#raw gm

[regalityandcoffee]

Super normal about these screenshots from 2007

[gunthermunch]

may i ask why you chose head explosion as the method of death?

ernest had way too much in mind

[hartbreak-motel]

Mami really be up in everyone's business last night...

[smugraccoon137]

Not Becky being a better gm than the fucking gm *gasp*

[jew-gioh]

Never forget when Jeremy piven said summerfest instead of summerslam

[cozage]

Gm!! I saw your inbox was open!! I was hoping to request something with Sanji, Ace n Franky with a selective mute (gender neutral) reader talking to them through their voice for the first time to confess? 👉👈

(Btw I wanted to let you know that your writing has such a grip on my heart, I must have re-read your Sleepy Afternoon hcs at least a hundred times 🥺🫶 and i hope you have a wonderful day!)

So sorry I didn't get a new chapter out today...the holidays kept me busy! Enjoy these sweet short stories instead <3 Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Ace, Franky Cw:  none :) Total word count: 1600

First Words

Sanji

Ever since you joined the crew, you had found yourself gravitating toward the kitchen. 

Being with Sanji was easy. He never pestered you with questions or asked you to speak. If he did ask questions, they were always non-invasive, yes-or-no questions that you could answer with a shake of your head. 

You realized you had feelings for him when he came into the kitchen one morning, dark shadows under his eyes. And before he began cooking, he signed good morning to you. You had signed back the same phrase before you realized that he had signed, not spoken. 

He beamed with pride as your eyes widened in shock. 

“You learned how to sign?” you signed quickly. 

He focused intensely as he watched the way your hands moved, and then slowly nodded. 

“I stayed up all night trying to learn the basics. I figured it’s lonely up there in your head.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger for effect. “I’m not very good yet, but I’ll try my best to follow you if you ever feel like communicating.”

You gave a soft nod, the thought making your eyes shine. Even just the effort of knowing good morning made your heart swell. 

As the days went on, Sanji got better at sign language. So much better that he indirectly became your translator for the rest of the crew if you ever felt like adding to the conversation. He came to your defense whenever Luffy begged you to speak, and helped make sure your voice was heard without ever judging you. 

As the two of you were sitting out on the deck one night under the stars, you decided you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You had to tell him. 

“I have to tell you something,” you signed.

Sanji stood up a little straighter, looking at you with slight concern. “What is it, my love?”

“I think-” you paused your signing. Saying the words with your hands didn’t seem right. You trusted Sanji with everything. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to say it. Out loud. 

“I think-” you whispered softly, your voice raw from time unused. But you grew more confident when you spoke again. “I think I might just be in love with you, Sanji.”

You could see him struggling to understand your words; the fact that you had spoken was enough to send him into shock. 

And then he leaned in and kissed you. 

You melted under his touch. Your body craved the feeling of his skin as he held your face against his. 

“I love you too, my dear,” he whispered back. “And my name on your lips is sweeter than anything I could ever cook up.”

Ace

Ace didn’t mind that you didn’t speak a lot. Or speak at all. He did enough talking for the both of you. 

Still, you liked being around him. At meals, you often found yourself sitting next to him. At parties, he was often at your door, dragging you out onto the deck to have a few beers with everyone. 

You liked how he could bring people together. He was always the life of the party anywhere you went. You enjoyed his warmth, both through his devil fruit ability and personality. 

You often found yourself staring at him, admiring everything about him. You knew every other person on the ship was doing the same thing. So even when his eyes locked onto yours and the two of you had silent conversations, you did your best to ignore that ache in your chest. He was loved by everyone. You weren’t special. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Ace said, taking a seat next to you on the deck. “I know you didn’t want to, and I know these parties can be overwhelming. So thanks for coming for me.”

You shook your head slightly, smiling softly. It’s no big deal.

“It is a big deal! You-” the rest of his sentence was cut off by a few of your crewmates screaming at each other and everyone cheering loudly. 

“Come on,” Ace mumbled, rising to his feet and holding out his hand for you. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I can’t hear myself think here.”

You smiled and nodded, taking his hand. It was loud and overwhelming. You were here for Ace, to celebrate him being promoted. But that didn’t mean you liked being around crowds or rowdiness. 

There was only one place that was quiet on a night like tonight: the crow’s nest. So the two of you quietly snuck up the ladder and hid away from everyone. A moment of quiet amongst the sea of noise. 

“It's so peaceful up here,” Ace said softly. “I love it up here.”

You hummed in agreement. “I love you.”

