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parad-ice-lostandfound · 1 year

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Prompt: Because I'm tired and want someone to cuddle me <3

Pairing: OM!Boys and GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff, comfort

TW: NA

AN: Because I feel drained. You know that bone-deep tiredness that's there for no apparent reason? Yeah, that's what I've been feeling for the past 4 days. Add horrible, horrible summer heat with it and you have one very tired, sticky and frustrated Icey.

This is very self-indulgent btw. Not really happy with the ending, but oh well, this has spent too long in my drafts, so enjoy~

The first sign that something was not right with you was when you woke up.

Your skin was clammy, the t-shirt you had slipped into the previous night sticking to your body despite it being a fairly cold night. An odd sense of exhaustion hung over as you sat up in bed, drowsily willing your limbs to move.

You jolted slightly at a sudden pounding at your door, groaning as you heard Mammon's voice telling you that you were late. Letting out a tired sigh, you swung your legs to get out of bed.

You went through your morning routine (that Asmo had all but wrestled you into following), trying to fight the alluring call of your still unmade bed. Normally you would make your bed as soon as you woke up, but considering the time constraints imposed upon you, you decided not to today. Besides, if you were to keep feeling this way the entire day, you would collapse into bed the moment you came home.

Mind made, you slung your bag (that you had the foresight to pack the day before, thank Diavolo-) over your shoulder. Time for another day of learning at RAD.

What could possibly go wrong?

You had been feeling queasy the entire day, and that only heightened when it was time for lunch.

Solomon eyed you as you kept playing with the food on your plate. A glance at Simeon revealed that he too had noticed your off behavior. The brothers were all a bit pre-occupied with some student council related work, which was why you were currently sitting with the Purgatory Hall members; but that couldn't be the reason for the way you barely made a dent in the food provided by the cafeteria. And it was one of your favorites as well.

"MC?" he called out to you gently.

You hummed in response. "Yes Sol?"

"Is the food not to your liking?" Simeon asked, his careful question bringing Luke's attention to your mostly untouched food. The younger angel began fretting and worrying over you instantaneously.

Luke's actions brought out the very first smile from you all day. "I'm fine Luke, just a bit tired," you responded to his heart-warming actions, lightly ruffling his hair. Luke huffed, but still hovered close to you with a concerned expression on his face. Simeon took one of your hands in his, checking your well-being using his angelic powers. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, and he told you as much.

"But still, you shouldn't overexert yourself MC," Simeon added after some thought. Just as you were going to reply, a familiar voice cut in.

"Indeed MC. There is no need to force yourself to attend RAD if you're not feeling well," Diavolo gave you a smile as he took a seat next to Simeon. Barbatos stood at his side, a fond smile on his lips as well.

"You should take the day off. Lucifer won't mind, I'm sure."

"I-"

Solomon lightly elbowed you, mischief in his eyes as he whispered, "Take the day off. You look dead on your feet, and I would prefer it if my little apprentice is in prime condition for all our experiments~"

You huffed in amusement. For all his cockiness, you could hear the concern in his words. "Fine," you conceded, missing the way everyone seemed relieved, "I'll go home, but only because I feel like trash. And i probably wont be able to concentrate in class." You stood to throw your uneaten lunch in the trash, coming back to your friends to get your bag. "Guess I'll get going now."

"Do you need someone to escort you MC?" Barbatos asked, his hand coming up to brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear. An innocent gesture that had your heart speeding up momentarily, and a red tint spreading all over your face. Barbatos chuckled at your flustered state as you squeaked out, "Nope! I'll be fine!"

"Rest well."

As soon as you reached the House of Lamentation, it was like a switch had been flipped. The exhaustion you had been fighting to keep back hit you with all the force of a rampaging beast. You barely made it to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes and getting into the bathtub.

You lost track of time as you soaked in the warm water, the bath salts Asmo had gotten for you relaxing you and taking some of the tiredness away. Once the water lost its warmth and your fingers became all wrinkled, you decided to get out. You nearly slipped when you placed one foot on the bathroom floor, hand shooting out to hold onto the side of the bathtub. A breathless laugh tumbled out of your lips, your heart hammering away in your rib cage from the close call. Carefully this time, your extracted yourself and quickly changed into clean and comfortable clothes after drying yourself.

Now that you felt less like a grimy gremlin, you decided to take a nap. Unfortunately, your bed did not feel as comfortable as it looked anymore. You tossed and turned for a few minutes, huffing in frustration before finally sitting up and glaring at the offending piece of furniture.

You needed to sleep. You wanted to sleep. But you were not comfortable enough to and it was driving you mad. Grumbling, you got off your bed, shooting it another nasty glare, picked up your favorite fluffy blanket and left the room.

One long and arduous journey up a flight of stairs led you to the perfect place for taking naps; the attic. You sighed in bliss as you sank into the bed, fluffy blanket on top of you soft and comforting on your skin. Things couldn't be any better.

You slipped into dreamland soon after, not realizing that you had forgotten your DDD in your room.

Lucifer frowned, looking at his chat with you.

When Diavolo first told him that you had gone home because you hadn't been feeling well, he wondered whether it was just an excuse. While he hadn't paid you much attention that morning, you seemed perfectly fine. When Simeon told him about your off behavior throughout the day, he got concerned enough to send you messages asking if you had reached the House of Lamentation safely and if you needed anything.

Messages that had gone unread and unanswered, even as it was nearing the end of the school day.

Lucifer wondered momentarily if he was the only one who went ignored, a belief shattered when he heard the loud voices of Asmo and Mammon complaining that you had ignored their messages and calls. Levi nervously asked, "D-do you think they're hurt or something? They don't usually ignore our messages..."

A ripple of panic passed through the brothers, but before anyone could act on that panic, Satan spoke up. "If something was wrong with them, we would have felt it through our pacts. Calm down."

"Satan's right. They must be resting right now," Lucifer hummed, hand resting on his hip as he looked at his brothers. "So you should all refrain from bombarding them with texts and calls. There are only two lectures remaining for the day to end; we can check up on them once we're home."

Garnet eyes watched as his brothers left the student council room one by one, before taking another look at his DDD.

Still unread...

"MC? We're home darling!"

"Shut up Asmo, they're sleeping right now. I can feel it," Belphie grumbled, the soothing hum of the pact mark against his skin lulling him to sleep. It was a calm that washed over him when you were taking part in his sin, and with the intensity of it, he could tell you were in the house.

That was good. The House of Lamentation was safe, more or less.

He watched as Mammon bee-lined straight to your room. Then, in true Mammon fashion, he threw open the door, only to freeze instantaneously.

"Oi, MC?" he called out as he stepped inside the room, eyes finding it empty. "Hey human, where are you?"

"They're not in their room?" Satan asked as he peeked inside said room, frowning as though it could tell him where you went. "Their bag and DDD is still here," he observed.

"Maybe they've gone to one of our rooms? Oh, I do hope it's mine~" Asmo giggled before skipping away. Belphie watched all of his brothers try to get to their own rooms, including Lucifer, in hope they'd find you resting there. Idiots, the bunch of them.

"...Where do you think they are Belphie?"

"The attic, Beel."

"Okay."

Levi made his way to the common room after having checked if you were in his room. It's not like he seriously thought you would be there. He sleeps in a bathtub, and that isn't the most relaxing place to sleep, he knows this. But he was surprised to see almost all of his brothers there as well.

Asmo pouted, leaning against Satan on the sofa. Lucifer sat on the armchair, watching as Mammon paced left and right.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, Levi! MC's not in any of our rooms, and I'm guessing they aren't in yours either?" Asmo hummed as Levi nodded.

"Did you check the twin's room?"

"I did, it was empty as well," Satan answered.

A beat of silence before... "Did anyone check the attic?"

The five brothers looked at each other, realization setting in as 4 of them scrambled to get to their resting human.

Lucifer sighed, before following his brothers up the stairs to the attic. Once he reached the top, he could see Asmo taking photos and cooing at the scene in front of them all.

You were cocooned in a fluffy blanket, your hair the only part of you visible. Beel slept comfortably on his side, his back facing the door to the attic, one arm over your swaddled figure securely. Belphie was on the other side, not asleep for once as he gave his older brothers a lazy smirk. "Took you guys long enough," he chuckled.

"Oi, you brat- mmph!"

"Shut up, they're sleeping," Belphie hissed, the arm used to throw a pillow at Mammon's face lowering and maneuvering the blanket around you so your face was now somewhat visible. "If you promise to be quiet, you can join us," he hummed, before closing his eyes and drifting off to dreamland.

Lucifer gave an exasperated smile as the rest of his brothers joined the cuddle pile, opting to pull a chair beside the bed for himself, content with watching over his family as they rested.

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jojo-schmo · 6 months

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My old Good Omens art from 2019-2020!! :O (In somewhat chronological order)

In the interest of sharing my art in one place, I thought I'd revisit this era of my art! I made much more traditional art at the time. But I like thinking about the evolution of my skills over the past few years.

Director's commentary below:

I believe the first four images are from 2019, when the first season of GO came out. Boy, did that show come out at a good time for me! I was in a deep art slump that had lasted for a few years at that point. Long story short, because of untreated depression and a chronic illness that brought me physical pain, I didn't get everything I wanted to get out of college classes and I was deeply self-conscious of my skill level. I knew I wanted to tell stories but I was frustrated that I seemingly couldn’t make my ideas come to life at all.

Being alive was very difficult for me at the time and I was fighting my own dark and negative thoughts that I directed towards myself constantly. I didn't see a psychiatrist until the Spring of 2020, and only then did things start getting better. If I had to describe it, it's like a storm in my head finally cleared. The weight on my shoulders lightened up a lot. I had enough mental clarity to gain more self-awareness and really work on myself. And that included my art. And it shows a little in the last few drawings.

