#But yeah fuck cr at this point

[balleater]

despite being more often than not a "rules as written" fan over "rule of cool", i really do love me a good "rules be damned, i'll give you this awesome moment" call. like matt giving fcg the otohan kill despite what her hp was at or brennan giving cerrit an extra mage slayer reaction attack at the end of calamity. honestly, if anything, i think the fact they mostly play by the book makes these moments even better because it really has that extra weight towards those decisions to put the rules aside.

[utilitycaster]

finally watching the episode and I will say, saving any final judgment on the choice made here until I've finished but I do feel rather validated that deities outside the Prime/Betrayers are officially Not Feeling Good either.

[sbrn10]

C3E23

C3E63

C3E76

C3E85

C3E86

C3E89

[essektheylyss]

I am obsessed with how narratively convenient Lark's divinatory abilities are. She's the only one of the protagonists who is both pragmatic and has a working sense of self-preservation, so having some internal impulse that is actually the guiding hand of the cosmos pushing her into doing the REALLY stupid shit is both necessary and really useful.

Like, I am the type of writer who kind of scoffs at the idea that characters are beyond the writer's control and will completely screw over your outline, because on one hand, a sensible outline will follow the characters' personalities and tendencies anyway. Obviously in an ensemble cast you will need to do some wrangling, but in theory your characters are responding to varying degrees of stimuli in order to maneuver them into the places you need them to be for things to all come together in the end.

But more importantly, "curse from god" is the funniest and easiest way to push any character to do things beyond the realm of reason when necessary, and frankly, what the fuck is the point of playing god if you don't embrace that?

[sparatus]

heyoooo I saw some tags on a post you shared that said something about how the batarian resistance was born, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on a batarian resistance because I also want to do a batarian resistance, but I've been having trouble noodling out what that looks like.

okay attempt two at answering this cause my computer decided to restart itself last time and i got mad and didn't want to retype everything lol

obviously i'm going to start with saying the vast majority of my batarian work is in my no-reapers au exponential differentiation, especially blood in the water where the two deuteragonists working with shepard are second in command of the resistance tarvok shad'derah and his friend and close ally of the resistance gurji taeja, and we're also poised right at the start of the hegemony plotline in in the land of giants and the resistance will be pretty involved in upcoming chapters (and are already there, please come read it i have essays). moving on.

the short answer is... there is no short answer. it's complicated. the hegemony, per canon, is a strict caste-based, totalitarian oligarchy with complete control over every aspect of life underneath them. you can't work with batarians without addressing the hegemony somehow. there's going to be a lot of messy politics, and wildly varying opinions towards the resistance (there's going to be a lot of people who think it's not worth fighting! let them kill themselves off! why are you going to so much effort!), and very heavy topics that need a lot of care to portray sensitively. the hegemony is very clearly based on very real regimes that killed a lot of people and left a lot of lasting damage. a lot of where i started looking at batarians with a sympathetic lens is from talking to a friend of mine who lives in brazil and saw a lot of their own experiences reflected in the batarians, and quite a few other regimes there are still people alive who remember living under them are obvious inspiration for bioware as well (stalinist ussr is the most obvious, but there's definitely aspects of mussolini's italy and north korea as well, to name a few). accordingly, i've been doing my best to approach the topic sensitively; literally the most important thing i can stress with working with batarians is do your research. there's an awful lot of nuance to consider, and boiling it down to basic "good guy rebels vs evil government" does it a serious disservice.

that out of the way, let's get into it after the cut. i'm going to preface this with a disclaimer that a lot of this is my own work and i am not comfortable with others using it without permission. nothing against you personally i just have some bad experiences with people "taking inspiration" from me and literally just lifting my shit whole-cloth without asking me and only crediting me in a separate place away from the actual fic, lol. so anything with specific names or timelines or just anything that's me speculating and not found in canon is not free to use, kthx.

anyway.

in order to write a resistance against the hegemony, you have to start with actually writing the hegemony. yeah i know i know nobody wants to put too much effort into the slaver assholes, but it's important. and we do actually have some canon details about how the hegemony functions, so Reading The Wiki actually a pretty good place to start! based on what (admittedly not a lot) we know about the hegemony, they're a totalitarian oligarchy where the richest rule. you can potentially buy your way to a higher caste if you make enough money, but it's very difficult, and they're incredibly cutthroat. basically, life under the hegemony is very every man for himself.

this is to the upper castes' advantage! aggressive enforcement of the status quo by the higher-ups, using fear and violence as weapons, not only works very well to oppress the lower castes, but it also encourages people to turn on each other and rat each other out. you're unlikely to find a lot of camaraderie among average batarians - if anyone could turn you in to the cops, you're not gonna trust anybody, and that's gonna go a long way to keeping people under the upper castes' thumbs. we can even reasonably infer that family members are encouraged to report on each other - it's happened irl! it's super useful! nobody trusts each other, everyone's afraid of surveillance, nobody is safe. building up any sort of resistance movement is going to be incredibly difficult anywhere the hegemony can listen.

further, it's canon that the hegemony very tightly controls the flow of information in and out of their borders, and that includes information about the other species and life outside the hegemony. keeping the population ignorant makes them easier to control, after all. this is a known and very common tactic in authoritarian regimes. the common batarian living within hegemony borders believes that their way of life is best, this is how things are meant to be, and all the aliens are lesser beings and basically savages, so it's best to just listen to the hegemony and do as you're told and never ever leave :) why would you want to leave when this is the best possible life for you :) most batarians aren't going to be aware that there's anything wrong with the dystopian horror they're living in, because it's all they've ever known and all they can know. so odds of the lower castes all realizing they're being oppressed and agreeing "fuck that" together are uhhh slim to none, to say the least. this shit goes very deep, and the hegemony has been in place for centuries, so they've had a lot of time to root themselves in the populace's collective heads as Good And Correct And The Only Way To Live.

so, okay, let's leave the hegemony. easy right? wrong. sure, omega has no rules, but that means you're unlikely to find a lot of help if the hegemony decides to drag your ass back. you're still going to have to stay vigilant for spies and trackers and unfriendly tech, assuming they're not going to just up and kill you (which is probably more likely, even - out in terminus, nobody looks twice at somebody getting ganked, but a kidnapping will draw more attention, and then you've got martyrs, and nobody wants those). outside hegemony space, you're going to run into two main flavors of batarian:

batarians who were born under the hegemony, but no longer live there. these can be divided further into batarians who are still loyal to the hegemony for one reason or another (money, habit, blackmail), and those who have cut ties. either they managed to escape somehow, they were let go willingly and decided never to go back, or somebody else took them out of hegemony space.

batarians who were not. these will then be divided into those who still work with the hegemony (we know they pay good, after all) and those who want nothing to do with them.

of those four groups, you're going to have to make a hell of a pitch to get allies for any budding resistance movement - the hegemony are seen as an omnipresent evil in terminus, but one you can live with as long as you don't do anything stupid. keep your head down, or take their money even, and you'll probably be okay. they're a big damn government with a wide territory and lots of guns, and we know canonically that they have a lot of tech and stuff that they don't even share with the rest of the galaxy because they're paranoid and selfish, so "just stay out of their way" is going to be a very, very popular method of dealing with them.

oh, and remember what i said about hegemony info diets? yeah. culture shock once you're out is gonna be a bitch. we're talking near-catatonia levels of existential crisis here.