Both of you froze. You hadn’t even been thinking about a confession. It had come out entirely on its own. 

You could feel Ace’s sharp gaze on you. “What?”

You cleared your throat, ignoring the heat on your face. “The view. I love the view.”

“You’re speaking.”

You finally looked at him, your voice rough. “I speak sometimes.”

“Never to me!” Ace ran his hand through his hair and took a long drink from the bottle in his hand. “You’ve never spoken to me!”

“I-” you stopped. You hadn’t spoken much since you had joined the crew. Only to Pops, really. And only whenever you were asked a direct question. Ace had probably never heard your voice. “I thought you had. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Ace said, laughing. “I just want to hear more of it! Tell me a story! Your voice is- is like-” he struggled for words, and then he smiled as his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

“It is not,” you smiled at his words, though. “You just feel that way because we can breathe up here without smelling our lovely crewmates.”

Ace barked out a laugh. “Stunning and funny. You really are the total package.”

You quieted at that. A true compliment from Ace didn’t happen often, and you could feel the blush creeping its way through your face. 

Instead, you laid back and turned your head toward the sky, choosing to watch the stars instead. You were almost asleep when Ace spoke again.

“I love you too, you know.”

Franky

You liked being in the workshop with Franky. Franky never tried to get you to speak. Most of the time it was too loud in there to hold a conversation anyway. The extent of your conversation was him asking you to get a tool for him, and you silently retrieving it. 

You weren’t sure it changed into something more, but you began watching him closely as he worked. After a day or two, he began explaining what he was building and all the steps that went into it. It wasn’t long before you were working on the bench next to him. 

Some days, Franky was chatty. He talked about his home, his old life, and other projects he had done. Sometimes he asked you simple questions about your past, but he never pried too deep. 

That’s what you liked most about Franky. Everything had been on your terms, and Franky had always received your decisions enthusiastically. He always supported you when you wanted to help him build a bench, but he also encouraged you to take rest days when you simply wanted to observe. 

Franky was always on your side. No matter what you decided, he was going to agree. He was your biggest fan, always cheering you on. 

And as his strong arms wrapped around you, both of you holding the torch to weld two pieces of metal together, you realized the heat on your face wasn’t just from the flame. 

Franky pulled his welding helmet up. “So, do you like welding?”

You nodded. “I think I like you more, Franky.”

Franky’s mouth fell open in shock. For once, you had stunned him into silence. Only the hum of the generator buzzed in the air. 

The silence made you feel strange, and words began falling out of your mouth in an attempt to fill it. 

“You’re so kind and supportive to me and you always help me learn new things. You’ve been so amazing and patient these past few weeks and you’re always so encouraging and…I just…I like you a lot, Franky, and I was just thinking about how I wanted to tell you and then it just…came out.”

Franky was still staring at you, awestruck. “You can speak?” 

You covered your face. He was missing the whole point. Maybe he would forget the words you had actually said. 

He seemed to remember your words at that exact moment. “Me? You like me?”

A small smile creeped across your face. No backing down now. “Yes, I do.”

“Super!” His words made you laugh. “I’ve liked you for quite some time as well. Just didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Your smile finally widened, full and genuine. “You’re the place I feel most comfortable, Franky.”

He gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for an embrace. “And I will never stop being that for you, I swear it.”

[msbigredmachine]

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

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Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

--------------

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

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[houseofveda]

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[regalityandcoffee]

CW: Yelling

I am once again wondering why William never broke into acting when he had THIS amount of range, how he could go from comedic genius to utterly terrifiying

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

⚔️ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Staff of the Arcanum
Staff, legendary (requires attunement by a wizard) ___ This staff is made of both raw and polished obsidian. Your Intelligence and Wisdom scores each increase by 2, up to a maximum of 22, while you're attuned to it. In addition, you can use your Arcane Recovery twice between long rests, instead of once. This staff can be wielded as a magic quarterstaff that grants a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with it. While you hold it, you gain a +2 bonus to spell attack rolls. A target hit with the staff takes an extra 1d10 force damage and is pushed up to 10 feet away from you. 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜. This staff stores spells cast into it, holding them until you use them. The staff can store up to 5 levels worth of spells at a time. When found, it contains 1d6 − 1 levels of stored spells chosen by the GM. Any creature can cast a spell of 1st through 5th level into the staff by touching the staff as the spell is cast. The spell has no effect, other than to be stored in the staff. If the staff can't hold the spell, the spell is expended without effect. The level of the slot used to cast the spell determines how much space it uses. While holding this staff, you can cast any spell stored in it. The spell uses the slot level, spell save DC, spell attack bonus, and spellcasting ability of the original caster, but is otherwise treated as if you cast the spell. The spell cast from the staff is no longer stored in it, freeing up space. 𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚. The "staff of the arcanum" is a sentient chaotic good staff with an Intelligence of 18, a Wisdom of 15, and a Charisma of 13. It has hearing and darkvision out to a range of 120 feet. The staff communicates telepathically with its wielder and can speak, read, and understand Common. While you're attuned to it, it also understands every language you know. 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮. The "staff of the arcanum" is bookish and, at times, stuck up. It refuses to lend its strength to liches, however, preventing them and similar necromancers from using the staff's properties. At the GM's discretion, the staff may choose to cast a stored spell on its own (no action required by you). ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[vintagerpg]