(Side note, I am much, much better now. Medication and ongoing therapy has completely changed the quality of my life. I am very happy to be here!)

Anyway, I was making efforts to get better at drawing after college by taking Aaron Blaise's online art classes. (Side note, his class on drawing human anatomy helped me immensely!!) But it was just the beginning of a long art improvement journey!

But I see the stiffness and insecurity that was still present in my art from that time. Whenever I shared it on Twitter (which was my main social media at the time) I'd be lucky to hit ten notes. It didn't bother me all the time, but it did get discouraging as time went on. Until one day I decided to just deal with it. Whatever the reason was that nobody was seeing my art- whether it was due to the Twitter algorithm or if my art was just not appealing enough. I was going to keep drawing. If nobody clicked the like heart on my art, fine! I was going to keep throwing it into the void anyway and see what sticks. If it got ten likes or one I tried not to care as much.

My transition from drawing what I thought other people wanted to see, to drawing what made me happy, made a huge difference. Likes and reblogs do feel really good, but I'm happy to hear even what one person likes about my work. I try to keep that mindset with me as much as I can. And I'm not perfect at it. But it helps me a lot.

Of course that transition in my mindset was gradual. Took place over a few years. But I realized lately that I have a confidence in my art that I've never had before. And I'm really happy about that!!

All this to say, whether you've been drawing/writing for ten years, one year, or a few months, it's always nice to remember where you came from and far you've come.

Looking back, I wish I could tell my past self that her best was yet to come. And I still have a long way to go but I'm excited to see what I can make in the coming years!

If I had one preachy piece of advice to offer as a final note, remember that the ability to draw and write is an awesome skill to have. A skill that not every human being has. But a skill that can be developed and cultivated over time if nurtured. It's a beautiful thing to me, to be able to create something that didn't exist before. Something that only you can bring to life. And while it might not resonate with everyone who sees it, it might resonate with one person. And I love that. So when you can, create things that make you happy, the happiness might just be contagious to its viewers. <3

...I think I should draw some more Good Omens sometime soon. I miss those guys and they are dear to me :)

#tw mental health #good omens #jojo rambles #not to get too dramatic about myself on a post. I just wanted to share some thoughts aloud :)#and in the hopes that maybe someone will learn from my journey and not make the same mistakes I did

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mongoose-bite · 3 months

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Act Two just flew by, even with radiation sickness and my house's electrics going belly-up for a couple of days. I'm struggling here, cause my approach is to try not to spoil too much, and just talk about funny stuff, so people without context don't get any, but it's getting more difficult as I go. I'll try.

If you recall, Faye found some sandals she liked. The very next camp Scratch dug up a new pair of shoes. Poor Faye, even her dog has opinions on her fashion sense. I also realised I've missed out on the owlbear. Somehow.

I'm going to play the game again, so I decided if I miss things like that I'll not go back for them. Even if the mad Shar-worshipping rats that I got distracted from and forgot about once we finished the gauntlet have left me desperate for answers. Hopefully Sardax or Dyce or someone will figure it out (yeaah I've started naming my future PCs.)

I figured out how to play a druid. Very beautiful, very powerful. Both of them.

Is assaulting the towers ever not a complete clusterfuck? I actually did it a few times; once because I realised you have to free the prisoners first, not just bust them out when you sweep though. That's what I get for trying to be efficient. And then I had to load another time, because I forgot Gale's spell shaping only applies to damaging spells and Asterion got huffy cause I hypnotic patterned him. I have dragged that man KICKING AND SCREAMING up from neutral to 'medium' whatever that means and I do not wish to lose my hard-earned...tolerance. So I'll reload and do it all again. sigh.

Do you think I brought enough summons? Us survived the final encounter btw. Didn't contribute much, but survived.

Once Asterion got his runes read, he's getting more brilliant ideas. Yay. Didn't have to smite Shadowheart though. Faye is so proud of her.

And we finally get more answers, not just about Shadowheart but we get a bit more overall. (And I know the deal with magic items is they resize to fit whoever wears them, but the idea of someone sneaking in with a HUGE CROWN for the Absolute is hilarious.) She feels so bad for Wyll. Faye would have done exactly the same things, probably. He wasn't legally old enough to sign the contract! He actually did pretty well with all the restrictions on who she could send him off to fight. Could have been worse. I respecced him back to full warlock and he's ... okay. I guess I just don't see the appeal of putting all you eggs in the eldritch blast basket. I don't get this class.

Halsin kind of implied he's sticking around because he's...horny?

Faye, have you managed to short-circuit the bear's brain? In those shoes?

#crunchy plays bg3

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paula-of-christ · 10 months

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So I am struggling with where to go from here. I've been going to some aa meetings and of course it's in a church, most of them take place in a catholic church near me. And a huge part of 12 step programs involves finding "a power greater than yourself", and every single time I start to explore spirituality and religion I get drawn to Catholicism. I didn't have religious parents, not much influence of it in my life except for a few times my grandmother would take my brother and I to church with her sometimes when she'd visit. I've done a lot of really awful things over the course of my life (i killed someone by accident years ago) it's hard for me to believe in a God that cares about me. I'm certain something exists that created the universe, I don't know what to call it besides God. Anyway I guess my question is how would I start exploring Catholicism? Like should I just show up to a service on a Sunday and go from there, and what should I expect? I just feel so drawn to it as a whole but I have no idea what to do about it cause I've never been religious/gone to church much/etc. Any advice would be wonderful.

Boy did you come to the right place, my friend! I am glad you are going through a program to help recovery, I know that can be an extremely difficult thing to go through, realizing all of the things you've done that are not what you'd like them to be. I think the most important piece of advice I can give you regardless if you decide to become a formal Christian and join the Catholic Church, is to continue to look for that growth inside of you and the way you treat others. Sometimes it can remain hidden to us just how much we are growing.

I posted this recently about sins being forgiveable and if you just want to take a moment to read that, sit with it, and then continue on to my practical advice about how to actually convert. (under the page break)

The biggest reason I say you came to the right place is because of the patronage of my blog, St. Paul. He was complacent and considered himself a murderer prior to his conversion to the Church, and then after experiencing the Risen Christ, became the greatest evangelist in Church History. He wrote the majority of the new testaments. All of those letters authored by Paul, is the Paul that helped the temple officials find and stone many of our first martyrs, including a tradition where he helped martyr the first martyr, St. Stephen.

You can read his conversion in Acts chapter 9, but if you go a little bit earlier in Acts, you can read about the persecution of the Christians as well.

The first step to formal conversion, since I think you already have what you need for spiritual conversion (a desire to pursue Catholicism) is to just start going to Mass. You can try out a couple of different parishes near you if there is more than one. If you google "Catholic church near me" and look at the different church's websites to find their Mass times or go to MassTimes.org I believe it is called. I would say try out different parishes to feel it out. They will all have the same basic structure but maybe the people at one parish are more friendly than others.

Once you find a parish you like, they will usually advertise RCIA classes in their newsletter/bulletin, or you can simply call or email the parish office (usually in the bulletin) to enquire about RCIA classes. RCIA stands for Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults. It is generally a 9 month class, where you learn more about Catholicism and how to live it out. At any point between signing up and the Easter Vigil, where people in RCIA are brought into the Church either through baptism or confirmation (both if you're getting baptized, but if you already are, just confirmation) you can decide not to become Catholic. If you need more time or if you decide to go with a different Christian Church. Ideally you stick with it, but it unfortunately does happen.

A note about sin and being sorry for it; through baptism we are saved. We have an obligation after that to remain in good standing with God, but we can always get back to good standing with God. The only reason we are alive, or the world exists, or for any of this to be here, is because God loves each and every small part of us, down to the very atoms, immensely, and wills for us to remain here. If God, who is Love, stopped loving us, we would stop existing. Just because it is difficult for us to forgive ourselves, does not mean that God has difficulty forgiving us. God understands our struggles, because "he was made sin so that we might become righteousness" (2 Corinthians 5:21) but he doesn't sin. He was tempted in the desert, and again in the Garden of Gethsemane, but He did not sin, because He is God.

I cannot stress enough how much picking up a Catholic bible is important, and reading the Gospels. I specify Catholic only because the Catholic bible has books in it that Protestant bibles do not. A good translation that I personally like is the New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE).

Be assured of my prayers and please reach out on or off anon if you need some more encouragement!

#catholic #catholicism #roman catholicism #christian #christianity #tradcat #tradcatholic #tradcatholicism #traditional catholic #traditional catholicism #queue me up (queue me up inside) can't queue up (queue me up inside) queue meeeee

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binarystargames · 10 months

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Thinking about (a very broad definition of) quarterbacking, especially as it relates to TTRPGs (part 1)

This is going to be a bit meandering and I'm not going to have answers at the end of this post because it's already too fucking long. Bear with me.

Disclaimer/preface: I'm mostly spitballing based on my own experiences as someone who has both seen and done this. I'm sure there are better terms for what I'm saying and that I'm probably reinventing the wheel. I'm fine with that. I know about the killer/explorer/socializer/roleplayer model for multiplayer games already, it's useful and there's definitely an intersection point on a venn diagram of where it interacts with this but it doesn't 100% map to where I'm going with this.

As I mentioned at the end of my post on diceless ideas for APOCALYPSE FRAME, I like the idea of resource-management-based rather than randomness-based methods for tactics games, but I am slightly worried that it would increase the prevalence of quarterbacking.

