#i technically could I just know i need more variety long term

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

college is super funny bc every time I tell a professor my general career plan theyre like "well it'll take a lot of work but it seems like something you would enjoy and it can be great work! if you need help just ask me" yet when I explain why I actually wanna go into this they say, without fail (and in much nicer terms), "wow dude you're a fucking nerd. theres a million cool reasons to pursue this career path and you chose the lamest one. are you just like this??"

[tragedytells-tales]

Brooo I love your writing so much!! It’s literally so great😭 can you write the brothers (or just Lucifer and Satan if that’s too much) with a teen!mc (platonic obv) that is VERY gen z. Like if they’re able to have their phone while in Devildom then they would constantly be talking about stupid internet drama while using strange terms. They know the stuff they say is weird but that just encourages them to be even more unhinged and chaotic. I just thought it’d be funny :) thanks if you decide to do this!!

"I hear you loud and clear! My apologies for this taking so long, I was only able to come up with something for Lucifer and Satan."

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

Lessons in cringe culture

Notes - Teen!MC, Headcanons, Shitpost, comedy just pure comedy

Characters - Feat. Lucifer and Satan

Summary - MC has a few ideas on how to make these ten million years old demons more modern. Are they good ideas? Who knows and who cares

Warnings - Not proof read

TW - None

Lucifer:

[ New word to vocabulary - Gyatt ]

- So MC teaches him gyatt. And not actually on purpose, but not on accident either. They had the thought of saying it out loud around him just to see if it would be a good enough substitute for "god" that they could say it without almost smiting the Avatar.

- They had the thought about a week ago and completely forgot about, but they couldn't just sit there silently when they got jumpscared by the newest update to celestialdrop Valley

"You can now drink mayonnaise."

- Either way he is scared of teenagers of MCs variety because he was sitting in pure silence, minding his whole business while MC did something on their phone, until suddenly they screamed from the top of their lungs

"GYATT DAMN?! LEVI YOU WON'T BEEEEELIVE THIS!"

- Not only did they startle him out of his old ten million years aged bones, and dared to swear in his presence, but then before running to show Levi whatever it was that sparked this outburst MC turned to him and asked

"Are you all good?"

"...Yes? Why would I not be?"

- They give him the most evil of smiles before leaving. The smile was so evil that it sent shivers down his spine, for a human it was a devilish little smile that he knew meant nothing but trouble.

- The things he'd give for a single one of his technically adopted family to be normal ( <-- He literally handpicked everyone in the house, and he's no better but he's also the oldest so )

- He asks MC about it later and gets a proper explanation, only thing is that now he can't ground them for the improper use of language because the use of "gyatt" was surprisingly clever and smart

- Damnit MC, stop getting the braincell!

- He genuinely starts using it in secret whenever he wants to say "goddamn", he dare not utter it around his brothers lest they start bullying him

- Jokes on him, he gets drunk and slips up in the group chat!

Satan:

[ New phrase to vocabulary - It's my turn with the braincell! ]

- Speaking of. One would think that because he reads so many things and has so much knowledge and is technically the youngest of his brothers that he would know at least a bit of funky phrases

- He does. He knows Devildom phrases specifically. But he's also stupidly smart, smart stupid if you will, so he takes things MC sometimes says a tad to literal

- So imagine his surprise when they say "Hey, it's my turn with the braincell. I need it for algebra, hand it over!!!" While studying with their friends

- If you imagined very, very surprised then you are correct

- Aka: he's worried about the amount of concussions MC must've had for them to lost so many brain cells that they need to borrow and take turns with them from others

- He would've also questioned where and how they’re getting the brain cells they’re borrowing if he weren't so concerned in the first place

- He genuinely asks them what kind of brain cells are they missing to see how he can help

- They tell him "My brother in christ, I'm simply jesting about" and now he thinks MC is a sickly Victorian child with a lack of brain cells who got cursed

- Congratulations MC, you've tricked the smartest person in the house, but at what cost?

- The cost of him texting the group chat that MC has lost brain cells and needs to borrow some, that's what. All because they're too busy laughing to properly explain, and now Levi and Belphi are clowning on everyone else because they ALL fell for it too

- The price of living with beings who are over ten million years old is a steep one

- He steals the phrase and instantly starts telling his brothers to borrow brain cells btw, he's adapting

- He's been stealing phrases from MC for a while now, but this one is his favorite

- ( They taught him "fuck this thing, fuck that thing, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool-" last week, they’re not allowed to be friends anymore )

AN - The idea of teaching Lucifer "gyatt" made my lungs hurt, but then the thought of Asmo learning "down bad", Beel learning "bussin", and Mammon learning "L + Ratio + you fell off + fatherless" also made me lose it. I just wasn't sure how to go about that. ( Also thanks for the compliment!!! I hold it ever so gently,,, )

[glowingbadger]

Hi, it’s @libidinous-weeb!! I would like to request some alphabet prompts for SETETH, the dragon daddy who could fix ME.

Could I get M, Y, and…perhaps either D or W? I know you’ve done those letters already but I feel like I know in my heart you could think of more lmao. If not, maybe T then?

No pressure just D and W are my favoritessss

My love!! My husbando of husbandos!! My perfect dragon DILF!! This request was technically further down on my list, but I wanted to post some Seteth thirst-content for father's day lmao so here we are.

For my fellow dilf-fuckers, I'll include a link here to the section of my masterlists containing the frankly baffling amount of Seteth smut I've written here over the years. Tis the season!

Alphabet prompts - Seteth (FE3H)

M (motivation), T (toys), Y (yearning)... and maybe an extra W (wild card) as a treat...

NSFW 18+

Motivation: While Seteth's sex drive is predictably pent up and, as a result, intensely compelling (we'll get to it below), he's also incredibly accustomed to stifling his lusts- so much so that it's practically a reflex at this point. As such, actually pursuing his desires is something that will need to be gently encouraged and teased out of him with time, so for a long while into a relationship with him, he's mostly reactionary about it. It's as though in showing that you desire him, it subconsciously grants him "permission" to express his own lusts in turn- so unless you get really good at reading extremely subtle cues very early on (heated stares that he averts as soon as you catch him, his touch ever so slightly lingering, etc), you're going to have to be the one to initiate things for a while- but when you do, he meets your passionate energy and then some.

Toys: As to the comparatively sparse options presumably available within the intended time period of FE3H, Seteth has a politely curious but ultimately limited interest in them. While it can certainly be appealing to play with a plug or carefully carved dildo of sorts (and I've always enjoyed the idea of him using one specifically to stimulate you during the work day while he's unavailable, or to keep his cum inside of you), it's typically not a significant part of the "main event" for him. He's of course not shy about lubes, massage oils, and the like- as these can be pleasantly stimulating, provided they don't cause too much of a mess. To my mind, it's more amusing to imagine a modern setting, where Seteth is made to confront the sheer quantity and variety of pleasure toys that humans have innovated over the years- including some rather "dragon inspired" ones, on which he has strongly conflicting feelings.

Yearning: Goddess, Seteth wants you, and it's just about compelling enough to break through literal centuries of repression piled on so heavy that he'd almost forgotten he possessed such carnal wants and needs before he found himself with an oh-so-willing partner. In terms of his sex-drive, he's honestly playing catch-up in a way, and he has to relearn how to accept, process and express his lusts in a way that won't quietly drive him mad. It's not even necessarily repression solely due to religious dogma- though his position in the church does require that he conduct himself appropriately to avoid scandal. It's more about the need to avoid A. siring a child by accident (no one needs uknown half-dragons wandering around Fodlan) and B. allowing the wrong person to find out a bit too much about him, and by extension, Flayn (it's tough to hide pointed ears in bed).

Wild card bonus round: This is more a personal chip I've had on my shoulder about writing Seteth smut, but I've always felt strongly that calling him Cichol in bed is something that should only be done with care, during moments of emotional intimacy and vulnerability, and most importantly, only after discussing it with him. Whipping that one out on him mid-sex without warning would just frazzle his nerves and take him completely out of the moment- hell, worst case it could be similar to dead-naming. But with discussion about it prior, or waiting for him to ask you to call him by his old name, it can be an incredibly tender and sensual experience for both of you- a sign of the deep and profound trust he has in you, and his desire to open himself to you completely.

[pedripics]

What’s pedri’s actual position

the great thing about Pedri is that you can play him in a variety of roles because of his technical level and how smart he is. he has played in pretty much every midfield position you can think of, at las palmas he played a lot as a winger or 10 as well.

personally, i prefer to see him playing deeper in the midfield rather than higher up and i think the majority of the people will agree with me on that. for me, the most beautiful version of football comes to life when Pedri has the ball at his feet. that obviously happens a lot more when he plays deeper. LCM/ DLP with a lot of freedom to go forward is imo THE position he should be playing long term because from there he can give you passes, control, rhythm, offense, defense, literally everything you could ask for simply by using the ball the way he does. part of what makes pedri so great is not just his obvious talent but also his awareness and IQ, there's only so much you can learn or train, sometimes players just have that instinct and pedri has it. he has excellent ball control and ball-carrying abilities as well as ball protection, and he's also quite impressive with 'pre-assist' passes and long balls. he's also very press-resistant and is able to squeeze the ball out of tight situations because he manages to find spaces that don't exist. one of his most important assets is his ability to control the pace of the game to his liking. my dad lovingly calls him football's 'Dr. Strange' because it seems like he sees all the options and just picks whatever version of play he wants for himself and the team. and that brings the team calmness. xavi once said that barça is a completely different team if pedri is on the pitch. you could perfectly see that in the away game against psg or in last weeks game against valencia. the second he entered the pitch, he made a difference because of how he slowed down the game to barça's (and his) advantage. without him we ran, with him they ran. when Pedri got injured the team often struggled without him, not just because he is obviously a talented player whose qualities are missing but also because they are used to relying on him to decide the pace for them. xavi once said that Pedri gives them a break and that when some players have the ball, his heartrate goes up, however, when Pedri has the ball, it goes down and he relaxes. Flick and pretty much any coach Pedri has played under have said the exact same thing. Why Xavi decided to move Pedri further up the pitch last season after demanding more than 100 passes per game from him just months prior I will never know. Obviously, sometimes depending on the opponent and, well, squad availability it is necessary to play Pedri further up the pitch. DLF's use of Pedri at the Euros is a great example of this. I know a lot of people weren't a fan of it and just from an enjoyment point of view I agree. It's not a great experience to see Pedri making 20 or less passes per game. But it was exactly what DLF and the team needed. DLF knew that he wouldn't face deep blocks (or rarely so), which is why it made sense to have Pedri in the most crucial zone because of his ability to hide himself and create space where there isn't. Pedri is so good at basically every position in the midfield that he has to play out of his preferred position because others cannot do the same. Yes, he saw less of the ball but for Spain that wasn't necessarily a problem because they didn't sustain pressure, they were happy to come up and down the pitch, and just look at the amount of chances Pedri managed to create even with very little touches. Personally, I don't like that style of play a lot, but it's how DLF wants them to play. And therefore it was understandable to use Pedri like that instead of the version we all prefer. That's why I don't like comparing international football to club football. If the team's structure is right, he can be brilliant as a 10. He mainly played there during his time at Las Palmas. The problem is that you can't isolate him there. You still need to give him some freedom

[mofffun]

Team wings headcanons??? Any????

They are children on the playground and arguing is proof of their "friendship"!!

Headcanons

Rita being the secret supplier to Yanma's antique collection (think government auction, double as one Gokkan's source of income)

Yanma Gast 100% knew about Moffun.

Yanma the hashtag angry mark vs Rita the pool of yarn mark (ahhh I want to doodle)

THEM WITH KIDS: Rita scaring a little girl in N’kosopa vs. the flower twirl with Ishabana boy + Yanma is a good teacher

when did they first hear the king-ohger legend

"You don't even know that?" -> Yanma: yelling at auroras to "turn off your damn speakers!!!" // Rita: can't tell a lightning cable from a type c

I don't think Rita is bad in tech in terms of lacking a sense in it but they just never had the need to study it

Rita will never say the full technical name for Yanma's inventions though (Does he even know his lie detector is called the Thundercarcker behind his back?)

(bringing the actors into this) Rita serectly adding another grudge on their list because Yanma's Moffun voice is actually really good

per manga ch13, the grudge list grew again because the Jealous Judge's retainer has a heart uchiwa for the yankii king

Yanma is smart enough to motivate the judge with words into helping him if necessary but it'll take a minute hour for Rita to begin wonder if it was because they agreed with his reasoning or his choice of words

Yanma is 2 years older but by kingship he is 6 years Rita's junior. Their first meeting happened at 21/19. The number fluctuates because I also really want to see their first meeting at 19/15.

similarity and differences:

teased by Himeno, Yanma turns red and Rita turns white

they are too gay to sit properly

parallel play (they could sit in a coffee shop for hours and people would think they are angry with each other because they're not talking but it's actually the most comfortable way for them to stay together in the same room)

unconsciously hum while working long hours

“what is sleep”/caffeine addicts 

 you KNOW they both have a tendency to fall asleep in their office

Both have a sweet tooth but Yanma in drinks and Rita in hard candy. Rita more so than Yanma because butterfly.

don’t really look at what he’s eating vs. has a gokkan-native comfort food

Yanma doesn't mind trying foods with dry/weird textures Rita is not exactly a picky eater (because gokkan food shortage/low variety of homegrown food) but typical “I need that texture once in a while or I start malfunctioning”

(Gokkan has all sort of weird pickles and dried meats, typical winter country)

Like any northerner Rita has a high alcohol tolerance though without a preference (okay Gokkan harvest(?) festival and the one day the prison complex is allowed fruit punch) and you'll find me beat up before I say Yanma Gast can take more than a beer.

Yanma Gast has a HUGE ego but I think it’s only gotten worse by having an eternal hyper in Shiokara. Does Rita has an ego? long story short, yeah.

