-worker

Reach level 10 of the cooking and gourmet cooking skills

Have twins (can cheat for this)

Host dinner parties and invite your parents at least every other week

Reach level 3 of the Master Chef aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Reach level 10 of the culinary career

Cook food with ingredients that you produced/collected

Complete the master chef aspiration

Give children food themed names

Traits: Good, Hot-headed , Foodie

Aspiration: Master Chef

Career: Culinary (chef branch)

Color: Orange

Generation 3 - Gemini

Being a twin, you always feel like you have to try harder to carve your own personality. You and your twin aren’t the same person, just because you look the same. You are unique and will prove that to everyone, in the most dramatic and fun ways you can think of. You’re a bold and confident person who wants to stand out, in every sense. You always worked hard in school, but it came easy to you to get good grades. You’re a natural genius, and aren’t afraid to show off and boast about it. You have a variety of friends and enjoy meeting new people, and you’ve never been afraid to experiment with fun and different styles or hobbies. Because of your parent’s hot-headed attitude and their frequent freaking out at little things, you’ve become a bit unpredictable as well. No one knows what mood you’ll be in, or how you’ll react to things. You enjoy this though, you like that people see you as an enigma. Life would be boring without a bit of spontaneity! It’s the same with your work life, and in romance too. You can’t settle in one job for a long time; you always get bored and want to try something new. You’re no different with relationships. You never really have a serious, long-term partner. It’s not that you aren’t interested in romance, it’s more that the idea of exploring new romances and people excites you more than settling down with one partner forever. You have always been inspired by your grandparent’s love of adventure. You want to explore different cultures, try new things, and be courageous! But can you keep up with this lifestyle forever?

Requirements:

Achieve an A grade throughout school 

Always wear bright colours

Have at least two piercings 

Take a ‘gap year’ after highschool and spend at least 2 days on vacation

Get pregnant/get someone pregnant from woohoo with a friend at a party

Stay friends and co-parent with your child’s other parent

Never get married

Reach level 3 of the Renaissance Sim aspiration

When your child is a toddler, move house. Move again when they are a teenager

Optional Requirements: 

Visit your grandparent (if they are still alive) at least twice in your life 

Complete the Renaissance Sim aspiration 

Uproot your life when you become an adult and move to a different world

Give children location themed names

Traits: Genius, Outgoing, Erratic

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Any

Colour: Mint

*Generation 4 - Cancer

You’re never able to fully settle as a child due to your parent’s erratic ways and brash decisions. Your life is often uprooted by moving houses so you never feel fully stable or like you fit in anywhere. You feel like you never really had any true friends growing up; you always have to leave them behind when your parent decides it’s time for a change of scenery. You try to stay in touch online, playing games with them and chatting, but it isn’t the same as being with them in person. Your parents always love you and treat you well, but you can’t help but dream of having a ‘normal’ family. With parents who live together and living in a forever home. You have always wanted this life for yourself. But when you get it, you realise that this ‘normal’ family isn’t everything. Things aren’t as easy as they always seemed. Your partner has been keeping secrets from you, and you find out in the worst way possible. Absolutely distraught and heartbroken, you begin to put all your effort and love solely into your children, often forgetting to care for yourself. Your children are innocent in this and you won’t let them suffer because of your partner’s mistakes. It takes you a while to get over the pain they caused you, but, eventually, you are able to pick yourself up and find a new focus in life. Your children will always come first. You decide to join the tech guru career. Over time, you learn that the main thing in life is having people who love and support you, and just because a family isn’t always together, it doesn’t mean it’s broken.

Requirements:

Enter a game tournament every week as a teenager

Have a rom-com style ‘meet cute’ at the library as a YA

Get engaged within a week of knowing each other, and married within the next week

Have at least one son and one daughter

Walk in on your spouse having an affair after you’ve had children 

Join the Tech Guru career at least a week after discovering your spouse’s affair

Reach level 5 of the tech guru career (eSports branch)

Reach level 3 of the Big Happy Family aspiration 

Reach level 10 of the programing and video gaming skills

Have your parent move in with you when they become an elder

Optional Requirements: 

Have a pen pal as a teen

Complete the postcard collection

Divorce your spouse and find love with a friend you haven’t spoken to since childhood 

Go on a holiday with just your children after discovering the affair

Reach level 10 of the tech guru career

Complete the Big Happy Family aspiration 

Name children after video game characters

Traits: Family-oriented, Geek, Gloomy

Aspiration: Happy Family

Career: Stay-at-Home Parent, Tech guru (eSport branch)

Colour: White

Generation 5 - Leo

Your life is never the same since one of your parent’s cheated on the other. The previous heir would give you and your siblings extra attention, and you lap it up. You know you were always spoiled as a child, and you never go without something you want. Despite all this, you do truly appreciate everything they do for you to try and give you a happy childhood. They teach you to be selfless and pure, and you keep these values in mind through your whole life. You aren’t a selfish person at all, you just know your worth and won’t let anyone treat you any less than that. Throughout your childhood, you have a passion for the arts. You’re always doing something to creatively express yourself. Anytime you have the opportunity to be the center of attention, you take it. You always knew you wanted to be known in the world, but would never give up on your creative hobbies for the sake of your career. You use your creative mind to post style vlogs. The more you post, the more your following grows, and your fame is quick to follow. Before you know it, you have paparazzi following you around and screaming fans chasing you, and you love every second of it. You adjust well to the celebrity lifestyle, and live a life of luxury with your equally famous partner and children. Who said you couldn’t have it all?

