#i do have em blocked i run across their blogs sometimes when i see other people reblog em

[helahades]

the sexiest wip list

alright! reminder that this is a dark fic blog. dark fics are not just noncon, but uncomfortable subject matter and questionable thought processes and unreliable povs. control your media experience and read warnings carefully! they’ll be updated when the actual story releases, but these are wips, and i don’t know them all bc I simply have not finished these stories!

some darker warnings on this list include: threats of sexual violence, obsession, death, and previously mentioned unreliable povs from obsessive characters who justify themselves.

final reminder to read warnings! some of these are intense.

1) Jealous Thor (Untitled)

warnings: cheating, mean!reader, angst

You’re falling for Steve right under his nose. Each day, Thor feels you pull farther away. Each night, he squeezes his eyes shut as you lie asleep next to him, and tries to forget the way you lookat Steve these days with hunger and adoration that you once gave to him.

“He is earthly. For all his body’s and mind’s possession of unnatural experimental growth, he is earthly and limited, so Thor can’t understand why you’re drawing away from him, and telling Steve the jokes, giving Steve all the looks that had him hooked. The lingering eyes and touches… they ride the line of decency.”

—

2) Heimdall Angst (Untitled)

warnings: major character death, grief, existentialism, out of body experiences

Connected by incredible wisdom and duty to fate, you and The Gatekeeper of Asgard are pulled together by the unique pairing of your mutual seeing abilities—made for greatness, and destined for tragedy.

This story stretches from the moment that catalyzes your meeting, across the years of loving him, to the moment you lose him.

“A fateful tragedy. He sees an arrow through a dove.

He wonders how he missed your encounter with him in the whispers of the cosmos.

“—They’re star deaths,” you say abruptly, “the ones that move and change color. They speed up when you watch them—show their whole life to come...I read about them. Most can’t ever see them life this”.

Turning to where you stand beside him, his eyes swirl with the magic of knowing you, of your destinies combined. He sees you stare at his stars like they’re new.

“Only us.”

—

3) Away from the Party - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, dubcon, roughness, manipulation, unintentional exhibition

Steve hates these parties. After a mission, the work has just begun, and he fumes at the impossible way that Tony covers all problems in diamonds and pearls. Some things aren’t meant to be pretty.

You are. You’re soft, and kind, and you coax him gently away from the party—the source of his frustrations, with promises of leaving early, of calming down. Oh. He’ll calm down. And you’re just the toy to help. In a closet a corner away from the government’s finest, America’s golden boy has a hand on your throat and one demand.

“Keep quiet.”

“Of course, you both ended up at the party anyway, but with you swirling cool fingertips at his aching temples and rubbing softly over the stretch marks on his chest, he couldn’t find anything in heart to disagree with you then.

Even now with his erection pressed to you through barriers of clothing, with scarcely retrained and monstrous lust, he is steadily calmed by your presence. This rush, the secrecy—it excites him. And you pull him through the haze of it.”

—

4) Monster Thor Headcanons

warnings: wound and gore descriptions, some sadness

The fantasy of it all. Aesthetic, Lifestyle, Behavior. Some talking points include: hair, horns, hints about how he was influenced by a soft and charming lover many years ago, general horniness. Also spoiler that I’ve decided that He is 8ft tall

“Thor is...ancient. he is a being of war and folklore and raw energy and he’s earthy and elemental and connected. and form follows function. (and also whatever horny thoughts we want )”

—

5) The Call

warnings: voyeurism, death threats, obsession, implied sexual assault threats

When Frank comes to visit you, you beam like a sunflower. You’ve rearranged your room, and you’re excited about it. He would like to revel in the moment with you...but he’s caught up in one detail. Your bed is pushed against the window...and he can’t convince you to let him move it.

After a night of sin and wild lovemaking, you lie asleep bathed in moonlight, and Frank wakes to a call. Billy. He’s set up on a rooftop miles away, and he’s got things to say about Frank’s girl and what he’d like to do to her. A red dot on his chest means he can only listen. To your gentle snoring, and to the twisted fantasy of a brother unhinged.

“Black silk pajamas. Hair wrapped up in satin. Yellow light almost like sun stretches to the ceiling, but not quite over the rolling hills of your silhouette turned away from him in quiet sleep.

Frank’s hardly got the time to wonder why he’s awake, because his phone buzzes slow again. Pulls the moment he realizes he will have to break this magic peace to molasses and he half fills his lungs before huffing it out and flipping the phone open and tucked between his ear and shoulder.

“What.”

“She’s a reaaaaal pretty one, Frankie boy. You sure know how to pick em.”

—

6) Loki Longing (Untitled)

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, angst

On the Eve of the birth of Asgard’s heir, Thor is away. In a bath of flowers and magic to ease your pain, maidens worry over you, and Loki rescues you away, letting you rest in bed, and dreaming of the days when you were his lover instead.

“I’d like to rest…in my bed now, please.”

The ladies look to each other. It hasn’t been long enough for the herbs to take effect.

“My Queen,” the eldest starts—

“She is certainly your queen,” a silky silver timbre interrupts, “I’ve learned it’s best to mind her.”

His eyes fall to your form, and some blocked conflict—some guarded affection rests there. Some longing tucked in a pocket like an impossible secret.

—

7) With Child - Obsessive Steve

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, obsessive Steve

Watching you content, and very pregnant, as you gaze adoringly at your husband Thor from where you rest, half in his lap, Steve can’t help but fantasize. He thinks about impregnating you, the mechanics of sex with a pregnant woman, and being the god who does it all.

“Do you have to lie on your side? Is Thor just behind you, spooning you, fucking with desperate thrusts because you drive him so crazy this way? Steve has heard—and he doesn’t know where—that women get wetter when with child. Steve can’t help but wonder...does Thor need to hold one leg up for you—to save your back that’s so often heavy with the weight of supporting his legacy?”

—

8) Dean’s Girl

warnings: unreliable pov (john), voyeurism, masturbation + voyeurism

John notices the way you avoid him. You always seem to leave a room just as he’s coming into it. He’s living in the bunker now, and having to realize a lot of things that have changed for the both of his sons.

For example, his oldest, the last he’d ever think would fall in love, has got a pretty girl that dismisses her practical father in law with pointed boredom. She’s protective—how can he blame her after all that he’d put Dean through?

She’s pretty, and John is only a man, and can’t stop himself from just...looking. It starts with a convenient bend as she unloads the dishwasher...then he..can’t help that the door was open and she happened to be changing right there. He also can’t help it the next time when he’s just a little too obvious, pleasuring himself to the smell of her pretty lace panties.

—

9) Operator, Operator - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, financial troubles?, mentions of creepiness against and danger to sex workers, exhibitionism via phone call

Underpaid and overworked, you along with your roommate/secret crush/ best friend Steve have trouble making ends meet on minimum wage + his art commissions. When you start picking up calls on a phone sex line, he’s able to reason. It’s quick cash, and Steve is mature enough to keep his thoughts appropriate...at first.

One day, he wakes to the sound of breathy moans and a faked orgasms. He wonders how you would sound if only you were high on real pleasure...and there’s no time like the present. Don’t hang up. This call has only just started.

“By the time this year—junior year—swung around, Steve realized he was only catching glimpses of you. He would hear the shake of your keys when you tossed them on the counter, your backpack when it thudded to the floor, and most recently—your moans.

You must not know he’s home. Ever since you started online sex work, specifically being a phone sex operator, you seemed to also make the silent choice that more graphic calls would be saved for when he’s not around.

He gets it. You both split the rent, and Steve has done jobs he’d rather not mention in desperate times, when commissions came short. Still, sometimes you can’t tell when he’s here, and despite his best efforts to push down his arousal, to tell himself you’re his best friend...he’s an artist, and he can’t help but listen, and certainly not the wandering of his imagination.”

—

10) Professor Steve Medfet - (Untitled)

In an alternate timeline, a washed up Steve Rogers starts a new life in a run down city as an art / anatomy teacher. A class of hungry college students is filled to the brim each year, expecting the unspoken promise of their favorite hands on lab. You.

You keep his class sated, in turn giving the professor job security for funding his simple life out of the public eye. Each year when he calls, you come. Each year the students find a new way to tear you embarrass and degrade, much to the pleasure of the professor.

“Same speech. Same meaningless words. Focusing on the stillness of your skin and how it feels to be alone, you can almost drown out the way his tone edges toward excitement, the way the chairs shift and squeak—the anticipation.

Pretending your heart doesn’t send heat and cold flashes through you and run your breathing shallow, you look at the nicks in the door and try to guess their stories.

But then the metal frame clicks, the door unlatches. Professor Rogers wears a gentle smirk. It doesn’t ease your mind one bit.”