Instances:

first meeting

development of king's hotline/ohger calibur/king's weapon

the moffun scalper

development of the lie detector

yanma's arrest and trial

when yanma and rita were castle-mates (?) before himeno and kagu got themselves in jail

jail time

the body swap phone call!!

body swap resolution (admit it canon is not giving it to us)

the voyage back home

maintenance spa day of the shugods

first meeting: I think one reason Rita doesn't like N'kosopa much (and an underlying cause to them randomly arresting everyone in 28 besides stress), is organized crime plagued N'kosopa in the aftermath of Wrath of Gods.

Post-Wrath, the blue king ran away, so N'kosopa is either an anarchy or at warring states where crime bosses and militarists took hold. "Police" exist but took bribes per Shiokara. At that time, Rita just became king themself and has enough on their plate. So even though it's technically a domestic affair, it's a growing potential threat to Chikyuu's order but it's too systemic for a 10-year-old foreigner to take on alone.

I also think Rita would be required to witness the day Yanma officially becomes King. He has the popular vote, but to keep things simple, the monarchy is kept instead of transitioning into procedural democracy. So the yakuza lawyer, Usba maybe, say they have to get the Chief Justice here, to everyone turning blue and silent for a moment from the excited discussion of a big ceremony hearing their name.

but! my initial fic idea in may/june was very simple because I only wanted to put them in a bike + sidecar and sunglasses and comedic road trip. They chase down a McGuffin to help a kid. Their budapest. Where Yanma making "Absolute Neutrality" Rita's name comes from something they said. Maybe that's why the couldn't end the incident in a less legal but more effective way.

another first meeting idea allows them to meet younger as late teens is maintenance day for the shugods. A very random event is if the Yanma needs the Ohger Calibur to stay over temporarily, how is Rita gonna continue with the trials? Did he buy them a substitute pon pon Moffun hammer at the tuck shop??

Developing the henshin system: See I think Yanma is not going to bother putting in a function that he personally can’t use but knowing it’s a team’s weapon, as a good designer, he at least has to ask the other kings what they want as an auxillary. What is his reaction hearing Rita says bow? (i talk as if anything other than HA? is an option) What if Rita didn’t suggest bow, but Yanma just assigned them that because it fits that stick-in-the-mud?

Body swap resolution: Yanma wants to train his body but doesn't know where to start. I mean, he can't ask Rita of course. But if anyone can keep a secret, it's them. Oh of course he doesn't have to go that far and outright get humiliated again, so he has to phrase it like picking a fight. Rita is down anytime to "convince" Yanma Gast so they didn't really register it as a one either. (re: Erica saying arguing is the proof that this two are "friends")

Yanma's arrest:

Yanma's hair got fried blond because of his ultracomputer

N'kosopa mass protest + boast rally that conversely proved Yanma is the culprit

nobody remembers to hire Yanma a lawyer

a particular loud shriek when Gokkan's power black out (lucky for yanma it's summer i.e. long day)

Morfonia and her unsaved files

Yanma's sentence include improving Gokkan TV/Internet reception as community service

Jeramie using the "boys will be boys"/"he's just a kid" defence as Yanma's Grand-Master to mask he secretly contributed here and there

+ power blackout doesn't really affect the bugnarok because they're underground and only beginning to build a power system with Gira and Shugoddom's help

Shugoddom's historic gas lamps!

Himeno breaking down Yanma's door because "if not for my hospitals all equipped with the best backup power!" (solar/wind energy), and that she can't curl her hair that morning.

Kaguragi turned it into a campfire story night/community event somehow

Yanma's trial day is the day Gokkan's immigration and tourism board has to overwork for the first time.

Shiokara and hacker gang arguing for visitation rights. homemade bento

does yanma sentence last for more than two years if he says prison break is an additional charge?

Gira tried negotiations but he knew he isn't being fair and backed down quickly with a Rita stare

Yanma got dragged away with Papi-chan helicopter style, he's yelling at Tonbo to put in a good word for for his buddy and Papi-chan ignore him lol

CHARACTER ANALYSIS

They have two key words: past/present and secrets.

the thing with wings is, they somehow sparked in each other another side. (i.e. they drive each other crazy, and they are the only ones that can do that to the other) But then they spring back like nothing next day like children on the playground.

On a level, these two are actually very similar in terms of being analytical and practical. Yet their conflict comes from attacking problems from opposite angles. Rita represents the past and Yanma the future. Rita will collect evidence and review history while Yanma focuses on what's already in hand and invents something new. I said that right, but in a way Rita is forward-facing when they never let any childhood trauma stay a trauma or haunt them; Yanma is nostalgic based on his antique/physical media collection.

You may say it's partly recognition of the self. That's why they are only antagonistic 80% of the time.

(hc territory) They ended up doing the same thing/making the same choice ouf of completely different reasons. They are more similar than they think they are but no one can name what/why (not even me).

Yanma Gast 100% knew about Moffun but he kept his mouth shut in ep11. He (should) never told anyone about what Rita did in the underworld. I'm lying to myself he trusted the judge won't do something they didn't deem necessary so he turned away in 38.

Rita holds grudges. Yanma Gast is the source of their headache since he stole Gira and kick-started the story. Sometimes they don't get how such an obnoxious person is so popular. But Rita guesses, he's dependable when it's important. Not a very skilled fighter but he's not dumb. At least they can count on him not to intervene if they make it clear they are making a move.

the movie scene: No spoilers, but, I just think that’s a really nice scene to that established how different Yanma and Rita are while providing a base for reconciliation following their argument in 19. Neither of them are acting like their usual self. I don’t mean they are ooc, but you see them perform different than everyday under an unknown situation.

[voidimp]

7, 14 and 21 for alexander

ok first of all i need u to know. i gave cameron a brother named alexander bc of this ask lmao. but i will not be answering these questions about him i will be answering them about oli as intended

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

well for starters theyre a vampire now lmAO but uhhhh idk!! honestly i feel like beyond just being like. More Developed Now they really havent changed that much, like most of their original traits are still there. visually they look kinda different but thats just bc i got better at drawing them the way i actually intended them to look lmaooo

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

this is a tricky one because it really depends on the person... theyve got some manipulative tendencies so theyll kind of play up whatever traits they think will get them what they want. in terms of like. public perception, they prefer to be the one observing, not the one being observed, so they generally kind of just try not to draw too much attention to themself. which is not to say they try to be unapproachable, more just unassuming. even in situations where they are trying to attract someones attention, its generally in a way where theres more than theyre letting on.

21. Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

their needing to consume human flesh could technically be considered an illness, or at least the result of one. i still havent worked out All The Lore behind this yet but it was essentially caused by some sort of affliction specific to vampires. its usually fatal, but those who do survive get stuck with some nasty side effects. like eating people.

beyond that they kinda have an unrelated eating disorder? but in the sense that they kind of just... forget. they dont realize that theyre hungry until theyre really fucking hungry. it just doesnt register, so unless they make a conscious effort to keep track of their meals, they usually end up going a bit too long in between them. they were like this before they became a vampire too (whether due to their father just not feeding them enough or bc they were trying to Avoid Him so they skipped meals i havent decided yet) so they just kinda got into the habit of ignoring their hunger & then never broke that habit.

also this ones probably obvious if youve seen any art of them but theyre blind in their left eye. and i guess on a related note they have poor vision & some variety of color blindness in their right eye, although i dont remember specifically which kind (i think it might have been blue cone monochromacy but i cant find where i had that info saved).

they also have a variety of mental health issues which i could probably get into the details about later but this answer is long enough already. they are definitely Dealing With Some Shit tho lmao

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Personal rant bc we haven't gotten my official results yet but we did get a very stressful phone call about it, and because adhd has been kicking my ass lately. This is going to be long and rambly and all over the place, and if you're anti self-dx, I wouldn't suggest reading further (or interacting with me in general). It also sort of becomes just me psychoanalyzing my own behavior and infodumping about it

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

For context, I'm autistic and adhd, and I went and talked to a psychologist a couple weeks ago and had some testing done

Personally, I don't really feel the need to have an official diagnosis for autism. I'm confident in my informed self-diagnosis (technically it was actually my parents who first suggested I might be autistic but I've learned a lot about it since then and now I'm pretty sure I'm more convinced than they are) and I just don't think a doctor's note will do much for me (totally understand and support anyone who does want to get diagnosed tho). Adhd however is another story. If I want meds that will actually work and accommodations with my school, they need proof, and as things are I am desperate for some help.

So the appointment I had a couple weeks ago was supposed to be for adhd testing, but apparently he also lowkey tested me for autism while we were there. Which like, fine, whatever, it would be sort of nice to have that validated I guess, but when we checked back in with him on the phone earlier this week he started using outdated and problematic terms like high-functioning and aspergers and I'll just say that it did not exactly inspire confidence

But that can of worms aside, let me get back to (mostly) adhd related ranting

I feel like there could be an essay about how the diagnostic process for adhd is flawed and doesn't work all that well for people who have an internalized notion that their worth as a person is dependent on their academic success and task performance and therefore spent their childhood and adolescence funneling all their efforts time and attention into school and generally being seen as a good well-behaved bright kid out of desperation to have value (and it worked- I've always made good grades, but what people don't see is the days, weeks, months of paralyzed procrastination, the anxiety-fueled mad rush in the end to get things done late, and the grace I'm inexplicably shown every time, without which my grades would be much worse)

I'm scared, that I'm going to be determined "too high functioning" to be diagnosed even though I'm currently doing basically nothing with my life outside of college and yet I'm technically failing like half of my classes right now, that they're going to say "well the signs weren't there when you were younger" even though there's a variety of explanations for why that might be, not the least of which being the fact that for some folks with both autism and adhd the traits of the two have a tendency to "hide" one another

Apparently he also ran an iq test on me, and he broke down the 5 scores to us; I scored in the upper average/above average bracket in all but the 4th, processing speed, in which I'm below average. And like yeah, I'm well aware that I'm slow, but I guess it's official now-

Anyway, my main point with the iq thing was that while he was telling us about my high scores in the first 3 areas, I'm sitting here getting more and more uneasy, bc I'm like yeah sure I'm intelligent or whatever but it isn't worth shit if I can't motivate myself to actually do anything with that potential, and the conditions under which I was tested just don't reflect my day to day life closely enough to give an accurate reading, in my opinion.

Basically I'm afraid this guy is going to look at the results of some tests- tests which I was really focused on bc of the intrinsic fear of failure that plagues my existence (even though rationally I know you can't fail a psychological evaluation) and bc I know it's a bitch of a process to even get tested in the first place and I wasn't going to waste the opportunity goddammit-

That he's going to look at them and decide that I'm "too smart" to have a learning disability, when, again, all the brains in the world wouldn't do me any good if I

1) don't have the ability to self-motivate and direct them at what I need to be working on, even if I've been beating myself up about that pile of homework or my disaster of a room for weeks or even months, and

2) have such a loose grasp on the concept of time and priorities that I have on multiple occasions found myself pulling all-nighters on personal projects or reading for pleasure or scrolling on my phone only to realize oh shit I have to get up for school in like two hours, oh fuck, I'm going to be exhausted all day, what happened to "let's go to sleep early this time, I'll just do this for like 5 more minutes and then call it a night"

or realize after one of those all-nighters that what was actually a period of about 10 hours feels more like 10 minutes to me ("man wasn't I literally just here to get dinner" the next morning, passing the caf on my way to class on exactly 0 hours of sleep and still having managed not to get any of my actual class work done in all that time)

And also just that tendency in itself is significant, to get so deeply hooked on something once it does manage to get my attention, that I often feel like I can't stop until outside forces demand it- staying up until 4am on a school night painting my phone case and texting my crush (14 or 15), making bracelet after bracelet at the kitchen table at ungodly hours of the night because I couldn't sleep and now that I'm on a roll I don't want to break the momentum (18, a few months ago), throwing horrific amounts of time at reading fanfiction of whatever series currently has my interest when I have so much work that needs to get done if I want to have a chance at passing my courses this semester (18, basically present), making a last minute birthday present for my aunt and being so caught up in the rush and the craft of what I was working on that I ignored my body's needs until I ended up pissing myself (12), etc

The fact that I've been meaning to catch up with my high school friends for weeks or months, literally something as simple as a "how have yall been" in the group chat, yet for some reason I still haven't gotten around to it

The fact that for all my alleged intelligence I still haven't learned to ride a bike or drive a car or apply for a job or develop a work-life balance or play any of the instruments I want to or have a thriving social life or feel like a person (I think these are more autism-related but I'm throwing them in anyway)

The fact that minor (or even just mistakenly perceived) disapproval or judgment or teasing or having a text left on read can send me spiraling into anxiety and convinced that everyone hates me and that I'm worthless or obnoxious or stupid (rejection sensitivity is a bitch)

The fact that when I try to read I have to make a constant conscious effort not to jump ahead and all over the place and I often have to reread the same passage multiple times to understand it because I realize that I wasn't actually paying attention the first couple of times, my mind elsewhere and my eyes wandering

I know even if I do get diagnosed they'll say it's inattentive, not hyperactive or combined, because the majority of my hyperactivity is either fairly subtle movements (because I'm socially anxious and clumsy and don't want to draw attention to myself or run the risk of breaking or disturbing something) or just straight up in my head. Like sure I'm not a nine year old boy who can't sit still in class and is constantly bouncing around all over the place and getting into trouble and driving his parents and teachers crazy (bc being seen as annoying and unruly by authority figures would have broken me), but there's always so much noise in my brain, it's always talking or playing music in the background or thinking about the 47 different projects I need to be working on and the media it wants to be engaging with instead and the 1000s of things there are to worry about in a day; sometimes I'll get stuck in a loop where I'm mentally repeating a word or phrase over and over and over again until I feel like I'm going crazy

All of this is stuff that this guy doesn't see, and that worries me when it comes to the validity of his assessment

But basically, what I'm trying to say is, I swear to god if the people around me don't believe that there's clearly something not neurotypical going on here I'm going to fucking riot

And, ranting aside, I want to end this post with a note to all my fellow neurodiverse folks who are waiting for answers or treatment or validation or support or whatever.