Typically the definition used for this in this context is: in a setting where everyone is on the same team, one person (the "quarterback") tells everyone else in the group what to do. I'm expanding that definition here into generalized situations where people are telling seemingly-equal peers what to do during a game or even to some degree when people feel pressured/coerced into taking certain kinds of game actions. I like to think of this on two levels:

Strategic. The kind of decision that's made at a high level, usually before anything that actually happens takes place. Quarterbacking here takes the place like someone having to pick a specific class or character or role. If you've ever picked the party cleric because nobody else wanted to be a healer, even if nobody told you to or even suggested it, that's what I mean. The more defined player roles are and the more essential they all are, the more this comes up, but it can also be reflected in things like equipment loadouts.

Tactical. The kind of decision that's made at a per-action, per-encounter, etc level. "Go over here", "do this", "cover X other player", "spend this level of resources but no more", etc. The more important a given action or resource expenditure is, the more this comes up.

Tactical is mostly what I'll get into because that gets to what made me think about this, though I'll probably get back to Strategic later a bit in part 2 because I have a few thoughts there.

Where does this show up?

As much as I'd love to say sports, in seeking a useful definition, I've actually defined it here in such a way that kind of crowds them out: in American football, for instance, it's not intended to be an equal team of people making play decisions: roles are predefined, a play is passed down from a coach to the quarterback to players, and it's up to them to stick to the spirit of the play while interpreting the best course of action along the way. In the context of non-sports, you can see it a lot in video games, board games, and RPGs.

Online games are a big one that comes to mind. There can be a lot of coordination involved and if you're in a group of randos you will inevitably run into someone who decides to tell everyone else what to do. They'll probably start being real shitheads if you ignore them too! Co-op board and card games have this too (I'll get into this more below). And of course, TTRPGs, that's what brought me to the dance after all and got my brain spilling all over the page about it.

Is this actually a problem?

Maybe! It depends! It's a really broad thing I'm outlining here so it's hard to answer.

I think it's a function of expectation going into it. For a lot of groups maybe this is how they like to do things: the strategy person gives out marching orders and everyone else goes along with it, everyone decides party composition ahead of time, etc. If one person is just not as good at using the tools at hand, they might ask for suggestions and that's good! If someone's obviously floundering, suggesting a way out of it is probably also good as long as they're cool with it.

I'm going to use the cases of TTRPGs especially for cases where I think it can be a problem because I reckon there's a few kinds of expression going on that can be at odds. I'm going to make some terms up so bear with me, I'm sure someone way smarter has come up with a better distinction but this is how I'm thinking about it:

Game state expression. This is the "trying to win/lose" or "trying to solve the puzzle" layer. This is where quarterbacking makes the most sense! If you're coordinating to win then coming up with a strategy together, maybe with someone setting it all out, can definitely make perfect sense.

Narrative expression. When you think about an action scene or a fight, usually there's one of two things happening. One, there's a major plot point that's getting resolved by it. This is where you get like "boss fights" and "setpieces". Two, and this is more common, they're pretty low-stakes but are used as a way to show off how characters prefer to do things. Does a vulnerable character keep distance or put themselves at risk? Does a bruiser character pick targets to keep friends safe, to take down easy pickings, or to go for the biggest thing they can see? Do defensive characters mostly keep themselves alive or protect others? This is where I think TTRPGs can really shine. Sub-optimal play isn't strictly necessary for this, but situationally, it can be a way to express this. Quarterbacking often steps on those impulses, but not always: maybe characters are willing to put their personal ways of doing things aside for the greater goal, and that can be narrative development too! But I suspect that's not going to be the response every time.

Personal expression. Sometimes people don't like to do a certain kind of thing, you know? Maybe someone doesn't like their characters having less than half health even if it's like, fine. Maybe someone never wants to spend more than half of their resources "just in case" even when that makes no sense. Maybe someone always goes full auto instead of using bursts because it feels better. Maybe someone only prepares AOE attacks instead of individual-target ones. But it sure would be better for everyone else if they did things that made more sense! This is the one that quarterbacking can really clash with because it's often strictly suboptimal behavior.

I suspect you're going to see quarterbacking be more accepted and less of a problem in video/board/card game scenarios because Win The Game is a lot more emphasized in those, so there's more acceptance of taking some direction from others in order to succeed because that's why we're here. Personal expression still crops up for sure, but aside from like roleplay servers or the more nebulous early phases of an MMO - Dan Olson's example of a WoW player who always stays shoeless and always walks outside of combat and eventually draws the ire of their guild is a great example of that transition, for example - I don't think there's honestly too-too much in the way of narrative expression for multiplayer video games. Your "verbs" and goals are necessarily much more actively restricted too, which furthers this - no matter how you feel about your character or whatever, at the end of the day, W or L is in many cases the thing the game expresses, so that's what folks will aim for. (Some games are, of course, better at this than others.)

Now, this is not to say that I'm drawing a "rollplay vs roleplay" distinction. I would really hope we're several decades beyond that. (I know we're not actually but I like to be optimistic.) What I'm saying is that in a given situation, someone playing the game is going to have several motivations pulling them in different directions, and in a lot of cases any of these can lead to folks telling other people what to do or feeling like they have to do something they don't want to. I mostly think this is a game state vs. other motivations thing but it can definitely happen from narrative or personal angles too: if someone has ever told you that your character probably wouldn't do something, for example, there it is!

Why does turn-based make this more of a thing?

There will almost certainly end up being "correct" decisions, and when there are "correct" decisions, there will always be a frustration in some players when others aren't making them. You can correlate this extremely strongly with the margin for error for victory/etc narrowing: as soon as there's a perception that a binary win/loss is at stake, people will start to do this more. And the longer a game lasts, the more likely this is. The idea of playing a co-op game for 4 hours and losing kind of sucks - much less a campaign that lasts a year and is on the brink of ending in a TPK or whatever!

For turn-based games, you have much more of an opportunity to draw out a turn and figure out the exact optimal thing, and do an "are you sure" or "please do this instead" when someone says the "wrong" thing. In contrast, for a video game that's real-time (and especially one that's remote!) you don't really have a chance to second-guess anyone's course of action, they're just going to do what they're going to do and you can either scream obscenities at them for it or not. Depending on the game, they may not even be able to hear it!

Why does removing randomness also make this more of a thing?

Let's imagine a three-person combo: Person A sets something up with one ability, Person B primes it in some key way with another, Person C finishes it off with a third that ends up as something far greater than the original. Great! This is what co-op tactics games are made of! It's cool when people contribute. We love to see it.

If this works every time, if all of them can be guaranteed to be able to happen, then setting things like this up is the play, no question. If you're Person B, you're guaranteed to be decreasing the value of your actions by doing something that isn't bridging that gap between A and C unless there's a situational reason not to do that. If you can't guarantee any part of that combo happens/will work, though, the value of being able to set those combos up decreases or they'll be much shorter/more conditional to account for it.

This isn't to say it's useless when there's more uncertainty, but there's way more latitude for not sticking to the plan when things have an increasing number of ways they can go off track.

Can't we just solve this by talking it out.

Yes. I feel the need to emphasize this, yes. I've done it in the past. You can always talk to a group of friendly folks to fix almost anything. It's always correct and valid to just talk to people if there's an issue if that's an option. Talk to your friends.

Now that that's out of the way, I think it's a bit of a thought-terminating cliche. Of course you can just ask your friends to knock it off...but that assumes you're playing with friends, and often if you're playing with someone you aren't that comfortable with it's way harder to do - doubly so if that's how they've always played and they're not sure what they're doing wrong. And especially if you're time-limited, like at a con game! "Suddenly become an extrovert" and/or "figure out how to confront people you don't know" is a little beyond the scope of this topic, and if you can teach people how to do that, write a book about it or something.

Ideally I'd like to design and run games so it doesn't feel like it needs to get to that point as often or as quickly. For instance, a game that's wildly poorly designed and unbalanced requires a lot more pulling punches and intentional spotlighting to keep things even-keeled than one that isn't, you know? For traditional GM-centric games it puts a lot of work on them, and even for more distributed-role games it adds a ton of work that doesn't have to be there and expends a lot of energy that could go elsewhere. As such I think there's value in figuring out design and play tools to help myself and others with this (and luckily, there are neat examples to pull from).

Next time.

#ttrpg #ttrpg design #game design

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arcaeda · 9 months

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toa anniversary munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: leon!

Pronouns: he/him mainly but they/them? also sick

Birthday (no year): aug 30th whats up my fellow virgos

Where are you from? What is your time zone?: i'm from good old virginia but ive lived in a few different state. i currently live in illinois (insert peace sign hand emoji here) i'm also central time! midwesterners make some noise

Roleplay experience: my first experience rping was when i was like 12 or so. i started off doing cringe ass rp in deviantart group chats (if anyone remembers those). i didn't start doing (cringey attempts) @ legit para rp until i was 15 or 16 where i used deviantart and tumblr interchangeably. i experimented with panfandom rp for a bit and then a little while after that i found toa!

Got any pets?: my two chihuahuas who are brothers bae and skippy! i post them in gen media sometimes (bae is the white one and skippy is the one that looks like a frito)

Favorite time of year: autumun girlies rise up

Some interests and things you like: video games and animanga, mostly. i like (mostly j)rpgs, visual novels/otome games and rogue-lites. i used to bingewatch 30 episode animes in one day when i was younger LMAO. nowadays i mostly just stick to reading manga with my favorite genres being shoujo & josei. i don't stick to the new anime seasons anymore so these are some oldies, but my favorite anime of the past would probably be kaitou saint tail and nana. the newest anime i've probably enjoyed and actually remember is akatsuki no yona.

