#when you’ve got stuff to track that D&D beyond doesn’t do for you

[ff-imagines]

uhm this is embarrassing thing to request but,,,,,,, how bout u know,,,,,, nsfw alphabet/scenario/hcs with blobster. 👁️👄👁️. I'm sorry.

Boston lobster: nsfw alphabet

Minors dni xoxo

A - aftercare

Admittedly kinda sloppy, it doesn’t occur to him that he should probably check up on you till he’s like “oh shit humans need water” and he suddenly shoots up to grab some and come back to you lmao

If you explicitly ask you get no back talk from him, he just carries you where you need to be and makes sure you’re feeling alright.

Will be endlessly prideful if u say you can’t walk, express your soreness at your sanities risk bc he’ll bring it up for ages

B- body parts

Oh he’s got no shame to tell you he loves your ass and thighs. The type to walk by you and give you a tap on the ass while smirking to himself. Doesn't matter how much or how little you've got he’ll still ask at least once if he can fuck your thighs lmao

Does his height count? He loves how he towers over most humans and food souls alike, chances are he’s probably taller than you, and he really likes that. Sulks a bit if you’re actually taller than him lmao.

They aren’t his favourite part of him but I gotta talk about the antennae. They’re weirdly sensitive, pulling him makes him squeak, which ends with him chasing you or with him chasing you, take your pick. When he catches you he makes it his goal to find a weirdly sensitive part of your body and to tease that spot endlessly. Tickle fight ensues but it’s more like you’re suffering while he’s maniacally laughing above you.

C - cum

It’s thick as fuck and very salty, rip lmao

He likes to cum inside or on your thighs, look they’re very squishy and nice ok he can’t help it </3

He’s also obsessed with not only making you cum, but just… your cum. Amab or afab readers, he will delight in making you watch him swallow. Would also bring his hand up to make you taste yourself, grinning the whole damn way.

D - dirty secret

He’s really affected by scents. If you have a signature perfume or cologne you wear all the time it can make him unbearably horny, since the smell lingers on his sheets and on his clothes long after you’re gone.

E - experience

A fair amount, out of curiosity. Not too many times as he’s spent a lot of years in total isolation. His curiosity is a more recent development, he finds he likes the feeling but something is just missing from his hookups. Then he meets you and is like “ohhhh a relationship is what it was, damn.” Once he realizes that, and even a little bit before when he first starts noticing his internal unease, the hookups stop so he can figure out how to swallow his pride and try and ask a human out lmao

F - favorite position

He loves doggy style because it’s just so so easy to control you that way. He loves to pull you back by your arms, spearing inside you at a punishing pace.

He also would love if you were flexible enough to push into a mating press, getting right next to your ear, whispering about how close he is.

G - goofy

Surprisingly, yea! He’s actually pretty good at making fun of himself, he just doesn’t do it often and doesn’t like it when someone he’s not close to does it. He gives little teases here and there, it eases tension quite a lot.

H- hair

He doesn’t shave for shit lmao. Intense happy trail, intense amount of body hair over all, he actually prefers it that way.

He keeps the same energy with your body hair and will come out and tell you he kinda likes it if you don’t shave. Ultimately he doesn’t think on it too hard, it doesn’t bother him in the end, whatever you want, he wants too!

I- intimacy

He’s not so good at being truly intimate, it’s just not something he’s used to being. If you ever, by some miracle, convince him to let you top him, he’s actually a lot softer and it’s easier to let his feelings speak for him. He also discovers he likes getting dommed a lot but he won’t tell you that lmao

J- jerk off

Not too often, he’s either super busy or he could just find you and solve the problem in an even more satisfying way.

If he ever can’t, expect him to grab one of your shirts to press to his nose as he fists his cock, the feeling of being surrounded by you is enough to help him finish when he desperately needs it.

K- Kinks

Well, the scent thing ofc.

He’s really into risky sex, a true exhibitionist. He’s hot, you’re hot, who wouldn’t want to see you both put on a show? If it gets it into their heads that no matter how bad they want you, you belong to him, your place is right here, getting split apart on his cock, he’ll make sure the message gets across.

Huge breeding kink. Hates the idea of kids but really likes the idea of claiming your insides. He’d love to push you into the mattress and release as deep as he can go.

He’s into humiliation as well, let him tease you while calling you his sweet little whore, he'll make it worth your while.

He’d love if you let him tie you up, he’d probably get into doing fancy designs that accentuates your body in the best way. A pretty rope to tie up and dick down a pretty s/o.

Also I can’t look at his skin where he’s got that suit on and not know he’s got a daddy kink, I just can’t. He doesn’t care for anything other than the title, it’s more about power than anything else. Call him daddy in public and watch how fast you get taken to a more private area. Or, maybe a less than private area, if you’d let him.

He’s got a thing for size difference as well, he loves to loom over you, even if he isn’t actually bigger than you.

L- location

Anywhere, anytime. He’s a prideful bastard, he’ll show off his ability to get you drunk off his cock any way he can. Not only isn’t there a spot in your house he hasn’t fucked you on, there probably isn’t a place on your street either.

M- motivation

What really gets him going is seeing you when you're at your most confident. If you come to him beaming about winning an award, wearing an outfit you feel great in, even if you just say something cocky, it just makes him so proud and eager to share that confidence with you. He doesn’t want to break you down, he wants to prop you up! Tell him about how good you feel, he’ll make you feel even better <3

N- no

As much as he likes to show you off, he doesn’t actually like the thought of a third party joining in. He might be swayed if it’s someone he really trusts. He also doesn't like receiving humiliation, he’s much too prideful lmao

O- oral

Please suck him off, he’ll be kinda rough with you but he’ll be nicer if you ask. He prefers to be mean though lmao. He likes ordering you around on what to do when you’ve got his dick in your mouth, his words get more incoherent the closer he is, though.

He’s just as eager to give you head too, he treats you like a whole 7 course meal. He loves biting around your thighs before ever touching where you're desperate for him to.

P- pace

Oh he’s punishingly hard. Loves to have a fast steady pace then stop as deep as he can and roll his hips a bit to make sure you feel just how deep his dick is inside you.

There are rare days when he’s feeling soft, those days he’s slow and methodical, gripping into your hips to make sure you can’t wiggle to increase your own pleasure, he wants you to savour the high he gives you.

Q- quickies

Well, why not! So what if you’re in an alleyway near a busy street, and anyone can walk by and see you getting pounded? You’re feeling heated aren’t you? Don't kid yourself, just turn around and let him take care of you.

R- risk

He lives for it. If you’d let him he’d bounce you on his cock in a plainly public place, like a subway car.

It’s a big fantasy of his for someone who absolutely pines for you to flirt just a little too hard, you coming to him and letting him fuck your right in front of them. It fuels his pride beyond belief to show you off.

S- stamina

His refractory time is fairly low. Even if he...can? doesn't really mean he wants to. He prefers either one drawn out, long round where you’ve both been edged to the point of desperation, or a few quick rounds throughout the day.

T- toys

At first they kinda hurt his pride but then he’s like “wait I can strap them on a vibrator and just sit back and watch” and then he’s totally on board lmao.

Forcing you to sit on a chair with a vibrator he had the remote to, keeping you on the edge and smirking while you beg and snivel, having no actual plans to give into your pleading.

U- unfair

Oh fuck yea, strap in babes.

He loves loves to edge the fuck out of you, he’d drag it out for hours if you’d let him. Even better if he can tie you down so you can’t squirm away from what he’s giving you.

Overstimulation is just as exciting to him, but he actually loves it more on himself. Sometimes he’ll overstimulate himself on purpose by still continuing to buck into you even after he’s already cum, determined to chase a second high no matter how painful it feels.

V- volume

Loud groans, and he won’t stop talking. Loves to ask you questions when you’re clearly way too blissed out to answer in any sort of coherent way.

He gets a lot louder near his release, he loves to bite into your shoulder to try and muffle himself. If he decides to be bold and let you hear him, he grabs your jaw and brings his face right next to your ear. What a show off.

W- wild card

He kidnaps small items that remind him of you, not just things that smell like you. That one earring you always wear, a glove, a necklace, picks flowers that remind him of you for whatever reason, he might even go out of his way to buy things that remind him of you, keep them to himself for a while, then give it to you when he’s sure it smells enough like him. He gives your stuff back… eventually.

X- X Ray

Oh please… he spits, sweats, and bleeds big dick energy. I refuse to believe his dick isn’t big enough to make you nervous. Would have you sit on his lap and track a finger up your stomach to measure how deep his cock can go.

Y- yearning

He’s pretty likely to mold to your sexual drive. However often you need him, he’s at your beck and call. He likes to keep it closer to 2-3 times a week if he can.

Z- zzz

He doesn’t sleep all that easily at all, but it gets a little easier when he’s got you in his arms. Prefers to be big spoon, and as much as he hates getting overheated, he just can’t will himself to let go of you. It’s ironically one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff boston lobster #ff boston lobster x reader

[marshmurmurs]

hey. hey psst. grian & purpled friends au is a banger. you um, you got any more? mayhaps?

Ok so you're gonna have to bear with me for aa few moments since this au is made by someone who hasn't watched Evo in a hot second and someone who I believe hasn't yet finished watching it, so we are mostly working off of fanon and my terrible memory for Watcher stuff

With that said, you've heard of Watcher!Grian, now get ready for Watcher!Purpled too :D

So you’re probably wondering how in the world we got here. It started with Peggy mentioning that Purpled got a clean view of both Tommy’s duel with Dream and Phil taking out Wil. That’s enough for me to start the Watcher propaganda babey!!!

“They watch but cannot be seen”

I'm pretty sure I yoinked this quote from a sign that showed up in some Watcher thing at some point. Purpled sure does watch. I also believe he has done some messing around with replay mod to see inside the prison or something? So yeah, Watcher boy be looking. And the “cannot be seen” part? He’s constantly falling into the background, almost forgotten, and maybe it's in his very nature.

Grian and Purp were both Watchers, though their time as Watchers only briefly overlapped. Purpled was already a Watcher during Evo times, having been picked up by the Watchers while traveling the void in his spaceship. They had promised him he would become something greater than himself, he would be part of something important, he would have a legacy. Purpled went along with them, at first, it wasn’t like he really had anything better to be doing. Besides, the magic and wings he got out of the deal were pretty cool.

It was when the Watchers started looking to recruit Grian that Purpled started to question why he was there. That legacy they promised him, he wasn't sure if they ever delivered on that. If anything, it was the Watchers that were benefiting off of him. The Evolutionists were the only people who were confident in their existence, and even then, they only knew of the group as a whole. They had no idea how many of them there were or of any of the individuals within. He doesn’t think that was ever what he wanted out of joining the Watchers... He wasn’t actually sure what he had wanted out of them.

Purpled noticed the Watchers focusing their attention on Grian, he saw how they worked to break down his will to rebel. Sure, he had joined them, but it wasn't like he had been told all their rules upfront. Naturally the guy who had continuously tested the limits of their patience when they had been some unknown power wouldn’t stop that just because he was one of them now. Grian would push the limits of what he was allowed to do, finding loopholes, dancing around the rules, and even outright breaking them at times. The two interacted a few times and Purpled liked the guy well enough. He liked him enough to break the rules himself and not report Grian when he caught him breaking some rules, he even pointed out a few spots in the rules where the phrasing could be exploited. Still, he recognized the opportunity Grian’s presence provided him. Purpled was no longer the newest Watcher, no longer constantly under their gaze. He could just leave, and if he was smart about it, he could get away and have plenty of time before anyone noticed.

So he did. With a final o7 to Grian, Purpled left. Their final encounter within the Watchers domain went something like this:

Purpled: Hey do you want some advice?

Grian: Sure

Purpled: *walks away never to be seen again within the Watcher’s domain*

It was only later that Grian realized what the advice was, long after he began sneaking out, began testing the limits of what he could do. It was long after he figured out that an eye couldn't really look within itself and he could use the very powers the Watchers had given him to hide himself from them, long after he'd made his own domain, long after he'd slipped away to a land he created specifically to stay out of their sight and reach that he realized what the advice was. Purpled had left. His advice was to leave. Grian had—albeit unknowingly—followed that advice.

Purpled had taken a much different method to getting away. Instead of making himself untraceable, he hid in plain sight. He went to Hypixel and made a name for himself playing Bedwars. With each game he won, with each game he clutched, he amassed supporters. Players, believers and doubters alike, began to bet on the outcome of his matches. Purpled had made himself seen. He knew the Watchers knew he was there, but that was the point. They couldn’t reach him, not without breaking their own rules, at least. Unlike the two Players turned Watchers, the original Watchers cared deeply for and were bound by their rules. Even if they had tried anything, Purpled managed to create his own legacy, making for himself what they never could. Beyond that, he'd found friends, he'd built a community, surrounded himself with people who would look for him and make themselves a problem for the Watchers if they tried to make him go back. They were forced to sit by and do nothing as he continuously broke their most important rule.

Purpled didn't need the Watchers, he never did.

Grian didn't really know how he felt about the Watchers. He didn't think he hated them, not really. The Watchers had given him a taste of true freedom then immediately began to restrain him. They'd given him wings and the power to create worlds in mere seconds, something which would not only take a regular Admin a much longer time, it would require a significant amount of preparation. He was given the world at his fingertips but was limited by the long list of rules the Watchers enforced. He doesn't regret joining them—he wouldn't give up his wings for the world—but they just weren't enough. The more they tried to make him fit their mold of a perfect little Watcher, the more sure of that he became.

It was almost funny, the Watchers had become stricter in order to prevent another Purpled situation. They were trying to ensure Grian wouldn’t leave them too, but in doing so, they had given him reason to. He was a bit curious though, he wondered what Purpled was up to now. Grian hadn’t gotten news about him since he’d left the Watchers.

So Grian went to Hypixel, he wanted to see if he could track down Purpled. He knew the other was there, judging by the leaderboards, but he couldn’t seem to catch him around the hub. He managed to track down gamblers betting on Purpled's victories. Grian followed that lead, tailing the person who was updating them on the results of Purpled's matches. Somehow that person continued to find intel without Grian catching where Purpled was. It made no sense, and if he was being honest with himself, it had long since reached the point of being frustrating. Eventually, after an infuriating amount of dead ends Grian decided he may as well play a few games before calling it a day and heading home. He tried a few solo matches of bedwars and while PvP wasn't really his thing, he had to admit throwing fireballs at people was pretty fun.

Grian finding Purpled wasn't even intentional on his part. At that point he wasn’t even actively looking or playing the game properly. He’d simply started building houses after politely asking people to leave him alone with varying levels of success. After a few games, he received a friend request from the person who had won the last match with a message inviting him to join them for some doubles. Grian accepted after a moment of thought, they seemed polite enough. They had left him for last when it would’ve been way easier and much more convenient to just continue their clockwise sweep.

It didn’t take Grian long to realize that his new companion was nicked, though to be fair, he was too. It’s not that he particularly cared when someone was nicked, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. There was something about this person, the way they held themself, the general energy around them, something that just felt so familiar. Try as he might, though, Grian couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

It was when he noticed the absolute confidence and ease in which his companion threw themself into the void that Grian finally gave in to his curiosity. Players usually avoid the void, and even if they did jump into it for strategic purposes, he's never seen anyone

recover as fast as his companion did. While they ran off to go stab someone who was getting too close to their area for comfort, Grian tried to look past their disguise. He was met with resistance, surprisingly. Usually looking past a Player being nicked was no issue. He pushed harder, it was more than just curiosity at this point, he needed to know who this was, why they were able to resist him. Somehow the results were worse this time. Grian realized with increasing bewilderment that he could no longer even see his companion. His teammate was just gone, there one moment and gone the next.

Grian blinked away the purple in his eyes, focusing on his surroundings. There were no new bridges leading away, his teammate was still in the game, and they hadn't died. Where could they have gone? He continued to scan the island when he was suddenly hit with the overwhelming sense of being watched. There, standing beside him was his teammate, eyes glowing the same purple Grian's had moments before.

"Something wrong, Grian?"

It all clicked for him then. His nicked companion was the guy he had been looking for the entire time, he’d only just now decided to reveal himself. Of course Grian’s Watcher abilities hadn’t helped, Purpled had way more power here than he did. He was just a guest in the other’s domain, he never had a chance of finding him if he hadn’t wanted to be found.

“Y’know, you could have been a lot clearer.”

“Rule 7. Besides, you figured it out, didn’t you?”

Once they reunited, the two realized they still got along well. They agreed to keep in contact, and they did. Grian would sometimes hop onto Hypixel to join Purpled for a few games—always nicked, they didn’t want the Watchers to realize they were in contact— and other times he'd drag him off to a creative world to challenge him to a game of build swap or various flying courses he’d created. The two often swapped tips and tricks for things they were good at. Grian would give Purpled lessons on building, block palettes, and flying (he argued the other only ever really using his wings while voiding didn’t count). In exchange, Purple would try to give him advice on various things he’d picked up from playing bedwars: block clutches, speedbridging, and general PvP.

When Purpled was invited onto the DreamSMP, he was fairly excited. He loved what he had going on with Hypixel and his friends there, but part of him had always wanted this. Ever since he was with the Watchers, overlooking everything on Evo and worlds before that, part of him had wished to be on the other side of things. This desire only grew stronger as he heard the tales of what Grian got up to on Hermitcraft.

The Dream SMP was nothing like he expected it to be. It turned out to be a hardcore world, only 3 “lives” allowed per player. There were also seemingly infinite respawns, though, which made no sense. He wasn’t sure which was more annoying: the unclear respawn rules or the fact that he was never told about them before he agreed to join.

Besides that, there was also some entity with a great amount of power, even more than the admin himself. Purpled had noticed their presence fairly quickly upon joining and he was immediately on edge. He had no information on the being, their power, their motives, nothing. And that felt dangerous. Purpled had unintentionally ended up falling back into old habits from working with the Watchers as he tried to establish himself in this world. He claimed land for his own, carving out his own domain within that of the unknown god while trying to avoid catching their attention. Eventually, once he was comfortable enough within the world, he began trying to reach out, trying to get involved in the things that were happening. He heard there was a war brewing, and if he learned anything from Grian, things were about to get really fun.

They didn’t.

His attempts to involve himself mostly failed, so he went back to doing what he had before. He claimed more and more land and continued watching over events from the sidelines. Things got serious, conflicts got personal, and unless he was directly pulled in by someone he considered a friend, Purpled just watched.

Anyway my excuse for whatever is going on with their designs is that Watchers can control how they are perceived. This is my city and I want them to have cool wings. Also Peggy was supposed to be my impulse control but the memo got lost in the mail and she never got it, so she enabled me instead. Now we have both funky dragon/parrot vibes on Grian and vague alien/phantom/vex vibes on Purpled

#ask #mcyt #grian #purpled bedwars #dreamsmp #hermitcraft #marsh tries #says marsh #writing is pain #gonna go play mc now to cope #au hours #ill come up with an actual name for this au at some point #but that is not now

[mysticpetals]

Sorry for bothering you, but I had another idea! :D If you don't mind me sending two requests, how about a headcanon (or imagine if you want, you can choose what you like best) where Jake will meet MC's parents and he is super nervous because he is afraid of what they will think of him and if they knew that he is a hacker. But when Jake and MC arrive at her parents' house, they are quite different than Jake thought.

I'm sooooo sorry that this is super late but life got in the way and I just couldn't bring myself to write. And when I did have the time, I was almost ashamed of how long it had been and delayed it even further.

So this is me, finally writing what I should have done months ago. Thank you so much for your patience!!! ❤️

Jake and f!MC headcannons

(meeting the parents)

There aren't a lot of things that phase Jake

In fact, he's seen so much over the years he was on the run, done some illegal things too

But nothing and he meant nothing, could terrify him more than when his girlfriend told him that her parents had invited them over to have dinner together the next week

"next week? Like....like seven days later?"

"yes." she nodded and his brain short circuited.

"oh my god, oh my god."

MC amused herself by looking at Jake panicking about it for a few minutes and then grabbed his shoulders and made him look at her

"relax, babe. You don't have to. I can tell them that you're busy or something."

Jake calmed down for a moment but then he noticed the sad smile on MC's face

And he doesn't like seeing her sad

At all.

So despite his nervousness, he steeled himself to do this

"why don't we go? I think it'll be fun."

MC's face was priceless.

Shocked beyond belief, she cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward, eyes wide

"are you sure, honey? You don't have to force yourself."

She looked so hopeful and excited to hear his answer

And they had been dating for a while. So it was only natural that they meet each other's families

And since MC had already pretty much met his (only the people he considered as one!), it wouldn't be fair if he didn't make an effort too

"yes. We should go," he smiled and MC squealed excitedly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips

"oh my gosh, I'm so excited!! I'll go call them right now!!"

:))))

Did he make the right decision?

Wellllll, standing in front of MC's house, he was sweating profusely

He had worn his best outfit, a white button up shirt and black jeans

And they had already been late because MC liked his look a little too much

Anyway!!!

He was anxious about making the best impression and he really hoped that they wouldn't be put off by his shyness

Or his profession

About which they didn't know

It's fine it's fine it's fine—

MC's hand slips into his, she gives him a soft smile and the world around them fades away

"I'll be with you the whole time. Tell me if it becomes too much."

Jake swears he's never been more in love

Okay, he can do this!! Absolutely!!

He nods resolutely and MC leads them to her parent's doorstep

Jake's heart is pounding but he's ready

The door opens and he's immediately engulfed in a bone crushing hug

He thinks he can't breath and he looks at MC with wide eyes, asking what to do and she just rolls her eyes in fond exasperation

"really feeling the love here, dad. Not like your daughter is here."

And the weight immediately lifts off of him and turns towards his girlfriend who is laughing as her father hugs her to himself

She squeezes him tight in return and Jake feels himself smile

"it's been too long. I wish you'd come by more. And Jake! Welcome home, son!"

Jake is flabbergasted by the warm welcome. Especially coming from MC's father.

Aren't fathers supposed to threaten the boyfriend?

The flashcards he used to prepare for today did not cover this

"Um, thank you," he stammers out somehow and the man laughs

"My daughter here did say you were shy but no matter! Come on in, I won't bite."

He led them inside and Jake just knew that MC was enjoying all this a little too much judging by the amused tilt of her lips

He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a stern woman sitting on the couch, watching them walk in

"mom! How have you been?"

MC immediately went in for a hug while the older woman kept staring at him and MC's father leaned close to him and whispered

"She's a tough cookie to crack. Good luck, son."

He was so screwed

Jake gulped and watched the smallest of smiles cross her lips as she regarded her daughter, who was talking excitedly

"and this is Jake! My boyfriend!"

Jake literally felt the temperature inside the room drop, when her mother looked him in the eyes

"h-hello ma'am."

She nodded at him and well, that meant she acknowledged who he was, right?

She immediately turned away from him and started asking her daughter how she had been

Well, apparently not

"sorry, Jake. She's not trying to exclude you. She's just....a little hard around the edges."

He appreciated MC's dad because at least one parent didn't seem to hate him

"I appreciate that, sir."

He looked horrified at being called sir

"please don't call me that. Makes me feel old. Call me dad!"

Jake was once again astounded by the man's openness and not wanting to offend him, nodded hesitantly

He smiled widely and Jake was immediately reminded of MC's face when she laughed

"that's more like it! Come on now, the ladies shouldn't be left alone, they'll talk the night away."

MC smiled as soon as Jake entered in the kitchen where both the women were cooking and bringing out the cutlery

"had a nice chat, you two?" MC asked and her father nodded enthusiastically

"I like him! He's very nice, I approve."

"you've known him for two seconds." MC's mom deadpans and Jake smiles nervously

"can I help you with anything ma'am?"

She appraises him for a few moments and then nods

"then please help MC set the table."

Jake literally sighs in relief when the two of them come out from the kitchen

"your mom is scary."

MC laughs and pinches his cheek

"only because you look terrified of her. She enjoys making you squirm."

"well I almost wet myself because she looked at me like I murdered her dog or something"

MC laughs loudly and her father pokes his head out of the kitchen

"alright you two?"

Jake fights off the blush he knows he's sporting and prays that neither of her parents heard what he had said

Table was set quickly, with MC telling Jake about her childhood memories and her parents brought out the food

Jake thought he might have seen MC's mother smile when he made MC laugh but he wasn't sure

Dinner was a loud affair, with MC and her dad competing about who remembers the most about MC's childhood and Jake and her mother listening quietly

He definitely knew where MC got her charisma from

MC's dad was sweet to include Jake in their conversation, addressing him directly and asking him about his own experiences

He slowly found himself relaxing in their presence and telling them about his own hobbies and pet cat

MC's mother gave an approving nod at his choice of pet and asked him to bring him along the next time

Next time

Jake's brain short circuited at the thought that she wanted Jake to come over again

Does that mean tonight was successful?

"so Jake, you didn't say what you do for a living."

Ahhh

Well, it had to go wrong somewhere, right?

Jake froze and looked to MC to see her in a similar state and immediately deduced that she had not told them about his profession

Well

He knew this was going to come up eventually

"I'm a hacker."

Pin drop silence

You couldn't even hear anyone breath over the quietness

MC's mother put down her spoon slowly and opened her mouth to say something but Jake interrupted her before that

"I know you might think it's not a respectful job but it's what makes me happy. And MC supports me every step of the way and I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to honor her confidence in me. Keeping her safe and happy and healthy is my priority and I'll give my all to make sure that she's never unhappy with me."

Everyone at the table looked at him, MC with tears in her eyes and her father looking very proud

Her mother's expression was still unreadable until she smiled at him

The first smile directed at him

"I was going to say that's very interesting. I myself work in cyber security so I've had dealings with hackers. I've found that they're usually very polite."

What

The

Fuck

Jake blinked slowly and MC shifted guiltily in her seat

"haha what a coincidence, right?" She smiled nervously and her dad picked up quickly at her hint

"oh definitely! Why don't you two talk about work stuff and MC and I can clear up the table?"