I feel you. Hang in there. You have my well wishes in your endeavors. And remember, it's ok to be happy with or proud of who you are and what makes you different, it's ok to embrace your neurodiversity while also acknowledging how difficult it can be to live with and the fact that you might need extra time or support with things that seem to come easily to other people. It's ok to admit that it's fucking hard sometimes, and it's ok to ask for help. Take care, mates

[anderseva]

1, 2, 3, not only you & me || norgeva

WHO: Noah Puckerman @puckhq, Morgan Weston @morgan-weston, & Eva Anderson

WHERE: The Spare Room & then Eva's home

WHEN: Friday, August 9th

WHY: Two hot people enter the bar with technically the same birthday present for the birthday boy, so they decide to turn it into a threesome. There's no smut under here, we decided to fade to black because writing a threesome is too much work for us but pretend this is the steamiest sex of your life under this read more anyways.

MORGAN WESTON

"Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on? Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?" The infamous Tanya Tucker song blared out through the speakers. The sober people in the room probably wished that it was actually the Tanya Tucker version that was being belted out, but alas, it was not. Instead, it was some drunk lady, with a bottle of Budweiser - king of beers, after all - in one hand, and a microphone in the other, misreading the words on the screen, from the karaoke software. Morgan laughed to himself. Of course Puck would be celebrating his birthday at a bar with karaoke. A variety of songs had made sure the party was going strong, and "Delta Dawn" was no exception. 

People cheered for the drunk lady - they were probably also drunk - and Morgan took a swig of his own beer and looked around, spotting a seemingly happy birthday boy. Puck and him hadn't seen much of each other since the day they slept together, but that didn't mean that Morgan was upset, by any means. It just meant that there was more catching up to do. Heading towards him, the tall cowboy took several long strides, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a group of people instantly swarming him with birthday wishes. Morgan took another sip of his beer, and thought about what to do. He was in the middle of the room, and he looked pretty awkward, he figured. So instead, he tried to spot a way out of the situation. And there she was. He could spot her from a thousand miles away, he was sure of it. "Ms Anderson," Morgan greeted her, in their silly little way, as he walked up to her, with a smirk on his bearded face. "Are ya here for Puck's birthday too?"

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva hated karaoke, even more so while she was sober and her vision was 100% clear as day. Maybe it stemmed from having a musically inclined family, but hearing people who were tone deaf attempting to belt out songs she probably didn't know or hated was the worst kind of torture. She was only here for Puck, and that was the only thing that had guided her feet into this godforsaken place and right over to the bar. She'd even tipped the bartender a few extra bills to send a tray of shots over to Puck while she was being served bottomless Dirty Martinis — extra dirty in terms of less juice and more gin. As soon as he started putting them down in front of her, she was tossing them back before he could even start working on the next one. 

The crowd around Puck wasn't a surprise since he was so damn popular these days, and she didn't mind having to busy herself with some other people she knew, or had exchanged a few posts with online before finally meeting in person. Everyone seemed to be keeping the convos light while they sipped on their own alcohol, so it was decent enough company until she felt the need to push her way through the crowd to get to the birthday boy. Luckily that issue was pushed aside when she saw Morgan coming her way, and she couldn't have contained the glowing look on her face even if she'd wanted to (which she obviously didn't). "Hi, Mr. Weston." Eva beamed. God, she needed to unpack why she could turn into a bit of a puddle around only two attractive, tall ass men, but tonight wasn't the night to analyze that shit. "I am, but I didn't know you and Puck knew one another too." She hummed. "I'm surprised to see you at a packed bar, but I'm also jealous that Puck is apparently special enough to make this happen." She stated and frowned. "How do you two know each other?"

MORGAN WESTON

The way Eva looked tonight - 'oh, to hell with it', Morgan thought, 'the way Eva looked all the time' was enough to turn even the worst of days into the best ones, for the tall man. And then, her reaction to him, the way she greeted him, the tone of her voice with that smile mixed in, had him weak in the knees and stumbling, as he tried to casually lean against the big bar. If she asked, he'd blame it on the alcohol, and the amount of beers he'd had tonight. Grinning back at her, he took the last sip of his beer, before putting the bottle on the bar, and signaling to the bartender to get him another one, as well as another of whatever Eva was drinking. 

Morgan leaned in so he wouldn't have to shout over the drunk karaoke lady, the height difference between them more apparent than ever when he did so. "We met at the mixer - like you and I," He started the story, and maybe it was because he was a little tipsy, but he felt confident in himself. "We kinda hit it off right away. He came over once. Y'know..." The bartender came around with the drinks, and Morgan took another sip of his beer, turning to look at the guy everyone had come here for. "He's a good-looking man, Puck is." He turned back to look at the girl that kept enchanting him with her ways of just being. Morgan was hoping that she was good at reading in between the lines of what he was saying, so that he didn't have to flat out say 'we fucked', because what kind of southern gentleman would do that? "Eva, have ya ever heard the song 'Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other'?"

EVA

If there was always one thing Eva could depend on when it came to Morgan, it was probably his ability to always look at her and make her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was in the top three for sure, that much she knew, yet that gleam in his eye certainly felt like she was in the number one spot. It also helped that she seemed to leave him just as flushed, which wasn't a rare occurrence for her to get that response in return, it was just foreign for it to be mutual. She bit her lip as he leaned in closer, already spiraling from the close proximity. Had it not been for the cheers around the bar for that horrible performance on stage, she might have completely forgotten the real reason why she was here and made a move on the man right there at the bar. 

She hadn't been anticipating much for Morgan and Puck's first meeting aside from some little meet cute where two tall, hot men probably made jokes about being the tallest in the room or some other masculine thing men do when they met other dudes, so her jaw was damn near on the floor as she followed along with where this story was going. Morgan didn't even have to spell it out himself as the song did just that, and she nodded her head slowly. "The gay cowboy song." She stated once her jaw was back intact. How her gaydar had missed this, she'd never know. "Wait — are you here to give Puck another round as a birthday present?" Eva questioned, and as soon as the words left her mouth, a light bulb went off in her head. "If you are, I was about to tell you that you'll have to get in line behind me...but there's three attractive bisexuals here, one birthday boy, and we're giving him similar birthday presents, so..." Her words trailed off there as she smirked up at the cowboy, figuring he'd catch where she was going with this.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Today had been a fucking awesome day and unlike most people, Puck actually liked karaoke. Yeah it was loud and most people couldn't sing, but the vibes were always right and the energy was always good. It was fun and people were drunk and celebrating him, so as far as the now thirty-two year old was concerned, there was no better way to end his birthday. Originally he wasn't going to drink too much, but people were being so generous and sending rounds of shots and it would be rude not to slam back at least one, maybe two. By the time he noticed Eva at the bar, he was being dragged up to the stage for a group number and he only agreed because it was a classic. Montell Jordan's, This Is How We Do It. At some point, he noticed Eva wasn't alone and he almost hopped off the stage when he realized who she was talking to, but whoever was next to him, grabbed his shirt to pull him back.

By the last thirty seconds, Puck was so distracted by how fucking hot Eva and Morgan looked, he wasn't even anywhere near a mic and he was just clapping to the beat. When the song finally ended, the birthday boy made his way down to the two people he had been the most interested in seeing tonight. As he approached he saw an energy between them and was way too tipsy and warm to figure out what it was. Finding his way through the rest of the crowd, he smiled as he came to stand between the two. His attention on Eva first, "God damn, you look good." Not that she didn't always look good, leaning down, he put an arm around her waist as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and thanked her for coming. Turning to Morgan he pulled him in for a hug, his hand cupping his beard covered jaw as he pulled away. "I'm fucking honored you came man, I know it's not your scene." Letting his hand linger a little longer before backing up completely, he looked between them. "Were y'all talking about anything interesting?"

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan watched as the realization washed over Eva's face, almost in slow-motion. The way her jaw dropped, it was like he could see when it sank in, and she understood what had happened between Puck and Morgan. It was almost amusing, and he couldn't help but smirk a little bit - he was kind of proud of that conquest. What he just hadn't realized, was that Eva had been there and done that too. It was almost as if Eva's realization about Puck and Morgan was transferred to Morgan. The tape rewound, and instead of it washing over Eva's face, it washed over Morgan's. 

"Are you- the two of you- together, you have-" Morgan stumbled over his words for a bit. 'God, that was so hot,' he thought to himself, and bit down on his bottom lip. As Eva kept going, putting suggestions out on the table, Morgan nodded along slowly, as he understood and picked up what she was putting down. "I think I underst-" Before he could finish that sentence, he was interrupted by the man in focus today, Puck himself, and he watched as he greeted Eva, knowing - and picturing what had gone down between them, in his head. He greeted Puck back with a soft smile, and a gentle 'happy birthday', before turning to look at Eva, the smile slowly turning into a wicked smirk. "Just 'bout your birthday present, man." He said, his gaze shifting focus to read his face and his reactions. "We think you're really gonna like it."

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva grinned at Morgan being tongue tied as he tried to understand what her deal with Puck was. Not that there was even a label for it yet. Maybe friends with benefits, though they hadn't even gotten too deep into the friends thing yet. Same with her and Morgan sort of, so really, she was in a great place with them both for her little idea to spawn into something. And Puck sliding in between them only heightened her interest in this arrangement. Smirking at his compliment, she leaned into the kiss to her cheek. "Thanks, birthday boy." She beamed. Wearing the short, tight-fitting dress had obviously been for Puck's enjoyment and it had worked, but for both of her boys. 

She let Morgan greet Puck as well before he answered the question, clearly on board with her little idea. It made perfect sense really, and with two out of three of them consenting, she didn't think it would be hard to get Puck to do the same. "Considering how many shots I sent you, Puckerman, I'm sure your mind's a little foggy so let me just spell it out for you: Mr. Weston and I were thinking that the three of us should take this party somewhere more...private. We can go back to your place if the kid is gone, but if not, my condo is like fifteen minutes away from here." Eva shrugged.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Standing there, mouth agape, Puck was going over Eva's words in his head, thinking he must have misheard. There was no way she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. What apparently both Eva and Morgan were suggesting. It's something he'd thought about, I mean, you would too if you had the pleasure of experiencing them both separately. They were also two of the hottest people he'd ever seen and standing between them like this, drunk and vulnerable, he felt safe. Looking at them both, Puck really shouldn't have been so surprised. Why else would he have invited them both here knowing he'd want to go home with one equally as much as the other. What was the plan, if not this?

"She's not home but fifteen minutes is closer." Puck finally responded because he wasn't about to question shit and give any of them time to reconsider. It was his 32nd birthday and something told him this was going to be the threesome of his dreams. Especially since it was now obvious that Eva and Morgan clearly had something. Even if he was just a bit of fun on their way to falling in love, he would take it. "I'm ready when you guys are."

MORGAN WESTON

What the hell was happening? This was not something that the cowboy would've done back in Montana. He had sex, obviously, but it was never with two people at once. He was too quiet for that stuff! He didn't know what it was; maybe it was the alcohol circulating his system, or maybe it was LA, having him come out of his shell? Or maybe, it was the fact that he had two insanely hot people, who were feeling the same attractiveness, and the same yearning to be with him, the way that he did for them. They both turned him on so much, in two different ways, and having the opportunity to now mash that together, and have them at the same time was blowing Morgan's mind completely.

He motioned to the bartender that he'd pay for all three tabs, the moment that Puck's words left some sort of confirmation to the group. And while the bartender was ringing it all up, Morgan whipped his phone out, leaving no time at all to do something that he'd only recently learnt how to do; order an uber to take them to Eva's condo. He ordered, paid, and shifted to put his hand on Puck's ass, moving in to whisper in his ear, "happy birthday, man," his breath warm, and his eyes catching the same darkness in Eva's eyes, as he knew he was feeling inside of himself. His phone vibrated in his hand, and his heart jumped once at the excitement getting closer. "Our ride is here, let's go."

EVA ANDERSON 

The way Puck's jaw dropped when the realization hit told Eva everything she needed to know about what his answer would be, as if he could have gone another route even if he'd wanted to. It wasn't every day that this sort of offer was laid out on the table, and even she had yet to partake in this sort of threesome, which was quite the shock to her own system. Being the only female in a threesome had never been propositioned before but now that it was, she was desperate for them to make it happen. Once they received a verbal confirmation from Puck, she smirked in response. "Thank god." She stated, exhaling a small breath she hadn't even known she was holding. The quicker they got somewhere else, the better. 

Morgan jumping right into action and taking care of literally everything was hot as hell, and truthfully, Eva didn't know how she was expected to survive this night when both men were this fucking insatiable. Even just staring at them together was driving her wild, and it felt like it took much longer than it had before Morgan was announcing that their ride was here. "Fucking finally." She groaned, grabbing both of their hands and damn near yanking them out of the bar. Luckily the car was waiting right out front, so she led them over and opened up the back door, climbing inside first. "Let's go, boys!" She beamed before she made sure the driver had her address, needing them to get there as quickly as this damn car could possibly go.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Everything was moving so fast, Puck's drunk mind was processing even slower than usual. It however did register Morgan's hand on his ass, which lowkey kinda hand him wanting to kick his feet and giggle. When Eva grabbed his hand to get in their uber, Puck managed to register that too. Nervous and excited, Puck wasn't sure what the other two's experience with threesome's was but Puck has attempted several and only two have been, what he'd call, successful. Watching as Eva got in, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't gotten slightly distracted by her in the tight ass dress, but he quickly came back to reality, and this was his reality somehow. Getting in next, he found himself holding Morgan's hand to make sure he squeezed his tall ass in the back with them so he could keep a hand on each of them for the ride.