"what about the citadel," you may ask. great question! fair point! we can in fact reasonably infer that the vast majority of citadel species, with the exception of the asari with their """indentured servitude""" and possibly the hanar depending on how far down the rabbit hole of the hanar-drell relationship you feel like going down with me, are very anti-slavery and would support going against the hegemony! except, unfortunately, it's more complicated than that, because the batarians were the fourth species to reach the citadel, can be inferred to have been the "peacekeepers" of the galaxy prior to the uplifting of the krogan (yes i have textbooks of batarian history no we're not getting into it right now go read bitw), and in general are a big damn nuisance that the council don't want to risk war with right at the moment. "but there's more of them then there are of the hegemony!" yeah and you know how many of them are actually capable of war? the turians. das it. until the alliance start getting in slapfights with the hegemony, the turians are the only species really capable of waging war to any meaningful extent, and supporting the resistance in any way, even just allowing them to Exist on the citadel, would cause a lot of trouble for the council that they simply aren't able to deal with while the batarians still have their embassy on the station. remember what i said about politics? yeah you came and asked tumblr user sparatus about this there's so much xenopolitics involved in why the hegemony haven't been wiped off the map yet i made this field up but it's my passion--

ahem. does this sound like more effort than it's worth yet? good. that's the point.

in short: getting any sort of resistance movement going with any degree of traction is going to be incredibly difficult. there's very few places to run, getting recruits who are at least mostly sane will be like pulling teeth, and you're basically on your own. it's even fair to assume that resistance movements have happened in the past and failed. the hegemony are large and in charge, and yeah sure they're falling down on themselves and a shadow of their former selves but that makes them more dangerous because, as we can see in canon, that pride makes them aggressive and very determined not to show weakness or let anyone know how bad things are getting. taking them down is an uphill battle in the blinding snow and brother, the resistance are a beat-up rear-wheel drive with no snow tires and a faulty fuel injector.

no, i don't make metaphors that make sense. i write about political intrigue and the comics characters, it's obscure bullshit or bust over here.

obviously that's not all to say a resistance movement is impossible. i have one myself, hi how ya doin read my fic. that's all just set up. to write a resistance movement against a massive, well-entrenched regime like the hegemony, you first have to have a good, solid idea of what they're resisting against, and all the factors getting in their way. it's hard! it's difficult! it's true to how these things tend to work out in real life!

here's how i have things set up for my own work (again, keep in mind this work is not free to use):

the hegemony's fall from grace following their defeat by the rachni and their job as the main military might being usurped by the krogan and later turians has led to infighting and cannibalizing each other. as conditions steadily declined and the bad parts of the bad system got worse, what was previously a sustainable dystopia spiraled downwards into a ticking timebomb. the conclave (the "senate" which is now effectively no longer elected running everything, the top caste) is inbred to hell and back, because you can't possibly marry outside your caste, and the question of nonviability is becoming a when, not an if.

the arrival of the alliance and the council's apparent "favoritism" (read: not simply letting the hegemony have their way, because no you're both breaking laws actually please just shut up and sit down for mediation) has destabilized their standing in galactic society, causing their retreat further into isolation. this is making everything worse. things fall apart.

some senators within the conclave, particularly senators shahok khor'berran and morem kednelok, have recognized the hegemony is barrelling towards its breaking point and are looking for reform.

morvarn taryn, a cop in dasrak (the capital city, btw i will always be salty bioware didn't even give khar'shan a CANON CAPITAL CITY), has always struggled with having more empathy than a man of his caste is supposed to have. this gets him in trouble when dealing with a krogan slave that keeps breaking confinement, wragg, because damn that poor guy's really fucked up huh. (this also gets into alien slavery and that whole quagmire, but that's a different essay), but he doesn't really actually question the regime fully until a friend of his, air force lieutenant tarvok shad'derah, comes by the bar one day clearly in pain, and morvarn convinces him to come to his apartment for treatment and finds tarvok and his squad have been subjected to sapient experimentation without anaesthesia and the wounds have been left exposed.

the shad'derahs are a prominent family line due to their ancestor rothok being the second spectre in history and a close friend of gurji beelo. further, as a military officer tarvok is roughly the same caste as morvarn, and they both should be spared from this kind of treatment. the fact that even their middle-tier caste isn't enough to keep them from being seen as tools and objects radicalizes morvarn, but he doesn't realize it yet.

he brings his concerns to a close friend. friend happens to be senator shahok, who sees an opportunity and agrees with morvarn that either things need to change, or the hegemony will fall, and perhaps it needs to for their own survival as a species.

several months pass, with much thinking and discussing of what to do. tarvok disagrees that anything needs to change, and insists this is just the way things are, but morvarn's compassion sticks with him until a fateful mission rattles him, and the hegemony's plan to subject his younger brother thrajul to the same treatment he's had convinces him it's time to leave.

shit happens, blah blah blah, morvarn and tarvok end up fleeing khar'shan with a small group of supporters and also non-supporters who have no other choice but to go with. they run to omega and spend a few months trying to sort themselves out before deciding to keep trying to rescue friends and family from the hegemony.

this evolves into other batarians seeking their help getting their own loved ones out, raiding slavers, deep-cover missions, etc etc, until they're actually a proper resistance movement. they even make non-batarian friends, including gurji taeja, beelo's descendant who has a familial loyalty to the shad'derahs because salarians have like a whole thing about that.

there is no true plan for taking down the conclave, because how the fuck are they supposed to do that

and that's how exdiff and the whole x57 and resulting hegemony plotline tie in, because x57 kicks off the hegemony gearing up for war properly and once [REDACTED] then well the hegemony's the only problem left to deal with and hey look there's this whole group of guys with very intimate knowledge of what to do with them and some guys on the inside,

i have a fic planned for the actual downfall it's called carrion men and i am GOING to outline it next year so maybe i can get started writing it for camp nano or proper nano

..... oh my god this is so much. i am so sorry to anybody whose phone this fucking destroys trying to load it. but also not really. my m.e. big bang fic was an entire treatise of political intrigue and speculation on potential asari supremacy conspiracy, you don't come to me for concise answers on xenopolitical things. anyway hello i have put a completely normal and reasonable amount of work into the hegemony and the resistance and batarians in general

[entitled-fangirl]

As long as she's comfortable.

Cregan Stark x reader

SMUT

18+ bruh

Summary: Cregan helps the reader overcome her guilt of needing to please him at all times.

Warnings: Dom!Cregan, p in v, fingering, turns non-con for a moment, idk this is slutty as hell

A/n: This is based on an ask! and this.

Masterlist

ADULT ACTIVITIES UNDER THE CUT GUYS

.......................................................................

She buried her face in Cregan's neck as she let out a low groan. 

His fingers had been buried inside her longer than she wanted them to be. 

But he had to guarantee she was ready for him.