OK, this book is bold as hell. Old Ones (1984), the SECOND book in the Palladium Role-Playing Game line and already going for the Cthulhu monsters. Right there on the cover! A shapeless horror! Imagine what kind of RPG would do that. Because, actually, the Palladium Role Playing Game doesn’t, really. This isn’t an entire book dedicated to the Old Ones. It isn’t even sorta dedicated to cosmic horrors.

Instead, it opens with two new classes: the Monk and the Illusionist. Then, over 120 pages (of a 210 page book), we get the Kingdom of Timiro: a brief history, eight cities, 25 towns and 21 forts. This is followed by eight scenarios, at least two of which, admittedly, do visit places built or once inhabited by Old Ones. The source material for the Old Ones is the very last thing in the book, begins on page 208, is padded out by a full-page illustrations on 209, and fills most of 210. Like I said, BOLD.

That said, this is good stuff, actually. A little too much (I don’t think I’ve used more than three forts in my entire D&D career?) but still, there are tons of raw material here for a GM to plunder. I don’t think any of the adventures are particularly noteworthy, but again, the dungeon complexes are solid and stealable.

Nice art throughout all by Michael Kucharski, who I don’t know beyond his Palladium work. Kevin Siembieda did the cover, and its pretty good despite the lack of Old Ones inside.

[tinyfantasminha]

Jumping on the Jack R outrage bandwagon

What also gets me about Jack getting another R card, is this also means Savanaclaw is the only dorm now to not have a Halloween SSR card. And this is just my prediction, but given the way that Jack's card is the only one that doesn't have ribbons or strings attached to the side, he's probably going to be pretty important to the story, aka with the puppet theme and likely people being controlled, it feels like he's not going to be controlled and making him Very Important for the story line

Anyways Justice for Jack

So far, I noticed that ALL the halloween events had at least one dorm leader SSR; Vil for SM, Riddle for EH, Malleus, Idia and Azul for GM and now Kalim for PL; Which makes it highly likely that Leona will be 2024's halloween SSR! It will happen, it's only a matter of time (that rules out Jack and Ruggie as possible halloween SSRs for next year tho 💔)

NO LISTEN I'VE BEEN THINKING THE SAME. ABOUT HOW JACK'S OUTFIT SEEMS DIFFERENT THAN THE OTHERS

Out of the R cards, Lilia, Trey and Jade all have loose ribbons on their sides. Now look at Jack; his ribbons aren't loose, but rather...

...They are tied to his cuffs and connected to his back. Why only he has ribbons tied that way?? And something that particularly makes me uneasy is why he has ribbons tied to his knees. Doesn't that seem oddly restricting? Especially for THE most athletic and physically strong character?

Notice that it's a single ribbon, tying his knees together. All of the ribbons on his cuffs and knees seem to be of enough length to make him move comfortably at least, but wouldn't that prove to be a hassle for his movements in case of an emergency? He can't properly run with his legs tied like that. He can't properly fight using fists with his arms tied like that.

Considering the boys did not choose their outfits (it magically appears on their bodies once they enter inside playful land) it's almost as if... That was purely intentional on Fellow's part. As if he's wary of Jack and is very much conscious about how he could use his raw strength to break out, and the ribbons tying up his limbs is to ensure that he will stay contained and restricted like a dog on a leash.

Nothing is confirmed yet but I sure hope those ribbons will have a bigger role in the plot and aren't there just for aesthetics 😭 If those ribbons really will be like strings that holds a puppet together, I can imagine that Lilia's, Trey's and Jade's ribbons will be holding them up like they're puppets and Jack's ribbons will be for restricting him.