MC and her father practically fly out of the dining room and Jake and her mom are the only ones left

It was MC's mother who initiated the conversation this time and Jake replied to her questions

He found it quite pleasant to be honest

It was not a regular occurrence that he could chat with someone who knew about computers so this was a nice change

And MC's mom was quite knowledgeable

She even offered to hire him the next time her company had a need of someone to check their software

Jake had no problem agreeing to her wish

He found that she was actually a very kind but fair woman who loved her family dearly, judging by the way she spoke of MC and her father

His heart warmed to know that MC had grown up in such a loving household, even if his heart gave a twinge at never having felt something akin to parental affection

"okay, you two. I think that's enough chatting for today," MC's father said and Jake looked at the time

Holy shit

How is it so late??

MC gave him a discreet thumbs up behind her mother's back and he had to stifle a laugh

"as much as we loved having you two, you should probably get going if you want to reach the city before midnight."

The goodbyes were a little sad and Jake found himself getting a bit emotional too

He really felt like he belonged here and not like an outsider

And MC's parents are so nice and inclusive

No he did not cry

Not at all

To Jake's surprise, MC's mom pulls him into a hug

"take care of my daughter."

And then he's getting roped into another hug, this one much tighter by her dad

"you hurt her, I'll kill you."

And when he stepped back, he was smiling as usual and Jake almost thought that he imagined his words

Anyway!!!

They are in the car and MC is already planning their next trip

And before he would have been scared but now, after spending time with her family, he knew he had found people worth considering his family

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood headcannons #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fic #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake fic #everbyte studios #everbyte game #duskwood player

[ppersonna]

planning forever - myg

↳ summary-  you have special news to deliver to your husband, yoongi.  and you find your inspiration to do so in a unique way.

↳ rating- PG

↳ pairing- min yoongi x reader

↳ word count-

↳ genre- fluff, oh my god the fluff

↳ warnings- mentions of sex, some swearing, min yoongi is D A D D Y

↳ a/n- happy birthday to @carly-bean-blog​ ! my sweet angel who has been with me through nearly my entire blog life.  you’re so special to me!  myself, @chimoona​ and @sombreboy​ wanted to do something special for you.  together, we created your future ;).  we hope you enjoy your day, sweet peony!

"You forgot your lunch.”

The voice of your husband, Yoongi, chuckles lightly through the phone in an amused tone. 

“Shit,” you sigh, walking into work with arms packed full. Keys, your jacket, nametag, and an energy drink fumble in your grasp. 

“Good thing you’re married to the nicest man in the world,” he goads. You roll your eyes, but he’s right. Min Yoongi is simply the sweetest, most kind man you’ve ever met. It’s why you married him.

“Hmm,” you tease as you shove your items into your locker, “Did I marry Namjoon?”

Yoongi grunts through the phone and it forces you to laugh.  

“Not funny,” he sighs. You know he’s holding back laughter, maintaining his stoicism.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you smile. “My break is in about four hours.”

“I’ll bring it then. We can eat together.”

Your heart warms at the idea of sharing your simple sandwich and chip combo with the quiet man—the one who so easily captured your heart. You love that he’s willing to spend time during his day to sit at your boring job and eat lunch with you, all to make you happy.

“I’ll see you then.” The smile that's on your face nearly makes up for the fact that you have to suffer through a grueling eight-hour shift. Yoongi makes all the bad things in your life good. He takes those bad days and holds them tight in his arms until the bad melts away and you’re simply left with nothing but bliss.  

“I love you.” He says it so easily, so much easier than when you first met him. Yoongi’s icy demeanor quickly melted after he spent time with you. Your infectious laughter, kind heart, and easy-going attitude had the man falling fast.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

As you press ‘end’ on the phone, one hand drops to your stomach. You rub it idly. Consciously, you know it’s early and that you’re showing no signs of growing a life inside of you, but you can’t help but smile at the tiny fluttering in your belly.

---

Work goes by slower than you’d like. You’re excited at the idea of seeing Yoongi, but four hours suddenly seems too far away.  

It’s as you’re arranging the new shipment of artisan, 100% organic cotton diapers that you’re forced to pause.

On the box of the far-too-expensive diapers, is the cutest baby model you’ve ever seen in your life.

You stare dumbly at the box for what feels like hours, unblinking as you take in the baby’s chubby cheeks and silly grin.

Maybe it’s the new pregnancy hormones coursing through your veins, or maybe this baby is sincerely so cute it’s making you cry—either way, tears slip down your face and a dumb, deliriously happy grin spreads across your face.

You’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby with Yoongi. Maybe your baby won’t look like the tiny one on the display box, but it doesn’t matter. You’re going to have a child with the man of your dreams and you suddenly want the next eight months to go by faster.   

The only problem that remains is, well, you haven’t told your husband.

It’s not like you two meant to get pregnant. You weren’t opposed to the idea but having sex was never with an end-goal of conception in mind. Yoongi wanted kids and assured you of that before you agreed to marry him. You both knew they would come at a time that felt right, when the universe and stars aligned.

And it appeared that they had. You noticed the symptoms a few weeks ago. Missed period, a little nauseated in the mornings, increased hormones. So, during a lunch break at work, you bought a pregnancy test and scurried to the staff bathrooms, only to come out with a positive reading and a grin on your face.

It wasn’t that you were scared to tell your husband. Frankly, you were far from it. You wanted to make sure the moment was just right. The pressure of telling your husband he was about to become a father was overwhelming. You couldn’t just tell him casually, as if discussing the weather. No, you wanted something more. And you agonized for weeks about how to make it happen.

But now, standing in front of the diaper section with tears pouring from your eyes, you throw any need of extravagant celebrations aside. Seize the day—it’ll happen at lunch and there’s no use backing out now. 

The next fews hours creep by painfully. You take note of every ticking minute as it passes, practically hopping on your heels with excitement, waiting until you can pop the news. You finish stocking the nursery aisles with a happy heart and a smile on your face. You’re so engrossed in stocking shelves and running through the dialogue in your mind that you slowly lose track of time.

Hours pass and—

“_____,” Yoongi’s low voice bounces off the tall aisles behind you.

You turn on your heel and come face-to-face with the most familiar, welcoming pair of deep brown eyes. 

“Baby,” you laugh, amused at how domestic he looks with both hands full of sack lunches like a father at a soccer game half-time. 

He pulls off the look well. It reminds you why you fell in love with him in the first place. So kind and doting on those he loves most. Gosh, he’s going to make a great father. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” he says with an eye-crinkling grin. “You love this department.”

“Love? I’m assigned to this department.” You close the distance with a small peck and tug your lunch from his hand. “But I guess you can say I have a fondness for it.”

He takes a step back and reclines in a nursing glider, motioning for you to join him in a neighboring seat. 

“It’s the graveyard shift—do you think anyone will mind if we eat here?”

You look around the completely vacant store like a covert agent, then answer in a hushed tone. “For the time being, it looks like we’re off their radar. The coast is clear.”

“You’re an idiot,” he laughs, “I love you.”

“Love you too, rule breaker.”

It felt good to be bad in the most wholesome way in the most wholesome department of the entire store. Well, aside from the home decor section. Those fragrant eucalyptus candles and plush throw pillows in the shape of wild animals melts your heart to no end. 

The two of you empty your bags into your laps and make small talk about your days. While you were toiling over the display case for Jessica Alba’s latest line of gluten-free, non GMO shampoo for thin baby hair, Yoongi watered the plants and did the dishes. 

Real riveting stuff. 

No, really, there is nothing sexier than a man who takes care of the home. It only makes you want to pop the news sooner, but the sandwich clutched in your hands makes for a less glamorous prop in your otherwise fairytale picture-perfect moment.

“Oh! I also did the laundry and folded it the way you like.”

“Bunched up and tossed in the drawer?”

He winks and points his finger at you. “That’s my girl—nothing gets past her.”

“Nothing does, nothing does…” You stare off blankly at the display behind Yoongi and notice a package of diapers is slightly askew. You begin to make a mental note to fix it later, but are abruptly snapped from your thoughts at Yoongi’s words—

“Nothing gets past me either, ______.” He sighs and reclines, belly full of sandwich. He closes his eyes and rests his head against clasped hands. “I know you’ve been keeping a secret from me, I can sense it like a bloodhound.” 

With that, you pop the rest of the sandwich into your mouth and chew quickly. It seems the moment to savor has quickly evaporated and it was time to come clean.

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but—”

“—You got me that Pioneer DJ System for my birthday. I knew it! When I saw a purchase on our credit card for $500, I knew I caught you red-handed,” He looks at you for confirmation and assumes he’s right based on the reddish hue of your cheeks. 

“You’re the idiot,” you snicker, nervously biting your lip between your teeth. “That wasn’t a DJ System, that was a crib.”

He holds up his finger in an AH-HA moment of victory, but pauses mid-celebration and looks at you with a crooked smile. “C-crib?”

“I’m pregnant, Yoongi.” 

You can’t keep the butterflies from fluttering, seeing his face slowly shift from slightly amused to tear-dabbed and nearly shaking. 

“You’re...you mean...we’re…” He stands from his seat and takes a knee beside you on your rocker and places his hand gently on your stomach. 

“Yes,” you confirm through a strained voice, edging back tears of your own. “We’re having a baby.”

“This is, I mean,” He stammers and verbally struggles to come up with the right words to say that properly shows the multitude of emotions coursing through his body.

“Are you happy?” You ask despite the answer being written plainly on his face. 

Of course he’s happy. It’s the happiest moment of his life and it’s all happening under the watchful gaze of a Peppa Pig cardboard cutout. 

“Beyond,” he confirms, stroking your belly gently as if you were made of glass. “And excited, and scared.” 

“Me too.”

“But mostly happy.” He strokes his hand through your hair and curls the loose strands behind your ear to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “God, I can’t wait to spend forever with you two.”

“Already? You haven’t even met the kid. What if he/she is a brat?”

“Too late, I love them already.”

You lean forward and kiss your husband, capturing his plush lips with your own. It’s warm and soft and reminds you of home. 

“I love you,” you whisper, lips still touching his. 

“I love you too,” he smiles, “Forever.”

#bts fluff #min yoongi #yoongi fluff #suga #suga fluff #bts fic #bts imagine #min yoongi fluff #bts sfw #agust d #agust d fluff #bts imagines #min yoongi imagines

[ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr]

Wanda vision thoughts of episode 6 spoliers ofc

It’s startttttinggg I’m so excited I’ve heard good things.

I love the new into im trying to think of what show it’s related too it’s defiantly familiar.

The way it’s filmed like a show with the talks to the camera is making be very happy.

I LOVE WANDAS SCARLETT WITCH COSTUME. Visions too

“I don’t remember it like that,”

“Probably because you suppressed a lot of the trauma,” Now they’re saying it like it is.

“Mom and Dad have been not fighting just different?” Vision is still on edge as he should be honestly

AWW TOMMY IS A MINI QUICKSLIVER THATS SO CUTE.

Ugh now the sword agents are here with the plane and nasty Hayward.

Hayward is trying to pin the whole thing on Wanda again.

“We can’t outgun her and clearly antagonizing isn’t only making things worse,”

He brought up Monica’s mother then quicked the trio off the mission ig.

They took out the sword agents escorting them.

It’s back to the trick or treating and Peter/Pietro said “Raise hell demon spawn,” I may be reading too deep into this but that made me kind of suspicious.

“Do you remember we were in the orphanage after mom and dad died what was the name of that kid who was always trying to steal your boots. He had the... He had the skin thing?” Wanda to Peter/Pietro

“You’re testing me,” Peter/Pietro

“No I’m not,” Wanda

“Hey it’s cool. I know I look different,”

“Why do you... look different?”

Wanda knows this Pietro is different and doesn’t have the same knowledge as the other one which is why she was testing them she just doesn’t know where this version of him came from she’s still clueless to (the multiverse) that world.

This has to be like Uncle Jesse a bit he keeps calling himself Uncle P

“Say it again now all the candy has dissapeared?” Herb then cuts to all the kids looking down cause their candy is gone.

“And now all the jack-o-lanterns have been smashed?” Product of Quicksilver and the twins they’re using powers very openly this episode.

She just found out Vision wasn’t on duty

“Is there something I can do for you Wanda? Do you want something changed?” Herb

She seems caught off by the question I’m assuming that’s her subconscious trying to make up for the fact that vision lied to her and she wants to fix it.

Now she’s confused again.

He sees this woman who is glitching and crying she is trying to put a ghost decoration up over and over again. The she pain she is in is seeping through and I guess the control over her isn’t allowing her to do anything else but struggle to put up the decorations.

“I’m so hungry I’d eat anything,” Commercial snacked on Yo-Magic the kid is too weak to open it and they died. Yo-magic the snack for survivors. Still trying to figure out this commercial

“I got shot like a chump on the street for no reason and the next thing I know I heard you calling me. I knew you needed me,” Pietro/Peter very suspicious it’s a different multiverse Pietro but he definitely has bad intentions. He also brought up “isn’t that what you wanted?” Hinting to Wanda calling the shots.

Tommy had super speed now great now he’s running everywhere after Wanda told him to take it slow because she can’t control him.

“Do go past Ellis Lane,” I’m assuming that’s where that’s where hex cuts off.

The people near the edge are barely moving because they’re out of Wanda magic reach I think.

Also where’d Wanda get all those kids from there were none before.

Monica and the Jimmy and Darcy trio found out Hayward is tracking vision so now they can find out how sus be really is.

Vision is flying up to see everything and he here’s Halloween phrases and he sees a parked car

Should be Agnes from the trailer.

“ Town square scare. Where is it?” Agnes

“Oh, well the Town square I expect,” Vision

Agnes let out a creepy laugh.

“Took a wrong turn got lost,” there are tears in her eyes.

“In the town you grew up in?”

Vision pulls her out of the control.

“You... you’re one of the avengers youre vision are you here to help us?”

“I am Visuon. I do want to help. What’s an Avenger?” I guess Wanda does have some control over him if she was able to make him forget about everything before hand or maybe because he doesn’t have the mind stone he doesn’t have the memories but Shuri said without the mind stone there were so much vision still there. I’m gonna assume it’s Wanda

“What why don’t you remember?” Agnes “Am I dead?”

“No why would you think that?”

“Cause you are?”

“I am what?”

“Dead,” She confines to shout that she is dead.

She has brought up how no one leaves Wanda won’t even let them think about it. Her witch laugh is definitely a sign on Agatha she’s even wearing a witch costume and Peter Wanda and Vision all have their comic costumes on. 

AHHH THATS WHY THEY CANT GO PAST ELLIS LANE BECAUSE THATS WHERE EVERYONE STOPS MOVING. They can’t move and it’s almost like they’re dead. There stuck in a cloud of Wanda grief.

I think Monica‘s powers are coming in because Darcy is talking about how her Energy in her cells on A molecular level is being rewritten and it’s unsafe too go back in the hex. In the comics Monica can turn herself into any form of energy I believe she can turn herself into pure energy.

“It’s changing you,” Darcy to Monica

Monica wants to stop Wanda’s grief.

Darcy is trying to breakthrough the into what Hayward is hiding which is the fact they’re trying to weaponize Vision.

“Where were you hiding all these kids up until now?” Pietro/Peter.

"What?” Wanda

“ I assumd they were all sleeping peacefully in their beds no need to traumatize beyond the occasional Holiday episode cameo, am I right?”

“No I dont-”

“You were always the empathic twin. hey don’t get me wrong you’ve handled the ethical considerations of this scenario as best as you could, families and couples stay together, most personalities aren’t far off from what’s underneath, people got better jobs, better haircuts for sure”

“You don’t think it’s wrong?” Wanda

“What, are you kidding? I am impressed seriously it’s a pretty big leap from giving people nightmares and shooting red wiggly-woos out of your hands” Like in age of ultron reaching into the Avengers biggest fears. On the other hand the phrase wiggly-woos is very cute.

He’s telling her how he can’t talk to her. And she said she doesn’t know how she did it she only remembers feeling completely alone and empty. So she was grieving and depressed. She just saw the gunshot wound and the white eyes on Pietro like she did to Vision with his head crushed earlier on. She’s losing touch to this made up world and is now getting glimpses of reality.

Darcy is almost at my into Hayward’s stuff.

Idk if these names are important but they’re in Hayward’s email so I’m gonna write them down.

James D. Gadd,

James J. Alexander 

James X-ND Seckler.

James woo wasn’t listed in his contact either. He’s either been blocked or was never there.

Vision is at the edge of the hex HES breaking through now. He’s halfway out. Now he’s all the way out. The hex is pulling him back in and now he’s falling apart because he’s exciting.

THE BILLY CAN HEAR VISION SCREAMING

Hayward doesn’t want to help Vision so he’s handcuffing Darcy too a car.

Y’all really made Vision die again.

“It’s not like your dead husband can die twice,” Peter/Pietro she flung him backwards at that.

He can also see the soldiers and could hear Hayward. The hex is expanding outward to reach Vision and it swallowed Darcy and many other soldiers turning them into Circus performers and clowns. All the cars and shops it swallows turn into things to fit the aesthetic of her town.

I’m not sure if the hex is still moving outwards she opened her eyes so I think that was a signal that it stopped when her eyes went back from red to normal. Guess I gotta wait till next week.



#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wanda maximoff #jimmy woo #monica rambeau #darcy WandaVision #Tommy and Billy #Vision #pietro maximoff #quicksilver

[jebazzled]

Why Aren’t People Writing With Me?

Why aren't people writing with me?

Real talk: do you often find yourself waiting weeks or even months between partners replying to your posts? Do people seem to prioritize all their other threads over yours? Do people seem to be just not that jazzed about writing with you? It's the worst feeling, when you're spinning your wheels and on the outskirts, wondering why you're struggling to gain traction. Sometimes, sites just be like that - people writing with their friends, or closed groups hard for a newer member to break into, or folks writing on slow timelines, or not keeping track of how long they've kept a partner waiting. It comes with the territory. But sometimes, it might be your writing that's holding your threads back. I know what you're thinking:

But it's something everyone can genuinely stand to consider, when they're having trouble getting a thread to keep moving: how much of this is my thread partner holding me up, and how much of it is me? Is there anything I can do to keep things moving? No matter how long you've been writing or how advanced a writer you are, it can be easy to forget that writing is ultimately a game of improv, and writing well is only part of the job. Part of the job is setting your partner up for a good time, too.

This tutorial is about writing starters & replies that make your thread partner excited to write back.

We'll be covering:

Starters that stall vs. starters that enthrall (sorry! the rhyme was necessary.)

Common tactics for writing replies - and common pitfalls of them

Alternate approaches to writing replies

Hopefully, these tips and tricks will improve your rp experience - because aren't we all here for a good time?

Onward!

STARTERS

Ah, starters. The bane of every roleplayer's existence. Starters are difficult because they often require some scene-setting, leaving the writer to try to set up a premise and a vibe without powerplaying for their partner. And then, you've got to start the interaction. There's a lot to contend with, so a lot of people avoid starters at all costs.

Personally, I like starting a thread: this way, I'm not waiting on a post; I have control over when it goes up. Thread partners often appreciate you writing a starter for them, so it's an easy way to engender good will. And finally, for me, it lets me make sure the thread is off to a good, actionable start.

Starters come with pressure - the starter sets the tone for the thread. A dud starter will stump your partner on replying, and they may even grow to dread posting. Which isn't fun for either of you!

Some things to consider when crafting a starter that will get your partner excited:

PREMISE Whether you're writing an open thread or a plotted thread for a specific partner, every starter needs a premise. The premise might be simple: perhaps your character is going to pickpocket your partner's. Maybe it's two friends catching up. It could be two strangers bumping into each other in an alley. It might also be more complex: maybe you're setting up an enemies-friends-lovers-enemies-rivals-lovers-friends-enemies plot. Maybe your character is defending the teaching of evolution to schoolchildren before a jury of his peers. Maybe it's a duel.

Generally, the more specific the premise, the better. This doesn't mean you need every beat of the thread plotted out, but it is good to think about: What do we want each character to get out of the thread? 

Think of this as your overall goal for the thread. Is one character seeking reassurance or advice? Is there a business transaction being made? Have you and your partner agreed to hurt one character in a duel? If you can't think of an overall goal or point for the thread, the chances of stalling are high. This is common with "catch up" threads, especially ones in which neither character has particularly exciting updates to share. If only one character is "getting something" out of the thread, be careful in your own posts to set up plenty for your partner to respond to. Not every thread will have equal actionable payoff for both characters, which isn't inherently a bad thing. But if your posts don't give your partner much to engage with, the thread can read as selfish or one-sided - which isn't anyone's intention!

How do we want the events of this thread to impact this character, moving forward? 

Related to the above, if both characters can walk away from this thread without any change - perhaps reconsider the premise or necessity of your thread. There is no shame in not doing a thread when it wouldn't mean anything to character development or plot progression for either character! "Just because" threads are always the first that drop on thread priorities - why not save yourself the trouble, and plot something you will both be excited about?

What is the most reasonable entrypoint for this thread? 

Reality is filled with filler - moments in which nothing interesting happens, but which carry us from point A to point B. Conversation that goes nowhere and just happens for the sake of filling silence. But this isn't reality, this is fiction, which means we can cut the boring stuff and jump straight into the meat. If your premise is Character A pickpocketing Character B, don't open with Character A just wandering around the market, waiting for Character B to wander around the market, so Character A can pickpocket them: close your starter with Character A's hand around Character B's wallet. This gives your thread partner something to respond to (the theft) and in two fewer posts than it would have taken otherwise.

ACTION Dialogue is an engine for plot progression and for character development, and there is nothing quite as satisfying as strong dialogue. But questions, greetings, and other standard ways to launch an in-character conversation aren't your only options.

All a starter needs is action, and saying "hello," "what are you doing," or "hey! That's my pod racer!" are all actions. But actions can be silent, too, so long as they trigger a reaction from your writing partner. Character A pulling their hand out of the butt pocket on Character B's jeans, wallet in hand, begs Character B to react. Character C puking into the same trash can where Character D is searching for the utility bill they need for proof of address gives Character D something to dodge. Character E speedwalking through the grocery store and destroying the greeting card aisle gives Character F something to be horrified at. Even if A, C, and E all do it without saying a word. One thing you'll notice about each of the above premises is that they involve doing something - pickpocketing, puking/dumpster diving, grocery shopping. If you suspect your starters are leaving people underwhelmed, consider building your premise around action. The action doesn't need to be dramatic like the above examples. For instance, let's say that Character G is catching up with Character H after her divorce. They can do this over coffee in Character G's living room - but if they're walking their dogs while Character G's kids are with her ex-husband, you and your partner can use the dogs as emotional stand-ins:

Hannah dug her heels into the ground as Penelope started after a squirrel. Beside her, Gloria and Fifi both seemed not to see it. Hannah had never seen Gloria so out of it, so disconnected from the world around her. It frightened her. "How's Fifi holding up?" she asked, quietly, once Penelope calmed down and they kept walking. "I know Mike wasn't great to her, but - she probably misses the routine?"

Giving the characters some sort of verb to do beyond talking gives you more lenses through which to view an interaction, plus more opportunity for body language for your partner to respond to.

STARTERS: TL;DR Now that we've talked about how to start a thread on the right foot, let's quickly review our main food for thought items. Mind Snacks, if you will:

What do we want to get out of this thread?

Start on track for that result - do not lead with a detour!

Build around action - even small ones

Is the concept of this thread important or interesting? Would we be better served skipping it and writing something else?

REPLIES

Now your thread is off the ground. Excellent! It's a few posts in but your partner doesn't seem very excited - maybe they don't message you about how much they liked your reply, or how fun the thread is so far, or maybe they don't react to the tag in the server; maybe it's radio silence from them until they reply a month and a half later, when they're caught up on the threads they seem to keep shuffling ahead of yours. How do we move your thread up in the shuffle? Make it fun to reply to, and easy to reply to.

COMMON APPROACHES  An easy way to tackle a reply is by having your character react to each action and dialogue from your partner's character:

Maycey slid into the navigator's seat of the L2-47 spaceship, almost kicking over a cup of Dark Matter Decaf.

"Sorry," she said, not looking at Brooks. "Are we still checking out Planet 42601, or did General Berry have us change course?" Brooks watched Maycey enter the cockpit, snorting as she almost knocked over his coffee. Though it wouldn't be funny to see what the brew would do to the controls of the L2-47. "No problem," he said. "General Berry wants us to do a pass over 42601, but we aren't doing a full landing."

This reply covers everything Maycey did in her post, but doesn't advance the thread. What comes next? Brooks hasn't given Maycey much information to process, nothing to act on, no juicy body language to consider. Maycey's writer is fully on their own to advance the thread. To move it forward in a meaningful way, they might come up with a plot development they need to run by Brooks's writer to make sure it's not stepping on anything Brooks had planned. They may need to make up some lore. They may need to expand the premise of the thread. Brooks may or may not have helpful input, but when push comes to shove, Maycey is the one who is going to put it in their reply.

Maycey whipped her gaze to her captain, shocked. "But sir - we've come all this way to rescue 42601. Berry - sorry, General Berry wants us to abandon them? Their distress signal took three days to reach us; the atomospheric poisoning has got to be lethal by now." Her hands didn't touch the controls - she couldn't bear to take them off course to the desperate planet. "Sir, we have to do what's right." Brooks took a sip of his coffee, thinking about his own family back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K. They'd put out a distress signal years ago, back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

All of that work from Maycey, and Brooks only gave us one sentence to propel the plot. Yes, he had a lengthy internal monologue debating it - but that interiority means nothing to Maycey, who isn't a mind-reader. In this scenario, the focus on Brooks's tragic backstory, without giving Maycey anything actionable, sets up a very one-sided dynamic. If this happens consistently over one or many threads, the tragic backstory no longer feels tragic in a meaningful way, but just feels like a trite device to be trotted out - to tell rather than show a reader that a character has depth.