Requirements:

Play an instrument of your choosing through childhood and teen years

Reach level 8 of the style influencer career

Donate to charity every week after you start working

Master any instrument 

Reach level 4 of the photography skill

Reach level 3 of the Friend of the World aspiration 

Marry another a coworker as an adult 

Adopt at least two children together (you can also have genetic children)

Optional Requirements: 

Master the childhood creativity aspiration 

Reach level 10 of the style influencer career

Complete the Friend of the World aspiration 

Host house party weekly

Give all your children whacky and eccentric names

Traits: Creative, Good, Self-Assured

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Career: Style influencer (Trend Setter Branch)

Colour: Yellow

Generation 6 - Virgo

You never really fit into the famous lifestyle you were brought up with, it didn’t feel like you. You didn’t appreciate being in the public eye and couldn’t wait to move out and stop being known as the famous child of the social media celebrity that is your parent. While the rest of your family would rather be outside, followed by fans and paparazzi, you had always much preferred being home, tucked up with a good book. You still had a good relationship with your parents growing up, but felt like they unintentionally put extra pressure on you to be the best. The whole world watched you grow up, so they would know if you put a toe out of line. You always worked hard to avoid this embarrassment, for both yours and your parents’ sake. Having famous and rich parents meant that you had so much handed to you growing up. A lot of people would have loved this, but you hate it. You want to make your own life and create your own path, without your parents’ help or money. You were never interested in romance or love, but you love the idea of being a parent. You heard about how your great-grandparent had your grandparent with a friend, and the two would co-parent to raise them. This inspired you, and you realised you didn’t need a partner to be a parent. And so that is what you do. You and a close friend agree to raise a baby together, in a completely platonic relationship. The child would still grow up in a supported and loving home, and no one said that there had to be romance involved to look after a baby together. You provide them with anything they need, just as your parents had done for you. Except you would create and make everything for them, not just buy it with a celebrity status, and you always make sure it was perfect for your little angel.

Requirements:

Read one book every week as a teen

Finish school with an A grade

Move out with just 2k to your name

Drastically change your appearance after moving out (no facial reconstruction)

Master the painting and handiness skill

Decorate every room with paintings that you painted

Never decorate your house with something you buy IF you are able to make it (i.e. dining table or chairs)

Never pursue a romantic relationship 

Have a baby with a good friend and co-parent with them (you can woohoo with them to start the pregnancy, but remove all romance afterwards or you can have a science baby with them)

Reach level 3 of the Bestselling Author aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Instead of moving out with 2k, keep track of how much money you earn while living with your parents, and move out with just that money as a YA

Publish books as a side job/hobby

Reach level 10 of the writing, photography, gardening, fishing

Complete the Bestselling Author aspiration 

Name children after book characters

Traits: Perfectionist, Bookworm, Noncommittal

Aspiration: Bestselling Author

Career: Freelance Writer

Colour: Lilac

*Generation 7 - Libra

Growing up in a home built solely by your parent made you appreciate every detail, you knew that everything you owned was built with love. You never took a possession for granted, and would always relish in new items and objects. Your parent was a perfectionist so you knew that everything in your house would be of excellent quality, and this was what you’d grown to expect, in every walk of life; excellent quality. Since your parent cut themselves off from fame and fortune, you never knew your grandparent as a child. As a teenager, you became curious about your extended family, so your parent introduced you. It was easy to see that you had a lot more in common with your grandparent than your parent. You loved their life of luxury, especially how posh and expensive everything was. You knew you wanted a life like this. You always had a strong sense of right and wrong, and relished in honesty and truth. You decided you would join a business career. Plus, the job paid well so you’d be able to afford your luscious dream home. Your best friend as a child came from a wealthy family, so you bonded over your love of materialistic goods. When you became teens, you saw each other in a whole new light. You started dating and everything seemed perfect for a long time. Until, a matter of days before your birthday, something happens for you to break up with each other. You were both devastated but knew it was for the best. You had a few more serious relationships after your breakup, but none of them felt right. You eventually bumped into your first love again, and rekindled the relationship. This time, the love between you both was stronger than ever and you knew you’d met your soulmate. You live out the rest of your days in a luxurious house, full of materialistic goods, growing old together.

Requirements:

Always dress to impress

Don’t have any relationship with your grandparent until you’re a teenager, but become good friends before you become a YA

Fall in love with your childhood best friend and date as teenagers 

Breakup before you become a YA and go your separate ways

Have two positive and serious relationships as a YA, but end them by asking to be friends

Rekindle your love with a childhood sweetheart and never break up with them again

Have only two children close in age, but only after you become an adult

Reach level 8 of the business career (Investor branch)

Reach level 3 of the Soulmate aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Move in with your grandparent as a teen

Live in a modern mansion 

Reach level 10 of the business career (Investor branch)

Complete the Soulmate aspiration 

Name children after gemstones

Traits: Romantic, Cheerful, Materialistic 

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: business (investor branch)