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had been married a couple months now, and they were as deeply in love as they were on their wedding. 

"Cregan…" she whispered in his neck.

He let out a low groan, "I know, I know."

He pulled his hand from her with a grin, "Sit up."

Her brows furrow, "Wh… Cregan…?"

"I know." He twists an arm around her back to help her sit up, "It's a bit different. But, do trust me."

She nodded and pulled herself up as he had asked.

"Now, on your knees, back to me."

"But then I cannot see you."

He lets out a light chuckle, "Trust me. You'll still feel me all the same."

Confused, she pushes herself to her knees, turning around and looking over her shoulder at him, "And what now?"

"Up onto your knees completely, now."

"Up? Onto…" She pulled her body up onto her knees on the furs.

He let out a coo of praise, "Good. Like that. Elbows on the bed."

"No. Cregan, what…?"

His hand came from behind her to the side of her hip, "Elbows down, pretty."

"I'll feel ridiculous."

He pushed himself up onto his knees, pulling her against his chest, "Have I ever made you feel that way?"

"Well, no-"

"-Then why would I now?" His hand moved from her waist to her stomach and she felt that familiar feeling return to her core as his hand trailed lower. 

She let out a soft groan and moved her hands to the bed, lowering her elbows down to the bed. 

Cregan let out a sinful groan as he leaned back to look at her now, "Fuck."

His hands now wandering to her arse in front of him, chuckling when she let out a small squeak.

One hand dipped lower, entering a finger into her once more. 

A soft breath escaped her and she shifted on her arms.

"Feels different this way, doesn't it?" Cregan cooed. 

She let out a shaky nod, "So… so good, Cregan."

He pulled his hand from her. He took her hips in his hands and began to line himself up with her, "Just like usual, pretty. Easy does it."

As he slowly moved into her, she let out an immediate moan. The stretch burned like it always did but at a new angle. 

Cregan groaned not long after her, bottoming out quickly, his tailbone meeting the back of hers. 

She could feel his breath in her hair. His voice was low and hushed now that was near her ear, "You alright?"

Her eyes closed for a moment and she hummed, "yeah… you can… please…"

A soft kiss was placed as the back of her ear before he began to move. 

A sharp intake of breath and her mouth was left agape and the new angle he stretched in her. 

Cregan's eyes screwed shut, savoring the slow rhythm he set. 

"Cr… please… please faster…"

He began to move faster, their moans drowning out the sound of his hips thrusting against hers.

Cregan pulls his torso away from her to hold her hips steady and properly thrust into her. 

She let out a downright scream at it.

"Gods, this is…" Cregan paused, "This is per… You are perfect."

"Don't stop… Don't-"

"I'm not stopping until we're done," he growled. 

The moans filled the large chamber of Winterfell, not caring if the servant and staff heard a word of it. 

They were newly-weds. The entire castle had heard the two of them at some point. 

Cregan couldn't even name every surface they had fucked on.

There was a point in it every time that Cregan grew rather primal, eagerly chasing his high once it felt manageable. 

He was there as of now. 

He grunted as his thrusts quickened. 

The quickening had lost her. 

Her head snapped up to look at the headboard. 

"So good. So good." He groaned. 

Her brows pinched together, now noting the uncomfortable feeling. The sweat that gleamed on her forehead and the clammy feeling of skin on skin. 

"Doing alright, pretty?" He asked in a pant. 

She grunted and nodded, staring at the headboard of their bed. 

She can't tell him. 

His movements continue and she bares them, taking them each thrust at a time. 

Her arms were growing tired, her knees aching. 

Her mother, when giving her the speech about marital acts, told her never to make demands of a man in bed. To be a wife is to take what he gives you willingly. 

Giving Cregan whatever he wanted was not a hard task. 

It shouldn't be a hard task. 

A moan came from him, "Gods, pretty, I'm close."

She quietly thanked the gods. 

He leaned up against her back, reaching forward and running his hand down her arm. His fingers brushed the back of her hand, and when they reached her fingers, he interlocked them, grabbing at the furs underneath them. 

The hands are directly below her head, and she rests her forehead on them. 

Her breathing is staggered as she tries to collect herself. 

His hips buck roughly once, and she lets out a hiccup.

The tipping point. 

Cregan feels a single tear drip onto his hand.

His hips come to a stop. "Wait."

She sniffles against his hand, "No, no. Keep going."

He lets out a disapproving hum, "C'mere. Let me see you."

When he tries to pull his hand from hers, her other hand tries to grip it. She lays desperate kisses on the top of his hand, "It's fine. Please."

He grunts, pulling himself from her to sit back on his legs with a concerned gaze.

She lays unmoving, as if waiting for a punishment of sorts. 

"I said c'mere, lovely."

She looks down at her hands which now begin to shake. 

One of his hands moved to her hip, pushing and knocking her onto her side before he crawled onto her and trapped her on her bed. 

Her eyes were red and puffy with unshed tears. 

"Why are you upset?" He asked in concern.

"I'm not," she lied. "These are… these are good tears."

His hand moved her up to caress her cheek, rubbing a thumb over the skin as he searched in her eyes, "These are not the same tears."

"No, it's-"

"-If you did not enjoy it, why did you not tell me?" He said with a furrowed brow.

"I did!" She whined. "Well… I was."

A silence filled them before he sighed and nodded his head, "But I got carried away."

She shook her head, "No, no." She reached out and pulled her face to him, "You should keep going." She connected her lips with his desperately.

He let out an angered groan as he pulled himself away from her, sitting up and further from her with an offended gaze, "How dare you!"

She sat up with him. Her hand reached to the furs, beginning to pull them up to cover her breasts, "You were so close, and we can still-"

"NO!" He yelled.

She gasped sharply and flinched as more hot tears came to her eyes, "I don't understand."

"Why ever would you…?" He stood from the bed in anger and began to redress. "Why would you ever let me do that to you?"

"I am trying to be a good wife!" She yelled.

"I am trying to be a good husband!" He yelled back in the same manner. 

The room went quiet, save for the sounds of her sobs echoing off the walls. 

They were driving him crazy. 

He continued dressing, now in his trousers. He bit his lip with a sigh. His voice softened, "Did you… Did you enjoy it at all?"

"I did." She sniffled, "I did… at the beginning."

"I am not mad at you for not liking it." He finally said. 

"Then why… why are you yelling at me?" 

His anger flared up again, "Because you…" He forced himself to take a deep breath and speak again with a softer and lower tone, "I do not understand your reasoning for trying to continue even after you found no pleasure."

Her brows furrowed and her mouth opened and closed a few times trying to find the right words, "Pleasure is not… what I'm… for."

His head cocked to the side as he neared the bed, "I'm sorry?"

"No, that is not right." She looked up in thought. "I am here.. to please you. And that is all."

He wanted to scoff. He wanted to laugh, even. What a stupid thought. But he kept an even head and sat on the bed, facing her, "Do you truly believe that?"

She wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and she nodded.

Cregan couldn't stop the long sigh that escaped him. He wasn't actually expecting this answer. He ran a hand over the bottom half of his face. 