Some funfacts & trivia about you: im gonna be real with you all im terrible @ sharing fun facts about myself. uhhhh idk i guess i've swallowed whole pennies and dimes before as a child. i also ate a whole tube of toothpaste on christmas day and puked it up later..... i ate a lot of weird shit as a kid apparently

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play?: uhhh most of my main interest in vidja games is fire emblem, but actively rn i play like mobage and rhythm games on the side. other big interest games for me would probably be the botw series (not neccesarily zelda overall but), persona 5, ffxiv a LOT in the past, hades…. i cannot think of anything else off the top of my head LOL

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: blaziken you are my favorite little guy. my favorite type is probably electric or ice though.

How did you get into Fire Emblem?: i saw fire emblem awakening at gamestop and remembering marth from smash bros decided to buy it

What Fire Emblem games have you played?: there are some i've only read the script for, but for actual games that i've played : geneaology, shadows of valentia, blazing blade, some of sacred stones, path of radiance and some of radiant dawn, awakening, conquest, three houses and engage!

First Fire Emblem game: awakening

Favorite Fire Emblem game: geneaology will stick with me in my heart until i die, but like i also really did enjoy engage. she's climbing up there boys

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳: SIGURD FIRE EMBLEM I AM BEGGING YOU I WILL BE YOUR DOG BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays?

Awakening: chrom bc i didnt realize how s supports worked (though i did already like him when we married). my first marriage by choice was with lon'qu. i usually play f!robin, but if i do m!robin i marry cherche teehee

Three Houses: claude my beloved

Engage: alfred. hrk

Favorite Fire Emblem class: i fucking love mage knights so much. so glad engage brought them back

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class?: villager LMAOOOO but nah for real i think i would probably be a cleric, not by choice but because it would be the only thing i excel @ in universe. (my ass weak as hell)

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation?: golden deer rePRESENT WOOOOOO

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with?: sigurd for completely totally normal reasons. marth if you forced me to choose someone else

How did you find TOA?: on twitter! and i am so glad i decided to apply hehe

Current TOA muses: veyle and caeda!

Who was your first TOA muse?: sigurd! i wrote him here for around two years i think, but i also had prior experience writing him before toa teehee

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards?: i definitely think i gravitate towards the parental figure therapist type.

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most?: i love writing idiots who mean well the most i think (looks at sigurd and my very old tormod muse)

Favorite TOA-related memory: everyone swapping and trading letters of their mun name in the discord server. also anything 0 days since our last food discourse related

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔: toe-uh! since the day i was born

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day that you’d like to share? 😉: (barking and growling at you) i am thinking of bringing back timerra after i recover from top surg tho.

#{ ooc. }#{ yayyy dash gamess!!!!!!!!!! }

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despitethecold · 1 year

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Hi @trikeycore, I'm your secret art buddy in @gtavfest! xD I've tried writing an Amanda/Michael/Trevor fic for you. I hope you enjoy it, happy Valentine's Day! :3

---

It was the first Valentine's Day after Amanda and Michael had decided to welcome none other than Trevor Philips into their relationship.

Rarely anything was simple regarding Michael and Trevor, but remarkably enough, this deal was. Both Amanda and Trevor wanted Michael, and Michael wanted them both. The idea had been born one night fueled by cocaine and booze that ended up with a mind-blowing threesome, and after that, they decided to stick together. Maybe not exactly a thruple — she didn’t bear intense romantic feelings for Trevor, and she doubted Trevor felt much for her — but the sex… the sex was good. Much better than it had been in a long time. She didn’t have to worry about Michael cheating on her anymore, and since both she and Trevor kept his balls empty, he willingly stopped seeing hookers. Oh, and not that she had to admit that out loud since it was so obvious, but Amanda liked having the attention of two men on herself.

And in time, her resentment towards Trevor began to die down. Never in a million years would Amanda have guessed that Trevor could actually be pleasant when he chose to, even though it was only under certain circumstances — he had to be fed, entertained, rested, and sexually satisfied. Sort of like a dog, which was a peculiar notion, but it fit Trevor perfectly.

For the special day, she barely had any plans for them. Going out was out of the question, not with Trevor. She had a feeling society wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

But Amanda still wanted something different, a touch that would mark the special day, so she decided to cook for the first time in forever. The cooking classes she had taken out of boredom came in handy; she made a nice dinner for them entirely on her own, and even though she wasn’t sure if the guys would appreciate it, she was proud of herself.

She put some cans of beer in the freezer fifteen minutes before dinner to ensure they would be ice cold — she had noticed Trevor enjoyed drinking his beer like that. When it was finally dinner time, she took two out and poured expensive wine for herself and Michael before they sat down and started eating.

During dinner, the banter was light and cheerful. The red roses Michael had brought home were in a vase on the kitchen island, and every once in a while, Amanda glanced at them and smiled before returning to Michael to hear about his day at the studio. Trevor didn’t hold back from making occasional remarks to annoy Michael, but he was too focused on eating to cause a scene. He licked the plate clean when he was done, getting some sauce on his nose. While Amanda berated him for not acting civilized like she did just about every evening, she was secretly delighted that Trevor liked her cooking enough to lick the remains. It was a nice ego boost. With a smile she couldn’t hide, she grabbed a napkin and threw it in his face for him to clean up, which earned her an amused snort from Michael.

It was almost nine when they wrapped up dinner. The large dish that once held dessert was empty, as well as the bottle of wine, and more beer cans had joined the list of things on the table that would go to the trash bin. It wasn’t the Valentine’s Day dinner she’d always dreamed of, but she found that she didn’t really mind. All three of them were as close to happiness as they could get, and that was somehow enough.

“Thanks for dinner, Mandy,” Michael smiled lopsidedly, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his swollen gut. “Man, I ate too much.”

Trevor belched, ignoring the eye rolls coming from both spouses, elbows brusquely resting on the table. “That’s what you always say, Porkchop. And you’re not wrong. You ate half of the cake.”

“Not cake, tiramisu. And you ate the other half,” Amanda pointed out amiably, drinking the last few sips left of her wine. “I only had a few bites.”

“Not my fault it tasted good. Since when do you know how to cook anyway, Mandy? The last time I had something you made was back in Yankton, and I can’t remember what it was, but I’m pretty sure it tasted like feet.”

Amanda lightly slapped Trevor’s arm, but she was too charmed by the compliment to get actually upset. “Yeah, I remember. You spat it on the floor like a goddamn animal.” She raised her brows meaningfully. “But I’ve been taking classes instead of dealing drugs and murdering people. You should try it sometime.”

“Nah,” said Trevor as he stood up, his chair making a screeching sound on the pristine floor. “I’ll pass.”

The dishes were left in the sink to be taken care of later. Michael was already yawning, and he excused himself to shower while Amanda and Trevor headed to the bedroom.

Since Trevor had joined them, they had exchanged the bed for an Alaskan King size to be more comfortable performing all sorts of activities. Most nights, they snuggled close as they slept, taking turns in the middle, something Amanda hadn’t expected when they had first agreed on living together. But it was enjoyable enough. Both men were just so problematic; she had always thought one nutcase was enough for her household, but they seemed to balance each other out somehow when it was two — when they weren’t enabling each other to do crazy, irresponsible shit, of course.

They were extremely dangerous to strangers and ridiculously protective when it came to their loved ones. Perhaps that was why Amanda felt so secure the nights she had her nose buried in Michael’s neck, and Trevor spooned her, kissing her shoulder with a gentleness she had thought he was incapable of.

And that wasn’t the only sleeping arrangement she liked. Michael being in the middle worked well for everyone, as expected as that was. When Trevor slept in the middle, he tended to snuggle close to Michael and put an arm around Amanda’s shoulders. It had come as a bit of a shock the first night he had chosen to put his head on Amanda’s chest instead of Michael’s, but she had quickly become accustomed to it. Cuddling with Trevor wasn’t so bad. Ever since she made him start to shower regularly, he smelled of Michael’s luxurious soap. He was warm as a furnace and reacted so strongly to the slightest touches showing affection, and to Amanda’s surprise, touching him didn’t bother her as much as she’d anticipated, and she had soon gotten used to giving him caring caresses at night.

Trevor approached her while she took off her pearl earrings in front of the vanity, and she watched the unreadable expression on his face in the mirror. “Didn’t bring you flowers, but I bought you this,” Trevor muttered with a devilish smirk, pulling out a small box from his back pocket. Amanda took it, unsure of what it was until she read Edible Crotchless Underwear. Peach flavored. Certainly not something she had expected to see.

“…Thank you, I suppose,” she sighed hesitantly, putting down the box to take off her necklace next.

“You’re gonna put them on, right?”

Right. That was, of course, what he would expect. She was just about to brush it off with a maybe later, but then she saw the way Trevor’s eyes sparkled with anticipation and lust. It felt like a weird thing to try, but it also meant Trevor would be eating her out, and Trevor was absurdly good with his tongue. Just like a dog, she thought to herself again, barely suppressing a sneer. It wouldn’t be very wise to turn down the offer. “Fine, but I wanna shower first. It’s been a long day.”

Trevor’s brows furrowed questioningly. “Shower? God, no. No showering, Mandy.” He lowered his voice and added, “I wanna taste you.”

Jesus. Amanda couldn’t deny she was a bit turned on just by hearing that. Despite her better judgment, she couldn’t resist Trevor’s sex appeal she had finally begun to see, not when he was being seductive instead of acting like a madman or as immature as a four-year-old left alone with crayons.

Trevor seemed ready to take a step toward her and get all handsy, pants already tenting at the front, but Michael opened the door and walked in not long after with only a small towel around his waist, and that successfully distracted Trevor.

Michael sat on the edge of the bed and stretched his back with a groan, seeming to notice how close Amanda and Trevor were shortly after. He asked interestedly, “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing, Mikey,” Trevor grinned, stripping off his shirt and throwing it aside while strolling towards Michael. “I just gave Mandy a present.”

“…Okay?” Michael glanced at Trevor’s boner immediately, then pointed at it and chuckled, “Is this part of the present?”