Ok as much as I'd love for Jack to be important in the story I don't think that's going to happen since he's merely a R card AGAIN and much less will be of more importance than the others 😭 Whatever predicament happens to Jack will likely happen to the R characters (and SRs?) as well, like being restricted or controlled. The SSRs are supposed to be the protagonists of the story after all. BUT I still hope there's a small scene that shows his ribbons restricting him and proves that the placement of HIS ribbons especially aren't just for show 😳😳😳

[sydsaint]

More of my fav NXT himbo <3

Summary: Adam Pearce tasks the reader with making sure that Bron is ready to sign an exclusive Raw contract instead of signing with his rival Nick Aldis on Smackdown.

"So you're all set for tomorrow night?" Pearce has a chat with you at the end of RAW. "I set it all up and let Shawn know that you'd be there." He adds.

"I've got it down boss." You assure Pearce. "My flight leaves tonight. I'll be in Orlando in a few hours and sleep it off at the hotel. Then tomorrow night Bron Breakker is all mine." You grin to yourself, a smile that slightly worries poor Adam.

Pearce rubs the back of his neck and grabs your arm. "You're there to get the kid to sign to Raw before Nick Aldis can get his hooks in him, YN." He reminds you. "Not scare the poor guy into Aldis' arms."

"Adam! I've got it." You laugh and pat Pearce's arm. "Trust me. I'm going to make that unsuspecting hunk an offer that he can't refuse." You flash a wicked grin.

Adam sighs and shakes his head but lets you go anyway. You scare the poor man sometimes. But if there is one thing that Adam is sure of. It's that you are damn good at your job, despite your youth.

You catch your flight out to Orlando and game plan on the trip over. After some quick chats with a few of your girlfriends from NXT you've made the determination that Bron and Cora have been broken up for a while. And you've also been informed that Rick Steiner's ridiculously hunky son is back on the prowl for a new girl as of late.

The next afternoon you head into the center where NXT is filmed and swing by Shawn's office for a quick chat. Pearce let Shawn know you'd be coming by, and that you're out scouting new talent as well.

"Shawn! It's good to see you again!" You greet the NXT executive when you arrive. "And Ava! Congratulations on the promotion to GM!" You notice Ava Raine is present as well.

"It's a pleasure seeing you again, YN." Shawn shakes your hand. "Adam Pearce let me know that you're here to scout some of our talent?" He asks you.

You nod and shake hands with Ava as well. "Yes. After Mr. Aldis went ahead and scooped up Miss Straton, Pearce didn't want to wait until the next draft." You explain.

Shawn nods and you talk with him and Ava for a bit. Shawn dismisses himself to take care of something a bit later and you're left alone with Ava.

"So, do you like the GM job so far?" You ask Ava.

"Yeah!" Ava nods. "It's nice to be in charge of stuff. Plus the pay is great!" She jokes. "So, who do you have your sights set on?" She asks you.

A hint of a smile plays on your face at Ava's question. "Don't tell Shawn, but I've actually got my eyes on one man and one man only." You inform her.

"Oh?" Ava replies with intrigue. "Who?" She asks you.

"Bron Breakker." You answer Ava's question with a grin.

Ava giggles and nods her head. "Good choice." She compliments you. "He's got his own locker room just fyi." She adds suggestively. "I can show you where it is if you want?"

"I like the way you think, Ava." You laugh and nod.

Ava shows you down to the locker rooms and down to the one with Bron's nametag stuck to it. The two of you stop a bit down the hall and turn to one another. "Well, good luck." Ava wishes you luck. "He's scheduled for a match at the end of the show so you've got about two hours with him." She adds. "Oh, and a piece of advice? Bron may seem all mean scary. But he's all bark no bite, trust me." She offers you some last-minute advice.

"Oh, really? My favorite." You grin. "Thank you, Ava. And good luck with the GM position." You shake hands with her again before Ava heads off.

You turn toward the locker room door and stride up to it. You knock twice sharply on the door and wait for an answer. You can hear rustling on the other side of the door for a moment before the locker room cracks open.

Bron answers the door wrapped in a towel and dripping wet from the shower. "Oh, well aren't I one damn lucky girl." You muse.

"YN?" Bron stares at you with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Heya, Bronson. Miss me?" You ask with a grin and step over the threshold of the door.

Bron instinctively takes a step back as you approach him. You take the chance and kick the door shut behind you. "Umm, yeah sure. What are you doing here?" He asks you.

"Oh, I'm on some business for Adam Pearce from Raw." You explain.