The silence became all consuming.

Finally, his voice was softer than she'd ever heard it.

"How horrible of a man would I be if every time I looked at my child, I remembered the time I impregnated my wife while she sat in tears?"

His eyes trailed up slowly to meet hers, a hollow look in his eyes. 

She couldn't will herself to even open her mouth at that. 

His hand slowly reached out to hers, squeezing it. "If you lose pleasure while we are intimate, you must tell me."

She shook her head in confusion, "I… I don't understand."

His voice grew gruffer, "Who told you that you couldn't tell me? What ever gave you that impression?"

"Well, it's not-"

"Have I ever denied a wish from you?"

"Well, no-"

He leaned in closer, "Have I ever been angered about something that you want?"

"No-"

"Do you not trust me?"

"Cregan, I do-"

"Then where did this come from?"

Their faces close now, she could study ever freckle on his face. She didn't want to tell him. She really didn't. 

He raised his brows, "Well?"

"My mother."

An immediate sigh escaped him again, "Ah."

She bit her cheek, still waiting for a punishment of some sort.

He leaned the rest of the way and kissed her cheek, "How about a bath?"

"A bath?" She asked in confusion.

"We should clean ourselves. I want to bathe with you." He leans down to catch her eyes with his, "Is that alright?"

She couldn't help the small smile that rose to her lips, "Yes. That… that sounds nice."

…

She felt herself completely relaxed against Cregan's chest in the tub, the water warm and calming.

His fingers traced patters on her forearm softly. 

"Forgive me," he finally whispered.

She hummed, "Why?"

"I did not even noticed you were not comfortable. Too lost in myself. I vow to be more giving to you-"

"You are very giving to me, Cregan, I promise."

"Let me earn your trust back."

She let out a soft chuckle against him, "Fine. Fine, yes. Yes, you may."

A chuckle came from his chest. "Thank you."

Another soft silence.

"I do not want you to listen to you mum anymore." Cregan spoke out to the silence. "What she said was wrong. And I'm quite ashamed that you even believe it. As if I would do such a thing to you."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Listen to me now," he hummed against her ear. "You can tell me what you want. When to stop. Where to move. Yes, I want heirs. But not over your own pleasure." His voice lowered, "If you told me in this moment to never touch you again, I would respect it. Heir or no heir, you're my wife. I do not care for the rest of things even remotely as much."

A grin tugged at her lips and her hand dipped under the water to find his hand, "I can tell you anything?"

He followed her train of thought and chuckled, a husky tone coming to his voice in her ear, "I'll do whatever you want me to do." His grin grew, "How about tonight… I do anything you want?"

Her eyes lit up, "Anything I want?"

He kissed the back of her ear gently, "Anything."

A giggle erupted from her lips and she turned herself around in the tub to look at him, "Get up, then."

His eyebrows shot up, "Now?"

She leaned to him, kissing him softly, "Now. I have much in mind."

Cregan found himself turned on suddenly by this demanding girl that had taken over his wife.

And he wouldn't complain one bit.

As long as she's comfortable.

.........................................................

Tag: @snowsilverlining

[formleadsfunction]

still thinking about the very correct post abt how discussions abt good gms always leave out austin underscore walker, and it's honestly just fucking bleak.

fatt has been around for a decade at this point, if you're gonna Do The Thing where you talk about different gms and how great they are, it's nigh impossible you haven't heard of fatt. and yeah, hieron started out rough, audio quality-wise, but the "inaccessible" excuse rly just does sound like An Excuse when you consider that a) cr puts out 4+ hour videos that are unedited, b) for some stuff like d20 you straight-up have to pay, and c) marielda as a starting point has been around for fucking years.

like you can't praise the gm qualities of taz without at least acknowledging that austin had a huge influence on said gming.

and don't you feel fucking stupid praising the odd queer character of some other shows when fatt has a (correct me if i'm wrong) exclusively queer cast cast that's almost exclusively queer (sorry Art, i forgot abt you, I don't think you ever talked about being queer) including multiple trans people + seasons filled with really cool representation of just about every identity you can think of? like even when fatt folks fuck up with their rep (counter/weight...), they actually sit down and talk about it afterwards, and then you get the joy of seeing them go above and beyond and Do Better

like it rly is just how that one tag on the post that got me thinking abt this said - sorry austin isn't a straight white guy who just gets a little fruity with it sometimes, i guess

[taintedcigs]

we’d still worship this love — e.m.

part two of even if it’s a false god.

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!

summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)

a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!

Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.

He had fucked up.

So badly.

He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.

“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.

Robin.

“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.

He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.

He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.

He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone. 

2 HOURS LATER

DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry

DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear

DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me

DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come

DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this. 

You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.

You blocked this contact. 

“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.

“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.

“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.

“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.

“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.

You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.

Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—” 

Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth. 

You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid. 

But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that. 

But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved. 

The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door. 

The three of you looked at each other in unison.

Shit.

Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here? 

You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door. 

As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly. 

“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak. 

“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look. 

“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold. 

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back. 

“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered. 

“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.

But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie. 

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.

Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle. 

“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off. 

“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt. 

“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger. 

“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred. 

His drunkenness made you more angry.

“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.  

“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground. 

“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help. 

“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you. 

1 MONTH LATER:

Thirty fucking days.

Eddie was going to lose his mind. 

Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.

He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.

Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.

Until he made it to the party.

Until he finally saw you.

With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—

His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore. 

“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole. 

You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing? 

Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him. 

You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes. 

“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.

You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze. 

“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides. 

You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side. 

“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening. 

“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth. 

Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.

“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks. 

This asshole. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.

You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”

You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile. 

“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm. 

You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room. 

“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face. 

He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”

“None of your business.” You hissed.

“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”

“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over. 

“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger. 

“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.

“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.

You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.

Fucking jerk.

You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.

“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing. 

“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.

You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.

“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…

“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.

But you can’t help it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated. 

“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took. 

“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.

“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you. 

“Yes!” You snapped. 

“Then show me.” He challenged. 

“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you. 

Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.

And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know. 

And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips. 

“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 

He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it. 

But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing. 

Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time. 

You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.

His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you. 

Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ. 

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising. 

Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time. 

He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment. 

He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you. 

You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you. 

Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs. 

His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance. 

You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.” 

But he didn’t move an inch.

That greedy bastard. 

“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient. 

Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised. 

“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body. 

You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good. 

But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch. 

And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time. 

He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing. 

“Please,” You begged. 

“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.

“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more. 

With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds. 

“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched. 

But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay. 

You just needed to feel good. 

“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more. 

Baby. 

He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does. 

He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say. 

But he’s sure you will never let him. 

“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.

That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance. 

The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you. 

He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans. 

“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.

You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.  

“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.  

“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth. 

“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.

You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.  

You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more. 

He was making you greedy. 

God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad. 

He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered. 

You ignored his taunting while you begged for more. 

“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.

And it was a huge mistake.

He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you. 

And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you. 

He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could. 

“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful. 

“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 

You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it. 

“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you. 

He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly. 