How could this post give Maycey more to work off of? Below is the same reply from Brooks, with additions made in green, rearranged wording in blue.

Brooks could feel Maycey's stare - bewildered and accusatory. He can hardly blame her, but she should know by now that this is how the Galaxy stays out of the Great Bezosian Black Hole. Sheer obedience. He avoided her eye contact, took a sip of coffee. Sheer obedience. Just like years ago - back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, his own family's distress signal back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder - his hands are shaking; it misses the rim twice, sloshes onto the knee of his parasuit. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

This version acknowledges the primary beat of Maycey's post (something we will talk about later) - that is, her accusation - and adds body language betraying his doubts. While interiority is great, externalization makes it possible for other characters to engage with your character's thoughts and motives. Brooks's new post gives Maycey more to engage with, which will better set her up to give Brooks more to engage with, and so on. When you both do the lifting, you both have a better time.

Another common method - especially in conversational threads, especially in "catching up" premises - is to lean on dialogue and, more specifically, questions. But most conversations we have in life aren't nonstop questions!

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" Sasha grinned at her friend. She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day.

This series of posts involves a number of questions both stated in dialogue:

Is Sasha married?

Does Sasha like Edgar?

Does Annabelle like Edgar?

Will Annabelle be Sasha's maid of honor?

And unstated:

Why is Annabelle nervous?

Why does Annabelle care whether or not Sasha likes Edgar?

The stated questions are yes/no questions, somewhat procedural. The unstated question and its implication - that Annabelle cares about whether or not Sasha likes Edgar because she might like Sasha - is a juicier question than the minutiae of wedding planning. But Sasha's writer isn't letting Sasha notice or react to any of Annabelle's body language (her nervousness, her fiddling with the tablecloth) and focuses instead on the simple questions, which are a cover for what isn't being said. Information does not need to be voiced for it to be acted upon. Let's look at the same line of posts, with additions in green for Sasha and in pink for Annabelle.

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha had wondered when Annabelle would ask. She seems on-edge, fiddling with the tablecloth, as though they've never had a picnic outside before. She's not sure why Annabelle is out of sorts, but it's making her feel out of sorts. Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" She gently grasped Annabelle's fingers, unclenching them from the hem of the tablecloth. "Edgar thinks you're the bee's knees." Sasha's hand on hers - her stomach did a flip, palms instantly feeling clammy, like she could swoon in the summer sun. Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. It's worse that Edgar likes her. Makes her feel vile for resenting him like she does. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" It's a silly question - of course she loves him; how could she have said yes otherwise? But Annabelle seems not to believe her. Annabelle seems to worry. Annabelle is worried so much of the time - and so much for her - she tries to be reassuring, gripping her friend by the shoulders, offering a grin. "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day. Annabelle is her best friend - the only person she could stand at the altar with besides Edgar.

See how much more complex the dynamic is between these two when they have things to react to other than dialogue?

REPLIES PART 1: TL;DR So now we've addressed two common approaches to replies and seen how they can fall short, and discussed tips for elevating them. Your main takeaways:

Acting is reacting - react to your partner's dialogue AND body language, and give them some to work from, too!

Dialogue is not a game of Questions Only

If you're not driving the thread forward, you're slacking - don't leave it to your partner every time!

SYNTHESIZING: YOUR NEW APPROACH TO WRITING REPLIES

Now that we've discussed the pitfalls of action-by-action responses and dialogue-only threading, let's synthesize all of the above into one methodology for writing replies. The common pitfall of action-by-action responses is that one writer ends up only ever progressing the thread one sentence at a time - thinking of a post in terms of beats helps separate what actually needs substantive response, versus what is background information to inform your response. When I write a reply, I copy and paste my partner's post into the wordcounter window where I write my posts. I read their post and identify the beats - that is, what actually happens. For example: 

Getting elected student body president was no joke. Hattie had worked for eleven long years to earn the position - bossed around her peers all the way from preschool. Back then, she'd been interested in power and prestige. But by the time she'd won the election junior year, she was exhausted. Now, on her first day of senior year, she was just excited about the choice parking spot. And yet, someone had the audacity - the nerve - to cut her off on the turn into the Keppler Family Parking Pavilion and slide right into her coveted parking spot. Crooked, so they took up the access lane to the adjoining handicapped spot. Too far forward, enough that she could see the metal RESERVED FOR STUDENT BODY PRESIDENT sign shaking on top of its pole. She threw herself out of her car, aiming the sole of her left Doc Marten into the license plate of the offender's Buick. "Hey, genius, there's no fucking run-off election this year!"

Because this is a starter, much of this is scene setting, which my partner could choose to echo, but the main things for them to react to are what my character - Hattie - offers in the moment:

dramatically throwing herself out of the car

kicking their license plate

swearing at them

Once I've distilled a post to the beats I need to respond to, I work my way through them, creating beats for my partner to respond to. With this method, a reply to the above might look like this:

Aunt Mildred's car was affectionately called The Boat for the first ten years of its life. Huge and unsinkable. That had changed when Aunt Mildred died in a boating accident over the summer, leaving Mikey the Boat's captain. Now, he just called it the Buick. And he wasn't very good at driving it - already he'd been honked at twice, overshot the turn into the parking lot, tires riding up on the curb. He pulled into the first available space. Figured he was outside the lines - but it seemed like the Buick was too wide to fit between lines anyway. And Aunt Mildred had never been one to follow rules. The terrible park job was in her memory. The sound of metal crunching at the back of the car, however, was not. If it's an accident, the Boat - the Buick - always wins, so Mikey gathered his violin case and drawstring backpack from the passenger seat, opened the driver's side door, and slowly got out of the car, turning his beanie backwards as if it mattered while he shuffled in his Adidas slides to the trunk, where a very short, very angry girl driving a Smart Car was trying to put the Boat - the Buick - in its place. "The car's not moving," he said, pulling a roll of Bubble Tape out of his backpack and taking a huge bite out of it. "But thanks for telling me my voting rights."

Mikey responds to Hattie's abuse of his car, but also gives Hattie a lot to respond to - minor dialogue, but a LOT of personal eccentricities that are bound to piss her off.

The dialogue and the action contribute to the trajectory of the thread - and giving Hattie something to play with keeps the musing about Aunt Mildred from feeling self-indulgent.

It's a small shift, going from thinking of posts as paragraphs to respond to to thinking of them as specific, small, actionable moments - but it makes a difference, especially in encouraging writers to be more thoughtful about creating opportunities for their partner to react.

REPLIES PART 2: TL;DR

beats, babey! not every sentence requires a response, but be sure to write some that do, whether it be dialogue or action.

ACTING IS REACTING!!!!!! if you don't give your partner something to react to, you are letting them down!

And that's all there is to it! Hopefully these examples are helpful as you think about ways to drive your plots and threads, and how to keep your own writing great for collaboration. The most important thing is to think of your writing partner. What do they need to be able to write back? What will make this thread exciting for them? How can you make sure this thread isn't serving you alone? Cheers, and happy writing!

#christ this was annoying to format #rp guides #resources #writing resources #rp writing #posts #starters #replies

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi! Hope you're doing well~! I was happy to see that you like Shingen and The Mitsus- I kinda called it, haha! However I'm wondering if you guys are also familiar with/had an opinion on Edgar Bright from IkeRev because I feel like he fits your character type too? I literally downloaded the game for him because I never pass on #PrettyBoyAngst~

Hiya friend!! Tysm I’m good, I hope you’re doing well, too! :D Haha, they are indeed my favorites! You guessed right! Long live Shingen (too soon? too soon...) and the Mitsus!! 

Quick warning, I know the game has been out for a while but spoilers for Edgar rt below!!!!

I have indeed played IkeRev, and you are spot on!! My top three bias list from that game is Lance, Edgar, and Fenrir! (surprising no one lmao) I can’t make a cup of hot cocoa anymore without hearing in my head “AND YOU JUST HAVE TO TELL THEM EVERYTHING’S FINE BUT IT’S NOT FINE AND NO ONE WILL EVER UNDERSTA--” Edgar’s route just sincerely hits different. Like holy actual shit yo, boy smuggles us candy all I want to do is give him some sugar, c’mon IkeRev ;-; (CLAUDIUS IF I SEE YOUR MUSTY ASS IT’S ON SIGHT, ON SIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON’T FUCKING TEST ME YOU MONOPOLY GUY BITCH ASS--)

Honestly, Edgar is what we all wish ATLA Azula could have had. Yeah he was raised in a rotten environment and did what he had to do to survive, but the guy sincerely didn’t enjoy what he was coerced into doing ;-; and there was never anybody there to protect him. I cry whenever I start thinking about how he saw Zero in sincere need of guidance and affection, and went over to him without a second thought. (Granted, one could argue that Edgar benefited from Zero’s clear inability to fit in, but I really don’t see it that way. Edgar had no obligation to help him out, and very little incentive beyond a desire for mutual friendship. Despite their differences in status and/or capacity, Edgar treats Zero with no shortage of respect and consideration--he just teases him a lot LMFAO) Even when they bicker (IT’S ALMOST LIKE COMTE AND JEANNE AHAAHAHAHH I’M WHEEZING) it’s abundantly clear that neither of them have an ounce of real ill will directed at each other. 

I guess that’s also a sizable point of what I love about him. Against all odds, against everything he was taught and raised to do, he still chooses love. He doesn’t like hurting people, he doesn’t find any pleasure in the power plays/impositions that his uncle lives for. He just likes making people smile and laugh, he just wants to live normally like anybody else--his smarts and his skills be damned. At his core, he was a kid that was raised to be a monster, but even Claudius couldn’t beat the humanity out of him. There is...an utterly heartbreaking, but also profoundly moving aspect to that kind of tension. 

(Now that I write it, it reminds me a lot of Comte and Leonardo. They were both expected to take their place in the hierarchy of vampire/human society, but they both reject it so vehemently. They don’t see human beings as pawns, they don’t see them as playthings or even sources of nourishment. They acknowledge what they are, but they want to treat people with as much dignity and compassion as they can regardless. In the ageless words of Iroh, “Perfection and power are overrated. I think you were very wise to choose happiness and love.” While they may have been able to understand all of this on an instinctive level, they actively chose it over every motivation/coercion they were offered to be cruel and unfeeling. They bear their scars for choosing what’s important to them, just as Edgar does. It is a unique but debilitating pain that comes with being unanimously rejected by your community because you choose to deny the expectations of your upbringing and social status, especially when the standards that were imposed on you were glaringly immoral to begin with.)

And the thing that kills me the most is that Edgar just. Has always done this, has always chosen what’s right as much as he was able no matter how painfully thankless--if not actively harmful to his well-being--these choices were. So when MC takes notice, when she makes a conscious effort to return that mindfulness, he’s floored. It literally changes the landscape of his mind, he goes into a god damn crisis to be able to process what just happened. Imagine being so desensitized to positive attention that you have a trauma response in trying to deal with direct, unfettered goodwill. And don’t even get me started on that desperate moment where he just loses every ounce of calm when MC briefly loses faith in him/wavers. I don’t even remember the exact words exchanged I just remember the sheer devastation in the wake of that scene, the way I cried. There are no words for how much I love him and how little that man has been allowed to live. (AND LANCE SUPPORTING MY BOY!!!!!!!!! SCREAMING AND CRYING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

Also. Idk if you've seen the “my desires are unconventional” Edgar memes but the ducky and roller coaster ones just SEND me, it was literally the reason I decided to do his route and I regret NOTHING 😂😂😂 

And the Creeks!!!! The Creek family!!!! I sob!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So pure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Though now that you mention it there are a lot of elements in Edgar’s rt that align with Leonardo/Comte rt, feeling exposed 😂😂😂. I guess between them and Shingen/the Mitsus, one thing that I find really, really attractive is this notion of being kind to people with a deeply compassionate motivation. It’s not enough to say nice things, it’s the fact that they do care about the people they’re paying attention to, and seek to de-escalate conflict (whether internalized or externalized) as much as they can before it reaches an explosive point. They’re good to people with very little--if anything--to be gained in return, and they know what’s worth being grateful for in life. There is a breadth of altruism that is simply unmatched by some of the other suitors, a maturity that just draws me in like the proverbial moth to the flame; I fall head over heels in milliseconds. 

I do this a lot in real life but they are what I like to call “ninja nice”. They are schemin’ bois but the scheme is wanting to make you smile!!!! And it’s so god damn wholesome ;-; it never fails to make me laugh

I’m also deeply interested in this idea of “love at play.” It’s apparently a pretty common literary device/premise, but I wasn’t made fully aware of it until recently. The implication is that relationships are not only built on mutual feelings of affection, but also on a kind of language that people develop together; they find ways by which they comfortably tease, or poke fun, or just enjoy the same things and joke around while doing it. It may seem pretty intuitive to some, but for me this was a very new concept--I’ve never really seen it done before. And yet, I can see for myself that I tend to seek it out a lot without even knowing, and I think it’s a beautiful and crucial thing for people to share. It really makes me so happy to see :D <33333

So yeah, this is a house where we love and cherish Edgar Bright!!! I got a little side-tracked, but I hope I’ve answered your questions! Oh yeah, and as a note my wife also does love Edgar as well, we tend to share biases LMAO (Never on purpose, we always just watch/play the same stuff and come back like “THIS ONE!!!!!!!! YOU TOO!?!!?!? FLKHJAHGKHDLKJ”)

#asks #ikemen revolution #ikerev #edgar bright #ikerev edgar #ikerev spoilers #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp leonardo #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen shingen #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen mitsuhide #i find it really sweet that yall are interested in my taste in ikemens and im happy to tell yall anything you'd like to know! #but yes friend!!! you are correct!!! i cant offer a cookie irl but know that my virtual cookies are offered for ur excellent deduction uwu #and lord PrettyBoyAngst is abt 99% of my experience playing otomes i swear LMAO #god now I'm just having cxm Shiraishi flashbacks and i hate everything AND THE WORDS OF THE PROPHETS ARE WRITTEN ON THE SUBW-- #anywho im just an absolute sucker for the whole hurt/comfort dynamic #yes i want to love an angsty boy but if you dont let me comfort him IM GETTING MY GLOCK #HAVENT THEY SUFFERED ENOUGH. #im a simple woman i see an emotionally exhausted man that keeps trying to smile and i want to hold him until he starts to cry #in pure cathartic relief #this is my goal in life #(can also be emotionally repressed i accept all kinds in this house) #rambles

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

Realm of the Quarantine Reread End-of-Book Questionnaire: Royal Assassin

Any differences between your first/previous reading experience and this one?

Not as stark a difference as with Assassin’s Apprentice, but definitely still there. Apart from all the obvious stuff, like feeling much more attached to the characters already and picking up more details, I think the biggest change was a complete lack of patience for the teen romance drama lol. There was a decent period where I was feeling quite frustrated with it. Not that I loved it the first time round, but back then I had a very different view of how it fit into the story. I saw it as teaching Fitz a depressing lesson of what it really means to be a royal bastard and a king’s man. Fitz’s literal need (for all he knows he would have been killed if not for his deal with Shrewd) and sense of duty to put his loyalty to his king and country first creates a relationship that is toxic, turbulent and built on lies. And teenage horniness masquerading as love. I saw all that the first time and thought it was just something he had to go through. Now I know it’s something he never really goes through but rather grips onto, romanticises and ultimately goes back to. I know the point of that is meant to be that he finally gets to have something for himself, but why it had to be Molly specifically??? I have very few qualms with Robin’s writing choices overall, but why she chose to write their relationship this way if they really are meant to be is beyond me, especially when so many of her other romances are written so well - it feels like it can’t possibly be unintentional. For most of this book they’re either fighting or fucking and honey! That ain’t love! Hell, Fitz all but sees her as just another demand on his time as the book goes on. But he can’t let her go because she’s the one thing he can point to that makes him feel normal. Not happy, not cherished, not safe. Normal. She’s simply a refuge from his real life. He literally says to Chade “I need her.” I find that so telling, man. It’s not really about her, which is a shame because Molly is great. They’re just really not good for each other.

So yeah. It’s just kind of trying to read all the Fitz/Molly stuff when you know and don’t like what it ultimately culminates in. At the same time… Bee… So I will always be conflicted lol. I just can’t separate the events of Royal Assassin from the furious disappointment I felt when I finished Fool’s Fate. Perhaps I’ll have a new Fool’s Fate experience this time that will make the next re-read a bit easier in regards to Fitz and Molly? But I won’t bet on it lol.

Anyway. It’s not as if I haven’t already said just about everything there possibly is to say about Fitz and Molly yet I also feel like I could go on about it forever. Luckily this is kind of as bad as it gets in terms of how much “screen time” they actually get (apart from Fool’s Assassin maybe? But they don’t bother me too much in that) so yay! I made it! And hopefully it’ll be a good few books before y’all have to endure my ranting about it again :)) Also hopefully this doesn’t give the impression that this read was more bad than good? It was mostly just a particular angsty chunk before they properly get together that was a bit of a slog to get through, but overall I really loved reading this book again and got a lot out of it.

Something you can’t believe you forgot

That Molly punches Fitz in the face hard enough that he bleeds and that Fitz fully intended to punch the Fool for asking if Molly was preggo before seeing he had already been beaten. I pretend I do not see it.

Favourite character introduction moments/scenes

Omfg I was just about to say “huh we didn’t really get any major character intros in this book” bitch Nighteyes???? But in my defence I just. Cannot process the fact that Nighteyes is only really in 3 of 16 books he just feels omnipresent to me BUT his introduction is most definitely iconique and god I love him and he made me cry eight thousand times!

Favourite character arcs

Speaking of Nighteyes: what a glow up. He goes from angry, scared, untrusting little bb to……. Nighteyes. Like. How does one even describe the kind of person Nighteyes becomes. He’s just Nighteyes and I love him with all my fuckin heart!! He is Fitz’s constant… He is wise… He is silly… a comedic genius…… a big, open, unconditional heart. Incomparable. I can’t believe I’ve seen ppl saying they dislike/d Nighteyes……. Honey…… it’s called taste xx

Favourite quote/s

Again no tabs so it’s a bit harder to keep track but there were a few that stuck out enough to copy down. There are a lot of iconic quotes in this book that get shared a lot so I only bothered with ones I didn’t remember.

- “I wince to think of the price willingly paid for loving me.”

- “My soft, clean bed beckoned, like a soft, clean tomorrow.” (mood)

- “I looked and saw they were both made of hungers, like containers made of emptiness.”

Favourite relationships

Kettricken/Verity obviously. I was shocked by how little time they actually have together being in love before Verity leaves??? Because all I remembered was how strong their love is. But the whole journey towards that love is what makes it stand out as an actual compelling story in its own right. This is definitely one of Robin’s greatest skills as a writer; giving the minor characters depth by giving them their own relationships that grow and change and have a life of their own outside of Fitz. It makes the world feel so much more alive.

Also Burrich/Fitz in this book continues to be bittersweet, but with a lot more sweet in there than usual! They fully start out this book as a team. Burrich calling Fitz “FitzChivalry” makes me fuckin emo and idk why even. Burrich does seem to start seeing Fitz a lot more as his own person in this book which changes their dynamic in some rly nice ways. The fact that towards the end of the book Burrich even uses the wit to help Fitz is enough to make me cry tbh - and writing this has made me realise that I’m officially past any uncomplicated good times between Burrich and Fitz y’all mind if I fuckin die real quick!!

Fitz/Verity is soy pure and beautiful. Fitz and the Fool is always, always compelling and complex and tender and perfectly mysterious. But overall you’d have to say Fitz/Nighteyes, hey? They are literally meant to be, in a way so straightforward and undeniable and beautifully simple that I never really know what to say about it. Little brother!!! :’) They literally make me cry all the frickin time lol rip!

Favourite setting

There aren’t that many to choose from in this book! Ima go with the skill river bc hey, Robin’s magic systems are so unique and beautiful and the fact that the skill is written as a kind of a place is really frickin cool and deserves a shoutout.

Favourite chapter

The final chapter (not the epilogue) ummm broke my heart but it is written so beautifully, oh my god, it’s like an out of body experience. I feel like this is kind of when RotE becomes RotE - the first time it really goes to that place that is so fitting yet so unexpected, so beautiful, so tragic, so awful, so visceral. Making use of the genre to really test the limits of humanity; to see how far you can bend a person without breaking them and then refusing to turn away from the consequences. Idk man!! I don’t know how to describe it without sounding like a pretentious dick but it really is that intense and strange and overwhelming for me. There is something in that moment, when Burrich pulls Fitz’s body out of the earth and Fitz/Nighteyes is recoiling from it and deeply terrified… Something about the enormity of the existential questions raised converging with the pinpoint specificity of it all being wrapped up in the story of a character that feels so real and who you care about so deeply… It’s almost written like a horror scene, but that’s not quite the feeling. It’s just the RotE feeling; there are multiple throughout all five series, and it’s what makes these books unlike any other.

Most loved character

Fitz, Nighteyes, the Fool all had my entire heart this book. The Fool is just so sad and pathetic and literally must be protected!! I think I’m kind of obsessed with Burrich? Also I think I almost forgot how much I love Kettricken? She’s a complete badass of course but she’s also got the biggest goddamn heart like…. Who said she was allowed to be such a beautiful person???

But god, everyone. I love them all.

Most hated character

What can I say? Regal is disgostang. Wall Ass a close second.

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimised by Robin Hobb (most heartbreaking and/or visceral moments)

Shall I list just a few? :)

- Burrich screaming at Fitz through the bars of his jail cell, horrible things you can’t help but feel are at least a little bit true

- Burrich sobbing over Fitz’s dead body repeating, “You aren’t dead, you aren’t dead.”

- Fitz going to Nighteyes before everything went down on the night of the coronation and just fuckin hugging him really tight

- Fitz trying desperately to leave his broken vessel behind but not quite being able to disown his body

- The Fool being beaten

- The Fool being beaten again

- The Fool sprawled and weeping across Shrewd’s dead body

- The Fool really believing for a moment that Fitz had betrayed him and killed Shrewd

- Fitz tending the Fool’s wounds………. bitch….

- Chade giving Fitz a chance to escape with them and Fitz going to kill Serene and Justin instead

- Idk why this is even that sad but Nighteyes saying the only person he loves is Fitz!

- The entire incident with the forged ones literally tearing apart a three year old girl, which I had completely blocked out until now :)

- The fact that Fitz continues to be reminded and traumatised by this incident for the remainder of the book beCAUSE HE IS A GOOD BOY. A VERY GOOD BOY WITH A VERY GOOD HEART.

- Fitz repelling at Nighteyes to try and force their bond broken

- LITTLE BROTHER

- WOLVES HAVE NO KINGS

- High off his face Fitz calling Patience “mother” no shut the fuck up!!!!

Details, observations, spoilery notes made with the benefit of the full picture

- I’ve been trying for ages to decipher when the Fool started falling for Fitz, and I think I’m officially putting my money on their last interaction in AA. “I wish I had a place that was as much me as that place is you.” I mean. If someone said that to me… I’m not a slut but who knows, ya know? (I know this is more a note for the last book but I thought of it while reading this book. So shh.)

- It’s so clear to see this time how much Fitz’s sense of self and politics are affected by his time in the Mountains. He obviously feels much more inclined to their way of thinking about royalty and sacrifice and equality and returns to Buckkeep with a self-respect he’s never really had before. Weird how being among people who don’t just think of you as The Bastard will do that.

- It’s no wonder Fitz becomes so fixated on Molly; he literally has almost nothing else to occupy him and no companionship when she suddenly shows up

- It’s gross that he spies on her, obviously, but you can’t not take into account the fact that Chade has been teaching him since he was ten that this is justifiable behaviour; a reasonable way to gather information and get what you want. Fitz’s lack of social awareness goes further than him just being a little awkward; he has literally been trained to believe the only thing wrong with stalking would be getting caught.

- I’ve seen a few people talk about the fact that Regal isn’t appropriately punished as if it’s bad writing and like, while it is frustrating, it is supposed to be frustrating - it is not a plot hole. It made sense to me the first time I read it and it was even more obvious this time; Regal has the loyalty of the inland duchies. If he were to be publicly punished those dukes would rally behind him and raise hell, and Regal would no longer need to play the part of the dutiful prince. Even if Regal died a “natural” death - something I can’t see Shrewd or Verity orchestrating anyway - the inland dukes would feel that they no longer have a Farseer on their side and may, again, raise hell. It’s a delicate balance that would be outrageously difficult not to topple if you removed Regal from the equation. There is a lot more to it than I’ll bother writing here but yeah. I don’t really know how people can read this book and think that Regal retaining his life and position is some sort of lazy plot contrivance. It was all set up in the first book dude.

- Fitz and Nighteyes meeting in this book is the perfect metaphor for our need for connection versus the fear of inevitable loss. Fitz’s experience tells him that entering into a bond with an animal can only end in pain, yet he can’t resist it. In real life this is especially true with humans and our animal companions, since they almost always have a shorter lifespan than us; signing up to love them is signing up to lose them. But the same is also true of our relationships with other humans. And like Fitz, we have all had our fair share of loss and pain. We all have our reasons to be afraid of the connection we naturally crave. Sometimes we give in to the fear to the point of holding ourselves back from it entirely. That’s where Fitz is at when he meets Nighteyes. But what’s so beautiful about their arc as a metaphor is that it suggests that these connections, if we submit to them, are what keep our vital spark alive. Even when Nighteyes dies later in the series, the sentiment always remains, essentially, “It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” Ya boi is projecting bc it’s hard to be vulnerable and make friends as an adult, but I think the observation stands. Love and connection and vulnerability are key threads that run throughout all of Fitz’s story, but in this book it is best represented through him and Nighteyes.

- “I hoped I would not become too adept at lying to myself.” Honey, you got a big storm comin.