—

11) Swelter - Forest God Thor

warnings: sexual scenes, time limited conflict, religious themes

With a sickness overtaking nearby villages, yours is next, and has decided to sacrifice you to the cause of foraging for preventative herbs. You venture into the ancient woods after a rare vine of flowers, but leave with much more after encountering Thor.

After disturbing him where he lies cooling in the bank of a stream, you vow to prove the true intention of your soul—that you aren’t a hunter, or witch after his form or faculty, but a pious girl, also needing to escape the heat.

“You’re in the old woods now, and aside from the trees and the mossy nature tangled around them, there is only Him. Thor.

God of the harvest, bringer of land’s wealth, fertility, and vitality. You know of the sacrifices, of the woods where He is rumored to live in an unseen form, of livid white fire in the sky if He is severely displeased.

His name must not be spoken outside of prayer or ritual, and even now, you stutter to think it, and wonder if you are alone in your thoughts.”

[...]

“The frustration and the fear in your dilemma disturb the air, disquieting the otherwise enduring peace of the old woods, which rouses a large form in the cool muddy bank of the stream. It is only leaves shifting at first. Faded pumpkin and dried oak scatter—and suddenly the air smells like rain and your mouth sets around the tastes of copper and sage. Then, the leaves tumble off of a beast of a mass that rises slowly, and you note that it felt like the atmosphere changed to accommodate its awakening.”

—

12) Halloween Party - Thor Smut (Untitled)

warnings: smut, heartbreak, depressed!reader

An exclusive and mysterious Halloween party is still on this year—and you’re invited. It’s meant to be so extravagant and flashy an Avenger will one day attend, and all attendees decorate themselves in costumes inspired by the heroes, hoping to be noticed.

Fresh after a breakup with your boyfriend Brock, you take one half of the preordered couples costume and dress up as a goddess, determined to have a good night with your friends, find some excitement, and most importantly, a new god to match.

“Standing solemn, floor to ceiling windows allow in a few milky rays reflected by the moon, but they’re all the gems of your bodice need to gleam to a suitor's eye. Tonight, while you plan to rid your soul of another, you are welcomed with open arms and careful consideration as the final offering at an altar. You are seen by a god.”

—

13) Grief

warnings: dead!reader, guilt, grief, scary science, how do i say this... smut that is borderline necroph—there’s a replica of you, dark!steve, tony lives, pepper dies

Steve’s world is upside down. He’s lost the light of his life, and is completely in the dark. Luckily for him, Tony is back in the business of reality rejecting technology, and has found a way for him to be with you again.

At an abandoned cottage, Steve brings an armful of your scents to give the Tony’s invention sensory data, and faces the strange reality of what’s always been his worst stage...his worst trait. Denial.

“Dozens of test bottles full of manufactured scents, the kind of thing you smell borrowing a sweater, or with your face in the crook of someone’s neck. Essentially, the sort of organic thing that cannot be recaptured.

Steve’s got an armful of perfume and body wash. Of conditioner and deodorant, of all the elements he can think that make you smell the way you would—the way you do.

He wills the thoughts to be present tense. If he pretends you are alive, maybe it will look like it is you only sleeping. He wonders how well Tony knows the texture of your hair suddenly, because if it isn’t right, the experience will fall to shambles. It currently walks a plank over shambles. One wrong interpretation or surprise, and Steve will find himself spinning and burning with the fall into a new and uncharted taboo.”

14) Night Drive - Dean Smut

warnings: road head

On a long overnight drive, your back pressed into the seat of the impala makes you miss lying in bed with your lover, makes you miss his gentle caress right next to you...so you remind him how good it is to be close.

“You think about it when he hums a little tune. When he hums the song he wishes would play and thinks will come up next, it is eerily soft, and eerily similar to the soft contentment he sighs when you kiss on his neck.

When he reaches for your hand to hold, it makes you consider the shortness of the distance between you, and you think of pulling his cock out right here, giving him head that melts him here on this endless road.

Looking at him, he senses your interest—he turns his head to meet your eyes, throws up a grin of boyish charm. He’s happy to be here with you. These night drives are fine. He’s never minded them. But they’re even lovelier when in your company.”

—

15) Shadow - The Bucky Mystery

warnings: stalking, injury, sexual assault, canon typical hydra torture, mentions of bucky being forced to assault people, traumatized reader

On the run from Hydra, there aren’t many things that Bucky can remember. Inside his mind, there aren’t many feelings that make sense. Mostly, he feels guilt. Horror.

Following you to the gym where you practice ballet alone in the nights is all that makes sense, and for reasons he can’t explain, he feels drawn to you.

As time goes on, Bucky feels more enticed by his desire, you start to feel eyes staring from the walls, motivations and traumas are revealed, and in a horrible symphony, you both remember your connection.

“He’s a matte shadow against the noir shine of metal walls—an observer in the unlit quiet on his side of the room.

And he feels his unimportance. It’s humbling. Holds up the room like chunky beams and high rafters, dressed in the same layered neutrals. Framing the same cotton candy dancer, silent as the pad of her slippers when she turns her weight onto a straight leg, other coming up with her ankle pointed to the bend of her knee.

She spins, she spins and she whips her head around with each one, but it’s Bucky who gets dizzy.”

send an ask with any questions, or for more details about a particular story!

[turtle-steverogers]

WTF is Cats About?

ralbert and cats the musical :)

warnings: none, cept cats the musical (if ur a cats stan, i swear im not making fun of it,,,,just,,,,,cats)

ship: ralbert

word count: 1577

editing: no lmao...CATS

-

Albert likes to think he’s gotten used to all of Race’s funny quirks and little habits.  He’d long since given up on getting him to stop biting his nails and the whole twirling his hair while he relaxes thing is pretty endearing.  But there are some things that still surprise him.  

Like his utterly amazing habit of withholding big life changes until they’re glaringly important and then announcing them as if he’s commenting on the weather.

Which is why Albert basically spits his tea all over his laptop one morning when Race announces he’s been cast in the fucking Broadway revival of Cats.

Fucking Cats.

Albert doesn’t even know what Cats is about.  Not that he’s ever really had the desire to know.  The whole show is a little too...furry for him.

It had been a mild Sunday morning up until then.  The sky was clear and blue and the sun rays hit just right on their bed, waking them up, but not disturbing them.  They’d lounged around for a few hours, switching between lazy morning cuddles and tiredly making out.  Life since moving to the City together had been exhilarating.  The freedom they’d once yearned for so heavily was finally at their fingertips, lending them the time to focus on their dreams and basking in the post college glow of their early adulthood.

Race worked at the local pizza joint when he wasn’t auditioning for whatever he could find casting calls for (which apparently included fucking Cats the fucking musical).  It was a good gig for him; it kept him busy and entertained.  Something Albert struggled to do single-handedly.

Albert on the other hand worked at a dingy mechanics shop a few blocks away, fixing up old cars on the side while working his way through the prestigious culinary grad program he’d somehow managed to get into.  All in all, they were doing well for themselves as 24 year olds living alone in New York City.

Somehow, they’d managed to drag themselves out of bed and into the kitchen, where Albert fixed them a modest breakfast of omelettes before docking at the counter to sort through some emails.  

Race was sitting next to him, absentmindedly petting Chips, their orange tabby, when he states, “I got cast in the Broadway revival of Cats.”

Albert pauses mid-type, glancing up at his boyfriend, who’s still intently looking at Chips, running his hand down the length of his back, “You what!?”

Race takes a deep breath, then repeats, “I got cast in the Broadway revival of Cats.”

Albert’s been rendered speechless by Race plenty of times in his 6+ years of knowing him.  But he’s never felt quite as...dumbfounded before.

“You got cast...in Cats?” He asks slowly, before shaking his head and backing up, “Wait, no, hang on, hang on...you auditioned for fucking Cats?”

Race ducks his head, a blush forming under his collar and around his ears, “Uh, yeah, I meant to mention it...but it never came up?”

Albert blinks again, “Who- what- what even is Cats?”

Race goes to answer, then closes his mouth hastily, “I don’t...actually really know…”

“How don’t you know?  You’re in the damn show!”

“I was only just cast!  I don’t know it that well yet!”

Albert makes a choked noise, “Okay, but you should at least know what the fuck the show is about if you went through a damn audition process- wait, when was this even happening? What- I’m so confused right now...my fucking boyfriend got cast in a Broadway musical- FUCKING CATS- and I didn’t even know he was auditioning.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” Race says, looking alarmed at Albert’s impending Cats- induced mental breakdown.  Chips gives an annoyed meow at the lack of attention being bestowed onto her and leaps off the counter, trotting away to find Queso, their golden doodle.