“Sort of,” Trevor mumbled, ogling at Michael’s naked chest while he opened his jeans and took his cock out. “Wanna take a closer look?”

Michael stared longingly at it — he was long past the stage of denial, at least when it was just the three of them. “I do, but I’m exhausted, T,” he muttered apologetically. “Just wanna go to sleep.” He stood up with a grunt, planting a kiss on Trevor’s cheek before disappearing to get clean boxers to wear to bed.

Amanda was disappointed that Michael wasn’t going to be joining the fun tonight — it wouldn’t be the first time, and she was no longer hesitant to get intimate with Trevor without Michael right beside them. But it was Valentine’s Day. She desired to feel the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago touching her.

As if reading her thoughts, Trevor approached her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Uncle T will take care of you tonight,” he said huskily, looking almost compassionate.

“I told you not to say that,” Amanda rolled her eyes, turning around so Trevor could unzip her dress.

Trevor took his time with the zipper, planting sloppy kisses all over Amanda’s neck and shoulder, pushing his erection to her ass. She slowly wiggled her hips, sighing when Trevor let out a needy groan.

Michael was already back and in bed, taking the side and leaving them enough space to do whatever they desired. Still, when Amanda peeped at him, she noticed Michael was watching them instead of closing his eyes. She briefly wondered if he would actually watch while they had sex. It wouldn’t be the most terrible thing.

Trevor began sucking on her skin and groped her butt, distracting her from her thoughts. She was already familiar with how Trevor liked it; rough, filthy, and loud, which worked well for her too. Before she knew it, Trevor was maneuvering her to turn again, and the second she did, he crashed their mouths together, kissing her deep and hard.

Amanda’s arms wrapped around Trevor’s broad shoulders. The rock-hard erection she could feel against her thigh was thrilling, and she was impatient to get to the main act already, but she humored Trevor for a while longer, letting his tongue dance with her own. He tasted sweet, with a hint of the beer lingering instead of tobacco. She touched the nape of his neck, then lightly scratched her nails down his back, feeling her arousal grow.

They finally parted after a long moment, and Amanda ordered breathily, “Get on the bed.”

Like a puppy listening to orders, Trevor did, leaving his jeans and underwear on the ground before climbing on the mattress and lying down, eyes still on Amanda while he shamelessly fondled himself, working his erect cock after spitting in his hand.

Amanda hummed, satisfied that Trevor was listening to her, and the sight of him pleasuring himself was fun to watch. There was some distance between the two men, but she realized Michael’s eyes were wide open still. He was observing Trevor playing with himself as well.

“I thought you were gonna sleep, Michael,” she laughed softly as she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the ground along with the dress.

Michael’s eyes darted to her tits while he released a shaky breath. “Yeah… I was.”

“It ain’t your fault you have two hotties in your bedroom,” Trevor grinned as he rolled over to get closer to Michael, teasingly putting a hand on his lower belly. “You can just watch us if you want.”

“… Are you really suggesting I watch while you fuck my wife, Trevor?” He looked a bit weirded out — it probably sounded worse when said out loud, but his expression softened after a while as he put his hand on Trevor’s and squeezed.

“I said if you want. Jesus. You can rest while I keep her entertained.” With that, he brought his mouth to Michael’s, kissing him deeply.

While they were talking, Amanda had changed out of her panties to the ones Trevor had bought. The idea of wearing or seeing edible underwear on someone else wasn’t necessarily arousing for her, which was why she hadn’t experimented with them before. When she looked in the mirror, she thought the gummy part looked odd against her crotch, and the black strings around her hips that kept it in place weren’t exactly sexy either, but the whole thing would be gone soon anyway.

With nothing on but the panties, she climbed on the bed, her hand gently trailing from Michael’s knee up to his thigh. She could see the beginning of an erection Michael had in his boxers from making out with Trevor, and she gently petted it, eliciting an appreciative moan from her husband.

Realizing Amanda was ready, Trevor pulled away, eyes widening as he hungrily watched her breasts and then the panties, mouth wide open. “Happy Valentine’s Day to me…”

Amanda appreciated Trevor’s enthusiasm. On the other hand, Michael looked stunned, not in a good way, reaching out a hand and touching the strings with confusion. “What the fuck’s this?”

Trevor scoffed, clearly thinking everyone should be into them. “Edible panties, Mikey, haven’t you ever seen one before?”

“No, I have not, actually.” His fingers went all the way down to the opening in the middle of the gummy, lightly stroking Amanda’s folds, then he pressed his fingers deeper, pushing one of them halfway inside her.

Amanda let out a sigh, momentarily closing her eyes. “Sure you don’t wanna join, babe?”

Instead of giving a reply, Michael withdrew his fingers. Just when she was about to protest, she heard a chuckle. When she opened her eyes again, Trevor had Michael’s fingers in his mouth, staring directly at her crotch as he sloppily sucked on them. Taken aback by the clear display, she met Trevor’s crazed, lust-filled gaze, and the next thing she knew, Trevor was yanking her towards himself and pushing her down to the mattress.

“Ow! You animal, take it easy,” Amanda groaned after her head hit the bed, and Trevor put his hands on her knees to spread them apart by force.

Trevor didn’t even seem to be listening. “I want more,” he growled like a predator, getting on his stomach and burying his face in Amanda’s pussy.

Amanda gasped, mouth falling wide open in pleasure. Trevor did not bother with warming her up — he shoved his tongue inside her straight away as deeply as he could, hands fumbling her ass cheeks. It wasn’t delicate in any way, but Amanda didn’t expect that from Trevor.

For a while, Trevor only licked her from the opening in the gummy before eventually getting impatient and starting to bite into it from the sides. First, he chewed up the part that covered her clit and swallowed it, then spat on it and tongued there until she started moaning and squirming on the bed.

It was tough to keep her eyes open when Trevor’s tongue was so persistently stimulating her most sensitive parts, but when Amanda felt a hand on her tit, she tilted her head, meeting Michael’s drowsy yet heated gaze. “Feels so good,” she panted. “I’m getting close…”

Michael lightly pinched and twisted her nipple, his other hand slowly working his cock, which was now whipped out and fully erect. He licked his lips before scooting closer to Amanda to give her a kiss, which she gladly accepted while threading her fingers in his coarse hair, nails digging into his scalp.

By then, Trevor had eaten the whole gummy soaked by her juices. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so fucking hard, you taste so good, Mandy, I wanna hear you say my name…” She could feel the mattress bounce as he frantically humped the bed for some friction on his cock.

“Stop talking and make me cum,” Amanda instructed breathily, pushing Trevor’s head closer to herself and arching her back when he obeyed, sticking his tongue inside her again.

It only took her a minute or so to reach an orgasm that left her body shaking almost violently. Trevor gave her a few more gentle licks before getting on his knees. His mouth and chin were soaked with her juices, and he wiped at them with his palm and brought it down to his dick to give it a few tugs. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

She took her time replying, trying to catch her breath for a long time. “Not yet,” she murmured eventually, “give me a minute.”

Trevor didn’t look too happy. “Fuck, I’m getting impatient.”

Michael was lying back down again, eyes drooping, but he was still massaging himself, greedy gaze now on Trevor. For someone who claimed they just wanted to sleep, he sure seemed horny.

Trevor crawled to Michael and straddled him, slapping his hand away, so their cocks were pressed together. “I made your wife cum with my mouth,” he purred, almost daring Michael to do something about it.

Michael moaned weakly, “I know…”

Amanda could easily watch Trevor’s hips move from where she lay, and God, his ass was actually nice. Tanned and muscled, and with each thrust, it looked even more alluring. She guessed that if it weren’t for his corrupted soul and occasional premature ejaculation problem, Trevor would be a decent lover.

Michael was the one moaning under Trevor now, uncharacteristically submissive. Obviously too tired to manhandle Trevor and fuck him like he usually liked to do, so he guided Trevor’s hips with his hands. But the two men looked genuinely sexy; frotting, kissing, and making delicious, obscene sounds that got Amanda yearning to be touched again.

She was just about to tell Trevor she was ready when Trevor went rigid over Michael, muscles tensing. “God, sorry, fuck,” he moaned as he shot his load over Michael, trembling slightly with the force of his climax.

“Jesus Christ, Trevor,” Amanda rolled her eyes, taking off the panties while complaining. “Is this over before it even began?”

Trevor grunted, “Of course not!”

Michael pushed him away in a hassle. “I just showered,” he grumbled. Amanda could tell from his voice that he was close, too.

“I’ll clean you up, don’t worry,” Trevor murmured remorsefully. He got off him and dipped his head, beginning to lap at his own cum that had spilled over Michael’s stomach, then he moved down to his cock, first licking it clean, then taking the tip into his mouth and slurping loudly.

Amanda noticed Trevor was still mostly hard right when she was starting to lose hope of getting properly fucked. She pushed him onto his side and wrapped his finger around his cock, gently stroking him while he continued giving Michael head.

“Fuck, Trev,” Michael groaned, “I’m gonna cum, take it deeper!”

Like the good, obedient pet he was, Trevor immediately took Michael in as much as he could into his mouth. The wet sounds coming from his throat seemed to make it even better for Michael. His clouded gaze met with Amanda’s, and a second later, he cried out as he came, head thrown back in ecstasy.

After he swallowed every last drop, Trevor finally pulled away, gasping for air. “Was I good, Mikey?” he asked, thrusting into Amanda’s hand, looking at Michael, waiting for his verbal approval.

“Yeah,” Michael’s hand found Trevor’s head, gently petting it. “You did very well, baby.” He was slurring his words from fatigue at that point.

Trevor seemed satisfied with the answer, nuzzling against Michael’s palm and pressing kisses until Michael pulled it away, fixed his underwear, and rolled onto his side with a satiated sigh. “Go on, then.”