You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled. 

“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.  

“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.

“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear. 

Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.

But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good. 

“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences. 

“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.  

You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess. 

It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed. 

“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling. 

“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.

“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created. 

“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.

"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”

“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.

“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.

“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest. 

He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind. 

Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again. 

You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up. 

His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim. 

“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close. 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time. 

A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe. 

He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge. 

“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath. 

You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you. 

This was the last time. 

And you needed to leave. 

As soon as possible.

And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever. 

You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed. 

“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible. 

You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it’s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear. 

And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it. 

“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded. 

“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.

“I lied,” He was quick to reply. 

“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.

“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined. 

“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.

You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind. 

“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.

But he doesn’t let you finish. 

“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.” 

You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly. 

“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.

Just one more fucking chance.

“What good will it do?” You whispered.

“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need. 

“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.

“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.” 

“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.

“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused. 

“So?” He shrugged.

“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”

“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.

He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.

You were afraid of getting hurt.

You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.

You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.

You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.

If you didn’t leave now, you never could.

“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door. 

Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up. 

He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration. 

He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.

Forever.

But did he have to? 

Did he need to be a fucking coward again? 

Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt? 

Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you. 

“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch. 

He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you. 

You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs. 

“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks. 

“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind. 

He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?” 

“I need to talk to you.” He said. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.

“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed. 

“Please, Y/N.” 

“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.

He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head. 

“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.

You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.” 

You’d never seen him like this before.

Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.

And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.

You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.

“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.

How the fuck did he read you that easily?

“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.

“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.

You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.

Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them. 

“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.

“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.

“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.

You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate. 

“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain. 

Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.

“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.

You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him. 

“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.

“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s. 

“I—You do?” You stuttered.

“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen. 

“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back. 

“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered. 

You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose. 

“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples. 

God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.

Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”

His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?

“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”

You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.

It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.

Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.

“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.

He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.

Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?

You nodded, affirming him.

“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.

“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.

“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.

“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.

“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.

“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.

“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.

“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.

And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.

[mywitchcultblr]

I find it amusing how some anonymous users call you a hater and a child throwing a tantrum (as if sending hateful messages wasn't). How can they be so blind to this?

The DLC writing is dogshit at best, and I am being generous. FromSoftware not only butchered Miquella's character but other things too. What happened to him wanting to cure his and Malenia's curse? There's no mention of that. The Haligtree—supposedly a home for the shunned and mistreated? Nothing. Granting Godwyn a true death? Nada. The Eclipse? Pfff. The Outer gods and the unalloyed gold? What about him being Torrent's former master? (As the promotional art implied) And the steed choosing the Tarnished? If I recall correctly, wasn't Torrent meant to pick lords? So this means Miquella trusted Torrent enough to let it choose him a consort, yet our role there is practically non-existent. Besides that, as far as I'm concerned, for one to become a god, one must be in contact with the Elden Ring, such as Ranni did, yet we don't see that in the DLC. And the thing that bugs me the most is Miquella abandoning parts of himself, like his love. Like, yeah, "Age of Compassion," but there's something you need for that and it is, y'know, love??? Where's the sense in that? Wasn't the whole point of him become a god and fix Marika's mess in the Lands Between? Not following her steps.

I'm not even going to mention Radahn because his presence here is as irrelevant as in the game.

THANK YOU ANON! Finally someone with sense! People who are saying "Oh you are just angry because the DLC doesnt confirm your headacanon or expectation." The expectation exist because of hints and lore that already exist in the base game, of course you will want to see the big pay off in Shadow. Imagine if you are Dr. Who fan and seeing 13th Doctor turned into a weeping angel but then in the next episode it doesn't go anywhere and she's immediately fine again

I will list others things that aggravate me about SOTE

The battle between Malenia and Radahn: In the base game, their battle is implied to be over runes, and because he was halting the stars and thus Miquella's fate. Malenia invaded Caelid to get Radahn's rune and solving the halted fate business, while general boi also wanting to accumulate more power so he can be Elden Lord with taking hers. Simple but effective.

But now its over a marriage with Miquella?

While it made sense for him to ally with the Haligtree so Radahn can get into the fast track of becoming Elden Lord through marrying Miquella, there's 0 build up anywhere in the base that will led us to believe Radahn even got to do anything with Miquella.

Also while he is a warmonger and certainly not a good person (I dont care what chuds on reddit said, just because a guy likes his horse that doesnt make him nice, I don't even hate Radahn or anything) he genuinely cares about HIS OWN HOLDING.

Now from what I gather from the DLC, he will agree to become Miquella's consort if he got an epic battle first. So now the motivation for Malenia vs Radahn iconic battle is... It was a deadly sparring ritual before the groom settle down? Radahn can you at least do it in a neutral zone so this battle wont destroy your OWN LAND?! There's no way Radahn didn't know that sparring with Malenia could endanger Caelid, especially with the fact that she has ROT. Radahn might be a brute archetype but he's not stupid, yet this DLC made him looks like an absolute oaf who doesn't care about whatever Caelid will survive or not...

2. Mohg: I always thought he will return, he gives me the vibe of a villain who say "I'll be back!" and I thought there's no way the Formless Mother will allow her champion to die just like that. Yeah he's back but in the worst way possible that will make his fans despairing and his haters say "I hate Mohg but he didn't deserve this."

His arc in the base is good, it is conclusive and it made sense.

A guy who was born hated, abused, and shunned by his own mother decided to say FUCK IT and created his own order, cavorting with an Outer God, committed heresy left and right, then kidnapped his half brother so he can force/convince/manipulate/doing blood ritual whatever so Miquella will make him a consort. Then the Tarnished ruined his plan, killed him. It was a well-rounded arc. Its good enough. I always admired his tenacity to give a middle finger to his family. But now? This weird over engineered brainwashing-kidnapping thing undermined the authority of both Mohg and the Formless Mother. Did she even care about Mohg? Why the Formless Mother didn't try to stop Miquella or at least warned Mohg about it?

And what the fuck Mohg is actually doing down there? What was his plan to elevate his order and replace Marika's? How he will do it if he never wanted to become Miquella's consort? With his drip alone? Maybe there are things that I missed about Mohg's plan in the DLC?? But this DLC narrative now undermined his arc and the Formless Mother.

3. Mesmer: While he is still intriguing and judging from youtube (No i havent reach him personally, because you know I'm busy but I spoiled myself, I always do for something as big as BG3 or Souls) I thought he would play a bigger role in Shadow, but not really? He's kinda overshadowed by Radahn who is not supposed to be there

Also Rellana's existence sounds like a sitcom level plot twist? Its kinda funny LMAO "Oh you think Renalla's boss fight sucks and you think she is weak? HERE WE HAVE HER TWIN SISTER RELLANA! ITS THE UPGRADED VERSION OF CARIA 1.0!" (I do like the expansion and exploration of the Carian's family tho)

4. "What about him being Torrent's former master? (As the promotional art implied) And the steed choosing the Tarnished? If I recall correctly, wasn't Torrent meant to pick lords? So this means Miquella trusted Torrent enough to let it choose him a consort, yet our role there is practically non-existent." : THIS YOU ARE SO RIGHT ANON, Torrent chose the Tarnished and Miquella asked Ranni to give the spirit calling bell to whoever Torrent chose. THAT'S MEAN THE TARNISHED ALREADY HAS A CONNECTION WITH MIQUELLA, I'm willing to bet over my right arm, this Promised Lord that Miquella/Malenia mentioned is either supposed to be Godwyn or THE TARNISHED THEMSELVES!