“I mean, you’re not entitled to tell me everything about your life, just...wow, I mean, this is big,” Albert scrubs a hand down his face, “I didn’t do anything to make you feel like you couldn’t share this with me, did I?”

Race’s face softens, “No, of course not, Albie,” he sighs, reaching across the table and linking their hands together, “I just got caught up in everything...sometimes things just feel so busy and overwhelming and I like to process it alone before letting other people in on it.”

Albert squeezes his hand, “That’s understandable,” he smiles, bending down to kiss his knuckles, “And congrats! I’m so proud of you! I mean, fucking Broadway...my boyfriend’s gonna be on Broadway.”

Race beams, “Thanks.”

“We have to celebrate,” Albert concludes, “I’m calling Spot and the others.  You better not have work tonight, ‘cause we’re going out for drinks.”

Race shakes his head, bemused, as Albert pulls out his phone to text their group chat.  

“Fucking Cats…” Albert murmurs as he sends the text, “Fuckin’....Cats.”

XXX

“Can you say that your bite is worse than your bark?  Are you cock of the walk when you’re walking alone?  Because jellicles are and jellicles do, jellicles do and jellicles would, jellicles would and…”

Albert freezes in the doorway to their apartment, slowly closing the door behind him as he strains his ears.  He follows the sound of the weirdly tempoed music to the kitchen, where Race is bopping around by the microwave, reheating last night’s dinner of chicken curry.

“Hey,” Albert calls, setting the groceries on the counter.

Race glances over, flashing Albert a smile and turning down the music a few notches.

“Hey, yourself,” he says, pulling his bowl out of the microwave and stirring it a bit with a fork to cool it down.

Albert crosses to him, pecking him on the lips quickly and grabbing a glass for water.

“Jellicles can and jellicles do, jellicles can and jellicles do…”

Albert wrinkles his nose, “the fuck even is a jellicle?”

Race shrugs, shoveling a forkful of curry into his mouth, “Dunno, some type of cat?  Google it.”

Albert hums, “So this is Cats then?  Interesting music.”

“I know, it’s kinda weird,” Race says, perching at the counter, “But it grows on you.  Rehearsal started today, so…”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Albert places his glass in the sink and leans against the counter, “How’d it go?”

“Pretty well, I made a few friends,” Race says, “Jojo’s in it.”

Albert smiles, “No kidding! That’s crazy.”

“Right?  I didn’t even know he was auditioning!”

“Seems to be the trend with this show.”

“I get it, I get it,” Race rolls his eyes, looking a little guilty.

“Jellicle songs for jellicle cats, jellicle songs for jellicle cats, jellicle songs for jellicle…”

“If they say ‘jellicle’ one more time I’m going to shoot myself,” Albert growls.

Race whips his head up, eyes slightly wide, “Oh, honey, you are not going to make it through this one…”

“Fantastic.”

XXX

“Hey, Race, have you seen my- WHAT THE FUCK!”

Race turns away from the bathroom mirror, fixing Albert with an innocent look.

“Have I seen your what?” He asks.

“No,” Albert says, pointing a finger, “First answer what the FUCK happened to your face.”

Race turns back to the mirror, dabbing some more orange cream foundation around his eyes.  Disturbingly, Albert notes that his makeup design looks very similar to Chips.

“Gotta do our own makeup for the show,” Race answers, padding a generous amount of setting powder around his face, “I’m practising.”

“Right…” Albert rakes his eyes over Race’s features.  So far, the makeup only spans on his face and down his neck a little, “What else does your costume entail exactly?”

Race grins wickedly and Albert swallows.  

“Oh, you’ll see.”

XXX

“Do you like my tail?”

Albert slowly closes his book, praying for strength as he looks up.  Race is standing by the doorway, rehearsal bag dropped at his feet.  His face is smudged- like he tried and failed to clean off all the layers of his meticulous cat makeup.  He’s dressed normally in adidas workout pants and a random t-shirt from a color run they did years back.  Protruding (Albert doesn’t wanna know how, but alas) from his backside is an orange tabby cat tail.

“Did you choose to be the same kind of cat as Chips?  Or was it some sort of creepy coincidence,” Albert deadpans, refusing to look at the tail longer than he has to and keeping his eyes fixed on Race’s face.

Race’s smile drops a fraction of an inch, “Wait, it’s weird that I chose to be her breed?”

Albert groans and picks back up his book.

XXX

“Congratulations!” 

Albert is met with a faceful of Race’s blond curls as the cast comes swarming out of the stagedoor.  He smells like makeup remover and sweat, but Albert doesn’t care as he kisses him, pride swelling in his chest.  

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the exhilarating feeling of seeing Race shine onstage.

“Thanks!” Race looks high on adrenaline and Albert never wants that light to leave his eyes, “What did you think?”

“You were so good!  Everyone was!  And the music was all better than I first thought it would be,” Albert said, playfully swaying them back and forth where they stood, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Race, “Just one question.”

Race cocks his head, “what’s up?”

“What the fuck is Cats about?”

Race tips his head back and laughs, “I still have no fucking clue.”

-

the word ‘cats’ doesn’t even sound real anymore and i think that’s fitting

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[askyancy]

A Guide To Tags

OOC: Hey folks! Mun here!  I’ve had a couple folks asking what tags I use and why so here’s a lil run down!  #;’answered - personal use all my answers get put here. For folks who wanna block all asks this is how. you may find that some of my other ask blogs use this too

#ask yancy - blog name. This is my personal tag for yancy so if you post anything related to this blog thats the one you should use for it to be in the same search!

#anonymous - again for blocking purposes and to show this is from an anon

#“name” anon - specific anonymous askers have certain names so we tag with their lil anon name

#usernames - to tag the person who sent the ask and let them know that its been answered

#yangst - not everyone wants to see our precious baby hurt or sad or lonely so any yangsty things get put in here

#happy trails shenanigans - As you may have noticed there is some underlaying story going on with dear ole Yancy here. anything relating to that gets put in here

#the warden - if the Warden is speaking itll have this tag, same with any other character that happens across Yancys account. He’s not exactly good at keeping it a secret 

untagged posts - occasionally you might find an old ask that has yet to have any tags on it. Likely this was answered from my ipad in an attempt to stay on top of the asks (it mounts up if i leave it) but tumblr likes to duplicate the answer if i try to add tags on ipad. its weird and broken so i just leave em and do it when i get to my laptop

#blushing yancy - its rare! if you get that tag you succeeded! 

New tag - Sometimes if its something odd or offbeat from the usual it may have a new tag just for safety

#gore - may contain gorey material . This is MY definition of gorey. Things like a busted lip or a cut in the shoulder to me isnt gorey. Heavy damage or more is considered gore. So if the heavier stuff aint your cup of tea be warned

#tw --- - TW = Trigger Warning. This may be followed with things like drug mentions, depression, etc it may contain material that could be potentially triggering. Now while I generally avoid this kind of stuff, this IS a prison and for the sake of realism it may or may not pop up at some point. Obviously I’ll try to avoid it but I may slap one on just to be safe. By all means block the TW tags if you need too. 

#ooc - Out of character responses or answers, these are answered by the mun and not by yancys and usually come accompanied with #mun speaks or #ooc post

I think thats all of em? You may see other ones pop up but hey. Hope it helps!

[fictioninmyblood]

Protector of Her Heart

Chapter Three

Note: I am new to writing fanfic (this is my first one). I welcome constructive criticism as well as pointers and tips for bettering my blog. Thank you for reading :)

Summary: Elinora is an empath’s version of Professor X, only a lot more powerful. She is an enhanced human with the ability to read the world’s emotions. Nick Fury has welcomed her into the fold, but with a fear of herself she has been quite reserved. A forced bonding night with the newly discovered Wakandan royalty brings her out of the shadows of fear and into the light of lust.

Warning: some language, implied smut, 18+

sithandwa sam - my love

umfana wam omncinane - my little warrior

Previous Chapter

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From the moment they walked in, all eyes were on them. I mean when the avengers strut in with Wakandan royalty like they own the place, your eyes have no choice but to be drawn to the group. Even though Nora was terrified, with M’Baku walking with his hand protectively on the small of her back,  she was able to blend in with the group and not trip over her feet. She breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to their private booth on the rooftop.

Shuri made quick work of getting their drinks sent up and urging Nora to take em down. The sooner they got the girl drunk, the sooner she'd loosen up and be more open to dancing.

Tony went to socialize while Natasha and Banner sat in a private corner creating their own bubble. Sam and Steve suckered James into drinking games at the bar. That left Okoye keeping a watchful eye on her King and Queen as Nakia dragged T’Challa to the dance floor. And Shuri was stranded alone with two of the most stubborn people ever, practically begging M’Baku and Nora to get on the dance floor.