After a few last tugs, Amanda let go of Trevor’s throbbing cock. “Are you gonna watch us?” she asked without much hope of Michael joining them.

“I don’t seem to have much choice. Unless I fall asleep,” Michael mumbled with a chuckle. “You wanna get fucked, right? And I don’t have the energy to do that now.”

Amanda rolled her eyes playfully, resting a hand on Michael’s chest. “You’re such an old man, Michael, and you’re barely fifty.”

“Hey hey hey, less talking, more fucking,” Trevor grunted impatiently, interrupting the banter. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

Amanda gave him a sour look, but did what he said nonetheless after pressing her lips to Michael’s cheek. She could practically feel Trevor’s heated gaze burning into her skin. After carefully examining her naked body, Trevor landed an experimental, light spank on her ass.

It felt good, so she asked for another one, this time a bit harder. “Did you put on a condom?” she purred after that, not hiding that she was excited.

“What? Do I have to put on a condom on Valentine’s Day as well?!”

The exasperated sigh was unmistakably a yes, and Trevor begrudgingly reached for the bedside table, tearing the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom down his length. “Happy now?”

“I will be happy if you start fucking me—”

Trevor thrust in without any warning, leaving Amanda gasping in shock. Like that wasn’t enough, he gripped Amanda’s hips tightly, fingers digging into her skin as he began fucking her wet pussy. Amanda could hear the lewd sounds mixing with her moans.

“God, it feels so good inside you,” Trevor growled. He fucked like an animal in heat, really — it lacked the romantic touches Amanda craved and didn’t last very long, but fuck, it was something. Maybe because it felt carnal and raw, and Trevor made it evident how much he enjoyed the fucking, his moans low and raspy, getting Amanda wetter than she already was.

Amanda’s hands were tightly holding the pillow beneath her forehead, whimpers getting louder. “Harder…”

“With pleasure,” Trevor chuckled, pushing in even deeper as he snapped his hips forward without mercy.

Michael’s hand shot up to Trevor’s waist, not applying any pressure but touching him as he thrust into Amanda at a punishing pace. “God, this is hot,” he huffed out, cheeks flushed.

Trevor’s laugh was sinister. “Is it, sugar?”

Michael let out a long hum. “Fuck me, but yeah.”

“Do I look hot, too?” she panted out, coated lashes fluttering against her cheeks.

“You look wonderful, darling,” Michael chuckled warmly. His cheeks were flushed, thin lips curled up into a smile. Obviously enjoying this, which was a relief. Amanda watched him sit up with a groan after that, disappearing from her view as he reached for Trevor’s lips. With her eyes closed, she listened to the sounds of them kissing with passion, bringing a finger to her clit. It was maybe fucked up, but she couldn’t deny getting turned on.

It went on for another minute. She couldn’t quite make out what Michael was saying as he whispered in Trevor’s ear, but Trevor’s grip on her waist tightened, thrusts getting more erratic, and his moans and whimpers became that much louder. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum soon,” he notified her — as if she couldn’t tell from the way he grunted. “Look at that ass, God, her pussy feels so good, Mikey…”

Michael groaned, surely in agreement, his hand landing on her butt. It all felt amazing, and she wasn’t that far behind herself, but she needed a last push to reach her climax. “Not yet,” she pleaded, pushing back to feel more of his cock. “Come on, Trevor, just a bit more!”

She wasn’t sure if Trevor was even paying any attention to her. Between listening to his animalistic grunts and compliments about her body as well as trying to focus on her pleasure, she didn’t notice Michael inching closer to her. He was on his knees, mouth close to Amanda’s ear, hot breath hitting her neck and making her shiver.

“Does he fuck you well, baby?” Michael questioned gruffly, earning a surprised gasp from Amanda. “Does his cock feel good inside you?”

She swallowed — what kind of question was that? — and whimpered, clutching his thigh, polished nails digging into his meat. “Yes… Very good.”

“Are you gonna cum around his cock, then?” His gentle hands wandered over her back, tracing her spine before sliding down to fondle her tits, and he sounded so genuinely sexy with that low tone of his that Amanda couldn’t even question what the fuck was wrong with him for encouraging this.

“I will,” she nodded frantically. “I just need… something…” She didn’t know what it was herself, hoping Michael would help her out.

Michael pulled away with a hum, and Amanda couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment in the pit of her stomach. She tried to focus on Trevor’s moans instead of lingering on it, fingers desperately rubbing herself. So close… and right when she thought she could come, the feeling slipped away.

But then she felt someone tugging at her hand, and a second later, something warm and wet replaced her fingers. “Oh, fuck…” Her eyes rolled back from pleasure. She tried to tilt her head to see; Michael was under both of them, hands on Trevor’s thighs, pulling him closer to Amanda with each thrust, and his tongue was working on her clit, lapping at it.

Her orgasm hit her hard. She convulsed around Trevor’s cock that was pumping in and out of her deliciously, feeling the greedy hands of not one but two men on her body now. The pleasure was intense, body taut even when Trevor fully pushed inside and cried out as he filled the condom. She would have laughed if she wasn’t still recovering.

Michael’s lips were on her clit again, making her shiver with how sensitive she was before he slithered out from between their legs. “See, I can make her cum with my mouth, too,” he told Trevor smugly.

Trevor groaned, “Whatever. I fucked her.”

“As if I don’t do that.”

“Stop arguing and pull out!” Amanda whined. Trevor didn’t sound too happy but complied nonetheless, and Amanda lay on her back, trying to catch her breath.

Trevor carefully removed the condom, showing it to the other two like a kid showing his parents an achievement. “I’m gonna go flush this down.”

“No, you’re gonna clog the toilet. Put it in the bin,” Michael told him sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Amanda’s legs felt wobbly, but she followed Trevor into the bathroom after putting on her nightgown. She washed her hands and grabbed cotton pads and makeup remover from the cupboard while Trevor dumped the condom in the trash.

“Was I good?” asked Trevor as he stood by the door, an arrogant grin on his lips. It was apparent he believed he’d delivered a terrific performance — which he had if she had to be honest, she hadn’t come twice in such a short time in a while. Yes, Michael had helped, but it counted still.

She started taking off her smudged eye makeup instead of voicing that thought, humming noncommittally. She was too tired to boost his ego.

Trevor pouted when he wasn’t praised. “What? What does hmm mean?”

Michael appeared behind him, giving him a light pat on the shoulder, then proceeded to head to the toilet. “Fishing for compliments, T?”

“No! It was just a question!”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that later, I’m busy now,” Amanda teased with a satiated giggle, watching Trevor’s scowl deepen.

Michael didn’t wait for anyone to leave the room to start taking a piss. “Hey, it wasn’t that bad, Trev,” he huffed, adding to Trevor’s fury.

“Fuck you! Fuck you both! I was great!” Trevor’s hands fisted by his sides. He sounded more disappointed than furious. “You know what, I’m leaving. All that effort, and you don’t even show any appreciation. Neither of you deserves me.”

“T, hey!”

“Don’t T me, you asshole.”

Amanda glanced at them only for a second before continuing to take her mascara off.

After he was done pissing, Michael made it his job to guide Trevor back to the bedroom by wrapping an arm around his waist, speaking to him in that hushed tone he put on whenever he tried to soothe Trevor. And Amanda knew it worked every time; Trevor was like a wild animal, and Michael was the tamer who had learned all the tricks to control him.

She finished cleaning her face and did the rest of her skincare. Nearly ten minutes had passed by the time she returned, only to find Trevor in Michael’s arms, looking much calmer now. Michael lazily spread his other arm, inviting Amanda close with a tired smile that indicated he might fall asleep any second.

But she got on the opposite side of the mattress instead of cuddling up to her husband. Trevor hummed faintly when she pushed her naked body against him, sliding a leg over his. “You were good,” she murmured, fingers caressing his arm.

“I know,” Trevor huffed weakly, burying his face further into Michael’s chest.

When Amanda peeked at Michael, she noticed he was already asleep. It was a surprise he’d held out for this long, but it had been so worth it. Gently, she touched her hand to his hair, stroking lightly. It moved to Trevor’s head after a moment, brushing over his cheek and ear as she whispered good night.

#gtavfest #trikey #amanda de santa #michael de santa #trevor philips

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gasolineghuleh · 1 year

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Hiii possum mom, long time reader first time commenter. Your little stories have brought me a lot of joy over the last month that I've discovered you but tbf never thought I'd be brave enough to try and request anything, it kinda feels like asking for too much? Eh anyway. I've had a shit day, just received the news that I'd be forced to take classes from someone that has emotionally assaulted/humiliated me in the past and I had the biggest breakdown imaginable. A letter from Papa IV, maybe? If you find some spare time and energy. Love you! <3 ~ fi$h

Hi fish!!

Nice to meet you, and I'm glad you decided to write to me!! Anything I can do to make someone's day even marginally better brings a smile to my face, thank you for telling me that it's been helping you! It's never asking too much, that's what I'm here for, love. Vent to me, talk to me, ask me for help-- that's why I'm mama 💜💜

So absolutely my darling dearest, I'm so sorry to hear that you have to take that!! I hope maybe it's a scheduling thing and they'll get it fixed out! But more to the point, I think I saw a letter with blue ink addressed to you, but let me double check in the back...

My dearest,

As you start this new semester of classes, I want you to know how proud I am of you, and how proud He must be as well. I understand that you are taking classes with that difficult professor again this year, and I want you to know that I believe in you. You are a smart, capable, and resilient Sister, and I have no doubt that you will excel. Maybe I can help you study and you can really, eh.. "stick it to him", yes?!