Colour: Pink

Generation 8 - Scorpio

You always loved hearing about your parents��� love story and dreamed of having one yourself. Two childhood friends who fell in love and always found their way back to each other, what’s more romantic than that? As a teenager, your romantic relationships never worked that well. The other sim never quite lived up to your expectations. You wanted them to be perfect, and they weren’t. What made it worse was that your older sibling seemed to find the perfect partner while you were both at school. How was that fair? Not only that, they had better grades than you, and more friends. Anything you could do, they could do better. You were both given the exact same opportunities as children and raised the same, so it seemed wrong that they were better than you. But the one thing they couldn’t take from you was your music. That was the only thing you knew you were better at than them. Through your teen years, when you weren’t stuck on bad dates, you were in your room playing one of your instruments. When you became a young adult, you and your sibling cut ties and didn’t really interact with each other at all. You were also still on the hunt for a perfect partner. You continue to date around, but are faced with failure. How could it be so hard to find someone to love? You eventually decide to put your dating life on hold and focus on yourself. You have always enjoyed being active and sporty but never really concentrated on it as you were so preoccupied with dating and your music. But since you weren’t dating, you could bring your attention back to fitness. Lo and behold, you bumped into someone at the gym. Someone you never expected to be interested in. Someone so different from you and your family. But this sim captured your interest and really excited you. Could it be the love you were looking for all along? After your engagement and career success, you decided it was about time you made amends with your sibling. You realised that happiness didn’t come from other people and there was no use comparing yourself to them. Happiness comes from within and you strive to become the best version of yourself.

Requirements:

Lose any relationship with your sibling as a teen and have no relationship with them until you’re engaged and at level 7 of your career, then become BFFs with them

Have multiple failed romances in both your teen years and young adult years

Meet a sim at the gym who is very different from all your past romances 

Get engaged after two weeks of dating

Only have one child 

Busk weekly until you become a parent

Write and sell songs as frequently as you can

Reach level 7of the fitness

Master 2 instruments 

Reach level 8 of the Musician career

Reach level 3 of the Musical Genius aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Master any instrument while you’re still a teenager

Master 3 instruments

Reach level 10 of the musician career 

Complete the Musical Genius aspiration 

Give children musical themed names

Traits: Jealous, Active, Music Lover

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Career: Entertainer (musician branch)

Colour: Emerald Green

*Generation 9 - Sagittarius 

Being an only child meant you always had your parents’ attention, and you loved it. You weren’t a difficult child but you were very playful and never took things too seriously. At school, you were known as the class clown and never put too much effort into your studies. You loved parties.  Drinking, partying, exploring yourself. Getting juiced at clubs and spending your nights with strangers, anything to have a bit of fun. You made money by doing some part time jobs. Things went on like this for a while, until one night, something changed. You were expecting a baby with a random stranger. And they didn’t want the baby. Even though it wasn’t anything you’d anticipated ever wanting, the idea of having a child of your own felt… nice. You agreed that you would take the baby in and raise them by yourself, without the other parent. You saw it as a sign that it was time for you to grow up and mature. You had to support this new little person who only had you to rely on, and you refused to let them down. You stopped partying as frequently and spoke to your parent about a job in the entertainer industry. They made it big playing music, and you had always loved all the songs you’d heard at the clubs through the years. You wanted to produce your own tracks, and it meant you could still spend some evenings out doing your standup routines. You might never be the picture-perfect and most organised parent, but you’d do everything in your power to provide for your child.

Requirements:

Never achieve more than a B grade at school 

Go out to a nightclub or host a party every night in your early YA life 

Get a tattoo while juiced at night club

Only do part time jobs (but never overmax it, when you reach the top of the career, switch career)

Have a baby with a random stranger from a one-night stand

Move back in with your parents after becoming a parent

Enter the entertainer career after becoming a parent 

Reach level 5 of the guitar skill

Reach level 7 of the comedy skill

Reach level 3 of the Party Animal aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

If you are able to become pregnant, woohoo with multiple people in one night so you never know who the parent is

Reach level 8 of the guitar skill

Reach level 10 of the comedy skill

Complete the Party Animal aspiration 

Name your child after a cartoon character

Traits: Music Lover, Goofball, Childish

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Part time jobs (before your child is born), after entertainer (Comedian branch)

Colour: Red

Generation 10 - Capricorn

You never really understood why your parent chose to live their life the way they did. No order, no plans, just doing whatever they felt like in the moment. You loved them, but you had very different belief systems and the pair of you often had arguments about these disagreements. They did what they could to provide for you, but you couldn’t help but question if it was enough. They never got a real job or fully settled down, and you felt a bit embarrassed that you were brought up in your grandparent’s house since they never bought their own home. You decided early on that you would strive to be better than the legacy they left behind. You would work towards big achievements, in both your professional and personal life. You decided that when you have children, you would always do whatever you could to help them achieve and set them up for success. You started by thinking about where your parent went wrong, and worked hard to do better. You’d get As in school. The idea of getting juiced and woohooing with strangers was something you decided you’d never do. Everything you would do, you wanted to do it properly and like a real adult. Your children would learn to be responsible and have a parent they can fully rely on. You always had an appreciation for the finer things in life, and would often be seen turning your nose up at whatever seemed below you. You didn’t have the most friends because of this, partly because you never saw them being as good as you, and partly because no one liked your attitude. You didn’t mind though, you wouldn’t want to be seen with anyone or anything lower than your worth. Why settle for anything less?