Putting a hand on Eva's thigh, he looked at her and smiled as she gave the driver her address. Already he felt like tonight was going to be a good night. It didn't feel forced or like he was just determined to make a fantasy come true. He'd also never been in this particular setup and had it go well, usually the other dude just wasn't really up for the Devil's Threesome, but he already knew that wouldn't be an issue with Morgan. He also knew there was sexual chemistry between him and Morgan and him and Eva and if the looks those two have been sharing with each other are any indication, Eva and Morgan were no strangers to each other. With those thoughts in his head, he really needed the driver to move a hell of a lot faster.

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan chuckled to himself as Eva grabbed their hands, rushing out past the crowd that had only come for one of the boys that was now leaving. Morgan would've thought it all through, had he been sober, and maybe even felt a little bad about taking him away from his own party, but he was damn attracted to these two people, there was no way his drunk self was going to pass up the opportunity to have them both, in one night. As they reached the car, Morgan followed Puck's gaze, his eyes landing on Eva's ass as she got into the backseat, and it only encouraged his excitement to grow. She was so hot. 

Maybe he blacked out or something, but all of a sudden, Morgan found himself in the back of the car, with the other two. A gentle hand was resting on Puck's thigh, and he couldn't help himself when he leaned in, planting his lips just under the man's earlobe. He kept going down his neck, slowly and softly, as his hand trailed up the birthday boy's thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch. "You smell so good," he murmured against Puck's jaw, and was completely lost in time, having no clue where they were. But time felt like it had gone by so fast, because all of a sudden, the car stopped, and they'd arrived at Eva's address. "Thanks Mr. Driver, have a good night!" Morgan said, and climbed out of the car. "C'mon y'all!" He almost ran up to the building, dragging the two others with him, as he grinned, the excitement of what was about to go down taking over every sense in his tall body.

EVA ANDERSON

With the anticipation clearly growing in all three of them, the drive to her place felt like it lasted much longer than it should have, yet in reality, it hadn't at all. As soon as they arrived and Morgan hopped out and pushed them to do the same, Eva giggled as she pushed Puck out and then let the cowboy lead the way up to her door. She managed to swiftly unlock the front door and shoved it open as she practically ran inside. "Mi casa es su casa...or whatever." She stated and giggled, kicking her heels off right in the doorway. She'd never had two men of their statures in her bed at the same time, but she was sure that the California king would fit all three of them and the positions they were about to get themselves into. 

"I'd ask if either of you need anything to drink, but..we can worry about that kind of thirst later." She hummed as she led them back to her bedroom. "Master bathroom is next door, in case one of you needs it now." She hummed. Luckily her bedroom wasn't a mess and her bed wasn't covered in clothes she'd tossed out from her closet while trying to get ready for the bar, so they were essentially ready to get right down to business. And before either one of them could change their mind (not that she expected them to), Eva turned her back to her boys. "Will one of you unzip me?" She asked, and boy was she thankful that she'd chosen not to wear a bra or panties under this dress tonight since that would've just been fabric for the men to have to get her out of.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

As he felt Morgan's hand on his thigh and his lips against his neck, Puck let his hand creep up Eva's thigh and suddenly the car ride that was taking forever, ended and in the blink of an eye he was in Eva's place, with her standing in front of them asking to be undressed. Like a light switch, Puck looked at Morgan before taking his hand and walking the few steps until they were just behind her. Figuring, as the birthday boy, he deserved the honor, Puck unzipped the dress, quickly noticing a lack of bra. Smiling, he turned Eva around, so she was facing the two men before Puck moved the straps so the dress could fall to the floor. God, she was perfect. A part of him felt like he should be working on getting himself or Morgan undressed too but all he could do was appreciate the true beauty in front of him.

MORGAN WESTON

A sober part of Morgan wished he could have tried this with Eva alone, before getting involved in a threesome with her. The way he knew what made Puck moan a little bit louder, or grab him a little tighter, or what would send him over the edge, he had no idea what he could do, to get the same reaction out of Eva. But Morgan wasn't about to pass on this opportunity; he'd be a damn fool to! He got to have the most attractive people walking on this earth! So instead, his drunk senses would have to sober up, so he could feel his way through all of it, and be the best experience they'd both ever had, wanting to be even better than the last time with the birthday boy! Morgan watched as Puck started unzipping Eva's dress, holding his breath for a second, but then remembering that the two men still had so much clothes on! So he moved in to unbutton Puck's pants, while maintaining deep and focused eye contact with Eva's body, as the dress fell to the ground and revealed the silky smooth skin behind it. He could hear the choir sing. She really was a goddess! "I'm done waiting." Morgan announced, pulling his shirt over his head quickly, and grabbing both of their hands to pull them down onto the bed, chuckling as he did so. 

Breathing heavily, the naked cowboy moved to lay on his back, a hand going up to rest behind his head. "Holy cow..." He managed to breathe out, closing his eyes for a second as he came to his senses. They'd been going at it, for who knows how long, and it had been one of the best orgasms he'd had in his life. There was a light glisten on his body from the sweat, and the moonlight's rays shone in through the blinds, casting the only light on the throuple. He opened his eyes, moved to his side and sat up on his arm, smirking at the other two. "So...round two?"

[glassmarcus]

The Rogue Lite Mexican Stand Off

*All games played in January 2023, Written in November 2023

I've had a backlog of Rogue Lites I planned on checking out for years now. This list keeps growing and I've accepted that I'll never reach the bottom. So I decided to knock out the three I felt were at the top of the genre at the very least. First I played Hades, a title I wasn't super psyched to try because I'm not a huge fan of isometric angles in games. But word of mouth overcame that doubt and I gave it a shot anyway. And yea, the game is aces. I was not led astray. Second on the docket was Rogue Legacy 2. I knew I was going to love this game because of how much I loved the first. To zero shock, I loved Rogue Legacy 2. Last was Dead Cells. A game I was interested in because I heard it be compared to Dark Souls at one point. What got me to finally buy it was the Castlevania DLC which I had to purchase because I'm a huge shill. By the way this game is also pretty good.

I see why this gallery of Rogue Likes are praised so highly and I enjoyed my time with them immensely... But which one is the best? I tried to place them all on the same level in my mind, but that's not how I operate. There needs to be a clear pecking order. A hierarchy must be established and that's exactly what I will do here. I'm going to pit these three Rouge Lites against each other and see who comes out on top. And no, I will not stop using the terms Rogue Lite and Rogue Like interchangeably. I know they are technically different things, but they sound far too similar for me to care. All games that expect you to complete their procedurally generated adventure in a single run are Rogue Likes/ Rogue Lites. That's the definition I'm using here.

In one corner of this Rogue Like Mexican stand off is Hades. Hades is a mechanically efficient masterwork of roguish progression. Not a single aspect is wasted and unpolished. You look at the weapons you get and might think "oh, there's only six of them" only to realize that they only made six because you only need six. Every weapon is completely fleshed out and has its own advantages over others. Swords deal high damage and take out a lot of enemies at once, but require putting yourself in risky situations. The Bow is weaker but safer as you can attack from anywhere in the screen. The Spear is somewhat of a jack of all trades, not as much range as a bow, not as much power as a sword, but enough of both to be worth using. Shields take a different approach in being a middle man by having its normal attack be melee and it's special long range. Fist and Guns act as the gambling man's version of the sword and bow. With Fist, you can get a lot of damage in when you're close, but it's harder to gauge when you should retreat. With Guns you can get way more hits than with the Bow, but you also have to manage your ammo and if you lose count you'll be shit out of luck.

I gotta say, there is no clear best weapon to use. I like the fist the best because obviously I'm gonna gravitate towards the punchy one the most, but I can't say it's strictly better than the others. And I came to this conclusion by naturally trying out every weapon. Hades attributes a point bonus for a random weapon in each run. These points can be used to permanently upgrade yourself between runs. So you have to decide if you want consistency with the weapons you are used to, or invest in the future by trying something new and getting potentially more points. Its a great way to incentivize variety and exploration of the mechanics of the game. The weapon options don't even end there as you get the ability to permanently upgrade your weapons after you've probably found a favorite. And these upgrades can substantially change the way you play as they aren't merely damage increases, but diverse effects that you can take advantage of to great result.

This game could just have these weapons and be perfectly great, but what takes it to the next level are the mid run upgrades you'd expect from any rogue like. Boons, the power gifted from the gods, are what really counts in getting you strong enough to claw your way out of hell. When you understand the advantages of your weapon, the permanent abilities you've acquired, and the effects boons can have, you can figure out which boons cynergize with you the best. As I stated prior, I was a Fist Aficionado. A weapon that hits fast and requires you to get in and out of enemy range. So when I picked boons that worked well with that, I got outstanding results. Abilities that decreased enemy attacks were my go to, because I knew I was going to get hit so I thought I might as well make it hurt less. And figuring out that build myself was when I really started to mesh with Hades. At first I wasn't getting any of the mechanics, flailing around with my standard attack until I dodged. But as I progressed it only kept feeling better to me. They introduce new combat options and improve the old ones. I think the game went from decent to incredible once I got a second Cast.

Cast are such a beautiful mechanic. Somehow both great for single target damage and Area of Effect depending on what boon you choose. But no matter which you choose, it changes the flow of combat due to the fact you have to pick that shit up. Keeping your rhythm despite cast not recharging automatically is the heart of why combat feels so good to me. Calls and Specials are great, but the real heroes are Cast, Attacks, and Dashes. In my experience, that’s actually the order I prioritize these moves. Your cast always have some effect that influences how you attack so that comes first. Then you attack to take advantage of what the cast does. While attacking you are dodging to stay alive. And then the cast wears off and they are left on the ground. And now you must use your attack and dash to navigate through enemies and pick up your cast so you can start the whole thing over again. Once you get into that flow state and start incorporating specials and calls into the equation, the combat of Hades becomes something truly special.

On a gameplay level this is brilliant. And you know what? The story ain't too bad either. Most Rogue Lite stories aren't something to write home about as far as I've experienced. After all, they are kind of the junk food of video games. Short and sweet experiences that don't have time to make an interesting story. Hades is built a bit different. Every run you do progresses the story and everything you do is canon. Games have been explaining away respawning for decades now, but I think this is on a different level. Characters acknowledge the things you did in prior runs. Story lines are moved through both success and failure so there's a palpable sense of progressing delivered in multiple ways. There's dating sim elements. And every character is hot. The story of Hades doesn't just work well, it works in a uniquely video game way. The setting of Hades is roguish in both thematics and mechanics. It's all about taking failure on the chin and accepting any help you can. It drove me to play it even more than I normally would have and made each run unique. It drove me to play it even after I beat it. This game’s story doesn't conclude until you beat it 10 times and I’m not upset about it one bit. You can customized each run's difficulty in a variety of ways after you beat it to add new rewards and content.

It really is a near perfectly crafted game in its genre. The only thing it drops the ball in is music which is a bit underwhelming. Don't remember a damn thing from it. And I've heard praise for the OST too, but it appears to not be my bag. It worked for what the game was going for and it matched the environments well, but it didn't stick with me the way I'd prefer an OST to stick with me. That's really is the only issue about the game I can conjure...but if it was clearly the best one of the three, I wouldn't be writing this.

In the second corner we have Rogue Legacy 2. Rogue Legacy is the inverse of Hades. Its narrative foil in a way. They are both games about overcoming impossible odds with the help from your family and end up being equally powerful despite going separate routes with this premise. Hades is based around Nepotism. You get to know your uncles and cousins throughout the game and your bonds with them push you forward. As such Hades is a more character driven narrative due to how large and important the supporting cast is. The cast in Rogue Legacy 2 is potentially bigger, but they're mostly all the same character. The Premise of Rogue Legacy 2 is that each run follows the latest heir of a family sworn to conquer an evil castle. When you die, you play as your offspring in the next push through the castle. It's a different character technically, with a different class and unique attributes. But one thing is maintained between the end of your last journey and the beginning of your new one: Your Bank Account.

If Hades is about Nepotism, Rogue Legacy is about Inheritance. Your character is given every advantage their predecessors were given and then some, assuring the next generation grows up stronger. Rather than death being equated to a minor setback, it's given real narrative consequence in a way. Every failed run is an echo of your past self. And it's cool that their efforts aren't going to waste. You are carrying the weight of your entire bloodline on your shoulders and it makes it all the more gratifying when you get to your points of respite. It's not as interesting as the standard well written game story, but it's just as powerful as one. When I beat the game and saw 100+ ancestors given their due credit, I felt that shit.

None of this is authentic by the way. Every bit of this was executed in Rogue Legacy 1 prior. The thing is, the sequel is better than that game in every conceivable way that it overwrites its very existence. I'm not exaggerating one bit when I say that there is zero reason to play the first game anymore. I get that it would be embarrassing for a game about improving over generations to not be way better than it's predecessor, but Junior didn't have to go this hard. I'd go as far to say that the first area of Rogue Legacy 2 completely encapsulates the experience of the first game. Everything beyond that point feels fresh and new. So for the remainder of this essay, Rogue Legacy only refers to the second game. It's such a large improvement to an already good game.

Rogue Legacy works because it's unabashedly brutal. Your hit boxes are so small and the enemy hit boxes are so big. Damage values are obscene. Enemies are around every corner and are relentless. Conquering this game is supposed to be difficult so it is designed around failure. It's not fair, but doesn't pretend to be. Your goal is rarely about accomplishing shit on your own and is more about fostering a new generation. Sewing seeds for the future. This game has six areas you need to conquer before gaining access to the final boss. Areas that you can access in a non linear way. It's essentially six separate Rogue Likes glued together. After you beat one area, you can still revisit that area in future runs, only the boss is permanently dead now. Once you've built an heir capable enough, you have the freedom to make short runs where you B-line to the boss or long runs where you scrape each prior area before the showdown. The draw of Rogue Legacy lies in how unlikely it is that you beat it in under a few dozen runs, but because every single run you failed in built towards your eventual victory, it is all the more satisfying.