“You two were seriously made for each other. How do you go to a club and not dance?” Shuri looked between the two exasperated by their lack of willingness to enjoy the moment.

“Well in my defense, I was half bribed, half threatened into coming. Plus I don't get in a dancing mood until the liquor gets me feeling more mellow and not self conscious.” At that, the waitress sat Nora’s third margarita in front of her. She thanked the girl and started to sip slow knowing that the alcohol was bound to kick in soon.

“And I am here to ensure the Jabari’s place in the future. I do not see how this does that.” M’Baku was not exactly lying, but he also wasn't telling the whole truth. He was concerned that this so called fun left everyone to their own devices, including him. He did not know how to act in this society without some guidance. But what scared him more was that he was alone with his love and didn't know how to dance which would help in his pursuit to woo her.

“Would it kill you to have at least SOME fun? Gah! There's no use, you're basically a wall, now Nora on the other hand should be pliable to my requests by now, yes?” She looked at back at the girl, noticing how she had started to sway to the music indicating that the the alcohol had finally taken affect.

Nora looked up like a deer in headlights and Shuri knew this was the perfect time to get the girl on the dance floor. She grabbed her by both hands pulling her to the dance floor and dancing around her making it clear that the only way out was to join in.

It had been a long while since the last time Nora danced and she truly did miss it. Having been a dancer since she was three, it was usually how she blocked out the world and shook off unwanted emotions. But being on the compound with prying eyes constantly on her made this the first plausible opportunity in almost three months. Laughing at Shuri’s antics and realizing that she did need this, she slowly let loose.

Pulsing to and fro, changing movements with the songs, Nora became the center of attention. It was surprising to say the least, but her group was absolutely shocked. Well everyone except Natasha, since she had watched how she navigated their kitchen.

Nora kept up with the dj, dancing away all of her worries. Several guys tried to keep up but couldn't until the music slowed down allowing one to come up behind her placing his hands on her hips as she swayed.

“You know for a fat girl, you dance like the skinny bitches I usually go for.”

And like that her bubble burst.

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M’Baku had watched her move across the floor gracefully and skillfully. This was just another thing to add to his confused list. How can someone so in tune with their body hate it? She obviously knew what to do and sometimes her movements showed him a glimpse of the warrior she could become. And it all turned him on making it hard to watch her both figuratively and literally. Yet, he could not look away for he wanted to stay under her enticing spell. Having watched her all night, getting a sense of what she looked liked when comfortable and at ease, he immediately knew something was wrong with how she tensed up at whatever the interloper had to say.

At first M’Baku had only mildly wanted to throttle the man when he first made his approach. It angered him to see a strangers hands on his woman but usually Shuri would come dance with the girl effectively cockblocking. That paired with Nora’s dance skills deterred the riff raff. So it was no surprise that M’Baku figured that if this one was anything like the others then he would not last. But Shuri was nowhere to be found and this one was definitely not like the others, he, was stupid.

The moment M’Baku perceived him as a threat  he was by Nora’s side catching the last of what she said.

“... and that is not a compliment.”

“You should be glad I even considered a pig like you!”

M’Baku rose to his full height towering over the boy most would consider a man. “It would be in your best interest to close your filthy mouth before I cut out your tongue.”

Nora pulled on M’Baku trying to get him away from the guy. This was escalating and the guy was too idiotic to sense the danger he had put himself into. Nora knew that M’Baku would crush the man before he let him speak another ill word against her. She had to protect him from himself so she moved in front of his line of sight moving his hands to her waist. Putting her hands on his both sides of his face she made him focus on her.

“Hey, I'm okay. Don't listen to him, he's just an ignorant and entitled boy.”

M’Baku was still looking between her and the idiot in question which was not good. People were staring and the bouncers were headed towards them looking like they were ready to take down her giant. It didn't help that the guy wouldn't shut up, but thankfully Sam, Steve, and James stepped in warning the guy that his tongue was getting him in trouble.

“Is everything okay over here?”... one of the bouncers asked.

Steve stepped in while James sized them up.

“Yes gentlemen, this young man here was just walking away from his deathbed.”

“Doesn't sound too okay Steve, you sure you don't need our help?” the biggest bouncer said. At that her group breathed a sigh of relief, they knew Steve so M’Baku was safe from being kicked out or worse.

Sam and James turned to glare at the guy hoping he now understood how much of a danger zone he was in.

“Naw I'm sure he gets it now, right?” Steve looked pointedly at the guy.

He started to nervously mumble finally realizing that all these big ass guys were on the girl’s side,  “yea, um I don't want no problems.”

Moving around Nora, M’Baku growled, “and you will apologize,” while his face said ‘or else’. He turned slightly to allow the guy to look at her.

“I'm sorry for what I said. It won't happen again.” He scrambled away hoping to try his luck with someone else.

M’Baku, Steve, Sam, James, and the bodyguards then turned to a fuming Nora. Confused at her anger they just gave her a wide berth.

“You meatheads! I could've handled that myself. I do not need ALL of you to protect me. One would have been just fine.” Her embarrassment came out like anger, she was actually grateful they were all there but at this moment she just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Everyone retreated except M’Baku, he could tell that whatever the man said had hit a nerve. Placing his hands on her hips… “Are you okay sithandwa sam?”

She sighed and shook her hair into her face. “Yea, but I need another drink.” Shaking him off she went to the bar ordering a lemon drop martini and a shot of whiskey. Throwing back the shot at the bar and then going back to their booth to sip at the martini she took this time to really look at M’Baku.

“Why did you step in like that? You owe me nothing, I am not your girlfriend. The guys are at least part of the same team as me and the bouncers know Steve, but you? I just met you today.” Figuring out the puzzle of what they were was hard enough without all the liquor currently running through her veins, but she had to know how they were connected.

M’Baku was nervous and displeased with the setting, but he didn't dare take her sudden interest in having a conversation for granted.

“Because you are mine and I always protect what is mine.”

She looked at him bewildered by his comment. Crossing her arms and becoming defensive. “I am not yours buddy. This is America and being in a relationship is not as simple as diverting to caveman tactics.”

M’Baku was amused by her sudden boldness, but he was not going to let her brush him off so easily. Swiftly, he moved into her space causing her to uncross her arms and lean back on them. She had no choice but to look him in the eyes when he furthered his intrusion by getting in her face to the point where they were sharing the same breath. “It does not matter where we are, the answer will still be the same. You. Are. Mine. An instant connection like ours does not bend to the rules of superficial love. I know you are mine in my bones, in my soul. The same goes in reverse, I am just as much yours and I will not allow you to shy away from either fact umfana wam omncinane.”

Looking in his eyes, she realized that all the liquor in the world couldn't drown out their bond. She could feel their desires pulsing as one, intertwining in a way she rarely saw. She could practically taste their impossible connection and it was the most decadent cuisine her palette had ever sampled. Her body was responding in kind to his dominant behavior and it took all she had not to kiss him and let her emotions take control. Brushing past him, effectively moving him back into a regular sitting position, she grabbed her martini and finished it quickly. “Fine, I won't deny it for now, but I'm not sober enough to finish this conversation. Dance with me?”

She stood holding her hand to him while he looked at it skeptically. “I do not know how to dance and you're obviously an expert.”

Grabbing his hand and leaning in to whisper in his ear as seductively as she could manage, “you don't have to do anything except hold on and stay close, I'll do the rest.”

M’Baku didn't know how to respond to her alcohol induced self-confidence so he let her drag him to the dance floor. Turning so that her back was to his front she placed his hands on her hips swaying to the beat. 

Focusing on her was all it took for them to be plunged into their own world, completely shutting everyone else out. It was as if they were one entity instead of two. She turned in his arms locking her arms around his neck making eye contact. 

They stayed like that, eyes locked, swaying, for what seemed like forever. She felt the moment he had decided that he was going to taste her and she let him. In the matter of the second it took for their lips to meet she felt sparks of electricity throughout her body, an intoxicating feeling took hold, and his need to make her his pulsed in her veins. She felt his thoughts and it took her by surprise causing her to pull away and look him in the eyes. Running her hands over his shoulders she gripped the base of his neck pulling him back in for more, drinking from his soul it seemed. It wasn’t until T’Challa cleared his throat rather loudly that they even realized it was time to go.

Out of breath and suddenly extremely embarrassed at her actions, Nora jumped back from M’Baku as if he had burned her. She was right in that thought because the kiss had branded her as his and him as hers. But without the intoxicating pull of their kiss or the foggy mellow feeling of her drinks she reverted back to her shell.