"Well, yeah." Bron replies. "I kind of meant what are you doing in here?" He asks you. "In my locker room."

You meander around the locker room with a shrug, making Bron watch you curiously with every step. "Well I guess that I'll get right to business then." You stop back in front of Bron. "Rumor is Nick Aldis has been sniffing around you as of late. I'm here to make sure his sniffing ends here and now. Because you aren't going to waste your time on the B show Fridays." You speak matter-of-factly.

"I'm not?" Bron asks you, still clearly confused.

"Oh no, baby." You shake your head. "You and those insanely distracting broad shoulders of yours are coming with me to Raw."

The bewilered look plastered on Bron's face makes you smile and you have to stifle a laugh You were expecting the guy to at least put up some sort of fight. A little verbal sparring at least. But you've got Bron caught like a deer in headlights.

"We-I-Umm, alright." Bron stutters as you step toward him.

"Atta boy, Bron. That's what I like to hear" You pat his chest. "Now as for the rumor that you and Cora Jade aren't together anymore. Is it true?" You ask him.

Bron nods, clutching onto his towel for dear life. "Yeah, we've been split for a while. I've actually been back in the game for a few weeks now." He adds."

"I heard." You nod. "Well, you're in luck Bron. It just so happens that if you were to sign with Raw instead of Smackdown, you get me as a signing bonus."

"You?" Bron replies.

You nod again and your hand dances up Bron's damp chest. "Mhm. And we both know that you've always had a thing for me, Bronson." You insist. "So really it's a win-win situation for both of us." You explain.

"Right." Bron nods. "I mean...I really can't argue with anything you've got going on here, YN." He admits."

"I know!' You giggle. "Isn't it great how easy I make things?" You tease him. "Now! Get dressed and enjoy your last night as a member of the NXT roster. You'll find an email waiting for you with all the travel information you'll need forr Raw. And I will see that adodrably perplexed face on Monday night." You lean up and kiss his cheek. "Chau, handsome."

Speechless, Bron watches you turn on your heels and exit his locker room as swiftly as you come in. He walks over to his phone and sure enough, there's the email you mentioned. Sent over an hour ago. Bron laughs to himself at the confidence of the move. But he likes it. You're right, he's always liked you. And to have you show up to his locker room and insinuate that you're just as into him and he is in you is all that Bron needs to know he'll for sure be on Raw Monday night.

[killer-orca-cosplay]

Headcanons from my Lancer session last night, specifically about different megacorps food rations, and their overall palatability;

GMS/Union (they're basically the same thing in this case): Absolutely the bare minimum. They'll keep you alive, they'll keep you full, but they don't really taste like anything and dont exactly have a palatable consistency. I described them as "tasting pleasanty of nothing in particular", similar to Imperial Guard survival rations mentioned in the Cain books. Once again, the absolute bare minimum.

ISP-N (Specifically in relation to my character Lyons, whos an imprint of a dead Caliban test pilot now put into a comatose cloned body, and therefor a former ISP-N employee): Think the space equivilent of Naepoleonic shipping wares for a sailor. Yes, that includes space hardtack. You do get a couple pounds of salted meat-equivilent and a ration of booze, however, so it all balances out. Yes, space grog is on the menu. As are space-lemons to prevent future-scurvy.

SSC: You remember that little pill thing in the first Spy Kids movie? The one you shoved in the microwave and an entire McDonalds kids meal came out hot and steaming? Thats SSC rations. You shove them into an SSC matter recombiner and you have an entire four course meal before you, including fitting wine and appertifs. Most soldiers dont actually have to make it themselves of course, theres usually someone around to do it for them. Because this is SSC, that waiter may or may not be human. Or close to human. (There was a 20 minute rant about cat girl maids and feet following this take that as you will)

Harrison Armory: Literally just space MREs. Lots and lots of fried meat, and jerky. Oh, and also the return of the "rat-fuck bag", because of course that would be a thing. Just dont ask where the "mystery meat" comes from, its all labeled as originating on [REDACTED].

Horus: Since its not really a company and is more of a web presence, "rations" for Horus would consist of hacker fuel; Gamersups from a container with a waifu on it, mech-sized bags of ranch chips, and multi-gallon containers of energy drink.

Alternatively, its just raw memes shoved straight into your cranium so you need not worry about feeling hungry or thirsty at all.