I know that it won't be easy, and there will be times when you feel frustrated and discouraged. But sorella, please know that I am here for you, to support you, to encourage you, and to remind you of your own strength and potential.

Remember that you have faced challenges before, and you have always come out stronger and wiser on the other side. Let His hand guide you and take solace in something that may help your mind. Try meditation, and remember you are a fighter, and you never give up. I have no doubt that you will rise to this challenge and show them who they are messing with, eh?

So my love, keep pushing forward. Believe in yourself, and don't let anyone else's opinion of you define who you are or what you are capable of. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I am honored to be by your side as you pursue your dreams.

Together, we can conquer anything.

Yours always, iv

#lorraine writes #fic #fanfic #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost #ghost bc fanfic #ghost fanfic #cardinal copia #copia #popia #papa emeritus iv #papa iv #papa 4 #era 4 #letters

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elderemorune · 2 months

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"Just Ignore It"

It feels like a lifetime since I last heard that phrase.

Given my name, you probably know who I hung out with back in middle school. I was absolutely in love with the emo girls in my school, and I mean obsessed. I loved their aesthetic, and they were the first people to ever accept me as I was. I wrote them poetry and shared my food with them, did whatever I could to express my affection for them.

In hindsight, I was a creep, but I was in middle school and hadn't yet learned how to be a functioning human being. I was socially inept, and all I knew how to be was a kid. I didn't have any of the concepts the other kids in my school did, I didn't know what drugs were, or what sex was. I was fucking 11, man.

The other kids didn't really like me much. I was constantly verbally harassed, beaten, tripped, hell I even got sexually harassed in gym, and the teachers, of course, did nothing. The most egregious example of this was when I was in 7th grade, and my locker was in front of Mr. Beck's classroom, with the teacher standing by the door. This bigger boy, the wide receiver on the football team, decided he was going to call me the n word (I'm white, btw) and shoved me in my locker. I resisted, of course, and Beck heard me shouting.

So then he grabbed the other boy and sent him to in-schoo- I'm fucking joking of course he didn't do that. He grabbed my happy ass and sent me to in-school-suspension for 'fighting'. Didn't even touch the other kid who literally had his hands on me. I know what Beck saw, he just didn't act because football fans stick together or some shit.

My folks believed the bruises I brought home, but they only ever offered the most useless phrase I've ever heard. "Just ignore your bullies, they'll go away. They just want a reaction."

No. They didn't want a fucking reaction, they wanted someone they could beat without protest, someone they could get away with hurting. And since none of the admins liked me, I was an easy target.

The teachers didn't like me much either, Especially not Mrs. Ty, who taught math. There were two events in her class. The first was when I had to pass gas during a test. Yes, dear readers, I had merely farted in her presence, and she demanded I leave. Before you ask what else I had done, I hadn't done anything. I was sitting at my desk, doing my questions and trying to be quiet because I fucking hated Mrs. Ty and her class. It wasn't even a loud one! But the room was quiet and everyone heard it. Pink with embarrassment, I said "Excuse me." and she just said "Out. Leave your test, you're done."

So I sat in the hall. One of the hall monitors asked me what had happened, and I told her. Of course, she didn't believe me. Why would she? No teacher would ever remove a child for something so inane! My parents also did not believe me. The felt me to be a liar, largely due to my sister's influence. She would say I did something, I would say I didn't, they'd punish me anyway because "Your sister saw you do it" was good enough. (Is it any wonder why I fucking hate authority figures?)

Anyway, I got home that day, and my folks grounded me. All they'd been told was that I had been removed from class, not why, and when I told them, my mom said to my face "If you're going to lie, why go with such a stupid one?" To which I said "Exactly! Why would I lie about something so stupid?"

As part of my grounding, I had to go run errands with mom. If we hadn't run into one of the other kids from my class at the gas station, my folks would never have believed me. He walked right up and said "Hey Rune, I'm sorry Miss Ty kicked you out of class for farting, it was so stupid." And by god did my mom turn pink. She got me a soda and apologized for not believing me. "But you have to understand kid, you lie so much, how was I supposed to?" (Again, I never really lied all that much, aside from the typical 'I didn't do it!' that kids do).

The other event was during some time at the end of a different Math class. There was this big guy in the class, Trevor. Hot temper, mean streak a mile wide, awful person. He'd dropped his pencil, and I'd grabbed it to give it back to him. Rather than waiting, he stood up, grabbed my desk, and flipped it (and me) over. Then sat back down.

As you can guess, nothing happened to him.

At that point, I'd decided I was done listening to my parents tell me to ignore them. The next time someone fucked with me, I was going to fuck right back.

It didn't take long for it to happen, either. Later, we were in Social Studies, and the teacher had left the room for whatever reason. Trevor and his fucking goons decided to gang up not on me, but on one of the other kids, Ben.

Now, Ben and I hadn't spoken much, kid's on the spectrum something fierce and was difficult to talk to, but he didn't deserve them throwing his shit around. So I stood up. Trevor looked at me and said "What the fuck do you think you're gonna do, huh?"

At the time, I was short, I was skinny, and I was fast. I punched Trevor right in his stupid fucking nose, and screamed "THAT!"

Footsteps in the hall, teacher's coming back. I said "You will not mess with me, or with my friend here ever again." and sat back at my desk, trying desperately to look calm. She came in, saw Trevor's bloody nose, and asked what the hell happened.

Much to my shock, nobody said a goddamn word.

After that, everyone took to ignoring me. Which suited me much better anyway, I hated them more than they ever disliked me. And I came away with one of my first friends, Ben! We still shoot the shit and play Pokemon to this day.

I've since reached out to some of those guys, the ones I could find, and found out what had them so fucked up back in the day. I don't hate them anymore, and that's about where I'll leave that, since those stories aren't mine to share.

I don't regret punching Trevor, and I don't think I ever will. And by the gods above and those below, I will never tell my kids to just ignore their bullies until they go away. My kids will know how to fight, and they'll know just how much they mean to the world around them.

#blog #journal #childhood trauma #bullying

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mangodestroyer · 5 months

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You know, they say you should avoid toxic people/environments, or leave them if you encounter them. But at this point, I don't really know how that would be possible.

I've come to learn that the world is full of assholes. And tbh, that was one of the hardest things to get used to in adulthood. Especially since I'd let some MAJOR assholes into my personal life. These guys are everywhere. In every profession, hobby, state, country, etc. And they come from all the different walks of life. Sometimes, they became that way because they were spoiled growing up. Sometimes, they just went through it and decided to become what hurt them. Sometimes, they really were just born that way. Point is, they think they're more important than everyone else, and they suck to deal with. And yes, I've even seen psychologists suggest they make up a good chunk of the population. At least an eighth. So they really are that common.

It's something that gets brought up when I look into academia and some of the schools I'd like to attend for my master's. My state happens to have a handful of prestigious institutions (one that's even in the top 20's in the nation). And... surprise! People bring up constantly how these schools are competitive and are full of assholes who think they're the shit.

Thing is... I've already dealt with that before? I took AP classes in hs, but it wasn't so bad then. But at the first school I went to, which happened to be prestigious (just not top 20), there were definitely a lot of horribly competitive, toxic, and egotistical assholes. If anything, I'm surprised the program I'm attending rn isn't like that. It's also above average, but it is online, so it does tend to draw in an older crowd/people who just want to learn.

And like I said, it's not like this shit doesn't exist elsewhere. I've been working in retail for three years. In a shitty small town. The rich snob attitude may not be so present, but there are definitely still assholes. I've legit had a manager call me r*tarded and give me tons of shit until I said something to someone (and she did this in front of other co-workers and customers). In fact, based on the two places I've worked, the co-workers can sometimes be worse than the customers (who you will probably only see for five minute max anyway). If they aren't criticizing the way you do your job or straight up verbally abusing you, they'll just act like you're too weird or annoying and sort of just shun you. Not everyone. But I'm not exactly related to anyone in this small town, nor do I fit in with the culture. So I stick out like a sore thumb. They've only recently started warming up to me a little more, but that's because I really had to learn to suppress who I am around them and be boring/agreeable.

As for customers, grey rocking and being less people pleasy makes customer service easier.

At least in a school environment, with thousands of people on campus, you can maybe look around and hope to find someone you vibe with. Tbh, I actually hate my retail environment more than when I was around those rich snobs. At least people weren't judging me for drinking bubble tea of all things (and don't think that's stopping me from buying more and drinking it at work, I just thought it was weird that my supervisor seemed bothered by it, and it just means that people will always find a reason to have problems with you so idc anymore). And I could actually talk about what I was doing in school, or the fact that I go to school at all (which is another conversation point people seem to loathe, even when they ASK). Retail likely taught me the useful skill of just keeping it shallow and neutral with people until you know them better. I have the autistic tendency to want to overshare and infodump and I've been working on doing that a lot less irl. But being so suppressed like that hasn't been good for my mental health.

So ig my point is that I'd like to pick which assholes I can tolerate more. Campus life can be a lot of fun because there are still tons of people you can try and get along with. And there are lots of things to do and explore as well. Even if you find that you don't like the people, you still might like what you're doing in school, or what the campus has to offer. My other option atm is to not get an education and almost guarantee that I will continue working shitty fucking jobs with no end in sight.

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crossbowking · 2 years

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The Sweetest Thing

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) Daryl reflects on life before the end - before he met you.

Word Count: 1,948

A/N: I'M BACK! I'm so excited to share this with y'all! It's super short, super fluffy, and super sweet (get it...like the title...lolololol) And it's also Daryl's POV! Woo!

Initially, this was going to be heart-wrenching angst, but I decided that we all could use a little lovin', ya know? I've missed y'all so much and hope my muse decides to stay awhile! I do have a few other ideas brewing muahaha!