- Very inch resting (gay) that Fitz finds it hard to meet the Fool’s eyes. I know almost everyone does bc his eyes are weird, but I reserve the right to reach and I will absolutely NOT be accepting criticism.

- I find it interesting that Fitz says Kettricken’s wit is not strong just because she doesn’t use it exactly the way he does

- I know it’s not meant to be funny but……. The way Fitz described losing his virginity had me literally laughing out loud

- Fitz was really like “okay i better go break my bond with Nighteyes” just cos he and Molly fucked. Teenagers don’t deserve rights.

- You know what? I really, really appreciate how fucking weird these books are lol. What other author would use their magic system to have their characters accidentally intruding on each other’s awkward sex stuff? Okay, maybe a few, but they would do it to be like, edgy and sexy. Robin Hobb just does it to make you cringe so hard you lose several years off of your life.

- But seriously, even apart from the cringe stuff, these books get so strange and out there and like! That’s what magic is for! 

- Bruh. When Fitz is like “omg poor Verity…. He’ll never have what i have with Molly” I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone encapsulate the self-important delusion of teen romance so perfectly lol. Wow.

- Okay some Fitz/Fool stuff that made me lose my tiny mind. Sorry.

- Fitz literally said about the Fool “he burned too brightly” I WILL DIE.

- Fitz is always like, irritated by the Fool… yet positively delighted by his presence at the same time…… okay bitch

- Inch resting how Fitz has always been uncomfortable with the Fool getting serious. I don’t quite know how to put my thoughts on this into words so like. I’ll just put it there. Make of it what you will.

- “Sit on my clothes chest and take your shirt off…” i stopped fucking breathing noah fence

- “I ran my fingers lightly down the line of his jaw, and around his eye socket. At least no bone seemed damaged. ‘Who did this to you?’ I asked him.” my GOD this is literally textbook gay/romance. It hurts me. It physically hurts me.

- Straight from my notes: “I can’t even focus on reading this bc it’s the first time they are tending each other’s wounds and I am a homosexual!” and “the gays are quaking!! (it’s me I’m the gays)

- Okay wow! I think that’s it! Hello if you made it this far! Hope this was remotely coherent and I’m always keen to hear your thoughts on my thoughts :)

Anyone doing a reread feel free to fill this out! You don’t have to use the tag :)

#rote #realm of the elderlings #royal assassin #royal assassin spoilers #fitzchivalry farseer #realm of the quarantine

[cagestark]

Hi! Im not sure if you are taking prompts, but if not pls just ignore this (I LOVE YOUR STUFF ANYWAY UR GREAT ❤️❤️❤️) What about a PrisonInmate!Tony, PrisonInmate!Steve and PrisonInmate!Bucky all trying to get their hands on freshly employed Officer!Peter who was just trying to do his job. Smut? Shenanigans? Lots of good/bad/cheesy flirting? Anything would make me so happy!!!

Hope this works for what you wanted. I had a lot of fun, feel free to hop in my inbox and let me know if you’re satisfied. I tried working Steve in but :( still not very good at writing him. Bucky is a stretch for me, too. Did what I could though! Especially considering I scrapped what I had, wrote this in 10 hours, and didn’t even glance it over skskskks sorry for errors.

Warnings: some violence, smut, drugs. 7.5k. Peter is 22!

Read here on AO3!

-

The first time Tony meets Officer Parker, Tony is shackled at the waist and ankles to eleven other inmates from Lincoln Correctional Facility. He reaches up with bound wrists to scrub at his facial hair hoping that he isn’t as scruffy as he feels, eyeing the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed little twink who would be driving them twenty minutes to a nearby park There they would be giving restitution to society by picking up plastic soda bottles, cigarette butts, and used condoms from under the dugout benches at the baseball diamond. Thinking of the millions of dollars he stole from his father’s company (plenty of which was still offshore and safe), Tony figures that a week of this and his debt will be repaid. He and society can call it even.

“He’s green,” Bucky mutters from beside him. He tracks the younger man’s pale eyes to Officer Twink. “No question about it.”

“Hey Fury,” Tony says when the black officer goes by, doing a head count. He motions with his bound hands to Parker. “I didn’t know it was bring-your-white-child-to-work-day. Are his legs long enough to reach the pedals in the van? Does he have his permit? Where did you leave his Hot Wheels battery-powered jeep? Will we all fit in the back, because—”

“Pushing your luck,” mutters Steve from Tony’s other side, goody-fucking-two-shoes that he is.

Fury stops walking, actually doubles back to stand in front of him. “You want me to drag you out of line, Stark? You can spend the rest of your day inside washing dishes. Or in solitary, if you feel like being an asshole like usual. Don’t fucking test me,” Fury says. He’s a real hard-ass. Tony likes him well enough.

Beyond them, Officer Parker is blushing to beat the band having heard Tony’s criticism of him. “I’m twenty-two,” he mutters, and Tony nearly groans. Beside him, Bucky does groan. This kid is so, so fucking green. What kind of dummy correctional officer just spills personal information in front of convicted felons?

The harder inmates are going to eat him alive.

If Tony doesn’t eat him first.

“Twenty-two huh? When’s your birthday, sweetheart?” Tony calls. “I’ll drop a postcard in the mail for you—"

He hears the slide of chrome on leather as Fury draws his baton. Tony has just enough time to be thankful it’s not his taser before it is jabbing him in the chest. With his feet and wrists shackled, he has no real way to keep himself upright. He ends up sprawled ass first in the dirt. Steve and Bucky have to adjust to avoid falling themselves and likely taking the whole line down with them.

“Did you just threaten Officer Parker, Stark?” Fury asks, bending over him.

Tony squints up against the sun. “If my heartfelt affection is threatening, then—”

“One more word and you’re spending the week on D Block.” D Block is solitary confinement, and if there is anything more painful to Tony, he doesn’t know what it is. Being alone with his thoughts, no one there to fill the silence, walls so thick he can’t even hear the shouts from other inmates around him—it’s enough to drive him to the edge. He folds.

“Parker,” Fury barks. “Give me your keys. Stark isn’t coming on the field trip.”

“How else am I going to repay society?” Tony asks, holding up his wrists so Fury can unchain him out of the line. Fury doesn’t dignify him with an answer, and it’s probably for the best. Words tend to pour out of Tony’s mouth without thought even at the best of times. And he really isn’t looking for spending the first week of Officer Parker’s employment up on D Block getting his trays through the slot in the door.

While Fury undoes the locks with practiced ease, Parker stands back practically wringing his hands. He looks distraught, downright upset to be honest. When he catches Tony looking, the kid turns red and looks away. God. Fucking adorable.

Tony glances up at Bucky who is looking straight ahead with the smuggest fucking smirk. He winks at Parker and the kid literally has to turn away, probably before he has a stroke, because Bucky is a good-looking guy. And he’s going to spend the entire week, eight hours a day picking up trash while being supervised by Officer Twink.

“You lucky bastard,” Tony says to him.

-

“Bucky’s probably got him bent on all fours in one of the dugout’s right now,” Tony mutters unhappily around an unlit cigarette. They aren’t supposed to smoke inside—it’s against the rules, actually, not just frowned upon—but in times of anxiety, he likes the familiarity of it between his lips. He picks up his dealt cards from the table and glances at them: a straight. Not bad.

“Should have kept your mouth shut,” Toomes says from across the table. His joy at Tony’s dismay is poorly disguised behind his own hand. “That’d be you, right now. Picking up trash in Manhattan. The highlight of your day getting your dick sucked in a dugout littered with caramel corn and old wads of chewing gum. God, how the mighty fall.”

“Could be you right now, too,” Tony offers genially. “But those domestic violence charges mean you don’t even get the chance to go on field trips, huh?”

“Not to mention,” Rhodes says from beside him, a dark-skinned man with a generally unhappy face, and serious disposition. He was one of the only people on the block that Tony genuinely trusted—that sort of trust was hard earned. They’d even exchanged addresses so they could communicate after one or the other gets processed out. “No guard would risk their job for a suck job with you, Toomes.”

“Brutal,” Tony says, holding out his hand to shake Rhodes’s. “True, but absolutely brutal.”

“Thanks,” Rhodey says dryly. “Is someone going to call, or what?”

Toomes ends up storming off, leaving his hand flat on the table. When Tony flips it over, he only had one pair. Unfortunate bastard.

“He’s going to give you problems, Tony,” Rhodey says. His dark eyes are still tracking Toomes who is sulking across the floor back to his cell, where he stands in the doorway, scanning the room. “He’s not showing you respect, and he’s not meshing well with the block. It’s going to come to a head soon.”

“Is this foreshadowing?” Tony asks lazily.

Rhodey just stares.

-

Tony is dozing in his cell when a large form takes up the doorway. He slits his eyes open to see Bucky there, fresh from a shower with his jumpsuit half-undone and tied around his waist. The white wifebeater he wears shows off his arms, including the gnarly scars on his left shoulder from his last tour overseas. It clings to skin that is still a little wet, and Tony licks his lips.

“Hey snowflake,” he says, voice raspy. “Come to rub it in?”

Bucky sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the concrete wall. “His name is Peter. He graduated from the academy last May. This is his first job—if you don’t count the food joint he worked at as a kid. And his birthday is August tenth.”

Tony scoffs. “What, you didn’t get his social security number too? I’m disappointed. And I don’t believe you.”

Bucky holds up a scarred hand, solemn. “Swear on my tags.”

“How the hell could you have found out so much about the kid in a handful of hours? With Fury marching around no less.”

The smile that slides over Bucky’s face is so fucking handsome. Downright sensual. “Fury didn’t come. He was just there for headcount. It was Coulson escorting us with the kid. He spent the whole time sitting in the van with the AC and radio on, chainsmoking. You’re going to shit yourself, Tony. This kid is so fucking sincere and sweet—” Bucky throws his voice into what must be a poor impression of Peter’s trembling voice. “—thanks Mister Barnes, you’ve been so friendly. I’m glad my first day was spent with you.”

“Aww fuck. Goddamnit. Son of a bitch.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t worry, you’re going to get your chance. He told me today was just to break him in. Tomorrow? He’s on the block. And don’t worry, I put in a good word for you. My friend Tony, I said, he’s one of the most solid guys I know. Arrogant as fuck, but a sweetheart underneath the ten different layers of ego and narcicism.”

Tony’s eyes shut. His hands come together in a prayer position over his chest. “Oh thank you, sweet Jesus.”

“Thank me,” Bucky says, wiggling his eyebrows.

In the back of the cell is a curtain that can be drawn shut while an inmate uses the facilities. It’s where most sex happens during the daytime, when anyone is liable to walk by and glance into a cell. Tony jerks a thumb at it. “You want to see what lies behind curtain number one, Buck?”

“Sure. I’m feeling lucky.”

-

Showers open at dawn, and Tony is one of the first inmates there. He takes extra time soaping himself up in the lukewarm water. By the time trays are brought in, he is dressed with his hair combed. The tank top he wears is white as is required for all clothes that aren’t jumpsuits, and it looks good against his tanned skin. Tony looks fucking good for his age—which is somewhere past thirty and before fifty, thanks, don’t worry about it.

He’s halfway through a tray of biscuits and gravy with more-than-decent hash-browns when Officer Parker comes in, the door of the block screeching open. He’s escorted again by Coulson. They tend to keep senior officers with green ones, because it’s so easy for the new guys to fall prey to inmates, whether by manipulation, intimidation, or sheer manpower. Tony has seen it happen. Tony has caused it, himself. He didn’t end up as the top guy in the block by shaking hands and kissing ass.

Coulson points out things around the block: the cells (obvious), the showers, the cameras. Tony isn’t close enough to hear what’s being said, but he can imagine. Guards come in every hour during the day and every two hours at night to stroll around the block peaking into cells. Even when they aren’t a physical presence on the floor, they are always watching behind the cameras. That will be Peter’s job today: walking the floor. Every sixty minutes, he’ll walk right by Tony in his cute little dress blues. They look too clingy to be at all efficient, especially on Peter’s lithe little form, narrow hips barely able to support the holster on his waist.

Peter turns around and Tony gets a nice glimpse of his ass—God, he wants to bite it.

Bucky looks less enthusiastic today, hair pulled back into a wet bun, dark circles under his eyes. They’d slept in the same bunk last night, but when he’d awoken in the morning, Bucky had been gone. Nightmares, probably. “Now who’s the lucky bastard?” he mumbles around his fork.

Tony. Tony is the lucky bastard.

When Coulson and Peter go by, Tony calls out, face wearing a winning smile. “Good morning, officers.”

“Good morning,” Peter says sweetly. When he notices that it is Tony who spoke, his eyes double in size. Obviously, Tony has already made an impression. He plants his chin on his palm, elbow resting on the table, and lets his eyes rove over the green boy. Unashamed is his middle name.

“Inmate number one to watch out for, Parker,” Coulson says. But Tony thinks there’s a little affection underneath the vacant expression. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“I’m hurt, Phil,” Tony says. “Really hurt.”

“Stark is here for fraud, and he’s a master manipulator.”

“That’s better—stroke my ego, Phil. I love it. Go on.”

Coulson looks unimpressed. “Give him a wide berth.”

Peter nods obediently. His eyes trail over to Bucky and he lights up, squinting with a smile liable to outshine the sun. “Good morning Bucky! How are you?”

Coulson looks liable to have a fucking stroke. Lips twitching, Bucky salutes. “Doing great, sweet thing, how about yourself?”

“Can’t complain,” Peter says, blushing prettily.

Coulson ends up having to drag him off. Tony can’t imagine the dressing down he’s going to be receiving once they’re in private. Actually, he can, and it’s an image he cherishes. It wouldn’t hurt for the sweet kid to have some sense knocked into him by the other guards—before one of the inmates knocks it into him for them. The thought makes Tony’s fist clench around his fork. If anybody is knocking anything into Peter, it will be him. And Bucky. Preferably at the same time.

“You can hold him down,” Tony says lowly to Bucky across the table. “I’d like to see your thick arms wrapped around him. He looks like a squirmer, so sensitive. You can keep him still with nowhere to go, sitting on your cock, and I’ll suck him off. I bet he cries.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, eyes half-lidded. He makes a stabbing motion with his plastic fork. “Or I’ll end up in the bathroom at the park beating off.”

“I like the thought of that.”

“Yeah, well I don’t.”

-

The next time Peter comes around, he is alone. Tony, Toomes, and some of the other guys are sitting around the table playing poker.

“Afternoon gentlemen,” Peter says cordially. Tony is immediately smitten—the kid is trying so hard to be a Big Boy. It’s so fucking endearing. All Tony wants to do is drag the kid by the belt to the nearest cell and suck him off.

“Afternoon, handsome,” Tony says.

“I hope there’s no gambling going on,” Peter says, his arms cross across his chest. Jesus, his arms are skinny but fucking built, muscles straining beneath the cuffs of his shirt. There’s strength there. He’s reminded suddenly that this kid did pass the academy, so he does have some training under his belt.

“Gambling is against the rules, officer,” Tony says brightly. He takes the cigarette from behind his ear, hands desperate for something to do, and tucks it between his lips. “Do we look like rule breakers to you?”

Peter shakes the hand of each man around the table. Tony would have to be blind not to see the looks he’s garnering: incredulity, attraction, calculation. Toomes looks like he’s about to cream his jumpsuit when his rough hand wraps around Peter’s soft, tiny one. The look he shoots Tony is smug.

“Do I get a handshake, Officer?” Tony asks sweetly as the kid is trying to make his escape.

He looks at Tony’s hand like it is a trap. Tony softens.

“I’m sorry if I came on too strong before,” he says gently. “I just want to say, Welcome to LCF.”

Peter takes his hand. It is just as soft and smooth as it looks, but the grip is strong and firm, and Tony feels irrational pride—look at this little boy standing up to him, so fucking fearless. He makes sure to keep the handshake simple and wholesome, even though it hurts to let go. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, he agrees.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” the kid breaths and fuck. That goes right to his cock.

“You’re quite welcome,” he purrs.

-

The guards work 2-2-3’s, predictably. That means that Peter will have two day shifts, two days off, three night shifts, two days off, two day shifts, three days off, so on and so forth. The next two days with no Peter to look forward to and Bucky spending the 9 to 5 picking up trash are some of the dullest he’s ever had. Rhodey is the only consolation. They spend a lot of their time watching television together or playing chess.

And nights are spent with Bucky. They take turns topping, pressing each other into the mattress and muttering a litany of dirty prose in each other’s ears. Peter makes a lot of appearances in their repertoire, and some of the best orgasms Tony’s had in ages come from imagining him walking into his cell someday to find Bucky sucking off Officer Parker, or the other way around.

Sometimes, Tony has to go behind the curtain in his cell and pretend he’s taking a shit, when in reality he is jerking off to the thought. Popping a boner during poker isn’t exactly welcome.

The night shifts aren’t ideal. From 6 pm to 6 am, Peter will come in to walk the floor, shining light into cells to make sure everything is up to code. There isn’t as much time for conversation, but Tony figures he’ll be happy to spend the night awake in his buck just for the glimpses of Peter he’ll get. God, he’s fucking worked up over this kid. Mr. Stark, he called him. Jesus.

When Peter comes in at six, it is to general greeting suffused with catcalls. His face turns red as a tomato, but he smiles, looking pleased by the comradery.

“Hey doll,” Bucky says when he strolls by. Trays came in a few minutes prior, so they are eating. Salisbury steak tonight, disgusting—but the gravy isn’t half bad. Peter waves, coming over.

“Hi Mr. Barnes. Hi Mr. Stark.”

“It’s Tony, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Even Coulson calls us by our first names. You can do it too.”

“T-Tony,” Peter stutters.

“Say it again,” Tony purrs. “You need to get your practice in now.”

Bucky kicks him under the table. “You’re going to give him an aneurysm. Sorry Pete—Tony is a bit of a horn dog. He’s what the kids call thirsty.”

Peter laughs, hiding his smile behind his hand. “Yeah, I could have guessed. Is he like this with everybody?”

Tony goes to open his mouth, but is stopped by the increased pressure on the arch of his foot by Bucky’s boot under the table. When he glances over, Bucky looks earnest, serious. He puts a scarred hand over his heart. “No sir. Swear on my service tags. You’ve got us all smitten.”

Peter melts. He bites his lip, casting Tony a shy but warm glance. “I—you guys are so nice. I better get back to—yeah—”

They both watch Peter’s ass as he walks away.

“You smooth motherfucker. I need to start taking a page out of your book,” Tony mutters. He rubs his ankle softly against Bucky’s. It’s the most affection they’re willing to give each other out on the floor. Affection is weakness here, and as the guy who runs the floor, Tony knows he has a big target on his chest. He’d rather not make it any bigger. For him, or for Bucky.

-

It’s nearing ten PM. Lights go out at 9:30, and while not everyone is asleep, the raucous gatherings are contained to individual cells.

Like Tony’s. He is biting his knuckles, panting as Bucky sucks him off. They’ve spent the last hour cuddling in the bunk, running their hands over each other, muttering dirty things between them. He’s been hard for the better part of that hour, and it’s only now that Bucky has shown mercy on him, tugging him up to sit on the edge of the bunk, knees spread wide. He rucks up Tony’s wifebeater over his abs and chest to rub a thumb at one of his nipples, causing his cock to jump.

“Let’s give a show, baby, huh?” Bucky whispers before swallowing him down. Tony jolts, barely managing to cut off the groan that builds up in his throat.

Bucky gives head with enthusiasm and without shame, probably because he looks so fucking hot without his inhibitions, and he knows it. Eyes closed like Tony’s cock is the tastiest thing he’s ever had in his mouth, Bucky drools and chokes himself, sometimes pressing Tony’s cock up so that he can mouth at the older man’s balls, taking them into his mouth one at a time.

Tony holds off his orgasm for as long as he can. He loves this, loves how aroused Bucky gets from sucking cock, whining around it, one hand reaching between his own legs to jerk himself off.

Then comes the light. It blinds Tony whose eyes are accustomed to the darkness. He gasps, jerking backwards in horror at being caught, but Bucky’s hands grab his hips and wrench him forwards, taking him deeper.

There comes a gasp, high and effeminate.

Peter.

The flashlight fumbles and clicks off, but Tony doesn’t hear the footsteps move away. His eyes readjust to the darkness, and he sees Peter’s form standing in the doorway, one hand up to press against his mouth.

Bucky chokes himself, swallowing around the head of Tony’s cock, and something about being watched—being watched by Peter—has Tony gasping, fisting Bucky’s long hair and fucking into his throat as he cums. He barely manages to keep his eyes open through the pleasure, because now he can just make out the dim form of features on Peter’s face, eyes half-closed, and knuckles clutched between his teeth.

He likes what he sees.

“Jesus, baby,” Tony whispers, stroking Bucky’s hair. The man stands up, pants slung to his ankles, fisting his naked cock furiously. The low cots mean that when he cums with a groan, he stripes Tony’s chest with it, and he loves it, fucking loves marking and being marked by Bucky. “You wanted to give Peter a show, huh?”

The sound Peter makes is tortured. He turns and nearly sprints away, perfunctorily walking down the rest of the cells, glancing in to make sure no one is smoking or hoarding blankets or any other thing.

They sit side by side on the bunk, panting.

“All part of the plan, handsome,” Bucky mutters, pressing a tender kiss to Tony’s forehead.

-

“Petey came to my cell last night,” Toomes says the next day. The guard on duty is in Tony’s palm, so Tony smokes unabashedly and without fear of repercussions, flicking his ash in a neat pile next to him, because littering isn’t cool.

He isn’t sure what his facial expression says, but he hopes its as stony and unbelieving as he feels. “Good for you, Toomes. Did you finally get that suck job you wanted?”

The other man scoffs, waving away Tony’s accusations. “He’s too skittish for that. But he saw me reading. Frankenstein. Did you know he’s a big reader, Tony?”

Tony didn’t know. He tries not to let it show how rankled it makes him, that there is any part of Peter that this vulture has picked off before Tony or Bucky.

“Maybe you can start a book club,” Tony suggests.

Beside him, Rhodey snorts into his cards.

-

“He’s full of shit, Tony. You know that,” Bucky soothes. He’s sitting on Tony’s cot, freshly showered, watching Tony pace, cigarette clutched between his lips. The younger man is getting a tan from his time spent out in the sun picking up trash. For a fair skinned, fair eyed man, he tans surprisingly well. Tony certainly appreciates the aesthetic.

“He’s not. Not about this, at least,” Tony mutters. “Peter waved to him tonight at dinner when you were getting your tray. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look at Toomes with a pleasant expression. I can’t unsee it.”

“You poor thing,” Bucky says, sounding not at all sympathetic. “Look, the kid’s worked here for three days. This is his fourth fucking shift. Seduction takes time. You always do this—if something you want doesn’t fall into your lap right away, you get mopey. Where’s the Tony you always talk about, the one who had patience, who worked hard to reap rewards?”

“Worked real hard to reap my dad’s money, you’ve got that right,” Tony mutters. “You suck at pep talks, snowflake.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Then how about I just console you?”

Tony takes the cigarette from his mouth and points it at him. “Now you’re talking.”

-

It’s nearing two in the morning. Peter has been by a handful of times, face red when he glances into their cell. Bucky and Tony jerked each other off hours ago—shame he missed it—and have spent the rest of the evening sitting on the cot talking. Bucky does push-ups. Tony admires the view.

“I’m out of smokes,” Bucky says. He means pot—Tony doesn’t partake, but on night when Bucky does, sleeps easier and wakes more rested. “I need more papers.”

“I got ‘em baby.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

Tony can get anything into prison. It’s about greasing the guards—and he makes sure to know which ones squeak and which ones don’t. Then he keeps them well, well lubricated. Whenever someone needs something (matches, drugs, porn, other contraband), Tony is the guy who gets it. But he’s not dumb enough to be the guy who keeps it. That’s on the straw men Tony keeps around the block. One houses the rolling papers. Another has the pot. There’s a cellphone in the cell beside Tony. And if there are shakedowns with guards Tony doesn’t have under his thumb, those men agree to take the fall, and Tony agrees to make it up to them.

It’s late and dark, most people actually asleep now. Tony feels his way down to the cells to the guy who’s housing the papers for joints. The guy snores to wake the dead, but Tony doesn’t care, letting himself in and going to the designated location.

It’s on his way back that he hears the noise.

Voices.

He’d ignore them—some guys will stay up all night talking—but one of those voices is too high.

It’s panicked, too.

Breathing heavier, he takes care to muffle his steps. He isn’t wearing shoes, and that makes him vulnerable in a fight, but he’s held his own in worse situations. The element of surprise will be instrumental in coming out on top—if he needs to. Keeping his breaths quiet, he follows the sounds to the showers, empty but still smelling damp and faintly of soap.

It’s definitely Peter’s voice.

There are windows here that let in the moonlight. Tony stands in the shadow of the doorway, watching and listening.

“Come on, Adrian, quit—”

“You come on, Petey. I’ll make it good for you. It’s got to be tough, being around all the men on the block, being flirted with all the time. Gets a kid hot and bothered I bet, huh? You’re a hot little thing. I saw the way you looked at me last night. I’m here for you, honey. You can use me—”

“I don’t want to. I could lose my job.”

“I’ll take it to the grave, Pete, I swear.”

Peter is pressed against the tiled wall between two showerheads. Adrian is pinning him there with his body, and the size difference is drastic. Peter is so fucking tiny and frail looking, eyes huge and frightened, hands clenching and unclenching even though he has a fucking weapon, come on Pete, pull your baton, your taser, your fucking gun—

Adrian’s hand drifts from where it’s caressing Peter’s jaw. It presses against his chest, fingering the buttons down Peter’s dress blues, and then palms the young man’s cock.

Tony sees red. He wishes he had the shiv he keeps hidden on the floor, but there’s no time to search for it in the dark, and he can make do without it anyway. Get Adrian down and then pull Peter’s baton, beat Toomes again and again and again until the man eats his meals through a straw or not at all.