As they moved to the entrance Nora got in the car with Steve, Sam and James ignoring everyone’s stares and looking out the window. M’Baku was extremely hurt that she was back to avoiding all contact and she felt it. His emotions had replaced the worlds, it was as if his emotions amplified and everyone else’s was drowned out, even with the barrier of the vehicles.

When they got back she practically ran into her room stripping down to nothing and burying herself in her covers. She was too exhausted to deal with what she was feeling and prayed that sleep would help her escape.

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M’Baku was struggling to get a grip on his emotions, but it was as if his weren’t the only ones there. It was hard not to strangle T’Challa for ruining their moment, but he was more so angry at Nora’s insistence at ignoring something so powerful. When she ignored him and chose to ride with Steve and the guys it took everything not rip the door off the hinges and demand she look at him again. 

When he got in their car he was grateful to be sitting down because he was hit with wave after wave of emotions that weren’t his. It was Nora, she may have looked cool calm and collected, but internally she was beating herself up. Confusion, self loathing, unworthiness, and underneath it all a fierce longing to be loved. He understood what she felt now, but was confused as to why he was feeling it.

They were behind her car so when he got back she was already in her room. T’Challa came up behind him placing a hand on his shoulder as comfort. M’Baku looked back like a lost puppy, unsure how to proceed.

“Let her go, she needs time to sort out her feelings.”

Going to his own quarters he knew when she was sleep because the events of the day finally caught up and exhaustion took hold. He prayed that she would find her way to him, falling asleep wishing she was in his arms.

Chapter Four

Tags: @skysynclair19 @biglipsandafropicks

[ask-de-writer]

MAD - IRRITATED SCIENCE! : Bizarre Borderland : (1 Part)

MAD IRRITATED SCIENCE!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

2488 words

© 2017 by Glen Ten-Eyck

written 2008

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

TUMBLR EXEMPTION

Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

I read an item in the SCI-NEWS that I personally found amusing.  A lot of people, especially the other Desert Rats like me, would have said, “So?”  For them, they'd be right.  Me, I'm the odd one, the duck that swims in the desert.

The item?  Somebody found and totally documented that the human brain's neurons use electrons to transmit information, which everybody already knew.  The new bit was that the neurons and the so-called white matter, the glial cells, also used protons to carry information.  The positive charge wasn't there just for balancing potentials.

Like I said, odd man out.  I already had a working headset that used passive electrical pickups to read brain activity.  In the past, and the reason that I built it, I used it to locate the speech processing center.  My plan for riches was simply to use the headset to read subvocal thought for controlling a computer or word processor.  Like many great notions, this one ran aground on the reef of reality.  It barely worked at all and was prone to massive errors.  Apparently it couldn't read the necessary brain center finely enough.

I looked over the equipment and began to rewrite my software to take into account the positive charges as information along with the negative ones.  Wow.  Dullsville, according to my few friends out here.  I shut up about my experiments.

Al Martin was a particular thorn all the way through the paw.  After I caught him cutting my gate lock chain to come up “for a friendly visit”, I got a Protective Order put on him to keep him away.  He took to calling me Dr. Freakenstein and making 'hilarious' jokes about creating monsters and EVIL SCIENCE.

Al Martin aside, I kinda like it out here.  The natural silence of wind, bird, coyote howl and such like, combined with the sheer joy of waking to the desert sunrise and watching the day unfold, lets me have both the time and the peace to think.  Sometimes I  tinker with the things that I think about.  Unless Al finds a way to be a nuisance.

The last few months, he's been running a “neighborhood watch” scam.  He got a telescope and started trying to charge folks for keeping an eye on their places.  By a pure coincidence I'm sure (NOT), the places on his watch list get robbed by burglars more often than the ones that he doesn't watch.  He even watches my place, which isn't on his watch list.  Caught him in the act several times.  I have a telescope, too.

Sorry about the digression.  Back to my idea of fun stuff.  The result of looking at both sides of the charge equation was a complete surprise.  Much of the mystery of brain intercommunication simply fell apart.  Most, if not all, of thought was processed as fractal interfaces between “clouds” of positrons clustered about various brain centers.  Still sounds dull, I guess.

Point, set and match occurred when a rat wandered near, under my house.  The sensor setup on my head spotted the interference of ratty's little “mind clouds” at once.  I personally hadn't noticed.  The computer showed me why, too.  My mind was automatically blocking the signal.

It took both concentration and help from the computer to open up to it.  As the little critter moved about, I started to get a feel for it.  If I could feel it, could it respond to me?

That took quite a few tries and failures.  After somewhat over an hour, I got the rat to come out from under the house and sit up on my porch in full view.  He was a dusty gray with  lines of white spots down his back.  His tail was long but fluffy.  Some sort of ground squirrel perhaps.  Not really a rat after all.

Now that I had him in sight, I experimented more freely because I could see how Ratty responded.  I needed the computer for the first few hours while I was learning to use my 'clouds' to influence his 'clouds'.  I kept blocking the signal by old habit.  With some work, I finally got Ratty to stand up and do a little rat-dance on his hind legs.

When I realized that Ratty was hungry from all of my experiments, I gave him a chunk of a peanut butter sandwich.  A few curious little birds landed on my porch rail while Ratty and I were munching.  I tried reaching out with my 'cloud' and encouraged them to hop up close.  More of my sandwich disappeared into little birdie craws.

By the end of several days of practice, I knew that my maximum range was about fifteen feet.  Inside that distance, I could simply execute small vermin like fleas, mites, lice, ticks and flying bugs.  Larger critters were harder but not much.  I didn't harm many of them though, it was more fun to control them and simply send them away. Ratty was the exception, of course.  He was both a kick as a pet and a great little test subject.

Had to wonder, you know, if folks learning to do this sort of thing wasn't the basis of the tales about witchcraft.  Thinking it through a bit more, after destroying a few persistent vermin in my garden, I realized that if this was the foundation of witchcraft, those fears in the general population could be well founded.  It took almost no imagination at all to see how someone with this sort knowledge could be a very real danger to the community at large.  Especially if the general population treated the “witch” badly.  I didn't intend to find out what would happen in a case like that.

I'd just got a pair of deer up close and doing a bit of a step-dance for a big flake of hay when I noticed the dust cloud of a truck barreling along the road from Al's place.  I sent the deer away, cursing Al under my breath.  Bad news only got worse when Al's pickup roared up my drive, scattering gravel as he skidded to a stop.  Al bailed out with a rifle in hand, starting to aim at the retreating deer.

I glared at him.  Al's rifle fell to the dirt from hands gone nerveless.  Wide eyed with anger, he demanded, “Damn you, Art! What did you do to me?”

Not bothering to get up from my seat on the porch steps I replied tartly, “Me?  I'm here on my porch.  You are ten feet away.  From here, it looked like you managed to drop your gun just in time to avoid poaching charges on top of the Felony Trespass and Protective Order violation.”

Frowning in a black faced rage, he flexed his now almost functioning fingers and retorted, “Poaching?  No way!  This is private land so its legal.  No hunting without permission your signs says. Wasn't no time to ask first, so's I was gonna ask after I blasted 'em.  Would'a given me a whole Winter's meat.”

Lips pulled into a tight line I snapped, “Only problem, Al, is I would have said NO.  Those signs allow me to get game from my land.  Desert game is spread thin and I don't share mine.  At least not with you.  I heard from Joe Sanderson how well you share yours.”

Al was looking down at his hands and flexing them.  Still pissed off, he spit out, “Joe had it coming!  Bastard wouldn't pay me for Neighbor Watch.”

I raised one eyebrow and pointed out, “Neither will I.  Looks like your hands are better.  Get into your truck and shove off.  Don't come back, either.”

Al stared to bend over to get his rifle and just kept on going down. He landed in a heap on the scattered gravel of my drive.  “Don't try to take that gun, Al, unless you want to leave here in a hearse.”

Twitching on the ground, Al yelled, “I knew it, you asshole! You've used some sort of evil witchcraft on me.  I'll have the law on you for this!”

I smiled down at him from my vantage point on the steps.  A sensible wolf would have stepped away from that smile.  “One:  Killing Felony Trespassers is legal, and that's what you became when you hauled out that rifle.  Two:  You have a Protective Order that requires you to stay at least a hundred fifty feet from my property line and do nothing to compromise my property, including discharge firearms on or across it.  I can legally kill you for that violation, too.  Three:  Witchcraft IS legal.  Four:  I just sat here and watched you apparently have some sort of seizures.  Five:  I am calling the Sheriff's Office on your Trespass and and Order violations.”

I got on my phone and called the situation in to the County Police. I fixed a sandwich and went back out on the porch to watch Al.  He was staying down.  I knew that he would.