Requirements:

When you become a teenager, have arguments with your parent and lose friendship (never enter the red though)

Never have more than three friends outside of family 

Have As all through school 

Always dress smart and never wear revealing clothes 

Never get any tattoos or piercings 

Never dye your hair 

Marry a snob sim  

Hire a maid/nanny to take care of your children and home while you are at work 

Never send a baby or toddler to daycare

Never woohoo in public 

Have a big white wedding

Reach level 7 of the writer career (journalist branch)

Reach level 10 of any 3 skills

Reach level 3 of the Successful Lineage aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Go on family vacations to Oasis Spring

Reach level 10 of any 5 skills

Reach level 10 of the writer career (journalist branch) while you are still a YA

Complete the Successful Lineage aspiration

Give children traditional names

Traits: Snob, Ambitious, perfectionist

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Writer (journalist branch)

Colour: Black

*Generation 11 - Aquarius

You grew up in the city and never felt like you truly belonged there. It felt too chaotic and crowded, full of fake people pretending to be happy. At least, that’s what it seemed like to you, because you were never happy there. You felt drawn to the place with warm climate. So with your childhood best friend, your only friend, you decided to move to the Oasis Spring at the first chance you could. You always had a passion for plants, always making sure that your garden looks healthy. So you started selling things that you grown. In the loud hustle and bustle of the night life, you could escape by focusing solely on your paintings. Watching the brush swirl on canvas. Whenever you were stressed or tense, you would go back to painting. You met someone who you’d never seen in the small town before.

Requirements:

Have only one friend throughout your childhood and teen years

Move to Oasis Spring as a YA with your BFF

Live with your BFF until you get married, then make sure you see them every week after moving out

Marry a sim with Art Lover trait

Reach level 7 of the painting skill

Reach level 10 of the gardening skill

Reach level 3 of the Freelance Botanist aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Complete the frog collection 

Grow a Cowplant

Have at least 5 perfect plants

Complete the Freelance Botanist aspiration

Give children water themed names

Traits: Cheerful, Loves the Outdoors, Loner 

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Career: None

Colour: Peach

*Generation 12 - Pisces 

Growing up you were always connected with natural world. You grow up playing in your parent’s garden and watching the pother parent paint. So you developed love for both those things. Any way you could express yourself creatively, you would try it. You were a free spirited child,used to the expensive outdoors, so you tend to be really clumsy. As a teenager, after trying many different hobbies, you found that your true calling and passion was for art. You loved to paint and craft things. It was never your plan to sell your art or become famous, you just wanted to create. And create you did. Your home was covered in your artwork. Your parent couldn’t be more proud of the caring and artistic person you’d become. So you began to think, why care what others think? What’s the point in over-thinking and becoming paranoid about people judging you? You would always have your family and animals there for you, no matter what, and that was all you needed.

Requirements:

Never go fishing 

Start painting with your parent as a child

Reach level 3 of 3 different creative skills as a teen before learning the painting skill

Become BFFs with your non art lover parent 

Master the painting skill

Reach level 5 of gardening skill

Decorate your house with your artwork

Reach level 3 of the Painter Extraordinaire aspiration

Optional Requirements: 

Paint individual portraits of your family members (use paint from reference)

Reach level 10 of the gardening skill

Reach level 7 of any creative skills

Complete the Painter Extraordinaire aspiration 

Give children art themed names

Traits: Vegan, Clumsy, Art Lover

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire 

Career: Freelance artist

Colour: Baby Blue

[in-case-of-grace]

Alternatives to "GM" in TTRPGs

Spurred by a recent post from @imsobadatnicknames2 that found its way into my feed by way of @anim-ttrpgs' addition (this post got too big to be a reblog sorry), I've been thinking about the influence of the terms we use for the host-and-narrator role in a TTRPG. Each tends to carry some connotations and implications as to what the role might entail, and these can influence how people play your game.

At best, this may enforce your intended roles for the game, alongside its themeing. At worst, your chosen term for this role may create false assumptions, and lead to people approaching it in a way that makes it unfun for them.

There's also an aesthetic component to consider! Having a term that matches your genre and vibe can go a long way! It's gonna be a balancing act— does the term change how people interact with your game enough to become a problem? Does it match and enforce your themes and aesthetics strongly enough to balance some of those problems out?

Below, I'm gonna go over a couple common (and uncommon) terms for this role and what I think their connotations, implications, and best usecases are here. These are gonna be beholden to my own biases, of course— and you may see different connotations entirely! Maybe it'll help folk think more about what terms they want to use!

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"Game Master" is very gamey. It implies that this person is setting up a bunch of specific, pre-made mechanical challenges-- like an obstacle course. I will admit that it does have the weakest connotations of all the commonly used terms I'm aware of, though-- simply by virtue of it having become so commonplace across all sorts of games.

I think it works best with chunkier, mechanically heavy games. Due to it having a weak connotation, though, it won't hurt your game if you use it elsewhere, it is kind of the baseline these days, after all.

---

"Storyteller" implies that this person is sitting everyone down and telling them a story. Like putting on a play. There's an implication that they are going to be controlling most of the narrative here-- and that the players don't have as much say in it.

It's also technically incorrect, given that...well, the players are storytellers too! The point of these games is to tell a story together!

It can work for more narratively focused games, it has some lighthearted, cutesy vibes that can be a good fit for some-- but its connotations can lead to this person taking more control than you may actually intend for them to have in your game.

It's one that I don't think accurately fits a lot of games, and is chosen more for its aesthetics and vibes. (Something I have done before, and with time it bothers me more and more.)

---

"Narrator" is the opposite of Storyteller-- it implies, to me, that this person has less say in the narrative than the players. They are there to impartially narrate and describe the world's reactions to what the players do, little else. A passive observer, almost.

I think it can still work fine for plenty of games-- especially those with contemporary settings. It's the sort that, to me, feels more suited to sandboxy games that are more focused on providing a bunch of simulationist tools for players to poke and prod the world with, rather than on telling a structured narrative.

---

"Dungeon Master" is particularly genre-limited. It carries a lot of the same implications that GM does, but for fantasy games in specific-- especially dungeon crawlers.