“I said no, Toomes.” Peter grabs the man’s wrist and twists it expertly. With a strength Tony didn’t know could be contained in such a tiny form, he switches their positions to press Toomes’s face into the wall, grinding it against the tiles. The man struggles but Peter is holding strong, lithe little muscles bulging as he kicks the man’s legs apart so he can’t get proper leverage to push him away. Then he grabs his cuffs, and in a heartbeat, the larger man is subdued. “I tried to be nice, didn’t I? No means no, asshole.”

He wrenches Toomes away from the wall and they both turn to see Tony standing there. They all look at each other, mouths open. Then Tony lifts his hands and brings them together softly, a standing ovation.

“I’m not going to lie,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little hard right now.”

Peter scowls. “Not now, Tony. Go press the button to let the other guards know I need help.”

“No can do, sweet thing. But it looks like you’ve got it covered for yourself.”

Peter does, frog marching Toomes across the floor and out of the Block. Tony watches it all with an incredulous expression. And a chub. Even after they’re gone, he stands on the quiet, dark floor, pondering what he’s seen. When Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder, Tony nearly jumps out of his own skin.

“What happened?” he asks. “Was that Peter I heard?”

“Oh Buck. You won’t believe this yarn I’m going to spin you.”

-

Toomes doesn’t return to the block. More than likely, he is shifted to another block with more violent offenders. They tend to group inmates based on the charges against them and their charge history. Tony wonders what exactly he’ll be charged with now. Attempted assault of a police officer? It sounds delicious. Whatever the punishment, it will be too good for him.

Bucky is torn up. Coming home from war has left him sensitive to certain aggressions, and he often feels things too keenly. Takes things too personally. “No means no,” he says, voice thick, faced press into Tony’s neck as he holds him. “Why don’t people listen? No means no.”

“We know that. They know that too. They just don’t care, baby. We’ll see Pete tomorrow and find out how he’s doing.”

Bucky lifts his head. His eyes are cloudy and distant “Tell me again how he roughed up Toomes.”

“With pleasure,” Tony purrs. “He’s so goddamn petite, but his hiding some serious muscles under that uniform. God, it had me worked up, the way he knocked Toomes’s legs apart. The snap of the cuffs. When we get out of here, snowflake, we need to invest in a pair of those.”

Bucky snorts, but he looks pleased.

Part of Tony worried that Peter wouldn’t come in for his shift. He wouldn’t blame the kid; he’d almost been assaulted on the job. The guards had it tough. If it wasn’t sexual harassment, it was physical intimidation—the latter of which Tony himself had been guilty of. But he shouldn’t have underestimated their boy.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Peter says shyly. He’s got his hands on his narrow hips, but Tony knows that those fingers are long enough to wrap all the way around a man’s wrist, wrenching it back.

“How are you?” Bucky asks when Peter comes by.

Peter smiles, soft and gentle. “I’m okay, Bucky. How are you?”

“Better, now that I’ve seen your handsome face.”

Peter blushes, so susceptible to Bucky’s lines. Then he turns his eyes to Tony, and they grow colder. He barely nods recognition before strutting away. Tony can’t even appreciate the way the tight pants hug his ass, because he’s too busy with his mouth agape, jerking a thumb at the boy’s back and asking Bucky, “What did I do?”

-

That night they are waiting up for Peter the first time he makes his rounds. They decide to sit on the floor so as to be as non-threatening as possible (Peter went through a fucking ordeal yesterday, and they aren’t looking to add to his stress), Tony with his back against the edge of the cot and Bucky propped up against the wall, one foot flat on the floor and the other tickling Tony’s thighs. Yes, the bunks are that small.

As soon as Peter’s light shines in, Bucky calls for him gently.

Carefully, he steps into the room, shining the light towards the ceiling to cast a glow over all of them. His face is somber, but he smiles.

“Hey Bucky. What do you need?”

Bucky doesn’t beat around the bush. “We want to know if you’re really okay. Tony told me about Toomes. That guy’s a fucking piece of work. Hope some guys up on B Block crack his skull in—won’t be no skin off society’s nose.”

Peter shakes his head. “That’s not a good way to talk. That’s not justice. I’m doing fine—Toomes wasn’t hard to subdue.”

“You handled him like a pro,” Tony adds.

Peter’s look frosts over. “Like a police officer, yes. No thanks to you.”

Tony groans. “Is that why you’re mad at me? Because I wouldn’t go press the button for you, baby?”

“Don’t call me that. And yes. I thought we were—” Peter doesn’t finish. He blushes, obviously knowing how silly that sentence sounds: a CO being friends with an inmate. But it cuts Tony all the same, and Bucky’s look across the room is murderous.

“You didn’t try to get help? What the fuck, Tony.” His foot lashes out and catches Tony in the shin, and fuck that stings!

“I’m not a snitch,” Tony snaps.

“Look, I’ll leave you both to this—”

“I was going to handle it if Peter couldn’t—I was going to kill that son of a bitch. That’s how things work in here, you know that Bucky. This isn’t the military. There’s no honor or morals. There’s just rules, and the number one rule is no snitching. If there’s a problem, we handle it this way.”

Peter swallows. “Tony—you can’t just say that. I can’t—I’ve got to tell somebody that you said that, I think.”

“This place doesn’t have honor, but we do,” Bucky growls. “Or at least, I thought you did.”

“You know I’d have killed for him,” Tony says through his teeth. “Just like how I’d kill for you—”

“Would you fucking stop it?” Peter hisses. It’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over them to hear him curse. His grip has gone white on his flashlight he’s so tense, lips pressed into a thin, furious line. “Why are you two doing this? Is it—is this just to, to fuck with me? I don’t get it, I—”

All the anger seeps out of him. He looks lost, tortured. Both of the angry men in front of him soften. What is it about this boy that melts them like wax under flame? Bucky shuffles up onto his knees, looking with his long hair like some knight from an old medieval story, begging for forgiveness of his fair lady.

“Pete, we didn’t mean to come on so strong. Please—will you sit for a bit?”

Peter glances back at the floor. It is dark and mostly quiet, some laughter coming from a cell further down the line. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “I need to do my job.”

“We won’t keep you here, if you want to leave. We aren’t like Toomes. But if you’re willing, we’d like to talk. Work this out.”

Looking torn, Peter sits. Tony and Bucky flank him, but the boy doesn’t look threatened in the slightest, just hunches himself over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Okay. Go ahead and talk,” he says.

“Bucky and I are together.”

Peter snorts. “I got that when I saw him sucking you off.”

Tony blinks. “Oh. Well that happens in here every now and again—some men will do anything in here for company, even if they don’t really swing that way on the outside. But Bucky and I—we’re pretty in love.”

“Yeah,” says Bucky. “He’s dumb. But I love him.”

Peter laughs a little. “Okay. Yeah. So you two are together.”

“We’re polyamorous,” Tony admits. “That means we have a lot of love to give and aren’t unopposed to giving it to multiple people at once. Bucky here, he’s got a boyfriend down the line, Steve—you know Steve?”

“I know Mr. Rogers. He seems nice.”

“He’s real nice,” Bucky smirks. “Our point here is that up until now, we’ve had passing flings with other people, but we’ve never shared anyone. We’ve never wanted to share anyone—until you. And now it’s like our stupidity has squared itself, because we both are falling over ourselves to try to attract you.”

He’s glad he’s letting Bucky take the lead. Tony might have a way with words, but Bucky absolutely has tact and softness that Tony can’t muster up in his wildest dreams. Peter is sitting between them looking red-faced but thoughtful. “So, what? You guys both want to date me?”

“We can’t exactly set up a table with a cloth and wine and dine you, princess,” Tony says. He tries to stay soft and honest, because his mother always used to say that honesty is the best policy. Peter looks like the kind of kid who would appreciate that. “As unfortunate as that is. I’ve got five months left on my sentence, and Bucky has almost double that. And as—what is it Bucky? Thirsty?—as thirsty as we both are, we understand that you wouldn’t want to put your job in jeopardy.”

Peter looks relieved by their admission. “I don’t really know how I feel, to be honest. You’re both—wow, you’re both really hot. Duh. But I don’t know you. Maybe I could get to know you? A little at a time? And once you’re out Tony, if I’m not seeing anyone, we could go out? There’s…” Peter swallows. “There’s definitely chemistry here.”

“Yeah, kid, I feel that,” Tony says.

“We don’t want to pressure you,” Bucky emphasizes, shooting Tony a look overhead that says keep it in your pants. They’ve been seeing each other in here long enough to have reached the telepathic portion of their relationship, thanks. “You’re already promising more than we could have hoped for. And we really appreciate you sitting down and talking things out with us. That’s never easy, doll.”

The younger man blushes prettily, shrugging. He stands. “I really should get back to work.”

“Okay, kid. Whatever you need to do,” Tony agrees. He shifts, hard in his sweatpants, the proximity to his lover and his maybe, possibly, someday lover has sweat beading at the nape of his neck and his imagination running wild. Peter’s eyes track his movements and then fall to his lap.

He licks his lips.

Honest to god.

“I—wait for me. Just—” Peter disappears, flashlight bobbing as he continues down the line. They can hear him popping his head in to a cell further down and telling the guys to please be respectful of the other inmates, thanks!

“Buck,” Tony groans. They smash together with no finesse, both of them stressed and horny from their confrontation with Peter. They taste like mint toothpaste they used before lights out, and Tony licks into the younger man’s mouth unabashedly, sucking on his tongue, licking at his teeth. “God, I need you,” he whispers.

“Take me,” Bucky urges. “Come on, baby. Take me.”

They shed clothes like they’re on fire. Tony folds Bucky’s legs up—for a large guy, he’s surprisingly nimble—and lowers his mouth to Bucky’s ass, licking a hot stripe over his hole and to his balls. He hears the hiss above him, the groan muffled by a fist in his mouth. Not for the first time, Tony hates prison. He hates that they have to be quiet, that they can’t let themselves go and love each other properly, just hushed romps like this in the middle of the night.

“What do you think he meant?” Bucky pants, fingers clenching on Tony’s hair. “Wait for me?”

There is a whispered groan from the doorway. They both turn to see Peter there, leaning against the bars, eyes heavy. “I meant wait, but I get it. God, I get it. You’re both so, wow, god.”

“He’s eloquent,” Tony says. They shift on instinct, turning so as to give Peter a better view. He turns off his flashlight and it takes time for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Peter stands with his back to the wall, hands clasped behind his back like he’s in handcuffs.

“I can’t—I can’t do anything,” Peter pants. “But I could watch. If you wanted me to.”

“Do you want to?” Bucky asks.

“God yes,” Peter breaths, voice high. One hand palms at his crotch. His uniform has him blending in to the darkness, but they can guess what he’s doing, and fuck that turns Tony on, like there’s fire in his blood. He goes back to eating Bucky’s ass, pressing a thumb against the rim to hold him open so he can slip his tongue inside.

“Jesus, Tony,” Bucky says. “Fuck me. Just fuck me, come on.”

Tony is in full agreement. It’s too much; they’re all too worked up. The sounds from Bucky, the sounds from Peter, the taste of his lover in his mouth—his cock feels fit to burst as he pulls it from his sweats. He doesn’t dare pump it for fear of blowing his load right away. God this isn’t going to be the best performance to share with their new love, but he hopes that Peter can forgive him if he comes off as a three-pump-chump.

He presses in slow. Bucky is still soft and pliant from their fucking the night before, and there’s no discomfort on his lover’s face even when he bottoms out. Bucky’s legs wrap around him and he urges Tony forward with his heels and voice: “Come on, baby. Fuck me. Give it to me. Put on a show.”

Tony knows just how Bucky likes it. There’s no holding back, just the brutal thrusting of his hips that has Bucky giving off choked noises, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth and the other scrabbling at the sheet on the cot. It only takes a moment for Tony to glance over and see Peter, hand flashing in the darkness as he jerks his own cock through his dress blues, and Tony is mounting the crest, balls contracting, stomach tensing.

Bucky blows first, untouched. Tony barely gets a fist around him when he realizes what’s happening, pumping furiously to help his lover through it. Then he is there himself, grip maybe too tight around Bucky’s cock, hips snapping desperately while he blows his load. It feels like it lasts forever. Was over so, so quick.

Even when they’re done, panting, sandwiched together, they hear Peter: breathy little whines from across the room. He stops jerking himself off when they stop lazily and lovingly grinding their hips together, but it’s obvious by the unconscious swaying of his hips that he didn’t cum.

“Take care of him,” Bucky mutters, pressing a kiss to Tony’s sweaty temple. “Get on your knees for him.”

“Yes,” Tony gasps. His cock slips free of Bucky, still tingling pleasantly. He walks on his knees the few feet it takes to be at Peter’s feet, staring up at his tortured expression.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps. “I can’t do anything. That’d be wrong—”

“Then don’t do anything, Officer,” Tony purrs. He reaches a hand up and rubs at Peter’s cock. The kid keens softly, thrusting his hips out even as he grips uselessly at the wall. He’s desperate for relief, desperate to get away. Tony bats his eyes, though no one can see in the dark. “Let me do the work, sir. Please?”

Peter swallows hard. He nods frantically, and that’s all Tony needs to undo Peter’s belt, wrench down his dress slacks and boxers. He doesn’t even get a good look at the kid’s cock, just swallows him down. It’s a nice mouthful, and he has to work to get the last inch or so, taking the head just into his throat. “I’m—I don’t want to hurt you,” Peter gasps.

Tony swallows.

Peter cums. Tony barely manages to pull back, desperate to taste him on his tongue. One hand comes up to work at Peter’s twitching cock, the other cradling his balls to help prolong his pleasure. The kid sounds like he’s never cum before in his life, hands gripping at the concrete wall, giving tiny aborted thrusts, mouth open and panting.

“Thank you, Officer,” Tony says, voice a little distorted from deep-throating. Peter slumps down the wall, knees shaking, until they’re kneeling across from each other. Tony can’t help it, he laughs a little. “You didn’t need to be worried about hurting me, baby. That wasn’t my first blowjob.”

It’s Peter’s turn to chuckle. “I did have good reason to be worried.” He cuts himself off, like there was more he was going to say, but stopped himself.

“What is it, doll?” Bucky asks. He’s lounging on the bed, watching them with lazy, sated eyes. He’s so fucking handsome, Tony crawls across the floor to kiss him and press the last of Peter’s cum into his mouth. The other man moans appreciatively.

“It’s kind of a crazy story,” Peter admits.

“We know a thing or two about crazy,” Tony says. “Try us.”

Peter’s clenches his hands together tightly. “It’s weird, actually. It has to do with a spider.”

Bucky and Tony share a glance, equal parts confused and amused. Tony settles in, leaning his head to rest on the cot beside Bucky. “Go on then,” he says. “We’re listening.”

-

Tag list: @crown-filth

#winterironspider #starker #winteriron #prison #drugs #violence #cagewrites

[incarnateirony]

I get blends of innocent beans confused with what queer coding is or isn’t, and malignant beans misappropriating points, so we’re gonna do a quick run through.

Queer coding started as a malignant thing. The truest use of the phrase “queer coding” came from stereotypes and villainizations that straight people found sCaRy. This is like, why Scar seemed classically flamboiyant, or a variety of Disney villains were long, lanky, gestured exaggeratedly, wore eyeliner, etc. There’s a million examples but I’m not going to cover them all because I think you get what I mean. At the time, straight culture was painting gays as bad so painting villains as how straights perceived gays was like, super useful, cuz it creeped the straights out oOOoooOOo.

When people talk about queer coding enforcing stereotypes, if you’re talking about the original form of queer coding, this is inherently true. However, coding reached other levels, and has adaptive forms.

For example, watching (as I’ve been mocked for saying 10,000 times, but because it’s needed) The Celluloid Closet will clear up a lot for you. Subversive queer coding is when queer creators use a great deal of things to communicate with a queer audience past censorship. The film documentary (if you can’t read the book -- which I understand, it’s difficult to find) clears a whole fuckton of this up.

There’s some things that, quite frankly, we as gays know as part of our language. It is what it is. While it’s not a stereotype, it’s quite literally a language I highly warn straights against stepping into, because then they flounder around confused on what’s our actual language and what’s a stereotype

A truly innocent bean asked of me yesterday, well why then is menthols fair subversive queer coding? How is that not a stereotype?

Well like, because it’s facts. And that’s really, really hard to wrap ones’ head around from an outsider straighty perspective or even someone who’s queer but trapped heavily in a hetnorm world outside of where this is visible and/or in the wrong demographic otherwise. A black person who hangs out with black people of all orientations is not going to blink at a media dude getting menthols generally, because it’s one of the cultures that statistically engages in it to the point of memes about Kools or whatever. That’s not my culture, I can’t comment on much beyond that, but it’s just something to take note of.

But even if you don’t want to take someone’s word on “no, seriously, white dudes smoking menthols is queer culture and literally like a great sign for a hookup to another queer white dude”, google the various intersections of gender and menthol, race and menthol, and sexuality and menthol.

This isn’t pulled out of thin air. These were populations quite literally heavily targeted by Big Tobacco and, by nature, are the ones that smoke it, whereas Big Tobacco put(s) on airs of masculinity and chick-magnetness to smoke good ol non-menthol shit. It’s literally marketing. Yes, it does literally impact who buys product and yes, it does after generations have a noticeable affect. Track the numbers I told you to google down and you’ll realize less than 3% of menthol smokers identify as straight white men (depending on the way the numbers sort out and the year of polling, often 1.x%, 3% is the liberal number).. Lemme tell you, on the street, that’s an “okay, honey :)” when you do find it. Maybe a little pat on the head. An invisible brochure for Welcome To The Gays.  Like, White Men make up more than 31% of America and they still refuse to tally more than 25% of the US as queer [some censuses as low as 6% and LOL] so like-- that should be like minimum 25% of dudes available and nope, 1-3%)

(that’s not to say all gays or even all white gays smoke menthol, but this is that rule of “not all fingers are thumbs, but all thumbs are fingers” in loose application.)

But understanding these things, these signals, from the outside is utterly flabbergasting to people.

No, someone making an immasculating joke is not subversive queer coding. No, a dude wearing a certain kind of shirt or eating a certain kind of food generally isn’t queer coding (Unless it’s a rainbow flag BITCH IM GAY shirt, or uh, maybe for food quiche or hummus? I mostly joke for the latter two, but that’s the kind of self ball punching queer community sometimes does to itself in awareness that yes, there ARE elements. No, eating hot dogs and burritos isn’t gay. Yes, we make make penis jokes. No, that isn’t itself queer coding.)

When a queer author codes a piece, it’s designed to communicate to the resonant audience. It also may not communicate to /all/ gays. The language of a middle aged cis gay man that lived through the AIDS crisis is a whole other fuckin adventure from the language of 17 year old trans gays squatting behind their Xbox, it’s just fact, it’s just what is. Completely different cultures and lives being lived, completely different experiences resulting. A few things here or there may connect across generations but some shit that’s written by a gen Z gay is gonna whiff by a boomer gay, sorry. Also just facts.

Explaining exactly what is and isn’t queer coding is almost impossible beyond the fact that “if you don’t get it, it’s probably not for you.” -- At the same time, that leaves the problematic room of people taking that grey area and packing in a bunch of shit and we’re back to ground zero on the original problematic queer coding.

I once read a meta of uh-- I’ll just say, [Fantasy Character]. The fantasy character had an addiction problem that gave them villain-like attributes. Someone implied the “villain coding” made it queer coding. Okay like. Fucking absolutely not. Because if the show in question WAS doing that, first off, that’s literally the kind to make mockeries of gay people so you literally shouldn’t be reaching for that and second off they’d be doing that lanky sassy bitch with eyeliner bullshit like Disney villains with it, give or take. You don’t apply this shit in reverse, “he has villain attributes and so he’s gay” is literally the worst possible angle to take a discussion while trying to slap fight in a representation arena. Like I can’t say enough DO NOT DO THIS SHIT. 

If you wanna write fic or headcanon whoever as gay or whatever have fun but like once people keep trying to talk about “coding” you’re talking about conscious elements inset by the authors. Does a character have a bunch of on the record sexual encounters that just happen to include dudes persistently even if we don’t exactly get the exact angle or Proof Of Dicking? That’s gay (also depending on the phrasing, as settled in older stuff, that’s just deadass queer text and settled long before this fandom ever had pissing matches about this shit in older cinema.) Does the character happen to be respectful and use like gender neutral pronouns on people? Sorry folks that unto itself isn’t gay, that’s gays writing allies at best, unless you can give specific and directly applicable situations relevant to the character rather than eternally vague blogging through and swearing up and down it’s just about their partners or some shit. Yelling it in general though, sorry, no. 

Does the character engage in things or events with non-het gendered partners that in the very least are heavily coded into the areas of relationships even if they’re unclear (eg, do they routinely go out with non-family people and hold deep or meaningful conversations in things that LOOK like a date, even if nobody SAYS it’s a date) -- congrats, you have coded text. Alone it could even be queerplat stuff, depending on the suprastructure of the plot, text, subtext and everything else around it (same way, gasp, a man and a woman can sit at a table and not necessarily be in a relationship, but if they’re trading courting gifts and having unique and powerful exchanges or have big like, “the heart is the thing that binds us together uwu” shit, we all figure out what the fuck is going on like grown assed adults.)

It’s easier to list things that are NOT subversive queer coding:

Insults against gay people

Immasculating commentary

Random foods short of it deadass being a gay author making fun of some gay meme shit in some gay equivalent of ‘right in front of my salad’

Favorite colors or clothing

---

We got it? Good. Rule of thumb though. Deadass unless you are involved in some thick-ass queer culture don’t try to queer code shit. I don’t even care if you’re queer yourself because that doesn’t mean you’ve actually been subject to the culture in a meaningful way. There’s 30 year old bis that grew up in white picket fence suburbias on top of trust funds with hovercraft parents guiding them through 17 degrees and keeping them out of party culture that married a het-passing relationship and settled down and started having babies and their grasp of queer culture ends at what they perceive out of memes online, if they even hover in actual queer crowds online at all as much as general ones. That person literally is not going to speak much of the language. They aren’t. At best they’ll speak the language of 30 year old trust fund het-married bisexual mothers which, I mean yeah, technically some queer language but that’s a very, very fucking niche experience path right there compared to street-dwelling club-goers that attend pride, hold D&D parties with all their coworkers they figured out are gay on the weekend, occasionally brick a window in a riot. The latter is gonna have a far more diverse queer experience. And by such, a far more diverse queer language.

That’s not even to gatekeep. 30 year old trust fund het-passing-marriage bi-mom is in fact bi. So yeah, they’re queer. But we’re talking about language and culture, which is related to but not something you inherit. It comes by lives and experiences.

And I think this is where a LOT of the fucked up early Queer Coding fuckery comes from in discourse. Yes we have a language. Hell, to some extent a few things might even kinda BE stereotypes but there’s a certain amount of living and being where you know the difference between “this is a stereotype made by straight people villainizing us that has no idea what we’re fucking like” or “this is a stereotype born out of mass marketing that targeted and victimized then imprinted on an entire population that we’ve come to recognize among ourselves.” Or even “this is a stereotype but FUCK YES it’s one we embrace, go get fucked, straights.” And it’s not NEARLY as ambiguous as fandom circle jerks try to make these things out to be in the interest of wanting every interpretation to be valid or every character to be gay or not wanting to admit some person may know what the fuck they’re talking about more than they do. 

Huge point on that last one though, because like. I’ve seen some angry straights that are pissy about the show try to throw wrenches in the gears by concern trolling as if in defense of the gays about “offensive queer coding” and most of the time they’re basically that “how do you do fellow kids gays” meme. “How do you do gays I am very concerned about *checks notes* the twitters talking about gay men walking fast” and half the time turn around like two tweets later like “besides the character doesn’t even have a lisp anyway” or some bullshit that is outright offensive ass stereotyping while they’re out here trolling over the fact that a gay man admits to diva worship as a cultural trait.

General rule of thumb: ask a queer culture immersed gay about queer coding.

Shipping culture in the blue hellsite is not queer culture, for the record. Even if a bunch of queerfolk are in it.

Thanks.

Sincerely,

A very tired gay

#supernatural #spn #fandom #queer coding

[teamdoubleoh]

Angels of Death

pt. 2/2                 pt. 1/2  

Bond and Moneypenny are requested as bodyguard for her highness, the duchess of Sussex, Morgana Pendragon. 

OR: Q and Bond are snarky and married, Eve has a crush and Morgana is fabulous

wordcount: 3470

Bond was a good spy. 

Despite what everyone seemed to think, he knew what he was doing most of the time and was always sure to take the best course of action. Well, from his perspective. He was a professional. 

He was also currently sitting in M’s office grinning like the Cheshire Cat. 

Mallory sighed. "Do you see any problems 007?." 

"Not at all sir." Bond answered honestly, still smiling widely. 

"Alright. I expect you ready in three hours maximum. Ask Q-branch to lend you one of the good cars. We don’t want to make a bad impression." 

Right. A good impression with the royal family. The one he had sworn his life to. For King and Country, that was his vow. Bond snorted. Q bas going to love this.

***

Ten minutes later Bond was standing with Q and Eve at the far end of Q-branch, disappointed but not surprised with the standard com system as well as a palm coded Walther PPK. “And I thought you loved me dear Q. What do I have to do to make me an exploding pen, hm? Dinner? Some special favours?” he murmured in Q’s ear while putting in the com and securing the Walther in the shoulder holster. 

“We’re married, James.” Q answered deadpan. He was reading the mission file while Eve enjoyed a cup of Q-branch's coffee. "It seems to be a standart body guarding mission. Keep the target safe and try not to get shot until absolutely inevitable. The one difference is that you're protecting royalty and that it’s our royalty." 

Eve sipped on her coffee and sighed in delight, before taking a look at the mission parameters. "Why isn't MI5 handling this one?" 