[level2janitor]

Diceless skills

the more i run and play RPGs, the more i start to be skeptical of dice. i like dice - i like rolling them, i think there's a whole lot of areas where they make a game better. but i'm skeptical about how they're the assumed default for how you resolve stuff.

ramble about ttrpg design under the cut

the way D&D handles skills is simple: you roll a die. if it's a big enough number (modified by the difficulty of the task & how good you are at it) you succeed. if not, you fail (usually meaning nothing happens). what this amounts to is a random chance to fail.

there's storygames that use more nuanced mechanics - no null result! rolling low is less 'total failure' and more that some twist happens. that can be more interesting. (i'm not familiar with a whole lot of storygames, so this is an oversimplification based on my limited knowledge, correct me if i'm wrong)

now these generally work fine for what those games are trying to do. they use uncertainty to generate drama: oh, shit, i failed the super-important deception check to convince the guards i'm a harmless merchant, now the situation escalates. perfectly good mechanic for your standard 5e campaign.

but that kind of stopped working as soon as i branched out into OSR games.

see, dice fill a very different role in an OSR game. these systems are designed with high lethality in mind - your fighter has 1d8 hit points, a sword deals 1d8 damage, you just die at 0HP. if you run them like 5e, you start killing PCs left at right and it can be very demoralizing.

the intended playstyle is, instead, that the players circumvent die rolls through cleverness - once combat starts, your fate is in the hands of the dice, so you make plans that avoid combat or swing the odds so far in your favor that the risk is worth it. so the dice still feel like they fill a good role, making combat deadly and unpredictable on purpose to set that dynamic.

this breaks down when you use the same logic for basic task resolution. most OSR games don't have skills, but i often see the misconception that you're supposed to use raw ability checks instead or the GM makes up a success chance on a d6. these fundamentally do the same thing as a traditional roll-to-win skill system: make luck a factor in basic task resolution.

the problem is OSR games have such high stakes in the form of very possible character death that involving luck in basic task resolution can be disproportionately punishing. "you failed the stealth check, roll initiative!" works alright in 4e or 5e where combat is the game, but in the OSR that's a line you very rarely want to cross.

(this is also why old-school D&D isn't my OSR of choice, since the thief just makes a bunch of tasks into die rolls with abysmally low success chances you'd never want to rely on)

instead the expectation is the GM is both generous and transparent with task resolution. most things should be a success or not doable; if something has notable consequences or is iffy enough to require a die roll, the GM should tell the player what is at stake before they commit to taking the action. (die rolls still have a place in terms of risk management but i feel they should be opt-in.)

this has worked pretty well in my games, but i missed skills as ways to differentiate PCs and allow specialization into different areas. it's a lever for customizing your character that i really like about D&D, helping two members of the same class feel distinct. so the best skill system i've found that still works well in this environment is this one borrowed from Joseph Manola:

Spending a skill slot on something means you are really good at that skill, and will always succeed at attempts to use it (emphasis mine) except under severely adverse conditions. If you have the Climbing skill, for example, you can automatically climb any normal surface you encounter, although doing so quickly or quietly might still require a Dexterity check.

it's a houserule i put into my Grave campaign for my home group and a core mechanic for iron halberd, and everywhere i've put it, it's run smooth as butter.

it feels like it slots into the OSR playstyle so, so much better than the old-D&D thief skills. die rolls are almost a punishment, so why bake them into the task resolution players use when playing as intended? the diceless skills are instead a reliable tool in your toolbox, and problem-solving with them should be rewarded.

i've also worked out what i think is the ideal number of skills for an average PC - two. less than that feels highly restrictive, while more than that feels like you have everything you really want for most PCs (thus devaluing PCs that spec into having more than two). i let players drop an attribute by 1 for an extra skill or vice versa, to allow for some PCs to be more skill-focused than others.

other variations on this idea include Dice Goblin's time, gear, skill system. i like this one because it's easy to houserule in a way for a player to double down on a skill - spending 2 skills on the same skill just lets that skill count for 2 requirements instead of 1.

overall they've been fun to use and players feel good using them. they do lose that drama aspect, but i find it easy enough to create tension in other ways in an OSR game. i might even try putting them in a non-OSR game because they've just worked really well.

[stripeydani]

Generally speaking the storytelling for RAW was pretty bad in 2007. So I found it so interesting that they had Cody Rhodes begging acting-GM Jon Coachman not to let John Cena's father fight Randy Orton, reminding him that his own father was attacked and injured by Orton, and even asking to be put in the match in Mr. Cena's place.

Coachman refused (though how he resisted those premium puppy-dog eyes I have no idea) but Cody interrupted the match anyway to (unsuccessfully) try and save Mr. Cena. True babyface.