Only making a special note of it here since it is tied to A Particularly Big Game in the community. Its connotations are much stronger than GM's, though, and it feels out of place in rules light games— unless they are specifically set in a dungeon.

---

"Director" is one that can have drastically different implications depending on the background of who reads it. If they're a film buff, they'll think it implies that this role has final say on everything, and retains high levels of control that the players do not share. Very much akin to Storyteller.

However if the person reading it is more familiar with video games, and the Left 4 Dead series (and games inspired it) in particular, they'll see the Director role as something more reactive and behind the scenes. They may think this person is responsible for improvising and presenting the players with challenges and scenarios that match their current situation— be it narrative or mechanical.

There may have been a specific plan made ahead of time, but it is filled with a ton of contingencies, with an expectation that improv will fill in the gaps.

Though like Narrator, the L4D type of Director implies a somewhat passive, observer role that isn't meant to have a say in the story.

I think most people will see it with film connotations rather than the Left 4 Dead connotations— which is unfortunate, considering that the L4D type of Director is actually really well suited for certain types of TTRPGs. I think "Game Director" vs "Director" may help alleviate this somewhat, but I'm unsure how effective it'd be as I don't think most people share the L4D brain association I do.

---

"Referee," "Arbiter," "Judge," and "Moderator" all share the same problem as Narrator-- but 10 times worse. These are all heavily laced in passive connotations-- and imply that this person is there simply to determine the outcomes of mechanical situations, but has no say in the narrative.

They can work nicely with like, sports or competition TTRPGs in specific, though.

---

"Master of Ceremonies (MC)" implies that you're not playing a game, but that this person is about to lead you through an awards ceremony, drop some bars, or host some stuffy 500 year old regal event called "the Ceremony of the Ballet Fish" or something.

I don't think this one fits in TTRPGs like, at all, frankly. I just cannot imagine someone in that role being referred to as an "MC" unless we're talking about a game that is specifically about a ceremony, or rap.

---

"Caretaker" implies that this person's role is to maintain and care for the world, game, and story. It implies that they not only facilitate the garden you're all playing in, but that they also trim or rearrange it to suit everyone's needs-- including their own.

I actually think this one is very nice. It doesn't imply that they're an absolute monarch, nor does it imply that they're a passive observer. It also manages to encapsulate the amount of background work the role can often require, without taking away their say in the resulting narrative.

A Caretaker has agency in the story, while remaining cognizant and receptive of the players' agency, too.

This works really well for games focused on telling collaborative narratives, but I think it can also work fairly well for mechanically focused ones as well. It feels pretty versatile!

This one is new to me and I honestly might start using it for my games going forward, unless someone knows of a common connotation I'm unaware of!

---

"Facilitator," and "Host" both imply that this person provides the space and tools for the game, and nothing else. They handed the players the keys, told them to lock up after they're done, and left to go do sick flips in their motorcycle or something nerds do.

To me, the term by itself implies this person has very little to do with the actual game. I don't think these work any better than, say, GM, without a thematic justification.

Host could be amazing for some sort of bio-horror game— or for a game show RPG. Facilitator feels DoA to me. Both, however, could work if your game really is set up so the Facilitator/Host just provides tools to the players and does little else.

---

"Guide" implies that this person takes on a fairly hand-holdy role in leading the players through the game and its narrative. Maybe not quite railroading, but they definitely do a lot to keep the players on track.

This one, I feel, carries some "teacher" connotation— as if this person is responsible for teaching the players the rules. It's on them, not the players, to read and remember the actual rules.

I feel that this connotation largely ruins what good this term could do.

But, it can still work well in certain cases. If your game really is meant to have a focused, linear narrative, it can work quite well. The same goes for specific genres or settings— such as anything dealing with camping, national parks, or tourism.

---

"Overseer" taken at face value, actually could be pretty apt. They'd be someone who oversees the game and does what they can to keep things fun.

Unfortunately, due to the word's use in workplace environments and dystopian fiction— it has some pretty heavy cultural connotations that turn it more into a dictator role. They have complete and total control over the game and its narrative, even if the players disagree with their choices.

I think it can work well for games that deal with dystopian or corporate settings, where this person might actually be meant to have more control, or simply for the flavor— but not a ton else.

---

"Producer" is vaguely similar to the film-style Director-- in the sense that it comes from film. However, unlike the Director, a Producer coordinates and works together with the players to tell their story. It's a more collaborative role that shares power and agency more evenly with the table.

This also somewhat accurately implies the amount of work that goes into the role, much like the Caretaker.

However, given its origins, it doesn't imply they're playing a game— I can't entirely explain why, but it feels similar to MC in this sense. The term is very heavily entrenched in its origins, and carries strong film connotations— even though, yes, video games have producers too!

I think it'd be rad to see games using this, though. In time the strong film connotations may shake off! Like Caretaker, I think it's fairly versatile and could be well suited for a wide variety of games.

---

Niche terms such as keeper, warden, overlord, president, deity, and fixer are always worth considering, too! These tend to just be one-offs used in a specific TTRPG, that suit their setting and tone in particular.

Now, each can and does have its own implications and connotations to consider— weigh those against how well it serves the vibes of your game before you lock in!

---

"Host and Narrator (HAN)" implies the same things that these terms do separately-- but combines them to offset (some of) their downsides. This implies that they host and provide the tools needed for playing the game, yes, but also that they actually stick around to narrate and respond to the players.