Anyways, I might be a little rusty as I get back into the swing of writing, so any comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! (Ooh, also, if you'd like to be added to my new tag list, just give me a shout!)

Love y'all!!

xx Jess

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Daryl Dixon was no stranger to pain.

When he was eight years old, he dislocated his shoulder falling out of a rickety, old, oak tree.

He’d scrambled up the gnarled trunk, ignoring the shouts and taunts from other kids who’d chased him into the woods just beyond the schoolyard. He’d found a sturdy branch to cling to as they’d gathered at the bottom, throwing stray rocks and sticks at him, calling him names, laughing amongst themselves until they’d eventually lost interest and wandered back to the playground.

He’d waited for the bell to ring, for classes to resume and the kids to disperse to wherever they belonged — and then he’d begun climbing down. Except he’d misjudged a step and before he knew it, the harsh wooded ground was rushing up to meet him. He’d fallen, hard, on his left side, hearing a distinct popping sound on impact.

He hadn’t bothered to return to school, instead walking the thirty minutes back home, left arm cradled against his chest, sniffling softly as the burning in his shoulder intensified.

When he’d gotten home, he’d found his dad passed out drunk on the sofa, snoring so loudly he didn’t hear his son's cries.

It wasn’t until Merle had stumbled in from the local bar later that night that his shoulder was popped back into place.

When Daryl was sixteen years old, he got into his first motorcycle accident.

He’d spent all summer fixing the bike up, pouring every ounce of his time, energy, and money into the project. Merle was serving in the Marine Corps, his old man’s drinking habits were the worst they’d ever been, and Daryl had felt the sting of his father’s belt buckle one too many times.

He’d thought maybe he’d leave Georgia once and for all — travel across the country and find somewhere to settle down. Maybe he’d open an auto body shop in Montana, buy a nice house near the mountains or deep in the woods. Maybe he’d get a dog to keep him company. If he thought about it long enough, the more it seemed within reach.

He just needed to get there.

So one night in August, Daryl packed a bag and left.

He snuck out around two in the morning, not that anyone would’ve known or cared he was missing, rolled his motorcycle to the end of his street, and took off.

He’d never forget how that felt, the freedom that grew in his chest as he left his shit-hole hometown and every bad thing in it behind. It’d nearly brought tears to his eyes, the idea of starting over, of no one knowing his name, of —

Not even ten miles later, a deer ran out in front of his bike. He’d swerved, lost control, and crashed into a tree along the side of the road.

He never made it past the Georgia state line.

When Daryl was twenty-eight, he fell in love.

Well, maybe not ‘love’, but a dire and desperate attempt to feel something, anything, that wasn’t the all-consuming numbness that’d become so familiar as year after year wore on.

Julie was her name.

She was older – late thirties, early forties – with long, bleached blonde hair and a slyness that Daryl should’ve picked up on sooner. She’d frequented the dive bar he and his brother had spent most nights at, making eyes at him from across the room until one night, she’d finally approached him.

Attention was a foreign concept to Daryl – a woman’s attention, especially. His face had grown haggard with contempt and disappointment over time, a seemingly permanent scowl etched onto his face – and if that wasn’t enough of a turn-off, his sharp tongue sealed the deal. He wasn’t sure when he’d begun to lose himself, when aspects of Merle’s personality had begun to morph into his own, but it was easier to drink away the thought than confront it.

Which had led him to that dive bar, led him to Julie.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Julie had been using him to get free goods from Merle – but he’d kept that to himself. She’d simply been a distraction, nothing more, nothing less, from the darkness that’d been festering within him since before he could remember.

Their relationship had been surface level at best, but it was more than Daryl had ever had a taste of and he’d clung to it.

A few weeks later, he’d found Merle and Julie in bed together.

She’d offered a half-assed apology – though made no move to unwind herself from around his brother’s body – while Merle, on the other hand, had shot him a shit-eating grin and shrugged. “A man’s gotta eat,” he’d jeered, the indifference in his tone turning the younger brother’s vision red.

His knuckles were bruised and bloody for days after that.

Daryl Dixon was no stranger to pain.

He’d been dealt traumas that most people could never understand, would never understand. For the longest time, he’d wondered what he’d done to deserve the life he’d been given. Maybe he’d been a sinner in another lifetime, and this was his punishment – to merely exist, day in and day out with no real purpose, no meaning, with nothing more to his name than the scars he’d bear.

But then the world ended.

And, oddly enough, his life began.

“Hey, you okay?” came a sudden voice.

Daryl snapped out of his reverie, not having realized he’d zoned out to begin with. “Hm?” he murmured, blinking away the daze.

You came into focus then, watching him curiously, your brow furrowed. “You disappeared on me there for a second,” you pointed out gently, the corner of your mouth quirking.

Daryl felt his gaze flicker down towards your lips before he refocused his attention straight ahead, ignoring the heat rushing to the tips of his ears. He quickly cleared his throat, ducking his head down. “M’ here,” he rumbled, sneaking another glance at you from beneath the hair that fell across his face.

You smiled sweetly and the archer felt his stomach flip-flop as you reached towards him and brushed the strands away. “Good – try to keep it that way,” you teased, pulling away a moment later.

The archer tried to ignore the prickling beneath his skin where your fingers had grazed — like every nerve-ending had been set aflame.

“So, what’d you think?” you asked then, crossing your arms over your chest and staring down at the map splayed out between you.

Daryl redirected his attention, reaching down and smoothing out the creases that’d formed along the page. He laid his palms flat on the table, drumming his fingers as he focused on the task at hand. With Rick now running Alexandria, he’d wanted to take every precaution possible in case the community was to fall – having a backup location that was safe, secure, and well-stocked was integral. “There,” he rasped after a moment, jabbing his finger towards the shoreline. “Head east, comb the shore, see what we can see.”

You hummed softly in approval. “That’s what I was thinking,” you murmured, shifting forward and resting your hands beside his, squinting slightly as you examined where he’d pointed. “We could find a boat, fix it up,” you mused. “Maybe catch some lobster for dinner,” you glanced over at him, waggling your eyebrows.

Daryl scoffed as he straightened. “Churn some butter while we’re a’ it,” he huffed, fighting back a smile.

You laughed, his comment catching you by surprise. “Don’t act like I won’t hold you to that, Dixon,” you grinned, leaning back against the table and facing him straight on.

“Mhm,” he rolled his eyes, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his worn jeans, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You held his gaze a moment longer, something warm flashing over your face before you pushed away from the table. “Alright, I’ll update Rick and get a group together – head out in twenty?”

Daryl grunted softly in response, suddenly unable to find his voice.

“Okay, see you in a bit,” you smiled warmly, reaching out and patting the archer’s chest affectionately as you began to move past him.

But before your hand could slip away, Daryl covered it with his own and held it in place, faltering your momentum.

You shifted, turning back towards him, a puzzled look in your gaze.

“I jus’ –” he rasped, shaking his head as he ducked his head down, searching for the right words. He brushed his thumb against yours, back and forth, grounding himself, before he focused back on you.

You simply nodded, giving him the space to continue.

He cleared his throat, feeling it tighten as he forced himself to let go of a lifetime's worth of conditioned self-consciousness. He inhaled a deep breath, regarding you earnestly. “You're jus’ so damn beautiful, ya know that?” he finally mustered, his words rumbling against your intertwined hands, still pressed against his chest.

You appeared taken aback for a moment like you were wondering if you’d misheard him, or he’d misspoken. But when he merely held your stare, your features softened. “Oh,” you whispered gently.

A beat passed between you before your face lit up and you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him and sighing a long and heavy exhale.

Daryl welcomed the embrace, one arm snaking around your waist, his other hand moving to cradle the back of your head before he tightened his hold on you. His eyes closed as he breathed in the moment, committing the feeling to memory. You melted against him, nestling closer, fitting so perfectly it was as though you’d been crafted to from the very start.

When you pulled back, he couldn’t help but ache for you in the spaces you’d filled.

But then he opened his eyes and noticed the emotion that’d filled yours.

You sniffled softly, quickly swiping at a tear that’d slipped down your cheek as a hitched laugh pushed past your lips. “Now look at what you did,” you murmured playfully, almost bashfully.

Daryl snorted a breath, placing his hand against the side of your neck and using his thumb to brush away the trail of moisture left behind on your cheek. You laid your hand on top of his, leaning into his touch.

Neither of you moved for a long moment, simply breathing the other in before a small smile tugged at your lips. You shifted in his grasp, pressing a gentle kiss against his palm. “We should probably get going,” you sighed, the archer nodding once despite every fiber of his being screaming otherwise.

“Alright,” he rasped, balling his hands into fists and shoving them back into his pockets, ignoring the slight trembling in his fingertips.

“Alright,” you reiterated, a bounce in your step as you turned to leave. “Meet you at the gate?” you called from over your shoulder, yanking open the front door.

Daryl nodded once more, flicking the hair away from his face. “Mhm,” he rumbled, his voice once again lost.

“Cool,” you grinned, sending him a small wave before you slipped out, closing the door softly behind you without another word.

Daryl Dixon was no stranger to pain.

But you…

You were medicine to the sick, solace to the dying, strength to the weak. You’d crawled your way beneath his skin and called it ‘home’. You were everything he needed and nothing he deserved, and God damn it, he’d live this hellish life a thousand times over if it meant finding you.

Daryl Dixon was no stranger to pain.

But he’d shoulder the weight of the world’s suffering for you.

The sweet relief of you.

Fin.

A/N: Ugh, so cute it makes me sick :')))))) lmao hope y'all enjoyed!

By the way, did anyone see the new trailer??? I'M FREAKING.

I'm hoping to have another story out to y'all soon, so stay tuned! I'd like to shoot for a 3/4 parter, but we'll see what happens!

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

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