As I started to eat, Ratty popped up from his nest under the house. He did his little rat dance and got his chunk of sandwich.  He settled down by my feet and happily nibbled his bread and cheese.

Al looked on in what I believe was genuine fear.  Trying to point, he exclaimed, “There's the proof!  You are a witch-man!  That's your familiar!”

Amused, I replied, “Ratty?  A familiar?  The worst he could do is nip your nuts while you're down.”

Ratty squeaked firmly.

I laughed, “Right Ratty!  Why should you risk lice and other crawling vermin just to bite Al's privates?”

Ratty expressed his opinion of Al by taking his part of the sandwich and retreating back under the house.  With his tail up to show Al his ass.

Not too much later a deputy arrived.  I greeted him, “Hi, Deputy Mustic.  'Fraid your cousin Al's in a spot of trouble.  Seems to have not only broken the Protective Order, he brought a firearm onto my place.  Trouble is, unless he's faking it, he seems to have some sort of paralytic neurological event.  He's even trying to blame me for it.  Witchcraft, no less.  Can you believe it?”

Deputy Mustic closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “Of Al?  I'd believe near anything.  I gotta call for a backup and let him do this one to be sure that everything's done right.  If I try to do the arrest, Al's lawyer is sure to try for a conflict of interest or some such because we're related.”   The deputy got on his radio and I overheard him giving dispatch a piece of his mind for sending him out to deal with a relative.

Soon both the backup, Deputy Jorgen, and an ambulance were on the scene.  Al was duly informed of his rights and placed under arrest while the ambulance crew verified with a pin that Al really was paralyzed.  Deputy Mustic took me aside, day book out and asked, “Art, why didn't you call the ambulance?  Even if he is my family, we both know that Al is slime.  Still, you should'a called.”

I nodded, while watching Al being loaded into the ambulance to be hauled away, “I would have, Deputy.  Thing is, he pulled that stunt on Sadie Halloway where he faked an injury on her place.  Since she called the ambulance, she wound up getting stuck for near enough a grand.  Al did it because she wouldn't pay into his neighbor watch scam.  I won't pay him either and just figured he was doing the same to me as he did to her.”

Writing in his day book and flipping a page to finish, Deputy Mustic nodded, “I heard about that.  Thought it might be the reason. Needed it clear for the record is all.”

More anxiously, now that he was done being official, he asked, “Any idea what is wrong?  I mean, scum or not, he is family and I'm worried for him.  Believe it or not, the kids like him at reunions. He does slight of hand coin tricks and card stunts really professional.”

I shrugged, “The slight of hand for entertainment is something I'd not have guessed.  Slick as he is at lifting small tools and such, I should have known something like that was behind it.  As for this, no idea at all.  I am sure that it's not sunstroke.  The AC in his truck was on and it works.  I would guess that it might be an oddball stroke of some kind.  Maybe an aneurysm or bleed in the upper spine could do it.  Just a guess, though.

“Al appears to be sure what it is.  I heard him telling both Deputy Jorgen and the paramedics that it's witchcraft.  If it is, I don't think that I'm the one.  Frankly, I hope he's right.  Witchcraft is legal.”

Three days later, Deputy Mustic was back.  It was an unofficial visit.  Looking sad, he said, “Al died in the hospital, last night, 'bout midnight, Art.  The doctors did find what it was but there was nothing that they could do.  Doctor Collins said that it was the fastest growing neurological tumor that she's ever heard of.  It was just near to the top of his spine.  Inoperable.  Al died swearing to everyone there that you cursed him.”

I watched a hawk soar overhead  for a moment before I replied, “Not to speak ill, but if I could have, I would have.  Didn't like him at all.

“You, on the other hand are one of the best.  Never heard a single bad word about you, even from folks you've arrested.”

Deputy Mustic smiled but only slightly, “Thanks for that, Art.  I didn't expect any sympathy for Al but I figured that you'd want to know.”

“Indeed, Deputy.  My condolences to your family.”

As Deputy Mustic drove away, My mind was in high gear.  I liked it out here, but it did get pretty lonely on occasion.  The ease with which I influenced animals and settled Al's hash led to an interesting line of thought.

The next time that I was in town, I spotted a pretty young lady. Checking her out by 'feel' I found that she was not only available, she didn't like being tied to one guy.  She enjoyed having a variety of lovers.

All that I planted was the urge to drive out my way.  The weekend was fun for both of us.  Besides bed, Sally hiked around the hills with me and even liked watching a hawk or buzzard fly.  We took a bunch of pictures of her around my house and up in the rocks and hills.  Nice cheesecake, barely risque.  Good memories.

It turned out that Sally knew a fair number of other like minded friends.  After she introduced me to her buddies, neither my days or nights stayed lonely.

---The End---

[auburnfamilynews]

A much belated review

     War Eagle, everybody! It’s time now for the Acid Reign Report on Auburn’s 2019 A-Day game. For the first time in a decade, I was not able to attend. Real life intervenes, sometimes. Watching the game televised wasn’t as fun, frankly. I’m kinda spoiled, in that I usually line up early, get a good seat, and can watch any facet of the game I want. On the televised version, we sometimes got a look at the whole field and the secondary, but often not. The TV crew also obscured a fair number of plays with unrelated Auburn interviews with celebrities. In the second half, the clock never stopped, and TV did commercial breaks anyway, with plays ongoing.

     At least in the first half it was a night-and-day difference for the offense compared to last season’s spring game. Most surprising was how effective junior quarterback Malik Willis looked, running the second team offense against the ones on the first drive of the game. Willis made smart throws to move the chains and then hit a big bomb to Matthew Hill to get the only TD of the day for the reserves. Frankly, I saw 4 quarterbacks on this day that I think Auburn can win with. I left A-Day last year convinced that we had to keep Jarrett Stidham healthy or we would finish last in the division.

     It was a decent day for the Auburn defense, which mostly squashed the running game. There was literally nowhere to run for either group of running backs in the first half. Quarterbacks were a different story. The base defense that was run did not account for quarterback runs, and whistles on the quarterback seemed much slower than last year. Both Joey Gatewood and Bo Nix ran 10+ yards for first downs on occasion before they were blown dead. Honestly, the Auburn defense looked like it had never seen a quarterback pull the ball and keep it on the zone-read. It’s a little worrisome since virtually every Auburn opponent next fall is going to have a quarterback that is not afraid to pull it, put his head down, and run around or through defenders.

     Auburn had big issues that cost games on the sidelines with the secondary last season. I think one starter, Noah Igbinoghene, did a better job this spring getting his head around on deep balls. And Noah didn’t get very many snaps in this game nor did co-starter Javaris Davis, who might have the best eyes on the field, in the Auburn secondary. Reserves struggled at times in the first half, as a lot of deep balls clicked for big gains. That said, Auburn quarterbacks had time to throw it, thanks partly to improved offensive line play and the fact that the defense rarely blitzed. Even if there was a blitz, it was only a 5-man rush.

     Punting wasn’t live, but I thought incumbent Aaron Siposs had a great day. He is good for a 50-yard punt in the open field and consistently parked the ball inside the ten-yard line when he was pooch-punting. Auburn return men did not muff any balls, either, and got away from the bouncers inside the 10.

     There was a night and day difference on the offensive line, this spring. The starters were pretty stout in getting their man neutralized, and even the reserves did well at times. Auburn isn’t is deep here, as has been the case in the past few years, but there are some options if a starter gets dinged up. The reserves had some real trouble with the starting D-line, in the first half. After the starters gave up a touchdown pass on the first drive, Derrick Brown basically took over the line of scrimmage and made life miserable for blockers, runners and quarterbacks. The Auburn staff took him out of the game in the second half.

     I really like the 7-on-7 warmup stuff that has been implemented the past few A-Days. TV only showed a few plays, and it seemed mostly that the quarterbacks were dropping the ball off in the flat to running backs. We missed the front end of this drill. They typically do a deep ball, then a medium ball, then a short ball in those drills. The deep ball battles are the most fun to watch and judge whether a quarterback can stretch an SEC defense. I think Auburn has options there with multiple quarterbacks and receivers.

Unit observations after the jump!

     Auburn was not as dominant on the defensive line as in recent A-Days. Aside from the first drive for the reserves, the starters dominated. Auburn has its work cut out to produce reliable substitutes against a tough schedule this fall.

     I was worried that Auburn would suffer this spring with inexperienced linebackers but was pleasantly surprised. Kenny Britt led the way in this scrimmage, but Auburn had guys well into the depth chart making plays, too. Occasionally, a runner would get loose for 5 yards or so. We saw hardly any double-digit runs. Linebackers made the tackle.