When Narrator is combined with Host here, I think this also transforms into something a little closer to the Caretaker— as the Host and Narrator both, they have more of an active role in maintaining the space (and story) they've provided.

It feels similarly versatile, as a result. I just made this one up and don't know if there are any games that use it already, it could have legs— it is a little dry and flavorless, though. This may give it a potential leg up on Caretaker, which does have a lil bit of a lighthearted vibe that may feel off in, say, a horror game.

---

Honorable mentions - Scenestress - Conductor - SOUP (Story Overseer United (with) Players) - Their Majesty - MOMMY (Mediator Over Making Mythic Yarns) - JOE (Joe Ojoe Ejoe) - Representative (REP) - Doormat

---

Again, these are all just according to the implications and connotations I find in these terms— you may find others! What you pick is going to depend on you, your game, and your intended audience!

I don't know if perfect terms exist, and it's wise to explain whichever you use within your rulebooks— just to ensure that someone else's biases and assumptions don't lead to them misinterpreting things.

Is there anything I missed? Any terms you like to use? Do you have a vastly different set of assumptions for one of these terms? Please share!

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 144 (2)

author's note: pretty sure this can be read as a standalone fic, or as a part of my "ashes" series! this is the real alternative ending… considering how the game didn't end as we hoped…. you can check out that part too here, though, because i added some important-ish things to it. anyways i kinda really like how this chapter ended up sooo hope you enjoy too. <3

series masterlist

jack barely said a word to you all evening.

when you met him in the hallway leading to his changing room after the game, he seemed as miserable as ever. barely looking into your eyes, thoughts clearly on something else, rubbing his temples tiredly. you tried everything you could to light up his mood – a cheek kiss, intertwining your fingers with his, whispering sweet nothings into his ear – but he wasn't having any of it.

not that you didn't understand. he had just lost a major game and gone through this championship with just one point to his name. this was definitely not something he was used to, or what he had expected from himself. it didn't surprise you the slightest that he wasn't happy with the outcome of tonight.

after a long and painfully silent taxi ride back to the hotel, jack hurried off to his own room – the one he was sharing with a teammate – to gather some of his things and bring them to your room. most of the american players were going out to drink the loss out of their minds, and jack had no intention of being in his room when his roommate stumbled in drunk at four in the morning.

you'd expected jack to maybe stay in his room for a while and collect his thoughts before coming over to yours. you knew he had a lot to deal with, and you knew he wasn't always the most articulate about these things. talking wasn't his way of letting things like these out.

and yet, he knocked on your door just minutes after you'd parted from him in the hallway. he dumped his bag on the floor after he'd stepped inside, barely acknowledging you as he walked in and sat on the edge of the bed.

this wasn't his usual, relaxed and comfortable silence; this one was heavy, rugged and loaded, making the air thick. jack looked like he wanted to punch something, and you were almost scared that he would – but instead, he simply pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose.

you'd seen him get irritated over games before – but this wasn't like any of the other games. this was a chance for him to prove that he belonged on the international level.

"i should've reached more for that pass," jack said after a few long moments. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "i should've stood a little closer, read the game better."

sitting down on the bed, though giving him some space, you were unsure what to say. you knew he didn't like platitudes such as "you were good anyway", and you knew he hated when people tried to comfort him in a way that made him feel like they were just belittling his anger. you had seen enough hockey games at this point to know that there isn't just one mistake that makes an entire game – if the us team hadn't let in two goals earlier in the game, they would have won without going into overtime – but that's not how jack saw it. in his head, it wasn't about the team.

it was about him.

you tried to swallow but your mouth was too dry. his voice was full of contempt, but he needed to let it out, so you didn't say anything. you placed a hand on his back, slowly and carefully, to see if he could even accept any kind of comfort right now.

at first, the thick muscles of his back tensed. but after a few seconds, he breathed out and dropped his face into his hands. "fuck."

his voice was so low, so weak, but it carried his entire frustration.

you didn't say anything more – and neither did he. until he finally looked up, right at you, chest trembling with his unsure breaths. "i need you."

the unexpectancy of the words felt like a dagger to your heart. it wasn't a sexual thing, not even a romantic thing. he just said it like the words escaped from his lips before he could stop them, before he could think them through.

you had no idea what to do. jack, ever the controlled and confident man, spoke with a voice so frail that it broke mid-sentence. he had never said something like this before; jack had always been the strong one, the one to not admit his weaknesses. he showed his feelings, but very rarely said them.

that's when it hit you – he was feeling more than he said out loud.

you knew you should answer him. say anything, but no words came out. so you did the only thing you knew of; you scooted closer, arms draping across his shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. he froze, but only for a second before melting into the embrace. with his face nuzzled into your hair, he whispered, "i really wanted to win this. not for the team... for myself. to prove that i'm capable of it. because it's... all i have."

hockey wasn't just a career for him, nor just a sport he loved. it was a part of him.

and you were a part of him, too.

"you have me," you whispered back, unsure if it was a promise or not. but at this moment, it was true.

it took jack hours to fall asleep. it was just as hard for you to doze off, to be fair; his words kept echoing through your mind all night.

i need you.

you knew he said it in a moment of vulnerability, that he wasn't thinking. but... he still said it. it definitely could still be true.

instinctively, you turned around to face him in the darkness. the contours of his jaw were illuminated in the soft moonlight, the soft stubble almost begging for you to brush your thumb across it. but when your gaze climbed higher, you realized – his eyes were wide open, staring into the ceiling.