"Apparently all of their agents are busy right now. And James’ next mission is only in two months. Thats probably why they chose him." 

"-Aaaand because I’m such a good agent." 

"James, you almost laughed out loud in Mallory's office earlier. No one laughs in Mallory's office." commented Eve, rolling her eyes. 

Q shuffled trough the papers. "Well, the target is a royal so you better be a good agent, or there's no pudding for a week. Mummy doesn't want that kind of drama." Q frowned, as if that was the only concern about a member of the royal family being shot. 

"I'll take care." James assured him. 

"Who’s Mummy?" Eve asked, clearly confused. 

Q smiled. "I’ll introduce you some time, she’ll like you. So. The target’s name is Morgana Pendragon --" 

Eve chocked on her coffee. After half a minute of spluttering she could finally manage words again. "Q, my platonical soulmate, did you just say James is going to protect the unknowing love of my life, Morgana Pendragon? And the assignment is today?" 

"Yes. Now, if you’ll let me finish I’ll reorganise some stuff so Mallory sends you with James. The pining has to stop, you’re better than this." 

Eve looked like she might want to say something, but didn’t. 

"So. Morgana Pendragon, second in line to the throne. You will accompany her to the opening of a new hospital. You're supposed to be at the palace at 1400, so you've got almost three more hours. You’ll need passes, but I can organise those." Q overflew the rest of file but found nothing of interest. “Alright. You two better go get ready. I'll talk to M. Be back in two hours and I'll issue you one of the fancy cars. I bet Mallory wants us to make a good impression.”

***

Q gave them the Aston. Bond hummed “You are my sunshine” while Eve, wearing matching black dress pants and blazer, put her own Walther in the shoulder holster. 

“I didn’t know there was a Walther registered to my name and palmprint...” She mused, when Q handed it to her together with a com system. 

“There isn’t.” He smiled ever so slightly. “At least as far as the database is concerned.”

She grinned. “This is why we’re friends Q.” She put in her com and shrugged on the blazer. 

“Really? I thought it was because I made you those.” He said pointing down at her shoes. They were red lacquer high heels. Chic. And had knives hidden inside them. 

She put her head to one side. “I mean, you’re not wrong. I also value your ability to take no shit.” 

Q laughed. 

Bond, who was wearing a blue grey Tom Ford suit - his second favourite, Q realised - was finally done with his inspection of the Aston Martin. “Moneypenny, are you done flirting with the Quartermaster?” 

Eve only rolled her eyes. “No wonder it took us so long to figure out you were married. Look at that idiot.”

Q shrugged. “Well, I hate to say this, but we literally exchanged rings in the middle of Q-branch. Thats not what I call ‘figuring it out’, especially if you take into account that we weren’t even hiding anything. We thought you knew.”

“We’re flirting all the time.” Bond chimed in. 

Eve rolled her eyes. “What you call flirting, is beyond normal understanding.”

Bond grinned. “You hurt me Moneypenny.”

“You do realise you only twenty minutes left to get to the palace.” Q stated absentmindedly while fastening freshly printed ID’s to ribbons. “And don’t forget these.”

Within the minute the Aston was on the road. 

***

The butler had asked them to wait. After Eve had spent the entire drive gushing anxiously - a behaviour highly unusual for her - about the possibility of being late, they were now waiting. At least the palace was warmer than the Aston, who didn’t get much warmer than the usual Q-brach temperature of 18°C during their short drive through the cold December air. 

Maybe the duchess was a busier person than they’d thought. Maybe she was just fashionably late. 

Bond was standing in the middle of the room like he owned the place, Eve to his right. The entire room was decorated in golds and reds - the traditional pendragon colours. Since there was only a couch and a coffee table it was safe to assume the room was meant for greeting guests, which seemed like a spectacular waste of space, but such were the perks of royalty. 

After nine minutes of waiting the door at the far end of the room finally opened. 

Morgana Pendragon was taller than Bond. That was the first thing he noticed. Then Eve went stiff beside him and he decided it would be better if he did the talking. 

Q seemed to have the same idea. “Bond you're in charge. Eve, you can flirt later in the car.”

Bond took a step forward and extended his hand in greeting. “Your majesty.”

Morgana took it. Her handshake was surprisingly firm. “Please, Morgana or Ms. Pendragon, if you must.” 

Bond smiled amicably. “Commander Bond.”

“Commander?” Morgana lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow. 

“Formerly of the Royal Navy.” 

“And now?”

“MI6.”

Morgana’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Really, how intriguing. My Brother-in-Law works there too.”

Q chuckled over com. “Really now. Well, you should get going the event is going to start in less than an hour and you have to drive slowly because of temperature.”

Bond and Eve took simultaneously a step backwards and Bond gestured towards the door they had entered trough. “Shall we?”

***

Bond took the drivers seat and hummed “you are my sunshine” under his breath, leaving Eve and Morgana to converse on the backseat, Morgana on the right as was traditional. 

“So. “ said Morgana after closing her seatbelt. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

Eve smiled tensely and shook. Morgan's extended hand. “Eve Moneypenny.”

“Are you also from the military Ms. Moneypenny? Or may I call you Eve.”

“Eve is fine. I was made Lieutenant before I was recruited for MI6.” 

“And now you’re a bodyguard?” asked Morgana. 

Eve smirked. “Now I’m a secretary.”

Morgana sat up straighter, etiquette shrugged off like a silken nightgown. “Are you saying that you were promoted to lieutenant and now you have to keep track of a rich old mans schedule?” There was something fierce in her eyes. 

Eve smiled slightly. “You could say that, yes.”

Bond looked at them via rearview. “Moneypenny, stop leaving out all the juicy details! You make it sound as if everyone at six was a racist, mysogynistic pig.” He paused for a second. “Though there is that one guy in Accounting...”

Morgana relaxed against her seat. “Commander Bond, you read my mind. For a second there I thought I'd have to address the secret service over dinner tonight.” She sighed. “Now, do tell. What did Commander Bond mean?”

“After I was recruited for MI6 I was a field agent for a while. I was decent-”

Bond coughed. 

“-and I was offered a position in the double-oh program, but I declined. Shortly after, I was sent to assist Bond - sorry - Commander Bond on a mission in Istanbul, and I was put in a... difficult position. Now I work as M’s Secretary.”

“Except that ‘Secretary’ doesn’t really cut it. We have a bet going: How will Moneypenny become the next M.” 

“How come you never told me that!”

“Must have slipped my mind.”

“Are you betting too?” 

Bond shot her puppy dog eyes in the rearview. “Moneypants, I would never-”

Eve sighed exasperated. “So you do.” 

Bond started humming again. 

Morgana had watched the interaction with great interest. “Alright, cut the fancy talk. I have some questions. First: Does he go by ‘Commander’ or ‘Bond’?”

Eve glared at James trough the rearview. “Everyone calls him Bond, even though he was a commander in the navy and honourably discharged.”

Bond pouted. “Ouch Moneypenny, thats cruel. I was just getting used to the respectful tone!” Then he grinned again. James Bond couldn’t be sad for long when in his favourite car. 

Morgana exhaled loudly. “Oh Thank god. Commander Bond is way too long of a name, just so you know. Now. Did Bond just say the minions made a bet about you?”

“Sadly.” Eve sighed. I don’t know when the Minions started with that, but it must have been after Skyfall. Boothroyd wouldn’t have allowed anything of the sort.”

Morgana blinked. “Whoa, wait a minute Loads of information. Minions?”

Eve smiled warmly. “The R&D department of MI6 is called Q-branch, after their commander, The quartermaster. Bond wanted to annoy the quartermaster, so he started calling the subordinated minions. At first he was - excuse my language - pissed, but the term grew on him, and the minions themselves love it.” Eve’s smile turned into a smirk and she eyed Bond. “They also have a bet going about when the agents are gonna cost Q his last nerve so he’ll turn into a supervillain.”

Bond took a sharp right turn and slowly drove across the frozen parking space in front of the newly built Hospital, stopping in front of the main entrance. Eve and Bond got out and went to Morgana's door. Eve opened it and Bond led Morgana to the glass doors which opened automatically. Eve pushed the back door shut. 

Bonds head twirled around. “Why do you hate me Moneypants!” 

“Stop with the drama, it’s not even your car.” Eve said rolling her eyes. 

Inside Morgana was immediately welcomed with a warm applause from all sides. Eve and James sighed. Now came the worst part of the job. Ignoring the Speeches. 

***

Half an hour and what felt like ten thousand words too much later they were standing in the newly opened Lobby and sipped on cool champagne flutes. 

Q cleared his throat, announcing his presence via com. “Eve, you're playing sniper for now.” 

Eve, clearly thankful for the distraction smirked. Her voice was calm and low when she answered. “We all know I’m a very good sniper.” 

Bond silently lifted his eyebrow but kept talking to the duchess. 

Morgana noticed, of course. “What was that about?”

Neither Eve nor Bond answered immediately. 

“You can tell her. Her clearance is high enough.” came Q’s confirmation. 

“Our handler was telling Eve to play sniper -to stay a step behind - and she said that that would be fine since we all know she is a very good sniper.” Bond explained sparsely, distaste clear in his voice. 

Morgana lifted an eyebrow and turned to Eve. “Why is he so grumpy all of a sudden?” 

Eve leaned closer, so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “Remember that Istanbul mission I told you about earlier?” 

Morgana nodded and a wave of her perfume hit Eve like a sledgehammer in the gut. Nevertheless she continued. “Bond was fighting someone on top of a moving train. I was in a car and managed to arrive at a bridge the train was about to cross before the train. I was meant to take a shot, kill Bonds target for him while they were fighting. But well-” 

She shrugged, nonchalance dripping off of her like rain during a thunderstorm. “- I shot Bond. He fell off the train, and missed the bridge on his way down. Fell fifty feet into water, head down, with a bullet in the shoulder. He was presumed dead for months. But really, we should have known better; no one can kill James Bond.” 

Morgana took a step back and eyed Eve with respect. “We should have coffee some time.”

“I’d love too.” Eve smiled brightly. 

Bond sighed miserably. “ Love, get me out of here, Eve just told Morgana how she killed me and now they’re ganging up on me.”

Morgana eyed James, then his champagne. “Did he just-”

Eve shook her head. ”He’s not drunk. He’s talking to our handler, see?” She pointed to James’ right ear where the tiny spec of metallic black gave away the com, then pushed back her hair to show her own com. 

“...Did he just call your handler ‘Love’?”

Eve sighed. She was still not entirely over the fact that she hadn’t figured out that Q and James had been married all that time. 

Bond interrupted her, before she could say anything. He had taken a speedy recovery from his sulky mood and was now positively gleeful. He stepped closer to the two women so they formed a group and Eve took a few steps backwards in retaliation to keep and eye on the room. 

Bond emptied his champagne glass and handed it to a passing waiter. “The minions love betting. It’s a terrible habit of theirs. They bet about anything and anyone. Also anyones. When Q and I first met on the job we were flirting  the entire time - well, Eve calls it bantering, but no matter - and within a fortnight there was a betting pool about when we’d get together. But then I went under deep cover for six months. Everyone except Q thought I had left MI6 for a quiet live with the daughter of an Enemy of Six. The minions kept the betting pool running because they’re smart little bastards, and when I came back everyone wanted to kill me for breaking Q’s heart.” 

Morgana frowned. “I thought you weren’t together?”

Bond smirked. “We weren’t. I take it as a major compliment that they thought Q and I would fit well together, even after I had apparently left MI6 for a woman.”

“So they wanted you and Q together even though you’re straight? Sounds pretty homophobic to me.” 

“I’m bisexual, but thanks for the concern.”

“No I’m - I didn't mean - I meant, they thought you were straight? Sorry, I’m a bit overprotective - my brother is bi and his Spouse is pan .” 

She took a sip of champagne. “Also I’m a huge lesbian. “ She added like an afterthought. 

Bond grinned, Eve was going to love this. “It’s fine. Well, they disbanded the betting pool a fortnight ago.” Bond sighed. 

“Why? Did you guys get together? No... Don’t tell me - Q got a partner? You found someone else?” 

“I was sent on a mission to seduce a woman who had intel we needed - and much more we didn’t even know about - and only found out there that she only ever went for married men.” 

“I don’t think a wedding ring is in a standard kit for secret agents these days, hm?” Asked Morgana teasingly. “Though I have to say, you know how to tell a story.”

Bond smiled and bowed his head in thanks. “The minions were quite upset about this development too - they pride themselves into equipping an agent to their best interest at all times - and a wedding ring wasn’t on the list. Luckily -” Bond slipped his hand into the inner pocked of his jacket and produced a necklace with a golden band on it, “- I am a married man. We got the intel and I went home.”

Morgana's eyes went wide. “Now that is a plot twist. And congratulations.”

“Thank you. Story isn’t over yet. The minions were convinced I had been married before and my wife was dead. I mess up our rings sometimes since we mostly wear them on necklaces and it’s hard to tell the difference. So they kept the pool running. I arrived at MI6 five hours later and went to return my com. Q demanded I show him my ring. Turns out I had the wrong one so we exchanged our rings in the middle of Q-branch and went home.”

Morgana laughed brilliantly and Eves head turned as if on instinct. She knew Bond was going to tell the story brilliantly. He was a spy, a living story himself. Bond winked at her and she turned back to face the crowd. 

“Now that was a ride. I love a good storytelling, even better when the story is true.”

“A friend of mine loves stories too, maybe I could introduce you some time?”

Morgana's expression turned Icy. “Commander Bond, I’m sure I have mentioned I’m not interested in men your age.”

“Oh, no worries, you're actually the same age as her.” said Bond amicably. 

Morganas features softened instantly. “Still, no thank you, I just found someone quite perfect.”

“Really? Care to share?”

“I’d rather not. After all, I've only known her for a day, and she seems to have a habit of shooting people who cross her plans.”

Bonds smile widened. “Wonderful. If you should invite her for Christmas.” 

Morgana “Should I invite you and your husband too? Usually it’s just family, but I'm sure I could make an exception?”

“Oh I'll be there.” There was a certainty in his voice that astounded her. 

In that moment her Mobile ringed. She recognised the number immediately, already pressing accept. “Sir?” She said in a serious tone before breaking character. “How are you! I haven’t heard from you in ages, what was that all about?”

“Hello Morgana, how lovely to speak to you on this terrible, terrible day.”

“You are so melodramatic, it’s just winter.” Morgana smiled. After Merlin he was definitely her favourite brother-in-law. 

“Just winter she says. Oh, well what can I do... Never mind. You know I have a minor position in MI6, yes?”

“’Course. I’ve been buggering you about details for ages now.” 

“Bond is feeling terribly smug right now, because he doesn’t know I’m the one calling you - now before you say anything, How do you like Eve?” 

“Oh you know, Sherlock has his adorably perfect remorseless killer, I want my own too.”

“Good, because she’s my friend and I want to see her happy. You really should invite her for Christmas - and yes I know Bond just said that.”

“How?”

“I’m in his ear, metaphorically speaking.”

“...Wait are you telling me-”

“I’m his handler and you just met my husband of seven years whom I never bring to family dinner because he’s always away? Yes.” Morgana exhaled dramatically. “You are a menace, you know that right?”

“I try. I am also the Quartermaster of MI6, just so you know. I meant to introduce you at Christmas, but the he got this assignment short term. So back to business, you and Eve-”

“Oh no, mister were having lunch tomorrow and you’re filling me in about all the details, so-”

“-so you have the upper hand at Christmas, I know. If it’s any consolation; none of my brothers have met him yet because he keeps dying.”

“Is he with you right now, I mean- are they with you?”

“I silenced the coms, neither of them heard a word on my end. See you tomorrow then, hm?” 

“The usual place?”

“There is a reason it is the usual, is there not?”

“You silly genius, see you there! And thanks for the call!

“No problem, sister mine.”

She hung up. “We should get going.” 

‘It’s a small world’ Morgana thought to herself, taking Eves arm and manoeuvring towards the exit, Bond staying at her left. 

She smiled innocently at Him. Time to play her favourite game. “I’m so sorry, I had to take that. What were you saying?”

#007 fest 2020 #team00 #005.Vi #00q #idk if im making sense #but eve and morgana would 100% like each other

[mszegedy]

mszegedy’s nutrition guide for people who want to lose weight without getting another ED

This post was prompted by an acquaintance of mine who asked for help losing weight for trans reasons. It is written from a DID-centric point of view (because we both have it), and is intended for people who’ve already been through an ED, and are trying to be careful to not get another one. That said, most of the information in this guide is useful to everyone.

I know I am dipping my toes in a deep pool here, on a website where people have strong opinions about nutrition science, and about EDs, and about body positivity. Let me say this much: if you are currently experiencing or recovering from an ED, this guide is not for you. This is not a guide that will magically let you jump from hating your body and diet to being both thin and healthy. This is for people who already have a degree of confidence in themselves, and a degree of love for their body, and are just afraid of trying to make any changes to their weight at all, because they worry they’ll get an ED. If you still have an ED, then you need to get help for that first, and then, once you’re more confident, come back and read this guide.

Alright, so, as a system with a host who’s a trans biochemist with an interest in nutrition chemistry, and as a system that’s had an ED before (basic binge/restrict anorexia, but motivated by money rather than weight), this is what we’ve got to say about healthy weight loss:

First of all, the body positivity mantra, which I’m sure you’ve heard before but needs to be the headline of any weight loss guide: the healthiest weight is whatever makes you the happiest. It is not healthy to push yourself too hard to lose weight. It is also not healthy to hate your body. Find a comfortable balance between the two. For us, as a system experiencing gender dysphoria, that first meant putting a lot of effort into looking the way we wanted to, and then gradually easing up as we got more comfortable with the peculiarities of our body.

The single aspect of your diet that impacts your health the most is regularity. This doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to get the same amount of each nutrient every day, or even the same amount of calories per day. What it does mean is that you have to add eating each day to your schedule. If you have a history of ED, you may simply forget to eat most of the time. (I know we do.) That’s why you have to manually take control, and nail down a time window each day when you can eat. Even if it’s just once, although you should work your way up to two or three eventually. I don’t know how your system works, but in ours, basically, I do all the diet planning and execution, and everyone else whines about it (even our host, who shares our job as a biochemist).

Calories are good. Calories are fuel. If you are consuming calories, you are alive. Be far more afraid of not consuming enough calories than of consuming too many. Extra calories are ballast, supporting you on days when you can’t eat as much. Missing calories are death. Every calorie you eat is precious brain and body fuel. Your peak performance, especially brainwise, is when you’re not missing any fuel. Start worrying about whether you’ve had enough calories each day. But don’t count them! The number doesn’t matter! Trust me on this, the only meaningful part of your calorie intake is the digit in the thousands place, and if you try to calculate that, you’ll just end up counting calories again like a chump. Instead, just check whether you’re going to bed hungry or not. If you’re not hungry at the end of the day, and you’ve actually eaten, you’ve won that day. Learn to eyeball how much food lets you end a day like that.

Now that you’re forbidden to mess with the amount of calories you’re getting (beyond just making sure you’re getting enough), what can you mess with? Your diet’s nutrient breakdown. This is where knowing biochemistry comes in handy, because there’s SO many different kinds of nutrients to keep track of. First of all, the stuff that contains calories:

Sugars: The primordial fuel source. Pure energy, as far as your body is concerned. Avoid when trying to lose weight, but don’t feel guilty if you’re supplementing your calorie intake with it in small amounts on days when you otherwise wouldn’t be getting enough. Remember that there’s a really easy way to tell whether something contains sugar, namely whether it’s sweet. (Some things, like milk, aren’t sweet and still contain sugar. You just have to memorize those. And of course some things have non-sugar sweeteners in them, but in that case it’ll be obvious.)

Digestible starches: Sugars with a price. Still no nutritional value beyond energy, although they tend to come bundled with other nutrients like proteins. Again, not great if you’re trying to lose weight, but there’s no need to cut them out completely, unless you really don’t care about not being able to eat, say, potatoes. (There are also people who are helped by no-carb diets in other ways than weight loss for mysterious reasons, probably relating to allergies, but it’s not the end-all be-all of healthy diets that keto people make it out to be.)

Fats: A pretty inconvenient source of energy; breaking them down puts annoying, difficult-to-metabolize acids into your blood, and doesn’t net you all that much energy anyway. An ideal calorie source for losing weight; just make sure to consume as few sat fats as possible, and preferably no trans fats at all, which should be easy if you stay away from fast food places and stick to establishments that change out the oil in their fryers every, idk, 3 hours or so.

Amino acids and proteins: Now we’re getting somewhere! These guys are the “worst” energy sources out there. Breaking them up is very expensive, and turning the resulting amino acids into digestible calorie sources is a complicated and annoying process. But amino acids are a nutrient in their own right; every cell in your body is making tons of proteins continuously, some of them building important structures like skin and muscle, and they need a continuous supply of amino acids to do it. So, proteins? Great. Fantastic. You can’t have enough of them. Eat eggs and cheese and soy products, and if you’re that kind of person, meat. You can tell it's got amino acids and/or proteins in it when it tastes savory ("umami"); that's mainly the taste of glutamate, an important amino acid. Gluten is also made of proteins, but it’s even harder to digest than most other sources of protein, so you might have problems with it; and it comes bundled with a lot of starches, so, ehhh.

So, now for a couple non-calorie sources:

Vitamins: Vitamins have nothing in common with each other collectively; they’re just a bunch of random minor nutrients. If you’ve got your vitamins A, C, and D sorted out, then the only ones I’d worry about are folate (B9) and cobalamin (B12). B9 because it’s important for your brain, and tends to be missing in sufficient quantities from modern diets; we take methylfolate supplements every morning to make sure we get enough of it. B12 because it’s important in general, and may be missing in sufficient quantities from your diet, depending on what you eat. It’s only found in animal products, like meat, dairy and eggs. If you’re eating at least one of those regularly, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.

Omega-3 fatty acids: Technically contain calories, but not enough of them to matter. Found in fish, and good for your brain. We’re vegetarian, but we take two capsules of these every morning, because they really help with depression and memory, which are both problems for us.

Iron: Found in meat, beans, falafel, spinach, and lentils, among other things (like cocoa!). Needed to replenish blood. You shouldn’t need supplements for this unless you actually get diagnosed with iron deficiency, or lose a LOT of blood in a short time (which, uh, happens).

Water and sodium: Long story short, your blood is counterfeit seawater. Land organisms don't actually exist; we just brought the sea with us when we crawled out of it. To counterfeit seawater, you need water and sodium. Hence, why they're important nutrients to us. Your kidneys do an excellent job of maintaining a particular level of sodium in your blood, but if you eat too much more sodium than you drink water, or drink too much more water than you eat sodium, then they won't be able to keep up. You usually shouldn't have to worry about this, but if everything you eat is salty, then maaaybe you should drink more water, or dial down the sodium in your diet. (Anything wet contains water, from energy drinks to the juices of fruits to sauces, so it's not very hard to get water. But some things contain a higher sodium-to-water ratio than you need, so they won't help you balance out a salty diet. Be mindful.)

Dietary fiber, aka non-digestible starches: I don’t have anything interesting to say about these. Conventional wisdom about fiber seems to be correct, as far as I know. I only listed it because it’s in most nutrition facts in the US.

So, now that you know the roles of the various kinds of nutrients, just eyeball the correct amounts of them for your diet. Broadly, the less carbs you eat, the more weight you’ll lose, but it’s not a race. Find a nutritious diet that makes you happy. Think about all your favorite foods and ingredients, and think about their nutrient breakdowns. Mentally award yourself points for eating nutritionally diverse foods. It’s a healthy thing to turn your ED instincts towards. Good luck!

(If people ask for sources I’ll add them, but I’ve already spent way too much time on this guide, so I won’t do it immediately.)

#biochemistry #nutrition #did #trans #ed #weight loss #nutritron science #eating disorders #health

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2009

20 to 21 years old. And so the 2000s end, not with a whimper, but with an explosion of upbeat, great pop songs.

Only one third of these lists left to make!

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

First to second and final year of my Master degree in Contemporary History. Also got two summer jobs that year. I was basically only researching and writing my master thesis at this point and trying to survive on a 50€ per month budget to pay for transport, clothes, driving lessons, and food apart from one meal a day. Needless to say, some corners had to be cut and my health wasn’t the best. I was also trying to register to pass some concours d’Etat to be a government worker considering there was 0% chance I’d be able to find a job otherwise with my qualifications and my mother had been trying to find an excuse to throw me out for more than four years at this point. Basically I was broke, stressed out and in panic mode.

Thank god, the music was mostly energetic and upbeat on the radio. I can’t imagine what my mood would have been like if the charts had been as horribly depressed as in 2018 or 2019.

This was also the year when my favorite music reviewer ever, Todd In The Shadows, started to make his first videos, so you might think his lists are going to influence mine, but as it turns out we have very, very different tastes for the most part (I mean come on, the guy hates Depeche Mode), so... not so much. But he helped me discover a lot of songs I would have ignored otherwise, so yeah, godspeed, Todd.

It should be mentioned that the two songs that I wanted to put at the top of this list before looking at the actual year-end lists turned out to be non-elligible and that is extremely frustrating. Obviously, as I mentioned in the previous post, there’s Life In Technicolor II by Coldplay, which has an incredibly fitting name since it’s one of their most colorful songs ever. But I’m not even sure I would have put it at #1 since this was the year of Mika’s second album, and oh my god, We Are Golden was FANTASTIC. It’s my absolute favorite song from the guy, the music video is incredibly fun, and I listened to that shit on a loop as soon as it dropped.

I usually don’t put such large links for non-elligible songs but the fact this isn’t elligible is nothing short of criminal. Check it out if you’ve never heard it.