     Auburn’s secondary was really put in a bad spot, early in the game. They played nearly all cover-two zone, and everyone on the offense knew it. A lot of the second and third team corners got turned around, could not see the pass coming, and were asking for flags to be thrown.

     Punting was really good. I think Aaron Siposs has a chance to be the best punter in the SEC this season, and Auburn has dangerous options in the return game as well as good coverage. Auburn had guys blocking punts last season at a good clip, and every one of the guys blocking those punts returns.

     Anders Carlson hit his only field goal attempt this spring from a decent distance. Where you learn about kickers in the spring is by watching warmups. They try one from 20. Then 30, etc. Of course, I didn’t get to watch this year. I’m told that Carlson had a near-perfect warmup. Hopefully, he’ll have a great fall.

     One of the things I liked about the offensive line this spring is that the starters really did not let anyone get loose up the middle on defense. Stunts on the D-line were rare this spring, but when they happened, the O-line was able to sort things out and play solidly from the inside out. If a pass rusher is let loose from the corner, Auburn’s mobile quarterbacks have options. Let a guy come clean up the middle, and that’s a real problem. Half of the field is suddenly cut off, and a good pass rusher is going to force the quarterback to scramble either to the side of the field where he has to sling the ball across his body or to the short side with less room for the receivers.

     Auburn has big shoes to fill in the H-back/tight end spots this year, and aside from a handful of short-yardage wildcat snaps, we didn’t see many of these guys on the field. I think we will be solid this season with Spencer Nigh and John Samuel Schenker. I didn’t see any missed blocks from that pair, and Schenker has potential in the passing game. I say “potential.” I have observed over the past decade with coach Gus Malzhan that only a couple of tight ends have caught a significant number of balls, those being Phillip Lutzenkirchen, and C. J. Uzomah.

     I was worried about the receiving corps this year with Ryan Davis and Derrick Slayton leaving. However, there is a lot of talent returning, and it was on display on A-Day. Usually we get the dropped-ball show in the spring, but the guys were pretty much on point. Seth Williams particularly impressed me. He was Auburn’s most reliable set of hands in 2018 as a true freshman. Matthew Hill made a couple of spectacular catches. Eli Stove was solid. One guy you don’t hear much about is Marquis McClain. He was out there a good bit on A-Day, and I was impressed with his blocking. He displayed that “Julio Jones” ability to just intimidate a much smaller corner and drive that defender into the bench. That can really help a running game. Auburn gets track star Anthony Schwartz back this fall, too.

     At running back, Auburn played Kam Martin and JaTarvious Whitlow pretty sparingly. There was a lot more work for Malik Miller, D. J. Williams and Harold Joiner. Williams was the most shifty of the reserves and showed good power as well.

     I don’t really know what to say about the unexpected display of quality depth at quarterback displayed on A-Day. There were a few forced throws when guys were playing under pressure behind reserve linemen, but otherwise I think Auburn displayed 4 quarterbacks capable of being good SEC players next fall. I can’t imagine we will be able to keep all 4 on the roster come September or October. I think Joey Gatewood will ultimately win the starting job, but I don’t think any of the others will go down without a fight.

     I’m sincerely hoping that this will be the last A-Day I have to sit out. I appreciate the SEC Network for having the live broadcast, but I really missed being able to watch warmups, and a lot of the second half was lost to viewers when the talking heads and commercials took over .

The post Beyond Blurred Lines: Rape Culture in Popular Media appeared first on Track 'Em Tigers, Auburn's oldest and most read independent blog.

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[siliconwebx]

How to Comment Your Code Like a Pro: Best Practices and Good Habits

Writing code is a lot like writing prose. Every person does it a little differently, and because of that, we all have a distinct voice when our code is read. We have different naming conventions and different problem-solving logic. We all think our code makes sense — especially if it works — but someone else might not. To combat this, we all need to get better at source code commenting. That way, whoever comes next to the project will have a clear path to understanding and improving/fixing our code.

How to Comment Code – The Basics

To begin with, let’s make sure that we’re all on the same page regarding what comments are. In this article, we’ll be discussing in-line comments within the scripts themselves. Stuff like this in a CSS file, for instance, where the readable code is broken up by comments that are ignored by the processors.

/** Body Element Styling **/ body {color:red;} h1 {size:17px;} /** Sidebar Widget Styling**/ #email-signup-1 {text-transform:uppercase;}

Each programming language has a different way of commenting in the source code. PHP and HTML and JavaScript and C# all have slightly different symbols that begin and end code. While there are some language-specific practices, too, there are more shared than not.

We’ll discuss some of the different kinds of comments that you will run across, their uses, and best practices (or maybe just good habits to get into) when using them yourself.

The basics tenets of commenting your code are simple:

Make them brief

Keep them relevant

Use them liberally, but not to excess

If you can keep those in mind, you’ll be doing pretty okay.

A Moment to Discuss Naysayers

Very briefly, let’s touch on the source code commenting naysayers. There is a not-small subset of developers who believe that commenting your code should be an exceptionally rare occasion. That when you need source code comments, that’s an indication that your code is weak in some way. That your naming conventions, logic, or something else isn’t as transparent as it should be.

And, to be fair, this argument makes a certain amount of sense. However, a number of circumstances exist that make more than enough of an argument to include documentation in the form of comments, regardless of how well-written and factored your code is.

The primary ones being that you’re not always going to be the one working on the project, and you can’t guarantee how experienced the next person will be. Even if you write great code, there’s a chance for confusion and ambiguity.

Header Block Documentation

If you look in some files, the code doesn’t begin immediately because there’s a large header in the file that describes what its purpose is, the variables, functions, methods, and so on. They might even be in a giant box around it to call your attention to it.

This isn’t a good habit to get into. Because it’s kind of pointless. Well, it’s really pointless, actually.

Also, look at the example above: the comment header is absurdly long. There are very rarely reasons to do that. So don’t.

Anything that you would put in that file should be put into your documentation anyway. Having it in a comment is redundant. Additionally, the end user is likely never going to get into your source code, so the comment would only be seen by other developers (or hardcore users of the software who already know the documentation).

Plus, whenever the documentation changes, you have to change it in that file. It’s easy to miss a step, and then your codebase can seriously get fouled up.

When Header Comments Are Useful

Header comments are useful in source code for simple explanations of what to expect in that file. For instance, this is a script that comes with a game development engine called RPG Maker, and the core JS file that controls each game scene begins like this:

//============================================================================= // rpg_scenes.js v1.6.2 //============================================================================= //============================================================================= /** * The Superclass of all scenes within the game. * * @class Scene_Base * @constructor * @extends Stage */ function Scene_Base() { this.initialize.apply(this, arguments); } Scene_Base.prototype = Object.create(Stage.prototype); Scene_Base.prototype.constructor = Scene_Base;

Additionally, note that the version number is listed at the very top. Do this. Do not, however, provide a comprehensive list of dates on which the file was altered and new versions published. That is recorded in Git or other version control software, and it should be available to anyone who needs that information. The version number is sufficient for most people who would be looking at this file.

In-Line Documentation

The most common type of source code comment is the in-line comment. There is a fine line with these between doing it right, going overboard, or being too sparing with them. It’s a balance you have to just learn over time, but there are some pretty good rules of thumb to consider.

Do not do line-by-line comments. In-line commentary is one thing. Line-by-line commentary makes the code look almost unreadable. See below:

function sourceCodeComment () { //calls a function var comment = document.getElementbyID("Code Comment").value; // declares a variable if (comment != null && comment != '') { //starts an if statement to evaluate if there's a comment return console.log("Thank you for your comment.") //prints a string to the console }

That’s overkill. If you have to, do it before or after the function. But not on each line. It is obtrusive and generally unhelpful. A comment before the function (or element) is good for organization and clarity. More than that should go into the documentation.

If you feel like it’s necessary to document, something like this will suffice.

//checks to see if there's a comment. If so, returns a thank you message. function sourceCodeComment () { var comment = document.getElementbyID("Code Comment").value; if (comment != null && comment != '') { return console.log("Thank you for your comment.") }

The naysayers will mention that even this kind of commentary is redundant because good naming conventions for your functions, variables, and methods will make the code readable. That is true to a point, but if you’re going for keeping ambiguity to its absolute minimum, a quick comment is the way to go.

It’s Okay to Put Warnings in Source Code Comments

Sometimes the obvious solution to a problem doesn’t actually solve the problem. In these cases, developers who come to a project later in development may look at a file and consider refactoring it take in that obvious solution. Doing so will be a complete waste of time.

Or maybe something else will come up in the future, and they try to call a function that breaks everything and brings the project to its knees.