"you're not sleeping," you whispered.

his breath hitched ever so slightly. busted. "no." his voice was hoarse, tired.

"what are you thinking about?"

he was quiet for so long that you were scared he wouldn't answer. "the fact that i'll never be good enough."

it was so out of the blue that your chest ached with guilt. "jack..."

"it doesn't matter how much i practice. there will always be someone better, someone who scores more points than me, someone more worthy to work on."

it hurt to hear him talk that way. both because it was so far from the truth – did he not still hold the record for most points and assists in usntdp history? – and because he was always so sure of himself, so good at pushing himself forward, never letting his insecurities win over him. "you know that isn't true."

he turned his head in your direction. you couldn't properly make out his expression, but you could feel his gaze on you. "do i?"

"jack," you let out a low sigh. "if you hadn't been good enough, you wouldn't even have been here. you've already made it further than most people. this was one tournament, one game; it doesn't define you."

he shut his eyes as if trying to take in your words. when he opened them again, there was something heavier in his eyes. "it feels like it does."

you wanted to say something more, to make him understand. you wanted to rabble records at him, remind him of what his teammates think of him, what all of the reporters say about his talent. yet, there was something about the way he said it that made you realize that none of those things were what he needed. he didn't need someone to say that all was well – he just needed you to be there.

so you moved closer, resting your head atop his shoulder. it wasn't a big step, but it was enough. "it wasn't your night," you whispered eventually. "but you're still you."

it took a while, but then you felt it – his hand, dragging slowly up your arm. he didn't say anything, letting his touch act as a way of thanking you.

that night, you fell asleep closer than ever.

[forsaken-headcanons]

Im guessin AUs are on the table, so I made a very silly one that probably takes place in the same universe as Forsaken:

DESERTED - An AU similar to the main Forsaken where CERTAIN SKINS are the ones playing the game, more specifically skins that seem to be/are entirely different people. These skins correspond to who they're skins FOR in Forsaken, but in DESERTED are their own people.

SURVIVALISTS:

Noob - GASA 4 Protagonist, nicknamed Snackbar

> Considering the amount of endings in that game, Snackbar probably somehow ended up in Forsaken through one of them.

> Perhaps an alternate ending to the Toothpaste and Orange Juice ending.

> Snackbar massively regrets his decision.

007n7 - 007e7

> Just 007n7's cousin. Has a way better relationship with his gang of misfits than 7n7.

> Possibly got here from tinkering with c00lgui and teleporting to the very, VERY wrong location.

SUPPORTS:

Elliot - Alien Skin, named Xalloit

> Crashlanded onto Roblox Earth a while ago and was knocked unconscious. Crashlanded in the worst place imaginable.

> Pizzas look unappetizing at first, but are the best ones you'll ever taste.

> Is trying to get the hang of normal Robloxian pizzas and, contrary to Elliot, finds putting pineapple on them a fine dish indeed.

Builderman - Dragondudes3

> The goat from one of the best Roblox ARGs running right now.

> Dragondudes3 ended up here from an Eclipse incident, possibly the one where he saw Ace in the fog, and got taken there instead of how the normal ARG progresses which is he DOESN'T get taken.

> Copes with the rounds with Youtube commentary, is lowkey a competitive, toxic gamer at times and irritates the killers (I mean bro plays TF2, he's gotta have a little spunk in him.)

Dusekkar - LOVESHOT

> LOVESHOT is probably a singer to reference the song she's based off of, who probably got Forsaken in the middle of a performance gone wrong where the structural supports of the spotlights flaked out and one, assumedly, crushed her.

> To all Robloxians, she is MISSING.

> She has a really good relationship with most survivors and finds them all lovely. She sings for them to pass the time and to boost morale.

Taph - Warhead

> Might have to do more research of Warhead's base game, but I can see him being the assigned leader of the group in terms of strategizing their survival for the rounds.

SENTINELS

Guest 1337 - Matt

> An obvious choice. Matt probably got teleported here upon passing out after being shot in the middle of war. Right now, in the hospital, his body is in a comatose state while his soul is in Forsaken!

> The ACTUAL leader of the group and makes sure that everyone is still sane after everything, even when he himself is falling apart.

Shedletsky - Brighteyes

> WOOHOO The Spectre got Shedletsky's wife!!

> Ended up here trying to look for Shedletsky herself and the Spectre said "oh you'll find him. You'll see where he's rotting in for yourself." And she woke up here.

> Another assigned leader of the group and almost never misses her sword slashes. Protective over the younger members of the group, but is skeptical of 007e7 due to his relation to 007n7.

Two Time - Blossom

> Insane Japanese cultist obsessed with the Kami surrounding them. Just Two Time but Japanese probably.

> Their version of Azure is named Sakura.

> Obsessed with Kami relating to nature, life, death, and rebirth, just like Two Time, and sacrificed Sakura on their own wits to appease the gods of their culture.

> A lot calmer than Two Time, but not any less sane.

Chance - Dog Skin, named Kouun [WARNING: implications of animal abuse or neglect]

> A Shiba Inu hailing from Japan who somehow fucking ended up here on a whim. His name means "good luck" or "good fortune" in Japanese.

> NOT Chance. Is an entirely different person-dog thing.

> A morpher, or a Robloxian that is able to change forms (to reference morph pads). His true form is a dog, and hence he cannot speak normally. He has learned JSL (Japanese Sign Language) to cope but unfortunately most of his newest companions are NOT Japanese.

> Appeared in Forsaken in a box labeled "want home." Looked beaten and bruised for a dog so beautiful. The other survivors hate what this implies.