Rogue Legacy is a game with an insane number of mechanics. Classes, armor, seals, equipment load, bank interest, skill trees, artifacts, upgrades and the list keeps going. Rogue Legacy takes Search Action gameplay and implements systems with the breadth and complexity of a 60 hours long RPG. And it functions perfectly because this is going to be a very looooong game, so the player has time to understand how the systems interact. Unlocking a class you can vibe with and figuring out which abilities and equipment optimize well with it is one of the many joys of Rogue Legacy 2.

Classes define your initial weapons, skills, and spells and additional stats. Class skills and stats basically determine how you're going to play. Weapons are important too, but the skills and stats can't be swapped out the same way weapons and spells can. And much like any craft, they can be improved. You can level up classes by playing them and defeating enemies. This incentivizes focusing on a single class that you've grown fond of so that their base stats will improve. But the random character generation limits your choice in the matter. It forces you to choose different classes. You're always making the best with the hands you are dealt, similar actual genetics. Classes aren't the only thing randomly generated in character creation. Each heir has a genetic trait that has a benefit and drawback. You can be born as a dwarf with shorter weapon range, but makes more money per chest. You can start off with a character who falls slowly, making some sections easier and some a nightmare. Every aspect of build creation of this game has a push and pull.

The armor you buy in this game increases your defense but the set bonus combination for said armors can give you extra stat or ability modifications. Seals are exclusively ability modifications guaranteed to make the game more fun to play with reliable effects. Artifacts fulfill the same purpose a lot of the time, but they are objects you find within the castle runs themselves. Having the right class, armor set, artifacts, and seals can make for a devastating build that will get you far in your adventure. But it's never that simple. Everything in this game has a cost. Armor cost money and ore to make and their weight fills up your maximum armor equip limit. Seals cost money and blood stones and have their own equip limit as well. Artifacts cost resolve and maybe re-rolls to get the best ones, and your resolve lowers if you have too much armor. The lower your resolve gets, the lower your Hit Point Maximum gets, making the character’s stats themselves a form of currency. Nothing in this game is simply handed to you and you have to do everything yourself with the small loan of 1 million gold your dead father gave you.

These systems and how they interact push this to being a phenomenal game, but they wouldn't mean anything without fun gameplay and that is something Rogue Legacy has in spades. Movement is the best part of this game I feel. It really leaned into the Metroidvania aspect. You get powers throughout the game that make world traversal delightful, and become even more fun when you have seals to build off of. Not many games let you do a quintuple jump into a triple air dash, but Rogue Legacy is one of those games. No mechanic you are given is that complicated as they are simply extensions of what you can already do. Attack, Magic, Skill, Dash, and Jump are basically the whole of the gameplay. Just fine tuning those things makes it satisfying to master. But there is one aspect added in this sequel that felt so natural I forgot to list it.

The Spin Kick. The spin kick is essentially a Duck Tales pogo. But you don't get that much height from it. But what it loses in height, it makes up for in surface area. You can spin kick basically any thing in this game so long as long as it's physical or electrical matter. Enemies, projectiles, weird candelabras, are all spin kick approved. Think Cup Head parry, but exclusively down ward, which doesn't seem that great, but it's a platformer essentially. You are jumping a lot. It's really not that different from attacks coming from the side when you are in mid air so much of the time any way. This platformer parry is utilized throughout the whole game to making interesting level obstacles and boss patterns. It is the unsung hero of this game and 3 playthroughs later, I'm still finding joy in executing it.

It's very hard for things in Rogue Legacy to overstay their welcome. Even the procedural level design remains fresh. Lots of variety in the rooms. It's not only a series of corridors where you have to kill enemies in a generated mini level. Some rooms are puzzles. Some are platforming challenges. Some are gauntlets and mini bosses. Some are purely story related. Also the 6 level motifs are distinct both visually and how they are designed. Level 2 almost entirely horizontal while the last area feels like a true dungeon crawler due to how dark and dangerous it is. I wasn't kidding before. Rogue Legacy 2 is 6 Rogue Legacy sequels stuffed into 1 game. And the post game adds another layer to that variety. One of the best parts about a long dev cycle is that entire trends go by in the middle of it. And because of that the creators can be given new ideas. Rogue Legacy blatantly takes the same post game ideas displayed in Dark Souls and Hades and injects it into itself. Rogue Legacy waited until the last moment to turn in its homework and then unabashedly copied off its classmates for an easy A. And god bless it for doing so. With the scaling and customizable difficulty, expansion of rewards and enemies, and completely unique bonus challenges, I'm gonna be playing this one for a long time.

So clearly I enjoy these two games a lot. But what about Dead Cells? What does it bring to the table? What can it do to stand up to these titans. Well. Honestly not much. If Hades is Angel Eyes, and Rogue Legacy is Blondie, then Dead Cells is Tuco stuck in the stand off with an unloaded gun.

Dead Cells is a good game. It looks better than Rogue Legacy. I might enjoy the gameplay more than Hades. But that's where the advantages end. And I'll be honest I haven't spent enough time with this game to truly have scholars opinion on it, thus I can’t write paragraph about its design. But that's kind of the problem. I beat this game in 4 runs. I'm no god at gaming. I'm slightly above average on a good day. The fact that I stumbled upon the ending of this game so early is disappointing. Rogue Legacy, I died a hundred deaths before reaching credits. Hades took me around 14 to beat the first time. Dead Cells gave it away and it was so deflating. I didn't work towards anything. I just sort of won. I never even died to a single boss. Once I upgraded how many estus I could hold, the only thing that mattered was the pick ups I got during the run. I'm sure if I go back there is way more to the game, but after seeing the credits I kind lost all motivation to play it. It's not fair to the game that I did that, but that's how I feel and I got other things to do with my time. It’s too bad I had the idea of comparing these three games before playing all of them.

So it all comes down to Rogue Legacy 2 and Hades. Hades has untouchable presentation and succeeds in everything it attempts with grace in a way that Rogue Legacy 2 doesn't. I can't really break down why, there's an air about it that makes it feel more thought out and seamless. But...I value what Rogue Legacy 2 is more as a game and more over, as a Rogue Like. Sure I like 2D games more than isometric games, but even beyond that, Rogue Legacy has a layer of exploration that pushes it over for me. I find it far more replayable. Hades likely has more condensed quality, but the quantity of Rogue Legacy makes up for it, and quantity is a bit more important for the genre honestly. The depth in content for Hades lies more in the story after you've beaten it, while Rogue Legacy is more in the gameplay. There are more things to do and experience, so it has more value to me. It was likely obvious what my preference was due to how I wrote more about it and made that spot on Dollars Trilogy Reference, but I couldn't really hide it. It's just that damn good.

[gallavich-headcanon]

i just had this pop into my mind and had to share with someone, please bear with me♡♡

what if one day ian decides to go to a therapist, its his first visit probably a couple weeks maybe months after the wedding and he comes back home and tells mickey about it

he gets into the kitchen, kisses mickey and starts talking after a single "how was it" from his husband, thats all he needs cus hes been thinking the whole session over all the new information settling in his brain, things he already knew and a lot of things he needs to look into. as is always the case with ian, when hes excited/emotional about a topic, he gets really into it, and though this topic is a bit bittersweet to him, it's also really interesting. the different approaches the therapist told him about, the sheer variety of therapy types he needs to do some research on should be overwhelming, and it is a little bit but its also fascinating to him, and so he tell mickey all about it. starting with the therapist and how the meeting went and going into the technicalities of therapy types and so on. It's a lot of information, but ian knows mickey will hear him out even if he talks for a long time.

except mickey isnt exactly listening, not because he doesnt care (he cares a lot and will ask ian questions about everything later) but cus his mind is wandering around admiring how hot ian looks all passionate and sexy. its always been so attractive to mickey when ian talks about things hes interested in, especially if he knows a lot on whatever topic hes talking about. mickey is not a weak man, but when ian gets like that, he's a lovestruck idiot that still can't believe he gets to spend the rest of his life with the redhead.

and so mickey only gets back to earth by the end of ians story

'(...) yea, so she said i should try looking into cbt, ya know?'

mickey freezes for a second, he might not know a lot about the whole therapy thing but cbt is definitely a term hes accustomed with

"... you mean like the torture?" he asks eyebrows high on his forehead.

"no, like the thera- wait, what do you mean torture?!" ians now looking at him like he grew a second head.

"well, you said cbt, right?" ian nods warily, not certain where his husband is going with the sentence "...cbt stands for cock and ball torture, no?" as mickey finishes his sentence he can see his husbands eyes grow wider. fuck, he shouldve been listening instead of daydreaming this is definitely not what ian was talking about.

"mickey, honey, you think my therapist would recommend cock and ball torture as a form of therapy?" the redhead looks at him incredulously but theres no condescension or pity in his voice like there could be if someone else was explaining something to mickey and he didnt get it. it was teasing, not in a mean way just the usual teasing they were both so familiar with, the way that came with smirks and goading each other on and ended in very hot sex (especially if it was mickey being bratty).

"i mean i dont know, maybe itd help or somethin'" he was smirking now too, his husband approaching him slowly and pinning him to the counter.

"you werent listening at all, huh? what got you so distracted that you couldnt even listen to your husband?" they were face to face, ians hands steady on his hips.

------

thats all i got jdbcjd but i imagine it would end with ian punishing mickey for not listening (in a sexy way ofc) and then afterwards theyd actually talk about the therapy and ian would explain to mickey what cbt stands, besides cock and ball torture jdbxj

ohoh and mickey would totally check out all the different therapy types when ians not home/not around him, partially cus he wanted to know more about what therapy would be like for ian but also cus hes thinking of getting a therapist himself and mickey is nothing if not thorough so he obviously needs to see what hed potentially be getting himself into

okay thats actually all i wanted to say, i hope you dont mind the lengthy message from a stranger i just really love your headcanons and this is the first one i had in a loooooooong time and km pretty sure its thanks to you so yea jdbdj just wanted to share and say thank you♡♡♡♡

Hello my darling! Welcome welcome!

We support Ian and Mickey getting the professional help that they need in this blog!

I agree that Ian will just wait for the tiniest que from Mickey to start blabbering away! I feel like when it comes to Ian’s mental health it’s not like him for Mickey to not be in focus, you know? I mean, Mickey is still human, with eyes that can see his gorgeous husband, so it does make sense. Just a bit out of character.

Hahaha not Mickey thinking cock and ball torture might be a treatment for bipolar disorder 😂 I wonder if he would have gone with it if there were studies to back that theory up. I think he loves Ian’s dick so much that it would make him sad to hurt it.

Ah cocky Ian back at it again! I LOVE it when Ian catches Mickey flustered and teases him about it. There’s some switch in Ian’s brain that flicks and he goes into his dominant mode. Mickey triggers it by accident all of the time.

cus hes thinking of getting a therapist himself and mickey is nothing if not thorough so he obviously needs to see what hed potentially be getting himself into -> yesss! Mickey deciding to go to therapy. I always love to read people’s headcanons about how he chooses to tell Ian about it.

lengthy messages from a strangers are my favorite! (You don’t have to be a stranger though) always tell me your headcanons please! I love hearing them 🖤

[handgunman]

I need you to understand, there are *no longterm solutions* to unwanted weightgain if that weightgain isnt caused by a medication that can be changed, or a metabolism changing health condition.

And even then, even when the medication is changed, and the *rare* underlying health condition is treated, *even then* that might not be a solution.

Its not that it isnt easy, its not that it isnt accessible, its that *long term solutions for being "overweight" do not exist*, and *trying to make that weight go away is an active cause for gaining more weight long term*

I know, from following basic science, that intense activity burns the calories stored in the fat cells that are this gained weight.

I know that ability to lead an "active lifestyle" is something that builds up over time, as muscle growth and stamina develop.

When I say that I continue to believe long-term solutions _do_ exist, it is the combination of these two facts creating the knowledge that it is technically possible for someone to make a lifestyle change like becoming a runner who does 10 miles a day. And doing so would change their weight.

And I do _not_ say that you can just jog off all the pounds and stop now, you're done. It's a long-term solution, _the solution itself_, you have to keep jogging "forever" to maintain this new body and fitness. I know from my own brief stint with having muscles that "fitness" requires perpetual active maintenance.

This is not an easy solution. This is a solution that can be rendered inaccessible to people by a variety of factors, personaland social. And even someone "able" to enact this solution HAS EVERY RIGHT NOT TO DO SO, it will _suck_. But if you want to tell me walking/running every day _for the rest of your life_ will leave you 400lbs at the end, I'm going to need to see an actual citation.

The confounding factor in this is the question of sufficient will, but it's a philosophical issue at that point. A drug addict _can_ quit cold turkey, any human _can_, at any point, cease moving and lay motionless on the ground until death(or, circling back, cease eating all but the barest minimum of food). The fact that most people lack the will to do so may make these solutions inviable or seem "impossible" but the option is always there.

And it's because we all have difficult options we could never bring ourselves to take, that I know that someone's problem being technically fixable is no excuse for jumping in trying to fix it for them unsolicited, or blaming/bullying them for still facing the issue, (or for complaining about the issue).

(A solution you wont accept is not a solution that doesn't exist, but noone should ever be being pressured to take an unacceptable path)

[janatm]

1, 2, 3, not only you & me || THROUPLE

tagging: Morgan Weston, Eva Anderson and Noah Puckerman

date & time: Friday, August 9, 2024 after 9 pm

location: A local bar & Eva's condo

warnings: none!

summary: Originally posted by Shae - Two hot people enter the bar with technically the same birthday present for the birthday boy, so they decide to turn it into a threesome. There’s no smut under here, we decided to fade to black because writing a threesome is too much work for us but pretend this is the steamiest sex of your life under this read more anyways.

word count: 4,275

MORGAN WESTON

“Delta Dawn, what’s that flower you have on? Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?” The infamous Tanya Tucker song blared out through the speakers. The sober people in the room probably wished that it was actually the Tanya Tucker version that was being belted out, but alas, it was not. Instead, it was some drunk lady, with a bottle of Budweiser - king of beers, after all - in one hand, and a microphone in the other, misreading the words on the screen, from the karaoke software. Morgan laughed to himself. Of course Puck would be celebrating his birthday at a bar with karaoke. A variety of songs had made sure the party was going strong, and “Delta Dawn” was no exception. 