Look Miquella need a lord strong enough to back his claim and help him to change the world right? Why insisting on chasing after Radahn (that never mentioned to have any connection or alliance with Miquella) WHEN YOU CAN HAVE THE GUY WHO DEFEATED RADAHN AND MALENIA THEMSELVES! The Tarnished is already strong enough to challenge MOTHER FUCKING GODFREY and won! It make 0 sense for us not able to become his consort. What do you mean you can make the dream of a guy who is literally called THE DUNG EATER came true and subjugated everyone into a world of pain because shit eater is an edgelord who thinks omens and their suffering are totally cool, but not MIQUELLA'S? Its so bullshit. In the grand scheme of things, Dung Eater is as relevant as a random Tibia Mariner.

I'm still hoping we can see Miquella's ending, I hope its gonna be added. I saw someone mentioned that there's actually Miquella's ending but not implemented? I hope it can be added and at least some aspect of the missing story/plothole fixed, because Elden Ring 1.0 was quite different than what we have now...

This guy on reddit also echoed my statement

5. Godwyn: I don't care what some people said "Oh Godwyn is not supposed to be there, its just your headcanon." Brother... This DLC is about Miquella and Mesmer (even though sadly Mesmer's role seems to be diminished :/) there's should be any mention about Godwyn because Miquella and Malenia loves him very much.

There's a statue of them hugging each other, and if I'm not mistaken there were people who data mined and found tidbits about Miquella trying to resurrect him and there's stuff about Miquella giving up his throne

Show us Miquella failed to resurrect Godwyn, show dont tell! (so it wont impact Fia's ending) or please give us a mentions about him by Miquella, or knights who used to serve pre-dead and rotting Godwyn appearing in Lands of Shadow, something, anything! its like his own family, doesn't give a fuck to solve the problem that his rotting body caused.

6. The gloam eyed queen and Melina: I thought GEQ will be mentioned, since this DLC also delved into Marika's past, I mean GEQ was her rival and she's nearly becoming THE God instead of Marika. But eh nothing about her or Melina :/ Tho I do like tidbits about Marika's past and her village

There's other things... But eh I'm tired of typing lol. I do enjoy Elden Ring, I really do, and I had such a high expectation for SOTE :/ so yeah I became loud about my disappointment because I'm invested

[puckpocketed]

ok the stick story is this

according to The Hockey Media, who as we know do not actually follow any teams closely so know NOTHING, ovechkin was finally hit by father time. he's finally slowing down. he's a shell of his old self. he has old man syndrome. blah blah blah

as a caps fan, i know that this is false, because our russian machine never break. he's a freak. who btw had like 13 goals disallowed or something crazy like that in the first half of last season but i digress

gee i wonder why ovechkin's goals went down? is it because his longtime center and future hall of famer nicklas backstrom retired in all but name? is it because our other top 6 center in evgeny kuznetsov had by far the worst season of his career (from point a game to not even half a point a game) and then went into the player's assistance program before being traded to the canes and then bolting for the KHL?

actually, as it turns out: no.

i mean probably those were factors, but there was another factor. a factor that many caps fans are very aware of but almost no one reported on for some reason (probably because they were too busy writing about how SiDneY CrOsBy was having SuCh an AmaZiNg season for a 36 year old despite ovechkin literally having just as a good a season the year prior at the *checks notes* age of 36. also this is a reminder that one of those two actually led their team to a playoff berth and it wasn't crosby)

ovechkin is, among other things, an elite shooter. like many elite shooters, he is EXTREMELY picky about his sticks. he has been using the same CCM model for the last 7 seasons...and prior to this season they discontinued it.

the first half of the season (roughly), ovi was constantly trying out new sticks from CCM, from Bauer, whoever. he tried quite a few different sticks. results: 8 goals in 43 games.

then, ovechkin found an independent supplier. apparently (i can't remember where this info came out, maybe 32 thoughts?), these guys have an "ovi pro curve" model based on his old stick with CCM and he bought it and tried it out. curve was identical, and it felt right to him. started using those. results: 23 goals in 36 games.

am i saying that he is going to continue on that pace this coming season? probably not. do i think that the rumors of his demise as a goal scorer are greatly exaggerated and almost surely mistaken? yes. am i optimistic that with some stability in our center depth and stability in stick choice, ovechkin will have a 40 goal season again and possibly break wayne gretzky's all time goals record? YES.

what this means for PLD our beloved failhorse wife: he's not getting some washed up old man former great on his wing. he's getting the greatest fucking goal scorer in the history of the sport. and i, for one, am excited to see what they can do together.

link i thought about this all morning during baking and while i was out!! thank you for the stick explanation and all the sources i LOVE citations i am eating them up like theyre cakes at teatime....! more under the cut but heres what i was thinking about when i read this:

thinking about how,, particular some players get about their equipment, how superstitious, it's crazy to me that a manufacturer can just do all that. if it were me and MYE special stick got discontinued id be suing for damages

i was super interested in what actually changed in the second half of the season because i saw ovechkin was back to scoring basically at-will again, so really thank you for explaining.. the bond between a hockey and their stick is so beaugtiful <3

cr-sby is my babygirl-in-law and i fear i will always be fond of him because of this, so i shall tread carefully here (pens friends look away) it DOES suck that they're not recognising your old man for his achievements while that old man gets hyped. is it like, weird anti-russian sentiment? or a more general anti-caps bias? every team fan space i dip into feels unfairly maligned one way or another - which, yeah! clenching my fist of rage.......

you spin such a tale and im VERY excited to see how next szn shakes out in light of all this and also . grabbing dubois by the scruff of his neck like i will stan either way but PLEASE dont embarrass me in front of my cool new friends kjlasdklasdkl....

thank you so much for stopping by and for the warmest welcome ever <3

[balleater]

i just want something to come up about the bright queen being older than ludinus in-game. i want them to have that moment of knowing that there was someone who was at least 200 at the Start of the calamity.

[utilitycaster]

This question is entirely in good faith: I’m currently watching campaign 2 for the first time, and you’ve said multiple times that you are a mighty nein girlie above all else. I am enjoying it, I think it’s fun and characters are great. But I find myself preferring campaign 1 more. I know this is a minority opinion as everyone loves campaign 2, but I just can’t really find myself embracing it the same way. What is it that draws you about the MN?

So I do want to preface this with the statement that I think it’s extremely valid to prefer Campaign 1 to Campaign 2. Plenty of people whom I respect do! The Mighty Nein happen to appeal to a lot of my sensibilities specifically but I don’t expect it to appeal to everyone else in the same way.