> Prefers to stay a dog, but the Spectre forces him to appear human.

> Actually just a dog, somehow smart enough to gamble and shoot a gun (Kouun baby thats dangerous put it down no NO-). He sounds like KyloTheDoge. Yes the survivors play fetch with him.

oough. killers will be in a separate post

[DESOLATE AU CAST: 1/2]

- 🌟

oh these are so freaking good oml. first of all LOVE the name for the au holy shit?? Desolate... ougsiuhdfi sorry we love words,. that's so sick

L for 7e7 dude 💔 imagine getting desolated when you're just trying to fix ur teleporter bru that is an insane fail. yes we are also talking about GASA4Protag :sob:

aha also RECALLAHOLLOWHEART MENTIONED!! WE STAY WINNING /SILLY

LOVE THESERAGH IT'S PEAK !!

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

over the last 3 months i have seen myself called (and sometimes blocked for being assumed to be):

a racist/a bigot

homophobic/queerphobic/transphobic

ace/demi-phobic

a fascist

for expressing opinions such as "I found the characters and background stories in Veilguard weaker and less interesting than previous Dragon Age games" and "i miss the amount of tension and conflict that we used to get to explore with the player character depending on their in-game background and life history" and "i did not feel Lucanis' character and romance arc was fully satisfying while I was playing through it".

and since this all started we now have:

seen the entire DA staff laid off from Bioware

heard many now-former bioware devs talking about how toxic the workplace was during the development of DA4

seen allusions to Bioware/EA executives overriding plot/plans that the Dragon Age writers/devs would have preferred

extracted large amounts of cut content from the games that show things like increased emotional response range for Rook, or alternate endings for companion arcs (NOT concept art content, but actual written and even voice-recorded dialogue in the game files), or increased impact from decisions you could make in the game

IN ADDITION to what we ALREADY knew about how many times the game changed direction/leadership changed/the mid-process layoffs, etc.

so can we maybe not keep putting "people who come into the Dragon Age universe from a place of love and were ultimately disappointed with the latest installment" in the same trash bucket as "dudes on twitter who were mad there were trans/nonbinary characters in their AAA game". can we FUCKING as a community acknowledge that there are many reasons someone might not jive with a change in direction other than jumping to "they disagree with me so they must obviously be horrible people, whose opinions shouldn't be counted anyway" (<-if this is your first impulse maybe examine that also).

i am so tired and i am never gonna get an apology for any of it but NOW that a lot of the people who were posting/reblogging these sentiments are hearing/seeing all these other things add up. it's like suddenly now it's "acceptable" to have problems with aspect of Veilguard or want more from it, because the writers/devs have shown they probably did too during it's creation. whereas when I said these things right off the bat (because the only thing we had was the game we got. not the game we can pretend they wanted to make instead) it WASN'T because apparently expressing opinions on my personal tumblr counts as "being mean to/harassing devs who worked hard on the game" or, again, assumed I am a racist/bigot/facist/queerphobic.

you're allowed to still like Veilguard. it's fine i promise. you can love the game if you love it and my not loving it has nothing to do with your own relationship to this piece of media. i am happy there are people who truly can enjoy it without massive Caveats. but i am still seeing like 3-5 posts Per Week express those opinions and it is really destroying my love for the community i once enjoyed.

[oakiyo]

oakiyo - All my Custom Content (2020-present):

Over the past 4 years of creating custom content for the sims I have made over 200 items. Since there are so many items and collections that I have released, and that issues are inevitable, I have gone through the majority of my custom content and fixed mesh issues, changed weights and maps, or just freshened up the textures and previews.

In this post, you are able to download all of my custom content (excluding content that I have deemed as ‘retired’ as I may not like the style or finished product of said item any more).

More information and download instructions are under the ‘keep reading’ button, or alternatively can be found on the download post on Patreon. Hope this is useful and you enjoy my content!

Download here + read more (Patreon, Free) | Twitter

Basic Information:

Hairs:

Base game compatible.

All have a shadow, specular, and normal map alongside correct LOD’s.

Select hairs are not hat compatible.

Some hairs come with an accessory or recolour file - found in the left brow ring category.

Clothing:

Base game compatible.

All have a shadow, specular, and normal map alongside correct LOD’s.

The clothing comes in different palettes, depending on the collection or initial time of release of the item.

Some clothing items come with a recolour file - found in the glove category.

Miscellaneous Information:

All items have been ordered chronologically of their release, in their respective categories in CAS and updated with the same catalog preview style.

I will update this folder at the end of every month/when new content has been published for public download.

Any content that is not included in this post means that the item has been retired. This means that I will no longer update it or provide fixes in the event that issues may occur. Please note that my Terms of Use still applies to any and all content I have released so please be respectful.

Each release of custom content included in here has also had the original custom content post updated (long overdue, I know).

Download Instructions:

You have the option to download an individual file or my entire custom content ‘discography’ via the Google Drive folder. Items have been organised by year of release, with collections and collaborations having their own folders. Below are download instructions should you need them.

It is highly recommended that you delete the old files. For example, any files with [oakiyo] or of similar variation, please delete. The files in this download folder are the most up-to-date versions, and so are less likely to have any issues or problems.

Download a specific item:

To download a specific item, right click the one you would like and click download.

Download the entire folder:

To download the entire folder or a specific month, you can do exactly the same thing.

If you enjoy my content and would like to support me and my work, you can do so via Patreon! I am endlessly grateful for all the support I have received over the past 4-5 years, thank you all so much!