People cheered for the drunk lady - they were probably also drunk - and Morgan took a swig of his own beer and looked around, spotting a seemingly happy birthday boy. Puck and him hadn’t seen much of each other since the day they slept together, but that didn’t mean that Morgan was upset, by any means. It just meant that there was more catching up to do. Heading towards him, the tall cowboy took several long strides, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a group of people instantly swarming him with birthday wishes. Morgan took another sip of his beer, and thought about what to do. He was in the middle of the room, and he looked pretty awkward, he figured. So instead, he tried to spot a way out of the situation. And there she was. He could spot her from a thousand miles away, he was sure of it. “Ms Anderson,” Morgan greeted her, in their silly little way, as he walked up to her, with a smirk on his bearded face. “Are ya here for Puck’s birthday too?”

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva hated karaoke, even more so while she was sober and her vision was 100% clear as day. Maybe it stemmed from having a musically inclined family, but hearing people who were tone deaf attempting to belt out songs she probably didn’t know or hated was the worst kind of torture. She was only here for Puck, and that was the only thing that had guided her feet into this godforsaken place and right over to the bar. She’d even tipped the bartender a few extra bills to send a tray of shots over to Puck while she was being served bottomless Dirty Martinis — extra dirty in terms of less juice and more gin. As soon as he started putting them down in front of her, she was tossing them back before he could even start working on the next one. 

The crowd around Puck wasn’t a surprise since he was so damn popular these days, and she didn’t mind having to busy herself with some other people she knew, or had exchanged a few posts with online before finally meeting in person. Everyone seemed to be keeping the convos light while they sipped on their own alcohol, so it was decent enough company until she felt the need to push her way through the crowd to get to the birthday boy. Luckily that issue was pushed aside when she saw Morgan coming her way, and she couldn’t have contained the glowing look on her face even if she’d wanted to (which she obviously didn’t). “Hi, Mr. Weston.” Eva beamed. God, she needed to unpack why she could turn into a bit of a puddle around only two attractive, tall ass men, but tonight wasn’t the night to analyze that shit. “I am, but I didn’t know you and Puck knew one another too.” She hummed. “I’m surprised to see you at a packed bar, but I’m also jealous that Puck is apparently special enough to make this happen.” She stated and frowned. “How do you two know each other?”

MORGAN WESTON

The way Eva looked tonight - ‘oh, to hell with it’, Morgan thought, 'the way Eva looked all the time’ was enough to turn even the worst of days into the best ones, for the tall man. And then, her reaction to him, the way she greeted him, the tone of her voice with that smile mixed in, had him weak in the knees and stumbling, as he tried to casually lean against the big bar. If she asked, he’d blame it on the alcohol, and the amount of beers he’d had tonight. Grinning back at her, he took the last sip of his beer, before putting the bottle on the bar, and signaling to the bartender to get him another one, as well as another of whatever Eva was drinking. 

Morgan leaned in so he wouldn’t have to shout over the drunk karaoke lady, the height difference between them more apparent than ever when he did so. “We met at the mixer - like you and I,” He started the story, and maybe it was because he was a little tipsy, but he felt confident in himself. “We kinda hit it off right away. He came over once. Y'know…” The bartender came around with the drinks, and Morgan took another sip of his beer, turning to look at the guy everyone had come here for. “He’s a good-looking man, Puck is.” He turned back to look at the girl that kept enchanting him with her ways of just being. Morgan was hoping that she was good at reading in between the lines of what he was saying, so that he didn’t have to flat out say 'we fucked’, because what kind of southern gentleman would do that? “Eva, have ya ever heard the song 'Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other’?”

EVA ANDERSON

If there was always one thing Eva could depend on when it came to Morgan, it was probably his ability to always look at her and make her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was in the top three for sure, that much she knew, yet that gleam in his eye certainly felt like she was in the number one spot. It also helped that she seemed to leave him just as flushed, which wasn’t a rare occurrence for her to get that response in return, it was just foreign for it to be mutual. She bit her lip as he leaned in closer, already spiraling from the close proximity. Had it not been for the cheers around the bar for that horrible performance on stage, she might have completely forgotten the real reason why she was here and made a move on the man right there at the bar. 

She hadn’t been anticipating much for Morgan and Puck’s first meeting aside from some little meet cute where two tall, hot men probably made jokes about being the tallest in the room or some other masculine thing men do when they met other dudes, so her jaw was damn near on the floor as she followed along with where this story was going. Morgan didn’t even have to spell it out himself as the song did just that, and she nodded her head slowly. “The gay cowboy song.” She stated once her jaw was back intact. How her gaydar had missed this, she’d never know. “Wait — are you here to give Puck another round as a birthday present?” Eva questioned, and as soon as the words left her mouth, a light bulb went off in her head. “If you are, I was about to tell you that you’ll have to get in line behind me…but there’s three attractive bisexuals here, one birthday boy, and we’re giving him similar birthday presents, so…” Her words trailed off there as she smirked up at the cowboy, figuring he’d catch where she was going with this.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Today had been a fucking awesome day and unlike most people, Puck actually liked karaoke. Yeah it was loud and most people couldn’t sing, but the vibes were always right and the energy was always good. It was fun and people were drunk and celebrating him, so as far as the now thirty-two year old was concerned, there was no better way to end his birthday. Originally he wasn’t going to drink too much, but people were being so generous and sending rounds of shots and it would be rude not to slam back at least one, maybe two. By the time he noticed Eva at the bar, he was being dragged up to the stage for a group number and he only agreed because it was a classic. Montell Jordan’s, This Is How We Do It. At some point, he noticed Eva wasn’t alone and he almost hopped off the stage when he realized who she was talking to, but whoever was next to him, grabbed his shirt to pull him back.

By the last thirty seconds, Puck was so distracted by how fucking hot Eva and Morgan looked, he wasn’t even anywhere near a mic and he was just clapping to the beat. When the song finally ended, the birthday boy made his way down to the two people he had been the most interested in seeing tonight. As he approached he saw an energy between them and was way too tipsy and warm to figure out what it was. Finding his way through the rest of the crowd, he smiled as he came to stand between the two. His attention on Eva first, “God damn, you look good.” Not that she didn’t always look good, leaning down, he put an arm around her waist as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and thanked her for coming. Turning to Morgan he pulled him in for a hug, his hand cupping his beard covered jaw as he pulled away. “I’m fucking honored you came man, I know it’s not your scene.” Letting his hand linger a little longer before backing up completely, he looked between them. “Were y'all talking about anything interesting?”

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan watched as the realization washed over Eva’s face, almost in slow-motion. The way her jaw dropped, it was like he could see when it sank in, and she understood what had happened between Puck and Morgan. It was almost amusing, and he couldn’t help but smirk a little bit - he was kind of proud of that conquest. What he just hadn’t realized, was that Eva had been there and done that too. It was almost as if Eva’s realization about Puck and Morgan was transferred to Morgan. The tape rewound, and instead of it washing over Eva’s face, it washed over Morgan’s. 

“Are you- the two of you- together, you have-” Morgan stumbled over his words for a bit. 'God, that was so hot,’ he thought to himself, and bit down on his bottom lip. As Eva kept going, putting suggestions out on the table, Morgan nodded along slowly, as he understood and picked up what she was putting down. “I think I underst-” Before he could finish that sentence, he was interrupted by the man in focus today, Puck himself, and he watched as he greeted Eva, knowing - and picturing what had gone down between them, in his head. He greeted Puck back with a soft smile, and a gentle 'happy birthday’, before turning to look at Eva, the smile slowly turning into a wicked smirk. “Just 'bout your birthday present, man.” He said, his gaze shifting focus to read his face and his reactions. “We think you’re really gonna like it.”

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva grinned at Morgan being tongue tied as he tried to understand what her deal with Puck was. Not that there was even a label for it yet. Maybe friends with benefits, though they hadn’t even gotten too deep into the friends thing yet. Same with her and Morgan sort of, so really, she was in a great place with them both for her little idea to spawn into something. And Puck sliding in between them only heightened her interest in this arrangement. Smirking at his compliment, she leaned into the kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, birthday boy.” She beamed. Wearing the short, tight-fitting dress had obviously been for Puck’s enjoyment and it had worked, but for both of her boys. 

She let Morgan greet Puck as well before he answered the question, clearly on board with her little idea. It made perfect sense really, and with two out of three of them consenting, she didn’t think it would be hard to get Puck to do the same. “Considering how many shots I sent you, Puckerman, I’m sure your mind’s a little foggy so let me just spell it out for you: Mr. Weston and I were thinking that the three of us should take this party somewhere more…private. We can go back to your place if the kid is gone, but if not, my condo is like fifteen minutes away from here.” Eva shrugged.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Standing there, mouth agape, Puck was going over Eva’s words in his head, thinking he must have misheard. There was no way she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. What apparently both Eva and Morgan were suggesting. It’s something he’d thought about, I mean, you would too if you had the pleasure of experiencing them both separately. They were also two of the hottest people he’d ever seen and standing between them like this, drunk and vulnerable, he felt safe. Looking at them both, Puck really shouldn’t have been so surprised. Why else would he have invited them both here knowing he’d want to go home with one equally as much as the other. What was the plan, if not this?

“She’s not home but fifteen minutes is closer.” Puck finally responded because he wasn’t about to question shit and give any of them time to reconsider. It was his 32nd birthday and something told him this was going to be the threesome of his dreams. Especially since it was now obvious that Eva and Morgan clearly had something. Even if he was just a bit of fun on their way to falling in love, he would take it. “I’m ready when you guys are.”

MORGAN WESTON

What the hell was happening? This was not something that the cowboy would’ve done back in Montana. He had sex, obviously, but it was never with two people at once. He was too quiet for that stuff! He didn’t know what it was; maybe it was the alcohol circulating his system, or maybe it was LA, having him come out of his shell? Or maybe, it was the fact that he had two insanely hot people, who were feeling the same attractiveness, and the same yearning to be with him, the way that he did for them. They both turned him on so much, in two different ways, and having the opportunity to now mash that together, and have them at the same time was blowing Morgan’s mind completely.

He motioned to the bartender that he’d pay for all three tabs, the moment that Puck’s words left some sort of confirmation to the group. And while the bartender was ringing it all up, Morgan whipped his phone out, leaving no time at all to do something that he’d only recently learnt how to do; order an uber to take them to Eva’s condo. He ordered, paid, and shifted to put his hand on Puck’s ass, moving in to whisper in his ear, “happy birthday, man,” his breath warm, and his eyes catching the same darkness in Eva’s eyes, as he knew he was feeling inside of himself. His phone vibrated in his hand, and his heart jumped once at the excitement getting closer. “Our ride is here, let’s go.”

EVA ANDERSON 

The way Puck’s jaw dropped when the realization hit told Eva everything she needed to know about what his answer would be, as if he could have gone another route even if he’d wanted to. It wasn’t every day that this sort of offer was laid out on the table, and even she had yet to partake in this sort of threesome, which was quite the shock to her own system. Being the only female in a threesome had never been propositioned before but now that it was, she was desperate for them to make it happen. Once they received a verbal confirmation from Puck, she smirked in response. “Thank god.” She stated, exhaling a small breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. The quicker they got somewhere else, the better. 

Morgan jumping right into action and taking care of literally everything was hot as hell, and truthfully, Eva didn’t know how she was expected to survive this night when both men were this fucking insatiable. Even just staring at them together was driving her wild, and it felt like it took much longer than it had before Morgan was announcing that their ride was here. “Fucking finally.” She groaned, grabbing both of their hands and damn near yanking them out of the bar. Luckily the car was waiting right out front, so she led them over and opened up the back door, climbing inside first. “Let’s go, boys!” She beamed before she made sure the driver had her address, needing them to get there as quickly as this damn car could possibly go.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

Everything was moving so fast, Puck’s drunk mind was processing even slower than usual. It however did register Morgan’s hand on his ass, which lowkey kinda hand him wanting to kick his feet and giggle. When Eva grabbed his hand to get in their uber, Puck managed to register that too. Nervous and excited, Puck wasn’t sure what the other two’s experience with threesome’s was but Puck has attempted several and only two have been, what he’d call, successful. Watching as Eva got in, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t gotten slightly distracted by her in the tight ass dress, but he quickly came back to reality, and this was his reality somehow. Getting in next, he found himself holding Morgan’s hand to make sure he squeezed his tall ass in the back with them so he could keep a hand on each of them for the ride.

Putting a hand on Eva’s thigh, he looked at her and smiled as she gave the driver her address. Already he felt like tonight was going to be a good night. It didn’t feel forced or like he was just determined to make a fantasy come true. He’d also never been in this particular setup and had it go well, usually the other dude just wasn’t really up for the Devil’s Threesome, but he already knew that wouldn’t be an issue with Morgan. He also knew there was sexual chemistry between him and Morgan and him and Eva and if the looks those two have been sharing with each other are any indication, Eva and Morgan were no strangers to each other. With those thoughts in his head, he really needed the driver to move a hell of a lot faster.

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan chuckled to himself as Eva grabbed their hands, rushing out past the crowd that had only come for one of the boys that was now leaving. Morgan would’ve thought it all through, had he been sober, and maybe even felt a little bad about taking him away from his own party, but he was damn attracted to these two people, there was no way his drunk self was going to pass up the opportunity to have them both, in one night. As they reached the car, Morgan followed Puck’s gaze, his eyes landing on Eva’s ass as she got into the backseat, and it only encouraged his excitement to grow. She was so hot. 