I also want to note that while it's true Campaign 2 is the fan favorite, firstly, the correct response if you prefer something that isn't the fan favorite is to commend yourself on rarified taste, and secondly, statistics are a funny thing. It's worth remembering that what you see as the Critical Role Active Fandom mostly doesn't include people who dearly loved Campaign 1, didn't like Campaign 2, and drifted away entirely in 2018; whereas people who loved C2 and didn't click with C3 are a little more likely to be around just because it's been less time and because there's more non-main-campaign stuff to hang around for (ie, people who haven't kept up with C3 might still have watched EXU Calamity or Downfall, or might be interested in Midst or Candela stuff, or are hanging out for TLOVM/Nein Animated reasons). You are not seeing Every Person Who Ever Liked Critical Role; you're seeing this segment in time.

ANYWAY. Getting to the actual point, I think Campaign 2 is my favorite because I think I take a fairly holistic view of fiction. I have my favorite characters and ships and themes and all that, but it is difficult for me to enjoy something if I don't enjoy a significant portion of it. I can't just watch for one blorbo, because the character should feel deeply rooted in a world, and have a plot that engages with who they are. This is what drew me to D&D and actual play in the first place!

Campaign 2 is the CR campaign that, in my opinion, achieves this to the highest degree. Hilariously, if you see the campaigns as a trilogy, while usually the middle of a trilogy gets slammed for being all moving pieces and no resolution, that actually works out great for a D&D game. Campaign 1 had the responsibility of introducing an entire world that was being built as the game went on (and introducing the players to TTRPGs); Campaign 3 is the realization of all that plot set up. Campaign 2 gets to explore, build out the world, and delve into characters who are inextricable from their setting, and that's what I love.

I started with Campaign 2, but decided to start catching up on Campaign 1 concurrently as I watched C2 week to week, and I started this quite early and finished C1 in about 4-5 months, and I happen to remember that I watched C2 episode 12 and an early Briarwoods Arc C1 episode back to back, and at the time, I preferred Campaign 1. Campaign 1 has its rocky starts, but the cast had already found their characters (even if the mechanics were being ironed out still) and there were very clear tasks. Early Campaign 2, while I still enjoy it, has a lot of milling about and aimless fucking around, and, understandably, the cast is still figuring a lot out. If you put, say, the Nein in Alfield next to Vox Machina at the Briarwoods Banquet? Yeah, one of these is stronger.

The thing is, that aimless fucking around led to character moments, which is the absolute heart of why the Nein are my favorites, and why I think many others love them as well. Without a clear mission or benefactor, this party had to figure out an identity and what they wanted to do, and in doing so, we got incredible moments between pretty much every party member. Vox Machina has no shortage of incredible conversations, but, for example, Keyleth and Scanlan just straight up don't interact one-on-one very much. You can't point to something like that in the Nein. I also think the fact that none of the characters knew each other terribly well helped with this. I've brought that up to contrast with the bonds in Campaign 3; it's not a bad thing to have a person your character comes in with and knows well, but much as I adore a twins conversation, the reason those conversations are so good are because Vex and Vax both spend a lot of time with other people as well. With the Mighty Nein, everyone has to do that because really, with Yasha gone half the time and then with Molly's death early on, we've got Fjord and Jester (have known each other like a month longer than anyone else) and Caleb and Nott (six-ish months and they're both hiding a lot.)

I really do get if people prefer that Vox Machina has two clear missions (with plenty of fuck around time built in) to start, the show-stopping Briarwoods arc next, and then the Chroma Conclave, especially watching after the fact - I am not sure how C2 is if you binge it vs. watch week to week, and it may suffer from a binge watch whereas C1 honestly might benefit. But the payoff is so great; you do not get the interpersonal relationships the Nein eventually have with each other without that early need for them to set their own direction.

Moving on from there, I love the setting of Wildemount and how much slow travel there is (which, to be fair, Vox Machina didn't have because that was all pre-stream; the Nein started teleporting at level 9 and Campaign 1 starts with the party at level 8). I love, as I mentioned, how tied to the continent everyone is and how relevant that is to most of their stories. I do think Molly's abrupt and unfair death early in the story is a crucial part of who the Nein are, and serves as a defining moment that is impossible to replicate but is very meaningful to me.

Also, and this is getting into some very idiosyncratic stuff: I love wizards and clerics and paladins and we get all those. I like gruff or overly formal characters with tragic backstories and good hearts and that's most of the party (unsurprisingly, Vex and Percy, in that order, are my favorite VM members). As someone who is constantly fighting the "Dump WIS not INT" fight, the fact that the Mighty Nein is fairly smart and has multiple characters specifically interested in history and politics and lore is right up my alley (the twins and Percy and Scanlan in C1 serve a similar purpose, and the fact that C3 doesn't have anyone really like this...shows).

I also like that the Mighty Nein are never famous, and I think some people don't like that. For all they are heroes of the Dynasty and end up with connections in the Empire, they aren't council members or tied to anyone specific, and this floating mercenary nature means they are setting their own pace. The only part where I think things get frustrating after some of the rockier early days is when they're hunting down Obann, and that's only a few episodes. While Molly's death is a defining moment, what is honestly a more defining moment is a few episodes earlier, when they decide against the multiple institutionally-backed job offers and decide to take a couple of jobs that will get them out of the city. I think it was jarring for people used to Vox Machina, with their duties to the council of Tal'Dorei, who dedicated a third of their campaign to saving the continent from dragons; but the Mighty Nein's greatest duty is always to each other and to becoming better people. The focus is always on them. Yes there are fetch quests, yes there are NPCs who give them some unavoidable tasks, and yes people use the term "player agency" in weird ways all the time; but the Mighty Nein are, I think, the zenith of what a player agency driven campaign can be. The story is, above all else, theirs and theirs alone.

I don't know if there will be a Campaign 4 - I'm a bit more sanguine about the prospect than I was earlier in C3 - but for what it's worth I don't think Campaign 2 is irreplicable. Or rather, it can't be replicated, obviously, but I think they could do another campaign that is deeply tied to its setting and lets the party choose their own adventure in the same way. It just takes a little more prep up front, and a little more flexibility once it actually starts. If there is a campaign 4, I really hope they do it in that same style.