Regardless, if you have something that you know for a fact won’t work and that you know other people will likely try in the future, it’s okay to warn them about it.

// Don't bother trying to use goodCodeComment() here. // It breaks bestPractices() despite seeming like the best option. // We went with simplyOkayCodeComment() instead. function simpleOkayCodeComment() { //some kind of code goes here }

Also, did you notice what we did in that example? We not only gave the warning to future devs, but included a placeholder comment in the middle of a function. Because source code comments are ignored, you can use them to keep placeholder text in the file (sort of as an annotation to yourself to return there, or as an example to someone as an explanation).

Don’t Be a Jerk

I have seen this happen before, especially in open-source projects that weren’t moderated terribly well. Someone will find a less-than-stellar snippet of code and use a comment to denegrate the author.

//This function looks like it was written by a third grader. //It shouldn't work, but it does somehow. I don't want //to fix it because I want you all to see how bad it is.

Or maybe they do fix the code, but include the code, simply commented out, so that they can show off their code, while at the same time mocking the previous author.

//The old code was so bad, I just had to leave it here for you to see. //I fixed it. My code is below. But look at this. // function theMatrix() { // var neo = maybeTheOne.data + theOracle.data // if theOne() !== neo // return console.log("you got the gift, but it looks like you're waiting for something") // }

Just make sure that you never do this. Even if you think you’re being funny or that it makes you look good, it isn’t and it doesn’t.

The real use of commenting out code is for you to keep that code handy while trying something else. Or to give an example of what didn’t work before so someone doesn’t try it again fruitlessly.

Source Code Comments for WordPress

In general, WordPress is run on four different languages. HTML, CSS, PHP, and JavaScript. Making sure that use the right characters for the comments is imperative.

For HTML:

<!-- comments go here and can be single or on multiple lines --></em>

In CSS:

/* Any number of lines will be a comment until the comment is closed */

Both PHP and JavaScript have the same methods for doing single- and multi-line comments:

<?php function(); // a single line comment is like this ?>

or

<?php /* unlike above, you can carriage return and no matter how many lines you use, the comment won't stop until closed */

Conclusion

If you’re in the trenches day in and day out, writing code and pushing to GitHub, your organization may have a style guide for comments they want you to follow. If they don’t, however, or you are on your own, keeping this stuff in mind will not only make your job easier in the future, but will also help out anyone who comes after you, too.

What are your tips and tricks for getting the most out of commenting your code?

Article featured image by Skillup / shutterstock.com

The post How to Comment Your Code Like a Pro: Best Practices and Good Habits appeared first on Elegant Themes Blog.

😉SiliconWebX | 🌐ElegantThemes

[turtle-steverogers]

sksjsksk okay idk if you write sprace but uhhh i'm in the mood for a race-gets-super-drunk/high-and-runs-into-spot-onthestreet-and-things-get-Gay typa fic If you don't do sprace then ralbert is good too bc theyre both adorable uwu

bro heck yeah i write sprace we STAN sprace 

i GOTCHU high bois is my BRAND

warnings: w e e d

ship: sprace

word count: 1073 heh

high coffee dates

Race smiled broadly, his eyes blissed out as he took another long drag from the blunt he was nursing.  Albert sat loosely in front of him, limbs drooping heavily as he hazily scanned the city, eyes bloodshot and happy.  They’d been in a little alcove in Central Park for a while, steadily smoking their way through separate blunts and becoming one with the white noise that surrounded them.  

Race particularly enjoyed afternoons such as these.  Minutes seeping by with zero obligations- responsibilities getting lost in the smoke.  It was therapeutic in a sense and he was comfortable enough with Albert that he didn’t feel the need to interact with him entirely while they were in each other’s company.  They could just exist simultaneously and be content.

Race inhaled another lungful, brain hazing out even more.  Everything around him had a dull quality, the shapes of the world less sharp than usual.  He blearily rubbed at his eyes, but nothing seemed to right itself.  Wow.  He was really high.

“Hey, uh,” Albert leaned forward, his hand landing off-center on Race’s knee, “I’m tired and shit, so I think I’ma call it a thick day, okay?”

Race scrunched his eyes shut as a laugh bubbled in his chest, “Thick with two Cs?”

“Thiccccc,” Albert drawled, “Thick with all the Cs, man.”

They laughed heartily, heads thrown back in joy.

“Okay, man,” Race said, clambering to his feet and haphazardly helping Albert up before clapping him on the back, “I’ll catch ya, later.”

Albert nodded, patting his cheek and chuckling, “Byeeeee.” He saluted lazily, then turned and staggered off in the direction of his apartment complex, leaving Race to venture the opposite way, towards his.

He walked for several blocks, eyes unfocused as he faintly observed the world around him, smiling serenely.  But as he continued to walk, he became aware of how utterly confused he was.  Where was his apartment complex again?  What street was he even on?

He was too far gone to let the panic that distantly gripped his stomach to manifest.  But he was aware that he wasn’t in a good situation, so he stopped walking, pausing to look at the area surrounding him.

Nothing was recognizable.  Fuck.

“Yo, man, you okay?”

A new voice cut into the blur of his consciousness, pulling him out of his head slightly and into the moment.  He turned with wide eyes and found himself looking down at a shorter man with an impossibly sharp jawline and gleaming brown eyes.

Race heard himself giggle, “Fuck no, man, I’m lost as shit and you’re hot as shit.”

Subconsciously, he was aware that he might have just put himself in immense danger by calling the guy hot, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  The guy didn’t seem to mind.  Instead, his eyebrows flew to his hairline, an amused smirk finding its way to his lips.

“And you’re stoned as shit,” The guy countered, “are you lost?”

Race stared at him for a moment longer before turning his head slowly to look around, hiis current predicament returning, “Oh, yeah,” he slurred, “I am.”

The guy seemed to be holding back laughter, “Do you have someone you can call?  Want me to get an Uber for you or something?”

Race fixed his gaze back on the guy, “Who’re you?  Why are you so hot?” he asked, ignoring the guy’s question.

“I’m Spot,” Spot said, reaching out and gently pulling Race out of the ongoing crowd of people swarming the streets, “And I could ask you the same question.”

Race’s eyes widened, “Fuck me, bro.  Literally, take my ass and fuck me.”

Spot’s expression turned into one of alarm and he huffed out a bemused laugh, “Maybe sometime when you’re not high and you know what you’re agreeing to.”

Race shook his head, admiration and awe etched on his face, “Hot and consensual.  What more could I want?”

“Okay, buddy, we really needa find a safe way to get you home.” Spot said, seriously, although he was still smiling, “Can I see your phone?  What’s your name, by the way?”

“Uh, Race,” Race said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone, using his fingerprint to click into it before handing it to Spot, who took it and pulled up Race’s contacts.

“Okay,” he said, eyes narrowing in focus as he fiddled with the phone for a moment.  

His fingers were flying across the screen and Race frowned, “What’re you doing?”

“Hm?” Spot sounded distracted, “Oh, you’ll see,” he typed for another moment before he looked expectantly as Race, “There, done.  Anyway, who can I call?  On favorites I see a ‘Jack’, an ‘Elmer’, and an ‘Albert’.”

Race took a moment to process the words, before he blurted a loud, “Jack!” out.

“Alright, give me one moment.” Spot tapped on Jack’s contact and held the phone up to his ear, communicating the situation briefly to Jack before thanking him and hanging up, “He’ll be over at that Starbucks in twenty,” Spot concluded, pointing across the street, “For now, wanna wait in there?”

Race’s eyes lit up, “Hell yeah, bro, I love Starbucks!”

Spot laughed, already beginning to lead him across the street, “Alright, c’mon.”

They entered the Starbucks and Spot lead Race to the booth that ran along the wall opposite of the cash registers.  Race watched as he strolled to the counter to order coffees, and a cake-pop upon Race’s rising munchie request, for the two of them.  

“Does this count as a first date?” Race giggled, pulling his iced caramel latte and chocolate cake pop towards his body, taking a long sip from the straw.

“Nothing counts ‘til you’re sober,” Spot said, taking a sip of his own drink, “but I put my number in your phone earlier, so if you were to want to have a first date…”

“Ah fuck yeah!” Race whooped as Jack walked in.  He turned excitedly to Jack, who had approached the table, “I got a hot guys number, Jackie!”

Jack bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows raising, “Wow, okay,” he turned to Spot, “Thanks for taking care of him, man, that was really cool of you.  He’s pretty stupid when he’s high.”

Spot shook his head, “It’s no problem.  Really.”

Race stood and turned to look down at Spot, “I will call you, my sweets, I promise.”

Spot and Jack laughed loudly.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, buttercup.”

-

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag, bros i GOTCHU

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