Maybe he blacked out or something, but all of a sudden, Morgan found himself in the back of the car, with the other two. A gentle hand was resting on Puck’s thigh, and he couldn’t help himself when he leaned in, planting his lips just under the man’s earlobe. He kept going down his neck, slowly and softly, as his hand trailed up the birthday boy’s thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch. “You smell so good,” he murmured against Puck’s jaw, and was completely lost in time, having no clue where they were. But time felt like it had gone by so fast, because all of a sudden, the car stopped, and they’d arrived at Eva’s address. “Thanks Mr. Driver, have a good night!” Morgan said, and climbed out of the car. “C'mon y'all!” He almost ran up to the building, dragging the two others with him, as he grinned, the excitement of what was about to go down taking over every sense in his tall body.

EVA ANDERSON

With the anticipation clearly growing in all three of them, the drive to her place felt like it lasted much longer than it should have, yet in reality, it hadn’t at all. As soon as they arrived and Morgan hopped out and pushed them to do the same, Eva giggled as she pushed Puck out and then let the cowboy lead the way up to her door. She managed to swiftly unlock the front door and shoved it open as she practically ran inside. “Mi casa es su casa…or whatever.” She stated and giggled, kicking her heels off right in the doorway. She’d never had two men of their statures in her bed at the same time, but she was sure that the California king would fit all three of them and the positions they were about to get themselves into. 

“I’d ask if either of you need anything to drink, but..we can worry about that kind of thirst later.” She hummed as she led them back to her bedroom. “Master bathroom is next door, in case one of you needs it now.” She hummed. Luckily her bedroom wasn’t a mess and her bed wasn’t covered in clothes she’d tossed out from her closet while trying to get ready for the bar, so they were essentially ready to get right down to business. And before either one of them could change their mind (not that she expected them to), Eva turned her back to her boys. “Will one of you unzip me?” She asked, and boy was she thankful that she’d chosen not to wear a bra or panties under this dress tonight since that would’ve just been fabric for the men to have to get her out of.

NOAH PUCKERMAN

As he felt Morgan’s hand on his thigh and his lips against his neck, Puck let his hand creep up Eva’s thigh and suddenly the car ride that was taking forever, ended and in the blink of an eye he was in Eva’s place, with her standing in front of them asking to be undressed. Like a light switch, Puck looked at Morgan before taking his hand and walking the few steps until they were just behind her. Figuring, as the birthday boy, he deserved the honor, Puck unzipped the dress, quickly noticing a lack of bra. Smiling, he turned Eva around, so she was facing the two men before Puck moved the straps so the dress could fall to the floor. God, she was perfect. A part of him felt like he should be working on getting himself or Morgan undressed too but all he could do was appreciate the true beauty in front of him.

MORGAN WESTON

A sober part of Morgan wished he could have tried this with Eva alone, before getting involved in a threesome with her. The way he knew what made Puck moan a little bit louder, or grab him a little tighter, or what would send him over the edge, he had no idea what he could do, to get the same reaction out of Eva. But Morgan wasn’t about to pass on this opportunity; he’d be a damn fool to! He got to have the most attractive people walking on this earth! So instead, his drunk senses would have to sober up, so he could feel his way through all of it, and be the best experience they’d both ever had, wanting to be even better than the last time with the birthday boy! Morgan watched as Puck started unzipping Eva’s dress, holding his breath for a second, but then remembering that the two men still had so much clothes on! So he moved in to unbutton Puck’s pants, while maintaining deep and focused eye contact with Eva’s body, as the dress fell to the ground and revealed the silky smooth skin behind it. He could hear the choir sing. She really was a goddess! “I’m done waiting.” Morgan announced, pulling his shirt over his head quickly, and grabbing both of their hands to pull them down onto the bed, chuckling as he did so. 

Breathing heavily, the naked cowboy moved to lay on his back, a hand going up to rest behind his head. “Holy cow…” He managed to breathe out, closing his eyes for a second as he came to his senses. They’d been going at it, for who knows how long, and it had been one of the best orgasms he’d had in his life. There was a light glisten on his body from the sweat, and the moonlight’s rays shone in through the blinds, casting the only light on the throuple. He opened his eyes, moved to his side and sat up on his arm, smirking at the other two. “So…round two?”

[unknownjpegs]

sound

Lark smooths the flyer across the cork board. It’s placed strategically at the front door of the bookshop, where dog walker needed! and sublet available - smoke and bug-free unit! requests clutter together. Half of the flyers have numbers torn from the bottom, recent dates; good sign that they’ll get a bit of traction. 

“This is lame as fuck.” 

Lark whips around, scowling furiously. “You’re lame as fuck, dude. Shut up, shouldn’t you love this shit? It’s like…grassroots.”

Benji, leaning against the wall opposite, gestures rudely with the cigarette tucked between middle and index. Unlit, because the little entryway is technically indoors; Lark wants to tease him for that. Most of the time, he doesn’t give any sort of fuck about social rules. But Lark’s known him long enough that he’s a stickler for that sort of thing. Wouldn’t dare smoke around people who don’t expect it — unless they deserve it, of course, and then it’s a solid lungful blown right in the face. 

“Y’think we’re going to find the next music genius in—“

“We don’t need a genius, we just need a fucking—“

“I was speakin’, bastard, you think we’re gonna find ‘em in fuckin’ Nowhere, Midwest?”

The front door suddenly opens, bringing in a shock of January chill. Benji and Lark silence in tandem, politely dipping their chins as a stranger squeezes past them in the narrow entry.

The moment they move into the warm interior of the bookstore, their eyes snap back together.

“That’s classist.”

Benji sucks his teeth, rolls his eyes to look away. “Ah, off yourself, mate.”

“Awf yerrrrself.”

They bicker the entire walk back to the shitty temp rental, shoving shoulders and jabbing elbows into whatever vulnerably, fleshy parts they can reach. 

(Benji has more of those bits, so the fight is not fucking fair, and he loses by surrender. Loser pays dinner; burritos don’t taste nearly as good as when he’s managed to headlock them out of Lark.)

*

They get a few responses to Lark’s hand drawn call-for-musicians poster. And Benji had teased him over it, sure. Gave him a real hard time because it was funny to see his friend’s usually stoic face twist up in contrite annoyance. 

But it’s a good poster. He’ll admit that if prompted, and definitely not of his own accord. Not as satisfying, that way.

The responses are mostly shit. Not shit, shit. But shit in the way that, Benji could never see it working out. Lark’s thinking about music, about logistics of another member, of splitting evenly (pretending to grit his teeth about it), of sound and influence and production. Benji’s thinking of survivability. His, a little, but mostly Lark’s — it’s not as if he’s hard to get along with.

Well. Sometimes he is.

But no, Benji is careful because Lark won’t do it for himself. He might not get on with somebody long term. They might give him shit about…fuck, a variety of different things. Lark might be thinking sound, but Benji’s thinking Lark. It’s not a matter of jealousy (it sort of is), but protectiveness.

Benji glares at every single person who texts for a try-out, sits and watches them with arms folded, eyes stern, mouth deliberately unimpressed. That makes a few people anxious, makes them fuck up; tells Benji they couldn’t deal with the shit they’ve got to deal with. And it also makes a few people mad. That tells Benji he’ll bump heads with them. He knows from experience that he can goad a short fuse into a quick explosion, also knows Lark will feel obligated to pick up the mess. Sore for things to go smoothly, that one — even at the cost of himself. 

There’s only one person that neither shies away or snarls at Benji. 

*

‘Course it’d be you, he thinks, watching the willowy girl unpack an expensive looking foam-lined case of equipment. Lucky little bastard. Course you’re the one I end up liking the best. You’re fuckin’ welcome, Lark.

“Cool,” Benji gestures at the midi board controller she pulls free. Neon blue transparent acrylic casing, shiny aluminum knobs — looks custom. Looks about twice the amount of money they get paid for four shows.

“Thanks. It was a gift from my ex-girlfriend,” the girl says. She moves about, plugging in wires and adjusting some knobs on the board, walking back and forth. The speakers whine and then steady in stand-by static. 

“What’s this for?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you guys are hot.” She tosses hair over her shoulder, folding into a well-balanced squat above the wires. “But I saw you play at Tonya’s last week. For emo night? Jesus, that was cringe. You looked hot, but it was cringe. And it sounded like shit. It’s okay to sound a little shitty if you’re hot. Plenty of successful men do.”

She turns around and gestures at them, knuckles curling against a popped hip. Stood slightly behind her, Benji can see the way Lark’s focus drops there and then snaps immediately back up. He makes a really? face around her shoulder, and Lark’s cheeks go pink.

“Why do you care?”

She rolls her eyes, and for a second Benji has the impression of looking in a mirror. 

“Because you sound good and there’s potential. Did I say I didn’t enjoy your set? No. I just said it sounded like shit.” Her sharp chin tilts up, defiant and proud. Benji notes a twin pair of delicate brown moles underneath, and for some reason finds that charming. 

“And you can help.” 

Matilda’s bright, intelligent eyes go sharp. “Oh my God, ew. Are you going to like, ask my top favorite rock and/or punk bands of the lsat twenty years, followed by album ranking, followed by thirty-two minimum Laura Jane Grace quotes?” She points a slim finger at Benji. “You just got ten percent less hot.”

Benji raises his eyebrows, meets Lark’s gaze. Or tries to — it wavers near the neckline of Matilda’s sweater, which hangs off one pale shoulder. 

After she shows them some of her mixing, plays through a song of theirs that she has already memorized, Lark yanks Benji aside around the kitchen corner. Benji knows the flat isn’t that big; there’s not a doubt in his mind that Matilda can hear every eager, excited word out of his mouth. He doesn’t say so. And Lark schools himself as carefully neutral as possible when they return, offers her no more than a relaxed, cool shrug of his shoulder.

“What the dickhead means to say,” Benji says, tossing an arm heavily around his neck, “is that he would really really like if you played a few gigs with us. Nothin’ big, yeah? Just a bar or two. Trial run.”

“Trial run.” Matilda says to Lark, as if Benji isn’t even in the room at all.

She takes her time packing up, offering Benji a few chatty details of her life, her experience, her favorite music. Lark watches from the corner, pretending to be occupied with his phone. When she’s ready to head out, Matilda stops in front of Lark, perched on his preferred stool. She’s very close to him, her bare knees nearly brushing between his. Benji feels like he should look away. It feels like private intimacy.

“I date men too, by the way.” She informs him. Her mouth is tilted in a confident smirk. Lark blushes. Benji tosses his head back and laughs.

Once she’s gone, Benji puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“You can’t bring her on just because you think she’s hot,” he says, watching Lark wind a cable around his hand to pack it up.

“I’m not,” he says, defensive but dead-serious, with a glare aimed at Benji. “She’s really good, dude. Genuinely. It’d be an insult to bring her on just ‘cuz —”

He falters, blinks rapidly, and goes as pink as he’d been with her in the room.

“Because?” Benji prompts, eyebrows up. 

“Fuck you.”

*

Their first gig goes incredibly, and Lark knows right away that she’s meant to be with them. Meant to play together. And it doesn’t hurt that afterwards, they sit in the post-rain wet parking lot, looking up at a scheduled meteor shower. They swap songs until Benji comes to complain about the hour, until the air gets too chilly, until Matilda hops from foot to foot rubbing her shoulders, bouncing a bit to the last suggestion blaring from Lark’s phone. Until he pauses, sets it on the concrete, and slips the flannel off himself and hands it over. 

*

They do start to sound better. Sound good. Sound great. 

Matilda takes on so much, but she does it expertly. Benji’s glad not to have center-back stage — hates the limelight. And, as they discover over the years, Matilda just fits there. Center-back, not fading behind them but shining bright. Capable. 

She organizes the interviews and knocks them out of the park, urges negotiations for a better contract, gets them a sponsorship with an instrument company. She’s graceful on stage, up at the big DJ booth, bouncing to a custom remix between breaks, leading an audience in a cheer for Lark’s encore. 

How it starts between the two of them is a secret never shared. At least, on Lark’s end.

Three people know the details of that night: who asked, what was said, what happened (because things certainly did).

 Lark, Matilda…and, of course, Nomi.

*

There are some things Matilda keeps for herself, though. Like, how right before they become MatildaLark, they open their first big night in a big stadium with a big crowd. They introduce her as a formal member, as if everything else hasn’t been stressful enough. And in some weird, punk-rock initiation, a self-referential joke among fans, she has to be sworn in.

“If I’m going to spit in anyone’s mouth,” she says, holding up the plastic-wrapped vinyl of their first album and tapping a nail against the picture. “It has to be Lark.”

“Has to be.” Benji muses . His lips are quirked in amusement around his cigarette. 

And it is. The next week, Lark skips backward across the stage in a graceful maneuver, closing out the final verse of the song with that hypnotizing power that sometimes threatens to make Matilda miss the beat. He drops his head back against her station, little tendrils of sweaty blond hair nearly getting caught around a dial. Matilda brushes it back, and then forgets entirely what she’s meant to be doing because — 

Because Lark gazes at her from below; chin tilted back,mouth hanging open, a challenging glint to his eyes. 

You won’t.

Matilda smiles back and leans down, draping their faces in a curtain of her hair.

*

Benji strolls down the bus, one hand tucked into his hoodie pocket. In the other hand he carries a half empty, mostly-sugar bottled coffee and the wrapper of a pre-packaged muffin.

He slides into the little kitchenette seat, opposite Lark.

“Doin’ okay?” He asks, tearing open the muffin and offering a piece.

Lark glances up from his phone. Shakes his head.

Benji shrugs and proceeds to chew in silence, foot tapping the top of Lark’s shoe in some rhythm. He watches his friend, nearly motionless, drag fingers through his dark roots.

Finally: “Does it mean anything?”

The drummer tries not to laugh. “Yeah, mate. Means you like spit in your mouth, th’fuck else would it mean?”

Lark groans, slumping down in the seat a little. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.  

“They’ll pop out.”

“Shut up, Benji.” He says. Then: “Wasn’t like that with you.” 