As for albums from bands I liked... eh. Lacuna Coil dropped Shallow Life, which was not as good as KarmaCode, Pet Shop Boys dropped Yes which wasn’t nearly as good as Fundamental, Depeche Mode dropped Sounds of the Universe which was DEFINITELY not as good as Playing the Angel (I liked Wrong, though. But it’s not elligible), Eminem released Relapse which was joyless and pretty bad and he was kinda dead to me at that point (even if it wasn’t as terrible as Encore AND he had that song with Drake that was very good), Placebo released Battle for the Sun which was pretty great but still not as good as their previous two albums, Paradise Lost had Faith Divides Us Faith Unites Us and basically same thing there, and Indochine had La République des Météors which is imho their worst record in the past twenty years, by far.

Long story short, every single one of the bands and artists I loved who released an album that year let me down (except Placebo, maybe).

And then VNV Nation released Of Faith, Power And Glory, I listened to it, and suddenly I had a new favorite band, and everything was good and beautiful in the world again. Album of the year for me, hands down.

With that out of the way, a few honorable mentio-HOLY SHIT HOW MANY OF THESE ARE THERE, WTF

Replay (Iyaz) - A perfectly good and innocent little earworm.

Run This Town (Rihanna) - I don’t like the original very much (Kanye’s verse is atrocious) but I've had a mashup of it with Bach’s Tocatta & Fugue in D minor (yes you read that right) on my mp3 player for years now, so this has to count. The mashup is called Run This Town In D Minor. It’s one of my favorite mashups ever. I even made fanart of it once! Look it up if you can, the original video has apparently disappeared.

Circus (Britney Spears) - You know it’s a good year for pop when even Britney Spears makes music I like.

Magnificent (U2) - Wait, even U2 was making decent music? I had zero use for them since at that point Linkin Park had more or less taken over their ecological-musical niche of “mainstream epic-sounding pop-rock music with tortured vocals and Emotions(tm)” but that one was still kinda nice.

Même Pas Fatigué (Magic System & Khaled) - I’ve said that before and I’ll say it again but they always bring a smile to my face and I don’t get why it’s ‘cool’ to hate their songs in my country. Yeah, they often sound the same, but I’d listen to ten similar-sounding Magic System songs in a heartbeat whereas you’d have to pay me to listen to ten similar-sounding Nickelback songs.

Day n Nite (Kid Cudi) - This had a tendency to get stuck in my head, but not at all in an unpleasant way.

21 Guns (Green Day) - Much better than I remembered.

When Love Takes Over (David Guetta), Stereo Love (Edward Maya ft Vika Jigulina), Evacuate the Dancefloor (Cascada) - That year was full of catchy, stupid, energetic songs, wasn’t it?

Greenlight (John Legend) - If I had better taste, this would be on the list. Alas, you’re reading the top 10s of someone who once put Blue (Eiffel 65) in a #1 spot, so yeah.

In Your Hands (Charlie Winston) - Same thing, basically.

Like a Hobo (Charlie Winston) - “Like a hobo from a broken home, nothing’s gonna stop me”, said this very useful song. Now is a good time to remind you that my nickname at the public university was The Hobo. So yeah. I liked this song a lot and I still do.

Forever (Drake) - Drake and Eminem are both amazing on this track. Unfortunately there’s also Kanye West and Lil Wayne on it. But. Like. “I'm Hannibal Lecter so just in case you're thinking of saving face / You ain't gonna have no face to save”. Dude. Duuuuuude.

You Found Me & Never Say Never (The Fray) - Did I mention I really, really liked this band. I think I did. Several times.

Paparazzi & Love Game (Lady Gaga) - Would both have had a chance to land on the list without the incredible amount of great, catchy tunes that year had to offer.

C’est Dans l’Air (Mylène Farmer) - Mylène Farmer had THREE singles on the French year-end list and this is the ONLY one I like. Good electro, mediocre verses but a great chorus (and a weird and kind of hilarious music video). Basically a song saying we’re all going to die and she can only sing about it. It’s strange, it’s a bit dark in a fun way, but it’s sadly not enough to land on the list, and it was the last cut from it.

Phew. Making this list was like a Hunger Games of catchy, upbeat, stupid songs to find which one was the best. It’s not #1 but I’m still shocked I had to put it so high.

But first, the runner ups.

10 - Fire Burning (Sean Kingston)

US: #33 / FR: Not on the list

Yes, ALL these honorable mentions were kicked out to give the last spot on the list to this guy and a chorus that goes “somebody call 911, shawty fire burning on the dance floor, WOAH!”.

The fact that I don’t feel bad about it means this was the right pick for that spot.

9 - Rain (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #22

Anybody else thinks Mika looks like the Fourth Doctor on this screenshot from the music video or is it just me?

Anyway. So yeah, as I said, We Are Golden would have topped this list if it had been elligible. Sadly, it isn’t, but Rain is. I don’t like it nearly as much as We Are Golden, but what can I say. It’s still Mika. I’ll take whatever I can.

8 - I Gotta Feeling (Black Eyed Peas)

US: #4 / FR: #17

I lost about 80% of the respect I had for this song the day I realised its untouchable, marvellous beat was very probably stolen from Take a Dive. I still love it though. Had a few actual parties in 2010 and early 2011 and this was garanteed to make everyone dance, even people like me who don’t know how to dance.

And then the dancefloor died instantly anytime anyone tried to put Boom Boom Pow on because it’s impossible to dance on that one. But that’s another story.

7 - Poker Face (Lady Gaga)

US: #2 / FR: #5

Needless to say this was absolutely everywhere and overplayed to death and beyond, and the fact I still wanted to listen to it and put it on my playlists really tells you how good I thought it was (and still is).

6 - Ça m’énerve (Helmut Fritz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #1 (...yes.)

This is a novelty song with a singer pretending to have a thick German accent, complaining about various things in France, like the fact he doesn’t fit the dress code for a club, that he wanted to buy a sweater with “Rock” written on it but it’s out of stock, that some girls can fit in a size 34 blue jean and not him, that there’s a queue of people trying to buy macarons at the Ladurée shop, and so on. And every time he concludes “that gets on my nerves”, said in a very flat tone. Here’s a translation.

It was overplayed as f█ck here. Think Despacito levels of overplay. But the beat is great and it’s still hysterical after having heard it about a hundred times that year.

Fun fact, while I was making this list and relistening to this song, my s.o said “haha that sounds great! What is it?” and I stared at him in disbelief. Somehow, he was completely serious. That’s like someone escaping the Great Macarena Onslaught Of 1996. What happened. How.

5 - Waking Up In Vegas (Katy Perry)

US: #36 / FR: Not on the list

Again, I must remind you that my s.o is a Katy Perry fan and that I’ve heard this song even more than the average radio listener did at the time, and it’s STILL #5 on this list. What can I say. It’s a ton of fun and one of my favorite songs from her.

4 - New Divide (Linkin Park)

US: #61 / FR: Not on the list

Is this their best song? Not by a f█cking mile. I thought it would be much lower when I started to make this specific list, but what can I say. Linkin Park is like that one old friend that you kept no contact with for years, and once you meet them again, it’s like they never left. Who cares if that wasn’t nearly as good as Numb or In the End? Not me, that’s for sure.

Also, “In every loss in every lie / In every truth that you deny / And each regret and each goodbye / Was a mistake too great to hide / And your voice was all I heard / That I get what I deserve”. Holy shit, dude.

3 - Good Girls Go Bad (Cobra Starship)

US: #43 / FR: Not on the list

BEHOLD. THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF THE 2009 ‘CATCHY UPBEAT STUPID SONGS’ HUNGER GAMES. THE CATCHIEST, UPBEAT-IEST, STUPIDEST OF THEM ALL. HERE IT IS AT LAST.

The thing I love about this is that it’s a song made by nerds for nerds and that the singer looks and sounds completely non-threatening. As Todd said in his own list back in the day, “that guy couldn’t make good MILK go bad” and that’s what’s so endearing about the song, I think.

Also yes, this is, in fact, placed above Linkin Park.

2 - Use Somebody (Kings of Leon)

US: #14 / FR: Not on the list

This was my #1 at first. I LOVED it. I even bought the album, even though, as you know, my funds were very low that year. That music is soaring. It’s majestic. Well, the lyrics aren’t that majestic and soaring, it’s about loving someone and trying to catch their attention, but the rest? Damn this is intense. It was also elligible for the 2010 list, by the way, where I ALSO wondered if it should be #1, but in both cases, it wasn’t meant to be.

And so this list of 2009 hit songs comes to a close.

It began with the forging of the Great 2009 Upbeat Songs. Three were given to the Punk Rock hits. Seven to the Dance Tracks. And nine, nine songs were gifted to the Radio Friendly Pop Songs, which above all else desired power.

But they were all deceived, for another song was made. Deep in the forgotten land of Synth Pop, in his Parents’ Basement, the Dark Lord Adam Young forged a master song, and into this song he poured his joy, his talent and his will to dominate all charts.

One song to rule them all.

1 - Fireflies (Owl City)

US: #60 / FR: Not on the list (76 the next year)

I know. It’s a meme nowadays. But still. Have you any idea how satisfying a song with an initial beat that looks like small pulsing yellow and blue lights in the dark ACTUALLY titled “Fireflies” is? How gentle it all sounds and looks, even when the music soars? The number of drawings and paintings I made just based on the colors of THAT song? It’s like a synth pop version of one of my favorite Mike Oldfield tunes ever, Weightless.

And then, on top of all the rest, how relatable was that guy’s body language and general attitude?? Before even knowing he was on the spectrum I was like “oh BIG mood.”

Also following his twitter was one of the best decisions I ever made.

So yeah. I would have loved to put Coldplay or Mika in that #1 spot, but I’m not too mad about it thanks to this wonderful little song and its author. Such a shame Deer in the Headlights and Alligator Sky aren’t elligible for the 2011 list.

Next up: Johannes finally moves out and finds a great job and starts living a little, plus here’s a #1 that will be difficult to justify

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

[tigerkirby215]

5e Warwick the Uncaged Wrath of Zaun build (League of Legends)

(Image by Riot Games)

Do you ever notice that some of the champion names have absolutely no relation to what the champion actually is? Why don’t they just call Warwick by his real name: the Steampunk Furry.

Anyways this was another build that sprung into my head sort-of on a whim, but this build also capitalizes on two classes I’ve wanted to try for awhile. That and I just like Warwick and think it would be fun to have a rabid animal in the party.

GOALS

Eternal Hunger - We need to be able to keep ourselves in the fight with constant self-sustain. Unfortunately chomping on your enemies isn’t allowed officially, and I think your group would be weirded out if you suggested it.

Can you feel the rush now? - Warwick is a fast boy who can track down enemies and strike them down even faster, especially when they’re injured.

Awoo - You’ve gotta be able to howl at the moon and fear enemies around you as the local furry.

RACE

While Warwick started out as a human we’re going to go with Shifter from Wayfinder’s Guide to Eberron. All Shifters get 60 feet of Darkvision but you get a different Shifting Feature as a Bonus Action based on your subrace. The great thing about Warwick is that he’s sort of a mish-mash of every animal out there so you can arguably take any subrace you want, though I’d probably say that Longtooth isn’t the best option since while the ability to bite is in-character it’s sadly not too useful for the build. You will also get temporary hitpoints when you shift equal to your level plus your Constitution modifier to keep you in the fight.

With that in mind your first option is Beasthide for +2 to Constitution and +1 to Strength along with the ability to use Primal Howl to make you a little bulkier, increasing your AC by 1 and granting you a d6 of temporary hitpoints on top of your shifting temp HP. (Note: I’d personally rule that since it’s written as “additional” temporary hitpoints the extra HP would be added onto any existing temp HP you might have.) You also get the Athletics skill for free.

Swiftstride isn’t the most in-character but it does give you +2 to your Dexterity and +1 to your Charisma as well as the Acrobatics skill. Your shifting feature does let you move faster though.

But the one I personally chose when making this build was Wildhunt which gives you +2 to Wisdom and +1 to Dexterity along with the Survival skill. But the most important part of the Wildhunt Shifter is the ability to Shift to turn on Blood Hunt, granting Advantage on all Wisdom checks (Survival being Wisdom, and I’d argue that tracking the scent of Blood would be Survival) and the inability to be hit by attacks with Advantage. The second part is an added bonus but what we’re really here for is better blood tracking.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Warwick is a speedy boy and can jump halfway across the lane with enough movement speed.

14; WISDOM - While Warwick isn’t the most “sane” of individuals Wisdom is tied to tracking skills, which we need. It’s also the main stat for the vast majority of our class features.

13; STRENGTH - Warwick has the ability to rip through a Zaun elevator pod... gondola... travel... thing. Most of that strength probably comes from the chemicals Singed pump into him but Strength is still Strength.

12; CONSTITUTION - Most of Warwick’s tankiness comes from self-sustain but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a bulky boy in his own right.

10; CHARISMA - Warwick can be cute and silly but the main reason we’re not dumping Charisma is so that we can still be Intimidating.

8; INTELLIGENCE - You got turned into a dog and last time I checked dogs weren’t good at math.

BACKGROUND

For the first time ever I’m going to suggest making your own background so make sure your DM is cool with that. If you go with D&D Beyond’s options for a custom background take 2 skills and 2 languages - take Intimidation and Investigation as your skills of choice as they’re conveniently right beside each other on an alphabetical list. For your languages take Draconic and if you’re in the Eberron setting Riedran would work? But otherwise take Infernal for more snarling and growling.

Take either the Pirate of Urchin background feature for your own: Pirates have a Bad Reputation which will make the common-folk too scared of you to stop you from doing petty crimes like property damage. Urchins meanwhile know all the City Secrets to move through the city faster and catch up on prey. "I know Zaun's streets like the back of my claws." Regardless you’re going to have to make your own starting gear (my suggestion: just take the starting equipment from Urchin minus the fluff stuff) and a name for your background: feel free to call it the “Uncaged Wrath of Zaun” background.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - MONK 1

We’re starting this build off as a Monk; yup! You get two Monk skills of your choice: Athletics and Insight will let you smell your enemies fear before you pounce them and suppress them. (You also get a tool or music instrument of your choice which really doesn’t matter.) You also get Unarmored Defense which makes your AC equal 10 + your Dexterity modifier + your Wisdom modifier while not wearing armor or using a shield.

But most importantly you get Martial Arts which modify your attacks in a bunch of ways.

You can now use Dexterity as your ability modifier for unarmed strikes instead of Strength which is good because your DEX is a lot higher than your STR.

You unarmed strikes are a d4 which is just a nice increase to your damage overall.

You can make an unarmed strike as a bonus action after taking the attack action, so you can swipe twice instead of once.

You can also use a simple weapon that doesn’t have the two-handed property or a shortsword as a Monk weapon but it wouldn’t be in character unless your DM considers “giant mechanical claws” as a “weapon.” Side note: ask your DM if your unarmed strikes can do Slashing damage - they might say no but it won’t impact much.

LEVEL 2 - MONK 2

2nd level Monks get Ki which let you do some cool steampunk werewolf powers. Flurry of Blows lets you use Tiamat for two attacks as a bonus action instead of one, Patient Defense lets you pop Primal Howl to give enemies Disadvantage to hit you, and Step of the Wind lets you use Ghost to Dash or Disengage as a Bonus Action.

You also get Unarmored Movement to increase your movement speed by 10 so you can chase down your prey.

LEVEL 3 - MONK 3

3rd level Monks get their Monastic Tradition and Way of the Long Death is perfect for spooky good boys. You first get Touch of Death which gives you temporary hitpoints equal to your Monk level plus your Wisdom modifier whenever you reduce a creature to 0 hitpoints. Currently that should be 6 temporary hitpoints, and considering that your max health should be around 20 that’s pretty good.

In addition you gain Deflect Missiles which lets you use a reaction to reduce the damage of an incoming ranged attack by 1d10 + your Dexterity modifier + your monk level. If the damage is reduced to 0 you can catch it with a Ki point and launch the attack back - using the enemy’s power against them is more of Sylas’ thing but reducing the damage if an incoming skillshot certainly is in your skillset.

LEVEL 4 - MONK 4

4th level Monks get Slow Fall to use your reaction to reduce fall damage you take by five times your monk level. But more importantly you get an Ability Score Improvement and that uneven Strength score has been bugging me so take the Athlete feat with a Strength improvement to bump it up a little. Athlete will also make you far more mobile, allowing you to quickly stand up if you’re knocked down and also pounce at enemies without as much of a startup.

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 1

Now that we’ve gotten our passive it’s time to get our tracking skills up. Multiclassing into Ranger gives you one skill from their list and I’d take Perception to see anyone trying to sneak up on you or sneak away.

You also get Natural Explorer and Favored Enemy and like I said the last time I made a Ranger build using this skills is really up to you to discuss them with your DM. However I’d highly suggest using the Class Feature Variants UA for the Ranger and pick up Deft Explorer and Favored Foe.

Let’s start with Favored Foe first: this will let you cast Hunter’s Mark a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier. You don’t need to concentrate on the spell which means your concentration can’t be broken, and you can use it to both track your enemy and do extra damage to them.

Meanwhile Deft Explorer has a variety of skills to choose from and Canny lets you gain Expertise in one skill from a variety of skills: Survival is the obvious choice to help you track down prey. (If your DM is cool and lets you pick an additional skill from that list since you already have Survival proficiency I’d suggest grabbing Stealth as well.) (You also get two Languages so pick-and-choose whatever.)

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 2

At level 2 Rangers get a Fighting Style, and while most of the baseline options don’t work with our Martial Arts the same Class Feature Variants added a few new Fighting Styles including Blind Fighting, which is the best option we have of the bunch. You can already see in the dark but now if you’re hit with a Blinding Assault you can still take down that annoying ADC.

You also get access to Spellcasting: Speak with Animals lets you use your bestial half to communicate with your brethren, and Animal Friendship lets you convince them that you’re the Alpha Dog.

LEVEL 7 - RANGER 3

3rd level Rangers get Primeval Awareness and for once I’m not going to suggest taking the Class Feature Variant option since being able to track creatures within one mile of you is quite in-flavor for Warwick, seeing as he can smell injured champions from across the map. But if you do choose to use Primal Awareness instead you get access to some one-time use spells that can be helpful for the party, and it’s honestly far more practical overall.

Speaking of spells you get another one and Beast Bond will let you take far more direct control over any minor test subject you find in the streets of Zaun.

But of course we’re here for our Ranger Conclave so take the Hunter conclave to be the best at hunting down prey and striking them down. At level 3 you get your Hunter’s Prey feature which lets you choose between three options: Colossus Slayer is perfect for a wild boy who strikes down injured foes. You do an extra d8 of damage whenever you attack a target that is missing health but can only apply this damage once per turn, so no you can’t Flurry of Blows to do 3d8 extra damage. (Though it would be in character to use Flurry of Blows against a weakened enemy, and would give you a higher chance to get Touch of Death health.) Also as of Sage’s Advice from Jeremy Crawford it is confirmed that unarmed strikes are considered “weapon attacks” for the sake of class features that require you to make a weapon attack.

NOTE: By this point we’ve honestly got everything we want from Ranger. (Tracking abilities and more damage to injured targets.) I take this multiclass a little further in my build but you’re more than welcome to stop leveling Ranger after level 3. Taking extra levels in Ranger makes you lose out on some of the stronger Monk class features (notably Diamond Soul) but you do get more spells and your second subclass feature with more Ranger levels. It’s up to you how you spread out the levels.

LEVEL 8 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement: I’d suggest increasing your Dexterity for deadlier claws and more survivability.

LEVEL 9 - MONK 5

Level 5 Monks get an Extra Attack so you can become the monster you always were. Your Unarmed Strikes also increase to a d6 now. But most importantly you get access to Stunning Strike: you can spend 1 Ki point to pounce on an enemy and if they fail a Constitution saving throw they’re stunned until the end of your next turn.

LEVEL 10 - MONK 6

Level 6 Monks get Ki Empowered Strikes which make their fists magical for the sake of overcoming resistances as well as more Unarmored Movement to chase down your prey faster.

But most importantly level 6 Long Death Monks get Hour of Reaping which lets them use an action to attempt to fear all enemies in a 30 foot radius: a far larger radius than Warwick’s near point-blank Primal Howl AoE. They must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be frightened of you until the end of your next turn, having Disadvantage to attack anything when they can see you and being unable to approach you.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 11 - MONK 7

7th level Monks get Evasion. If you’re targeted by a skillshot that forces you make a Dexterity saving throw you take no damage if you succeed, or half if you fail. Considering that you have +8 to Dex saves and are about to get an Ability Score Improvement you should dodge anything that comes your way.

You also get Stillness of Mind which lets you pop QSS to end any effect of being Charmed or Frightened as an action. "The chains are broken... the beast is free."

LEVEL 12 - MONK 8

At level 8 Monks get another Ability Score Improvement and you’re going to want to cap your Dexterity for maximum damage along with extreme evasion and high AC.

LEVEL 13 - MONK 9

9th level Monks get Unarmored Movement Improvement. You can now use your claws to run along walls or “jump” (run over) water as long as you end your turn on solid ground afterwards. "A monster's inside you... I'll tear it out!"

LEVEL 14 - MONK 10

At level 10 as Monk you get Purity of Body which makes you immune to disease and poison: good because chomping down on your foes can’t be healthy. (Please don’t chomp down on your foes.)

Your Unarmored Movement also increases to 20 feet now, making your total movement speed 50 feet per turn. Rev up!

LEVEL 15 - MONK 11

Level 11 Long Death Monks get Mastery of Death, allowing you to spend a Ki point when you would’ve gone down to instead stay at 1 health. Warwick can be deceptively sustainable and you have to be careful when he’s low or else he’ll just chomp on you. Your Martial Arts die also increases to a d8 now.

LEVEL 16 - MONK 12

12th level Monks get another Ability Score Improvement and now you can put your points in Wisdom for better AC and a harder saving throw against your Stunning Strike. “The blood you spilled calls to me.”

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 17 - RANGER 5

Bouncing back to Ranger for our last few levels: 5th level Rangers get an Extra Attack which you already have, so you don’t get that. You do get 2nd level spells though such as Locate Animals or Plants. "Killing, I remember."

LEVEL 18 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers get another Favored Enemy which if you’re using UA doesn’t matter, and if you aren’t using UA you should metagame with your DM to choose. You also get another favored terrain for Natural Explorer, or you can take Roving from the Deft Explorer Unearthed Arcana feature for another 5 feet of movement along with a climbing speed (that we already had from Athlete) and a swimming speed. Yes this means that you have a total of 55 movement speed and you can also swim and climb with that movement!  "Try... hide!"

LEVEL 19 - RANGER 7

7th level Hunter Rangers get Defensive Tactics and truthfully any of them are good for you. Multiattack Defense will let you tank heavy damage and Steel Will will make sure nothing stops you from chasing your prey. Escape the Horde isn’t as useful since you can disengage with Step of the Wind but it’s still an option.

You also get another spell and Animal Messenger feels in flavor? You can intimidate a small animal to deliver a message up to 25 words long before it travels to the location to deliver the message. It then speaks in your voice to the person you indicated and the spell ends, and if the animal dies on the way the message isn’t sent. But to be honest take whatever spells you want since I’m picking the spells that are in-flavor but not the most useful spells. At level 19 your spell choice isn’t too massive anyways.

LEVEL 20 - RANGER 8

And we conclude with an Ability Score Improvement to Wisdom for maximum AC, Ki save, and Druid spell save. You also get Land’s Stride which lets you ignore difficult terrain and nonmagical plants, and have Advantage against Zyra’s magical plants if she tries to stop you.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Titanic Hydra - You have 20 AC and while you aren’t the tankiest dog you have an insane amount of temporary hitpoints, gaining 17 temp HP when you down an enemy and 21 temp HP by shifting. Add in your shifting feature making you unable to be hit with Advantage and Mastery of Death allowing you to just not die it will be incredibly hard to down you.

What have you done?! - You are fast. You are the fast. 55 feet of movement speed that isn’t stopped by difficult terrain, water, walls, or even empty space will guarantee that you pounce your foes.

Choke on your screams - You have strong damage with Hunter’s Mark on up to four attacks and Colossus Slayer adding another one. You also have a variety of crowd control with an AoE fear for groups or Stunning Strike for individuals. Regardless you can keep your prey locked down once you reach them.

CONS

All the blood you've spilled - Temporary hitpoints don’t stack, so if your teammates have other sources of temp HP a lot of your features end up being useless. If Lux gives an Inspiring Leader speech that extra health will be appreciated but it’ll stop you from getting maximum value from your other features.

It takes a monster to gut one - Almost all your damage is slashing bludgeoning, and while it does overcome resistance to magic it won’t overcome general damage resistances. Yes you can take a weapon as backup but you’re still very limited in damage types.

Zaun will watch you bleed - You spell slots and more importantly your Ki points are limited, and only come back after a Long Rest. While Way of the Long Death doesn’t take as much Ki as other Monk subclasses you still need your points for Stunning Strikes, Flurry of Blows, and Mastery of Death. If the long rests come frequently this won’t be an issue but you’ll quickly wear out over prolonged combat.

But even the best dog can get tired out. Run into combat, pounce the important targets, get a snack to sustain you, and keep fighting until your enemies are nothing more than red mist. Take frequent jungle breaks and focus on objectives, and seriously: don’t bite your enemies. That’s weird.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

ALTERNATE BUILD OPTIONS

More Monk levels?

Like I said you only really need 3 levels in Ranger for Colossus Slayer, and more levels in Monk will give you better Martial Arts damage, Diamond Soul, as well as Touch of the Long Death (IE worse Quivering Palm.) 16 Monk / 4 Ranger is a perfectly good build to keep the same number of Ability Score increases and still grab DS, though it does mean you lose out on TotLD. 17 Mk / 3 Rg would give you TotLD but lose out on one ASI, but considering that this would only mean slightly worse AC and saving throws that’s not too terrible, especially if you’re using something other than Standard Array.