[eneablack]

where i shifted to last night

(i used this method.)

about this dr:

i call it ‘futuristic dr’, i got inspiration from one of my favourite asmr lol, it’s this one if you’re curious.

when i woke up:

it was still night and it was raining outside, and it was strange because it was coming from my right side and I have the window above me in void reality, then I could smell a different type of scent like orange, but I kept my eyes closed because I was tired. at some point however, I don't know how much time passed, I felt a weight on my chest and a slap on my face that made me open my eyes and I found THIS BALD CAT (don’t get me wrong, i love sphynx cats) on me and it started meowing. I was weirded out because I was saying what the fuck does this guy want at this time of the night, so I got up to feed him and at that point I realized "what the, I don't have a sphynx" so I connected the dots, in fact it wasn’t even my house, that is, it wasn't my CR's, and I wasn't me, because I was fucking tall and when I complained about the cat I heard a low damn manly voice so yeah i was like that ain’t enea. since it was night, i had the time to recollect everything and remember. the house was very cool, a small apartment with big windows on each wall to the sight of skyscrapers and damn flying cars. it was chill.

about me and other stuff:

my name was Neo, a very tall 27 years old guy, I'm not sure how much tall, maybe 1.90m or something like that, literally a pole. I had very pale skin and short black hair, visible veins on my eyelids and temples, brown eyes with some big dark circles because of my job shifts. I was pretty introverted and doubtful of ppl, but very independent and mature, intellect and cleverness was a big trait i had (in fact coming back here with this small brain was a bit ehm) and I've noticed that I caught lots of stares from many beautiful women (i’m just telling you, even tho nobody asked about this detail, i was just very hot ngl, in fact my appearance was similar to the picture above, that’s the closest i found). and I had this bad habit of smoking every day, like as soon as I woke up I immediately smoked cigarette (i don’t smoke here). i had this long black leather coat that i wore everyday.

I worked as a bartender at this chic flying hotel called Hotel 47, a subunit of the Skyward Heights chain (like in the asmr). I worked the night shift, from 10pm to 4am, in fact I basically sleep until the afternoon and am always tired and sleepy.

I owned a flying black motorcycle with some silver and blue trims. I've only bought it recently, beforehand I had a smaller one that I practically grew up with, I bought this new one with my savings since my job pays me decently. I'm not super rich, but I'm good, I can afford everything I need easily.

I didn’t have many friends because of my stick-up-in-ass personality, but I had some good close ones that were very different from me. there was this guy with yellow spiked hair and he was literally the opposite of me, he was high-key hyperactive and dumb (/jk) and the other guy was funny, he made me laugh a lot gotta admit. and then there was this girl, similar to the one in the video, with long pink hair, and there was something going on with her, don’t know how to call us, but there was something indeed (which was weird because i’m hella gay here hello???).

and that’s some info about this dr, i have to eat dinner now.

[thydungeongal]

Worth mentioning that 5e does not, in fact, provide a good method for creating balanced encounters. "Challenge Rating" in 5e is assumed to work as it did in previous editions, where a CR 1 encounter is "balanced for four 1st-level characters. It, however, does not, according to the designers. Conjure Animals and the Moon Druid both notoriously have terrible balance issues because the difference between monsters of the same CR can be massive. A number of official modules, even, have encounters that do not adhere to the CR calculation, and even ones that do (or go lower!) can be famous for causing TPKs. Death House in Curse of Strahd has a couple of these, the bandit fight in the beginning of Descent to Avernus, I think I remember a fairly deadly encounter in Icespire Keep...

You can get a better encounter by looking at XP given, or so I've heard, but I'll never forgive them for fucking CR up so bad. 3.5 had CR *and* a section that explained where you might find that monster and how they tended to group together!! A CR 1 creature might only ever be found in groups of 4-6, meaning it would be balanced around the fact that a party of 1st-level characters wouldn't actually be expected to fight one! That was so useful...

Oh yeah, and when I mention CR in relation to assumptions of D&D's baked in assumptions the point isn't to say that the system is good or anything. In fact, it sucks quite a lot! But the existence of the system itself states that D&D has been built with the design goal of encounters being balanced with party level taken into account. The system itself sucking is a whole different can of worms, but the fact that there is a system that asks the GM to input character numbers and monster numbers to get a difficulty rating tells you about the assumptions of the system! I.e. that the game is built with the assumption that parties will generally face adversity tailored for their level.

[pocketgalaxies]

FOR REALLL RE: WHEN MATT ASKED IF ANYONE WANTED TO DO ANYTHING. And then, when they went to Keyleth and Orym said "we want to be useful in the downtime"... my jaw fucking dropped. You all JUST got back from aeor, and right before that you got back from the moon - where your friend fucking DIED. No one wants to process any of that??

From how Matt had framed it, the feywild meeting between Ludinus and the Unseelie was an optional mission they could have delegated to NPCs, yet they jumped right into it with no prep or plan.

[And ohhh, the instant amnesia about why they were there. It was like they completely forgot the intent of the mission, and when Dorian raised that point ("is this what we are here for? To fight?") They all just shrugged and acted like there was no other choice!] I love them all dearly, so my frustration is borne of concern (they just walked into a HUGE fucking fight they are ill prepared for), and I am TERRIFIED Fearne will die now because of it. But also, I wonder - do they even want to be in this campaign anymore?

The way they keep rushing forward...maybe it's bc they've been conditioned by the rest of this campaign's pacing. Part of me feels it's Orym. This whole campaign it's felt like he's been using his pushing attack on the team. [Telling them early on (ep 30s) they need to promise him to be better together, forever reminding them of the ticking clock which means they need to get to Yios, to the malleus key, to reunite post-solstice. Then, an hr into the reunion: they need to keep going to address things "fast and fully". They need to get to Keyleth, to the moon, to stay on the moon even if it's risky bc "it isn't a vacation." Oop Letters died, but let's get back to keyleth, now we need to go to aeor, back to keyleth, and after all of that...well they need to "be useful in the downtime"! That might be too uncharitable? I don't know.

Above the table, I think they are all overworked from making two animated series, running a company, and their professional work outside of CR. It seems like too much. Like they need a break, and maybe subconsciously are running headlong to the finish so they can finally have one. I don't begrudge them that, but it does make me sad for these specific characters that they've been so constrained by the plot.]

yeah for sure, the campaign is sharing space with a million other responsibilities when it used to be The Flagship the single most significant project they were working on. i think it's very likely that both animated series are perceived as a higher priority than the campaign now given the budget, wider audience, etc. which just kinda sucks when the campaign also requires the highest level of emotional and time investment out of all of those projects

orym has definitely played a role in the Always Business No Pleasure vibe of the campaign but i guess i hesitate to put that much blame on him, i think the overall story has been go go go and orym is largely a reflection of that. but also i do agree that it certainly isn't helping and many ppl have made more eloquent posts than i ever could about the space his grief has been allowed in comparison to other aspects of other characters and how that has affected the party and the campaign overall

i really do wish they could've taken this week to recuperate, do something for themselves. literally anything. go shopping. any loose ends they would want to tie up before going into a battle to the death. but they either don't have connections to outside npcs or those connections simply aren't prominent enough. relvin, milo, birdie and ollie, family in zephrah, dariax, etc.? anyone?? imogen v. groon battle was sitting right there? and i just don't understand the necessity of adding in this ludinus unseelie situation it seems like something extraneous that the story could've gone entirely without and now it's just another Thing they have to do?

ANYWAY just struggling a lot about all these things! having a great time!!

[dead-boy-detective-agency]

Charles,

When you pulled out a bomb and molotov cocktail from your infinity bag thing in hell

Why the fuck were they already lit?

Did you really just chuck them in your bag and hope for the best??

OK, that's multiple times some of you lot have been somewhat stalkerish, what's goin on here?

Yeah, I have a magic backpack, they don't explode while in the bag, How Do You Know About My Bag?

Seriously, do we need security? Because this is almost concerning at this point.

Charles (CR)