#DnD 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #dnd multiclass #dnd #League of Legends #league of legends warwick

[cryoculus]

Can you do angst? If not it's okay, but can you do a scenario with bokuto or tsukishima's long time friend developing feelings for them. But the guy is to focused on his current crush to notice his long time friend. But she wants to be a good friend so she sets up the guy and his crush, and nearly dies. But refuses to tell the guys why she almost died. Sorry if this is confusing for you to understand.

» Word Count: 3,475 words

It took a while for me to fill this in, sorry for that! I just hit a wall with how the near-death experience was gonna play out, but I managed to come up with it this way. Note: this has become Akaashi-centric, ‘cause the best way that I could convey the friend’s grief was through the eyes of someone as perceptive as Akaashi. GOD this is about 3,000+ words, so I put the rest under the cut!

EDIT: I realized that the request wasn’t specific to certain pronouns, and I FORGOT THAT while I was writing this, and subconsciously implied that the friend was female. Sorry!

Akaashi was not one to stick his nose in matters that didn’t involve his direct interference. It was a principle that he trained himself to uphold, since he observed too often that, when one person meddled in another’s business more than he needs, it comes back to bite him in the behind in the near future.

But sometimes…sometimes he convinces himself that inaction could be the worst of sins he can commit. 

His predicament began on the day he walked across the bridge that led to his neighborhood, when he didn’t have any volleyball practice. The sun was beginning to set, emitting a resplendent orange glow in the vast sky. At that moment, Akaashi was so caught up with the twilight in the West, that he barely noticed the figure emerging from the bottom of the concrete bridge. He did though.

“(Name)-san?” Akaashi stopped in his tracks, regarding his senpai, whose uniform was soaking wet, with a raised eyebrow. 

You snapped your head in his direction, panic filling your eyes. Scrambling to your feet, you acknowledged Akaashi’s presence with a curt bow. 

“A-Akaashi! What brings you here?” Your tone came a bit shaky, like you were hiding something from him. Akaashi wasn’t particularly curious, but he was concerned. You’re Bokuto’s best friend, after all.

“Did you…fall into the river, (Name)-san?” That’s what he could deduce from the situation – drenched uniform, scrapes on your legs and arms, and a slight shiver in your composure. 

“W-Wha – oh! No, no, no! You’ve got it wrong!” You raised your hands, denying his assumption. “I d-dropped my phone in the water, I came to, um, retrieve it…”

Akaashi retained his aloof expression, but he could somehow tell that you weren’t telling the truth. It was rare to see you like this. You’ve always been a cheery person, who never seemed to lose their glee. However, it wasn’t like him to press others for information, so he ended the curious exchange by saying, “Do tend to your cuts, (Name)-san. They might get infected.”

You chuckled, lightly knocking your fist on your temple. “I can’t believe my kouhai is telling me off for such a clumsy thing I did. Thanks.”

The two of you were headed in opposite directions. Akaashi was treading forward, while you were headed to where he came from. At the corner of his eye, when the two of you passed by the other, he could see the ivory-tinged lilies you held in a tight grip behind your back. 

When you finally passed him, Akaashi paused once more, looking back at your retreating form. Why had you picked the rare flowers that bloomed under this bridge, knowing it’d be a risk? He didn’t know. 

But he knew better than to meddle. 

“Yo, Bo!”

Akaashi’s ears perked up at the familiar voice. Morning practice had just finished, and everyone was beginning to fix their things for their first period. Bokuto, who was at the other side of the gym, greeted you with a high five.

“Ahh, you’re a lifesaver, (Name)!” His captain exclaimed, encasing you in a bone-crushing hug. “It looks exactly like the kind she wanted! I couldn’t find these anywhere! Where’d you get them?”

When you pushed the energetic spiker away, Akaashi could clearly see the lilies you picked from yesterday, the stems wrapped together with a pink ribbon, in Bokuto’s hands. 

You flipped your hair. “I got it from a reliable source at a steal price! The guy selling them thought I was cute, and gave me a discount~”

“Oho? As expected from the charismatic class rep!”

You crossed your arms. “Now make sure Saki-chan’s gonna like them or I might’ve wasted my charms for nothing.”

Bokuto hollered, fist bumping you. “You won’t be disappointed.”

It was always loud whenever you paid Bokuto visits during morning practice, and it grated on Akaashi’s nerves every time your loud voices intermingled in his ears. But somehow today, your grin didn’t quite reach your eyes, and your laughter sounded a little forced. It was a minimal shift in your usual behavior, but it was enough for him to notice. 

Still, even if was he the only one who saw the bright colored band-aids through your stockings, he knew better than to meddle. 

About a week later, he overheard the two of you talking amongst yourselves in the hallway just outside the gym. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, Akaashi stayed behind the lockers in the corner hallway. 

“She liked them, (Name)! She really did!” He could hear Bokuto jumping about in excitement. 

You laughed. “Best lilies in town, I tell you.”

“Can I…uhm, get some more? I kinda promised that I’d give her some every week. I-I’ll even pay you!”

Silence followed for a while, but then a fit of giggles resounded in the walls. “Bo, you don’t have to. I told you that the seller has a huge crush on me, remember? He might just give me seventy percent off the next time. y’know?”

He huffed. “Alright, fine. Just make sure that guy doesn’t pull any funny moves with you, though! The moment he does anything perverted, tell me right away!”

“Sure thing, Bo! I’ll give it to you Friday morning.” 

After exchanging farewells, Akaashi could hear the double doors to the gym close shut. Footsteps, presumably yours, were getting closer, and he’s in a really compromising position –

“Akaashi?” You furrowed your eyebrows, eyeing his pressed up form on the lockers. You contemplated for a while, and for some reason he didn’t move an inch. “Were you eavesdropping?”

Shit. You noticed. 

He straightened himself out, clearing his throat. “I just did not want to interrupt, (Name)-san.”

You nodded warily, brushing past him without another word. But just as you were about to round another corner, you halted, and looked back at him. 

“Akaashi, would you do me a favor?” 

He slightly craned his head in confusion. “What is it?”

You offered him a sad smile, an expression that he thought he’d never see you make. “Could you…not tell Bo?”

He nodded, not wanting to be part of…whatever this is in the first place. After all, he knew better than to meddle. 

For the next few months, your presence after practice has been a staple every Friday morning. Everyone in the volleyball team has been accustomed to the presence of Bokuto’s best friend right after practice ended. However, the girl he was trying to woo was yet to make an appearance in the gym, which more or less baffled their teammates.

“Saki-chan’s really shy, but I’m helping her get through her social anxiety,” Bokuto smiled to himself. It was a rare sight for Akaashi to see his captain like this, soft spoken and not an owl on steroids. 

Almost everyone in Fukurodani heard of Ishikawa Saki, the third year that attempted to commit suicide on the school’s rooftop. Akaashi remembered the scene vividly. He was right behind Bokuto when he coaxed her out of her suicidal tendencies, after all. 

She was a bashful, but gentle girl. Akaashi would almost call her fragile, but with the way that Bokuto was supporting her now, she’s starting to get back up on her own feet. It was quite a love story, as some of the girls he passed by in the hallways said. Who knew that the loud, outgoing captain of the volleyball team would be the suicidal girl’s saving grace? 

If anything, Akaashi didn’t like to think of it that way. Bokuto didn’t save her. He only helped her to save herself, and maybe he managed to catch some feelings along the way. Akaashi would have approved of their budding union, but…

“Bo~” Your singsong voice rang in his ears. 

When Akaashi spared you a glance, you looked horrible. Of course, you were still the pretty class rep of 3-1 that everyone admired, but there was no doubt of your disheveled state. Your hair was escaping your loose pony tail, your eyes looked tired beyond comprehension, your uniform was unironed, the pleats of your skirt, rumpled (if he looked a little closer it looked damp, even), and you weren’t wearing your stockings. Your legs, which were bandaged all the way up to your thighs, were on full display. 

“What happened to you?” Bokuto ran over to you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders. “Why are your legs bandaged up?”

“Oh, this? This is nothing, Bo! I may have gotten into quite a scuffle with the guy selling these.” You feigned ignorance, handing your usual delivery with an unmatched smile. “He probably got mad that I won’t accept his confession.”

He scowled. “He did what?”

You laughed. “Bo, I was kidding! I got into an accident on my bike and might have fucked up my legs.” You forcibly placed the lilies in his hands. “I’m alright, okay? Stuff like this happens.”

Reluctantly, Bokuto accepted the flowers, twirling the stem in his hands. “If something worse happens to you, I won’t forgive myself, you know? I’m supposed to be your best friend…”

For a split second, Akaashi could see your lip quiver, something akin to despair shadowing your face. But it’s as gone as it came. Instead, you flashed him a small smile. “I know that more than anyone, Bo.” 

At this point, Akaashi was beginning to have second thoughts on his sentiments on meddling.

The next Friday, it was raining heavily. Classes were suspended because of the torrential downpour, but Akaashi’s mother didn’t have qualms with sending her son out in the rain for some errands. Of course, he complied. The market was just beyond the bridge. It wasn’t too bothersome a journey. 

So, he shrugged on a jacket, retrieved an umbrella, and headed out. The sky was so dark, he had a hard time convincing himself that it was only ten in the morning. The raindrops heavily tapped on his umbrella, forcing him to huddle himself under its cover so his clothes wouldn’t get too soaked. 

As he closed in on the bridge, he noticed the river rapidly flowing down the stream. It was always like this during particularly rainy days. The slightest drizzle would make the river wild.

However, at the far end, he could see a familiar backpack sitting idly on the sidewalk. That’s…

Akaashi’s eyes widened when he pieced everything together. He only saw you emerge from under the bridge once all those months ago, but hasn’t seen you again in the area ever since. You insisted for months that you got the flowers from some guy that apparently fancies you, but you had also told Akaashi not to tell Bokuto about what he witnessed that time. 

His discarded his umbrella, as he ran to the railing, craning his head as far as he could for any sign of you. The rain immediately soaked through his hair and clothes. When he was out of luck on this side, he switched to the other side, and –

The moment he saw the form of a girl with dirty bandages on her legs, lying face down on a slightly elevated island in the middle of the harsh stream, Akaashi peeled off his jacket and shirt, and dived in without a second thought. 

The stream was flowing to the direction where your unconscious form was lying, so he didn’t have to propel himself with much effort. When he got to the island, his sneakers almost sunk into the mud. Not paying it any mind, he kneeled down, lifting you up to rest your body against his own. 

“(Name)-san? Can you hear me?” He shouted through the loud rain, but you weren’t responding. He placed the back of his hand against the skin of your neck and it was hot to the touch. How long have you been out here?

He gathered you in his arms, as his eyes darted everywhere in search for a route back to the bridge. The stream was flowing against him now, and it would be hard enough for him to swim back on his own, but he had to get you to safety, too –

“Bo…?” You opened your eyes, but they had a glazed look on them. “Bo…I’ve got it…Y-You can give it to…Saki-chan later…” You lifted a trembling fist up to him, Akaashi took whatever you had in your hand in his. When he unfurled his fingers, he saw a white lily, whose petals were frayed and torn from the time you’ve spent protecting it from the rain. 

Something pierces through his chest, and shatters the composure he’s kept up all this time. It’s something he’s never felt before, but all he could do is cradle your feverish body in silence, as his tears mixed with the raindrops that fell on his face.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice cracked, fingers digging into the skin of your arms. “Why?!”

You already sustained an injury on your legs, you’ve been out here, passed out and running an incredibly high fever for God knows how long, you’ve got new cuts all over your arms, so…why? Why could you still find it in yourself to grin at him like it was nothing? Why do you sacrifice so much, go out of your way all the time, risk your own precious life…for the sake of his stupid, stupid captain, who was oblivious to your feelings for him? 

Still shaking, from the rain or from the fever, or from both, you raised your hand to cup Akaashi’s cheek. What were you seeing right now? He was curious, but for now, he’d tend to your fantasies for your sake. 

“It’s…‘cause I want you…to be happy.” A single tear rolled down your cheek. “I…love you, Bo.”

It took a while before you could go back to school, given your multiple injuries and the fact that you almost drowned in pursuit of the lilies you always gave to Bokuto. But that’s not what you told the school. You informed them that the injuries in your legs simply worsened and you had to be observed in the hospital at an indefinite amount of time. 

Akaashi was the only one who knew of what truly transpired. He was the one he brought you to the hospital when a few locals spotted the two of you after all. However, when your family arrived and thanked him ceaselessly for having saved your life, he took his leave. His presence wasn’t necessary, anyway. Or maybe he just couldn’t stomach the sight of you in your hospital bed, knowing that he could have prevented this all from happening should he have taken action earlier. He noticed everything, yet did nothing about it…

Bokuto was concerned, of course, but his head was too wrapped up in the fact that they were competing for the Spring High Nationals the following Monday after the incident, that he couldn’t bring himself to at least contact you about it.

However, when you did come back to school on the first Friday of December, you didn’t show up to their morning practice anymore. Akaashi should have gotten used to it by now, given that you were absent for at least two Fridays already. But when you texted him about your return today (you exchanged phone numbers at some point), he half-expected you to be up and running with some stupid white lilies in your hands, giving them to his dumbass captain to treat his girlfriend while being in the dark with everything you’ve been through thus far. 

If he was being honest with himself, he hated his captain right now. Akaashi, of all people, was expected to be the one who’d understand all of Bokuto’s behaviors and mannerisms the most, but witnessing firsthand what you went through, the thought of you sacrificing everything for the sake of his happiness… How could he be so God damn oblivious to all of it?

But then, before he let his blind rage consume him, Akaashi got a text message from you. 

meet me at the rooftop in five?

The cold air seeped through his clothes when Akaashi opened the door to the rooftop. Winter really has settled in in Tokyo. Rubbing his arms as a pathetic attempt of getting warm, he darted his eyes around for any sign of you, and saw your lonesome form standing by the metal fence. He made his way towards you.

“Hey,” you spoke without facing him, fingers gripping the fence. “Did you know that these were put up here after the incident with Saki-chan? It was to guarantee that no one was gonna pull any stunts like that here anymore.”

Akaashi nodded, gazing out at the view of the city. “Yes, I am aware.”

You hummed, and stood there in silence for a good while. Akaashi suddenly recalled that fateful day from what now seemed like a long time ago. The rain pelting his bare back, the smell of the soaked Earth under his knees, the constricting sensation in his throat, and the glassy look in your eyes, that suggested that you weren’t thinking clearly at the time. When he asked you if you remembered that you thought he was Bokuto, you drew no memory of it. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad or not.

“Akaashi, why’d you save me?” 

Ah, but you did remember that he’s the one who actually jumped into the river to save you. 

Akaashi exhaled, averting his gaze as far as he could from you because, frankly, even he didn’t know what drove him to strip his clothes and jump into the stream that day. He’s been doing a great job ignoring everything he took notice of with your strange behavior, minding his own business. Wait… You were dying, for God’s sake! If someone else was in his shoes that time, they would have done the same. It’s only natural that he’d go rescue you. And maybe…maybe he wouldn’t be able to live with himself knowing that he kept turning a blind eye to your suffering. 

A thousand thoughts swirl in his mind, but all he could bring himself to say is, “Because you’re important to Bokuto-san.” 

You laughed, turning to him. “Am I not important to you?”

He raised an eyebrow, making sure his face didn’t betray any discomposure. “Why would you ask me that, (Name)-san?”

You put a finger on your chin. “Hmm… I know you saw through all my lies, you know? I thought it was just a rumor that Fukurodani’s Akaashi Keiji could read the volleyball team’s enemies better than anyone, but to be able to apply that outside of a game?” A grin made its way on your lips. “You really are something, huh?”

“I don’t understand. What am I supposed to make of our conversation?” 

You scratched the back of your head, chuckling. “I don’t know either, actually. I just wanted to thank you properly.” You reached out from behind your back – he didn’t notice you were carrying anything – and handed him a lavender flower with two unfurled petals, like it was just beginning to bloom. Akaashi shot you a confused look, but accepted it, regardless.

“I did my research,” you imparted. “The lilies that I was picking for Bo…they’re referred to as the flower of death. Makes sense why Saki-chan would like them… Okay, bad joke, but yeah.” You mulled over your next words for a moment, cheeks beginning to tinge red. “This is an iris. They symbolize hope, or at least that’s what the internet wanted us to know.”

Akaashi examined the Iris in his hands, then turned to you. “Where’d you get it this time?”

His accusatory tone made you laugh, and this time it sounded genuine. “Oh, you think I jumped under a bridge to grab these again? Nah. I got it from the flower market downtown. The guy selling them probably likes me. Gave it to me for free~”

“Did he, now?” He couldn’t help it. His lips turned up into a small smile. “Why have you decided to give this to me, of all people, (Name)-san?”

“Oh, God, don’t ask me. It’s kinda corny.”

“Pray tell.”

“Fine.” You shifted your gaze back to the city skyline. “It’s ‘cause… You were the one who made me realize that Bo’s not the only guy in the world. In a way, you gave me hope that there’s someone else out there just waiting for me.” 

He contemplated for a moment, letting your words sink in, before saying, “You’re absolutely right. That was corny.”

An irk mark appeared on your head. “Hah? Who knew Akaashi Keiji, aloof second year setter of Fukurodani, could be a wise-ass, too?”

Then and there, Akaashi realized that he’s glad that he didn’t know better than to meddle, in the end.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! headcanons #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #request #anon #hqscenario

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Fifty-Three: A Challenge ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

As much as he might have denied it in his younger years...Sasuke really is a competitive guy. Granted, his ‘rivalry’ with Naruto back then wasn’t much his choice. All Sasuke wanted to do was keep his nose to the grindstone and get as strong as possible, as quickly as possible.

So, imagine his annoyance when he got teamed with a loudmouth showoff and a one-track-minded fangirl. They threatened to hold him back from his goal. The one thing that gave him purpose. He could care less about their shallow infatuations with him. He’d had everything stolen from him. Everything. Wasting a single moment in search of justice for the Uchiha clan massacre was a disrespect to his slaughtered family.

But...in the end, he was stuck with them. Through the genin-level missions, Kakashi’s late-starting training days, and getting dragged out for whatever shenanigans Naruto and Sakura had in mind for that day.

The more time went on...the more Sasuke started to slip. He’d indulge in Naruto’s banter and challenges. Sakura, on the other hand, offered very little. Sure, trying to converse with Naruto was almost constant squabbling and arguing...but Sakura could focus on little else beyond herself, and her crush on Sasuke. She’d even talk down about others to try to bolster his views of her in comparison.

Of course, that only ever did the opposite.

But as the months passed, Sasuke found himself actually measuring himself up to the dead last. In a way, it helped boost his morale to constantly out-perform his teammate.

...at least...until Naruto started catching up.

He couldn’t understand it…! Naruto had no talent! He wasn’t part of a superior clan! Of course, back then, he knew nothing of the Kyūbi junchūriki’s heritage: son of the Yondaime Hokage, and one of the last Uzumaki. All in all, Sasuke had no reason to think Naruto was anything special...except for that strange orange chakra he could see once his Sharingan awoke.

Though part of him was angry due to his inner competitive nature...in reality, it bothered him for a far more serious reason. If someone like Naruto - a half-wit, dead-last nobody - could come anywhere near his level...then that meant he still had far too far to go in regards to his own strength.

In regards to Itachi’s strength.

It was that anger that led to his abandonment of Konoha...a place he realized was coddling him. Inhibiting his growth. If he was ever going to kill Itachi...he needed better methods. Better teachers. No matter the personal cost, he would pay it. So long as Itachi fell dead before he himself succumbed to death...Uchiha Sasuke would be happy.

Of course...his seemingly simple plan went far, far awry as the years passed. New teams, new truths, new lies, and new paths.

And where did it all end up leading?

Right back to Konoha. A place he now had a very...complicated relationship with. On one hand, it was the stage for his clan’s genocide, orchestrated by the very people who led the village. On the other, it was a place Itachi gave his life for: that he still believed to be good at its core.

Naruto and Sakura had tried again and again to drag him back, and as Naruto had put it, “even if he had to break every bone in his body”.

Something a friend would say, wasn’t it? Completely rational, completely respectful of Sasuke’s free will of choice.

But...in the end, he did return. On his own terms, even if the prompt was rather...unexpected. The revival of Uchiha Itachi was a shock to literally everyone but the woman who brought him back. And that was the first stepping stone to Sasuke’s new life. Facing the council, ousting the old regime of Konoha to instead entrust it to his prior teacher, and later prior teammate. Reforming the police, and attempting to clear out Konoha’s shadows from the surface, while Itachi and his ANBU would do so beneath.

As expected, rebuilding relationships was...difficult. Neither side was willing to forgive so easily, to varying degrees.

...except for one.

A Hyūga ally, a fellow left-behind friend by the rest of team seven, someone who’d also lost and regained a brother, and knew the politics of a village and clan rather well.

Hinata.

The path to their acquaintanceship, friendship, and later relationship was rather long, helped along by friends, clans, and work. But what matters now is that Uchiha Sasuke ended up marrying Hyūga Hinata.

And he considers it to be the one good decision he’s made out of the many poor ones that led him to such a path of misery and anguish.

A path he’s left behind.

“Think I can do it?”

“...do what?”

Sasuke nods to the tree in their backyard. It’s Autumn now, leaves falling slowly in the still air. “I bet I can pin a falling leave to the trunk of that tree.”

Seated between her husband’s knees as they lounge, Hinata gives a soft snort. “Of course you can. That’s not even a challenge.”

“What about blindfolded?”

“...I’d rather you not hit something else by accident. What’s gotten into you, anyway?”

“I’m...restless.”

“...want to spar?”

Sasuke considers that. As much as he enjoys training with his wife - and she’s hardly a pushover - there’s still only one person he can truly use all of his strength and force against.

Much to his annoyance.

“...sure. Nothing too heavy.”

“Think I can’t handle it?”

Sasuke gives his wife a look as she stands. “...you know that’s not a fair question, Hinata. For a typical shinobi, you’re exceedingly talented. I’m just…”

“A god among men?” she teases, offering a hand to help him up. “I know, I know...it’s a good thing I’m not a p-proud person, or that would sting.”

“You’re a wonderful kunoichi. And even among the Hyūga you’re a step above the rest. I’ve been made a bit too powerful to be a fair scale for anyone but Naruto. Hagoromo’s interference is hardly typical.”

“Well, I am the Byakugan princess,” Hinata reminds him with a false haughty look. “I’m a descendent of Hamura, remember? You’re just a reincarnation of a sage’s son!”

In spite of himself, Sasuke gives a rather undignified snort. “Is that so?”

“It is!”

“Well I’m also a descendent of Indra’s, the father of the Uchiha clan. I think I can measure up to your lineage,” he retorts with a smirk.

“Is that a challenge, Uchiha?”

“Do you want it to be, Hyūga?”

The pair step up to each other, Hinata looking up defiantly as Sasuke stares down coolly. For added effect, they even let their kekkei genkai flare to life, white staring up into red and purple. They manage to hold their gazes for a long moment before breaking out into laughter.

“So ridiculous,” Hinata says between breaths, wiping at her eyes as they return to their typical state. “I can’t say things like that seriously...it sounds so p-pretentious!”

Still chuckling, Sasuke waves a hand before fitting his hitai-ate back over his Rinnegan. “You did pretty well, I think. Next time someone gives you trouble, just start spouting off about your Ōtsutsuki heritage. They’ll wet themselves and run in terror.”

“In all honesty, I hate being linked to that...woman. I can’t believe she almost destroyed our world…”

“Not with me around.”

“Mm, no,” Hinata agrees, giving him a small smile. “Not even rabbit goddesses stands a chance when pitted against you, hm?”

“Hardly a threat.”

“...so, still want that spar?” Hinata then asks, “Or did we ruin the moment with our theatrics?”

“Mm…” Humming thoughtfully, Sasuke lets a smirk overtake his face. “As tempting as that is, you were giving me other ideas, staring at me with your Byakugan like that.”

“W...what?”

A soft laugh escapes him as she stutters, going a light shade of pink. “I think I like it when you get so serious like that. You’ve never looked at me with your kekkei genkai like that before. And that look in your eyes…”

Blinking, Hinata slowly blooms red. “I...b-but…?”

“...of course, now that edge is completely gone,” he teases, gesturing to her now-flustered expression. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you get that...domineering in other scenarios.”

For a long moment Hinata is silent, glancing aside as she mulls that over. Sure, she’s not a blushing maiden anymore - hasn’t been for a while now since marrying him. But that doesn’t mean her inner prude doesn’t still emerge at times.

...still…

Fiddling with his sleeves, Sasuke looks up as Hinata steps up again. Her Byakugan fill with chakra, staring up at him as a hand takes his shirt front, dragging him down to her level.

...oh. Whoa.

“Is that another challenge I hear…?” she asks, tone soft but laced with an edge. “Have I found a weakness in the mighty Uchiha Sasuke…?”

...okay, he’s all sorts of confused. He was mostly teasing her before, but uh...this is actually getting his heart to race a bit, seeing those eyes staring right through him and hearing her talk like that.

...oh.

“...I think you and I know you’ve been a weakness of mine for quite some time now.”

A wry smile curls her lips. “Then maybe I can handle it, hm…?”

“...let’s find out, shall we?”

                                                          .oOo.

     This...isn't QUITE what I envisioned? But to be fair, I am running on basically no sleep, so uh...I'm not at my best :'D Yayjawpain.      ANYWAY, this is a LITTLE borderline ooc for my interpretation of Hinata. While she DOES have a sense of humor, and CAN be a little risque...she's still rather conservative in a lot of ways. She can get down and dirty with her hubby, sure...but stuff like this is pushing it, lol      (Also for anyone wondering (since I HAVE been asked about it in the past), I highly doubt there will ever be nsfw content in this challenge. It's just a bit of a...personal line that's difficult for me to cross ^^; Hence cutting it off at the innuendo...sorry OTL)      ANYWAY, I'm...obviously very tired, so I need to head off for the night. Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ] #365daysofsasuhina