Benji snickers, dusting his hands of the muffin and leaving crumbs everywhere. “Well, I’m not a mostly leg keyboardist, now am I?” 

Under the table, Lark kicks his shin.

*

Not long after, Matilda stands next to Lark and watches the black van pull away. Tino’s taking the for some obscure security certification before the tour begins in full. She has a feeling it’s a cover to get them celebratory drunk, support-yet-cool uncle style, to congratulate them for landing a fantastic job. 

As the van pulls away, its red headed passenger hanging out the back window to wave, Matilda slips her arm around Lark’s shoulders, palm to his smooth cheek. Fingers tracing his jawline, she tilts his face up for a quick kiss. Can’t quite smother the laugh against his mouth, because the thought comes immediately.

“What?” He breathes, eyes sliding shut while she pets through his windswept hair. Tell me, his expression says. I like sharing secrets with you.

(Or maybe Matilda’s gone a bit softer than she would have liked.)

“You’re going to have to keep Benji away from him.”

One corner of his mouth pulled in a confused scowl, eyebrow furrowed. “Oh. The energy, huh? Benji’s thing about, like, everybody vibing. You think they won’t get along?” 

Matilda shakes her head affectionately at his obtuseness, head tilted as she runs her knuckles down his face. “God. You are such a boy.” 

*

“Such a good boy.” 

Lark freezes above her. His sweaty face twists cutely, and Matilda thinks immediately of the expression that had been on it back then, when she’d called his bluff. 

She thinks of it only for a second though, because in the moment is much better. 

He makes a chest-deep, low sort of grunt right before his jaw slackens, before the muscular thighs under her squeezing palms twitch and flex. He’s trapped her hands above her head in a tight grip that only goes meaner as the orgasm shakes through him, hips grinding down into hers hard enough that the strap harness digs in uncomfortable to her stomach. There will be a red line there later; there will be blooming bruises around her wrists where his fingers had gripped. Matilda smirks at him at the thought, offering a few lazy rolls of her pelvis upwards just to be mean.

And, just to be worse, she waits until afterwards. When he lets her hands free, falls off her lap to collapse on the bed.

She waits until Lark is loose and pliant to touch him again. He whines softly, muffled as it is with his face buried in her chest. Slumped over, exhausted. She ignores it. Nudges him off her thighs to his stomach. He squirms a little to get comfortable, face digging instead into her peach-print sheets. 

He’d called them girly the first night he spent at her place. So Matilda thinks it’s only fitting he gets a mouthful of them for round two. 

Which Lark doesn’t seem to expect, if the soft gasp her fingers’ earn as they sneak between his thighs is any indication.

“No way.” He huffs. He swats at her wrist half-hearted, useless. Still, he parts weak knees. 

“What do you mean no way?” She presses a couple kisses over his shoulders, down his ribs, and then sits up on the small of his back. Just to — well, just to look. Lark’s so fucking pretty all the time, but she sometimes feels a special kind of soft in moments like these. Where he’s sated and relaxed, yet still sweetly receptive. 

“I finally got the chance to see if I’d be any good at this. Get you back for being such a smug fucking asshole all this time.” 

Matilda flattens herself down over him as she speaks, lips touching the shell of one ear as she turns them. Lark’s leg gets drawn up over her own, and the next noise she pulls becomes her favorite yet.

“I was a little worried about it, honestly.”

She admits that as she lines the head of the silly gold dildo, sinks back inside easily. There was a warm, nasty swell of pride in her that it had gotten as messy as it had and as fast. 

“Matilda,” Lark whines. His long fingers clutch tight to her shoulder, the other hand pawing for purchase until it gives up, slides around her shoulder into her hair. He manages, somehow, to gather the strength to yank her head back. Then it’s her turn to whine. 

“Your boyfriend goes, I’d be totally down for pegging. Yay, right? Nice. And then imagine you’re in the store with him—“ she begins to rock her hips, appreciating not for the first time how much energy that simple motion takes. And for as long as she’s demanded he don’t stop before? Matilda smiles, ducks down to bury her face in his neck and whisper.

“The sex store. So it’s already kind of embarrassing, because you’ve never done that—- to a guy, at least, so like. You have to research. So imagine you’re me, already stressed as fuck—“ she really starts to give it to him then, one hand propping herself up between his shoulders. Her thighs burn with it, her breath leaving as exhausted, heavy panting.

“And then when you ask, you know, what kind do you mean, where? He has the audacity to go both, Matilda. Greedy!” Her other hand smooths down his back, pinches the swell of his ass, fingers touching just briefly to the plug. “He doesn’t even say please? Why don’t you say please, baby?”

“Please,” Lark moans. His pale back arches in a curve that entrances her. The little legs of that tattoo jump and move as he breathes hard too. His gasps for air between the babbling flex his sides, has the bug twitching as if its alive. It’s spooky. She likes it. 

She also likes that Lark only sings for her this way. She’ll keep some things for herself. For them. He doesn’t need her to sound good, but she thinks its prettier when she’s around.

[whennnow]

Making Medieval Plans

October 3, 2023

[Image ID: a photo of Alex in a pink medieval tunic and dark belt, posing with a straw hat and small basket and pretending to wipe her forehead.]

With basic SCA garb done (in the form of my t-tunics), I can start making more elaborate, long-term plans.

Nothing is concrete yet, but I want to do this in a strategic way so that I don't end up with partial outfits for multiple eras.

My goal with each era is to make a small capsule-style wardrobe which I can later add to and upgrade, while still knowing that everything will go together well. I've already decided on color schemes for the Greco-Roman stuff (sage green and slate blue) and the 13-14th centuries (blue, oranges and yellows, small amounts of green and pink).

13th Century (1200-1299 AD) (vaguely English/French)

My t-tunic are a great base for the 1300s, and I'll just need some accessories to really pull off this era. I don't have much interest in this era, so I'm aiming for a general look as a branching-off point for other eras (and so I always have backup garb).

Other than the historical-looking crocheted snood I'm working on right now, my first priority is a white linen veil and wimple, and probably a simple cap to wear them over. A barbette and filet/"pie crust hat" could be made to go with the snood/hairnet if I want to double down on the last quarter of the 13th century.

A drawstring bag to wear from my belt is also high on the list, but I can use some of my Regency reticules for now.

For some variety in over-layers, a cyclas (like a sleeveless overdress) or two out of thrifted sheets would be easy, as would some sort of mantle/cape.

I might work on under-layers while I'm in this era, too, just to really have the basics down. (Or to really procrastinate.) A simple linen smock, probably a supportive linen smock, maybe some hose (stockings) and braies (technically men's underwear).

14th Century (1300-1399) (vaguely English/French)

This was my original goal when I got into the SCA, and still my favorite!

The cap, veils, bags, and any underthings I've done already will be a good starting point here, and allow me to focus on larger pieces.

If I haven't made one already, a supportive linen smock with a wide neckline will have to be my first priority here, since I will be the foundation garment for my fitted cotes/kirtles (dresses).

Next up is the kirtles themselves! I should be able to use the supportive smock pattern as a starting point for these. One is necessary. Two-three in different colors is ideal. I bought a slightly too-large one in dark blue from another SCA-dian which will be refashioned to fit me. I'd also like a tawny/orange one.

The 13th-century cyclas evolved into the sideless-surcote. One sideless surcote would be fine, especially if it is reversible. These were often statement pieces, so something silk-like would be best. Maybe one side in a golden yellow and one side a pink/peach?

In the third quarter of the century (~1350-1375) a second, usually short-sleeved kirtle could also be worn, often with tippets (white armbands with streamers) and fitchets (pocket slits, usually bound in white). One of these is probably enough, and it's a low-priority project. Probably a middling or lighter shade of blue.

Hoods are an important cold-weather accessory. I'd like at least two wool hoods - one in an earlier style and one in a later style. I have enough cotton from my t-tunics left over to line one hood with each color.

Misc Accessories

I managed to thrift a nice, generic-looking straw hat which is suitable for most of the medieval era. I also have one of those long leather belts with a metal ring at one end that you see on a lot of SCA/ren faire/fantasy outfits.

A simple linen apron would be a quick project and should be plausible for the 13-14th centuries.

I've started accumulating a vaguely medieval sewing kit, which I would like to continue adding to and upgrading. I even have a lucet fork, which I'm excited to learn to use! These currently live in a small, stained linen pouch, which in turn lives in a thrifted wicker basket. The basket is about the size of a small purse, and is a good size for carrying at smaller events.

Speaking of bags, I also have a large, heavy-duty linen market bag which I made at a local workshop! It's a bit too big for most of my needs right now, but I imagine it would be nice for bigger events. A smaller one might also be nice if I can find something suitably heavy-duty.

Other

I'd also like to upgrade my ancient Roman ensemble with maybe a new chiton, some sort of decorative border on the pallas, and maybe even a patterned stola.

Eventually I'd like to take a stab at a 1490s/northern Italian Renaissance ensemble too, but that's even further down the line. (Colors: maroon, yellow, and warm pink.)

[less-than-three-3]

Armored Core 6 - it's good enough

Like probably 90% of people who've been playing AC6, I'm new to the AC franchise after playing the rest of Fromsoft's modern games, and while the game was pretty fun and I could see why it's a cult classic series, I don't know that it really pulled me in as strongly as I thought it would.

Again I thought the game was fun, don't get me wrong, but I definitely did not feel the strong draw to keep playing more and more like I did with other games - like with Elden Ring or the DS trilogy, to compare it with other Fromsoft titles. I will voice what I think contributed to that below, but the tldr is just that the structure and variety didn't really work for me (but it's likely a preference thing). No spoilers below.

I think the first and foremost obvious thing about the AC games is their mission-based format - and of course I knew they were like this going in. I mostly, consciously, viewed this as a positive, allowing me to pace myself better instead of playing for like 4 hours straight or something, and giving me the satisfaction of attempting different missions (read: bosses) with new builds. At the same time, though, I feel like in retrospect this felt a little limiting, especially in terms of plot structure.

Because of the format, essentially the whole story is told through mission debriefs, between-mission dialogues, and somewhat through events of the missions, and that just made me feel less invested, I feel, up until pretty much the endgame where you make a couple pretty big decisions. It also didn't really feel like a natural progression for the most part either, again until the latter half of the game, so I think for many people I'd understand if you feel disconnected from the story entirely because I don't think it does much to pull you in. There's even a multi-part mission that has the breaks to go back to the garage between different otherwise continuous segments of infiltrating a structure. It feels like the story is there to justify the game, as opposed to a world built for the game with the game being used to express that world's events. To many people that's enough, and I get that, but to me it kind of felt like a bit of a letdown.

But at least the game itself is well worth justification - this should really come as no surprise. Of course, being a game from the combat director of Sekiro, the combat and bosses are wonderful (though of course it is what you make of it). The transition from ranged sustained fire to the melee burst of the offhand is always such a satisfying loop. Stagger is very well implemented here, if maybe a little exploitable, and really adds to build considerations and combat approach. Ignoring the stupid "filter" discourse that I luckily have stopped seeing much of, this game does wonderfully to encourage build experimentation and searching for The Answer to various situations - not even just bosses, but scenarios like defense maps or long range/close quarters engagements need you to be flexible with your available AC builds or weapon options.

I do wish, though, that the weapons were generally more interesting. I think the melees are all wonderful and I genuinely love them all, but the guns and explosives were just like, ok. They each had their purposes, don't get me wrong, but I never felt that excited to use a new one for the most part. It kind of feels like the Souls trilogy weapon variety - it's technically there, but I feel like they all play fairly similarly and there's nothing that crazy different about them. That's fine, of course; AC is a series essentially built for number crunchers and spreadsheet lovers, and the weapon considerations do very well to really make you think about your stat tradeoffs. At the same time, though, I feel like to me that wore off about halfway through, since new additions to the shop just weren't particularly interesting or meaningfully more powerful. It's about that point where I just said fuck it and used double miniguns lol, and that honestly was mostly sustainable for the entirety of the second half.

It's not just the weapons though, I felt like the legs and general body considerations were mostly not too interesting, to me. But for this I feel like this might just be a personal issue. I pretty much stuck with the same couple legs for the entire game, and I really didn't feel like the entire rest of the leg options were particularly fun. I wish there were much more leg variety - the tank treads are actually a very good example of this kind of variety, but I felt like nothing else really spoke to me. But again that feels very much like a personal thing. The booster options were really cool though, I loved toying around with different booster options (and was really disappointed when tank treads had their own booster tied into them).

I had fun though! It's very noticeably a very good game, but just nothing topping my personal charts. I'd recommend it for sure - but maybe not as much as I'd recommend the Souls games (on sale on Steam right now!).

[maaarshieee]

i see, u needed dottore ideas so IM GONNA DROP ONE EVERY WEEK 🎉

angst to fluff dottore when he decided to lash out on y/n after accidentally ruining his papers and he told y/n to leave him alone!! y/n proceeds to ignore him for weeks and he's starting to feel guilty

or

dottore meeting y/n through another mad scientist in sumeru. the scientist experimented on y/n and dottore grew fond of y/n. something happened that almost killed y/n so he got mad AND TOOK HER AWAY! THE SCIENTIST WAS FOUND DEAD AFTER A FEW DAYS

i like angst because i like hurting myself... anw im gonna be weekly anon.... HMMM

- weekly anon

⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ୧ ⎯⎯

➢ Iʟ Dᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➢ 1.9k ᴡᴏʀᴅs ┊ Hᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ

➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

a/n - welcome to my hell, weekly anon. and omg I WOULD APPRECIATE THAT FRRR YOU HAVE ALL MY LOVE /P. also i would like to add that i only do long-term relationships with dottore (since childhood or akademiya) bc i feel like it would go very yandere or toxic. i just prefer if dottore had a deeper and more meaningful relationship for a long time! i hope you don't mind anon 😭 i can do variety of readers but my fav is when the reader is also sick in the head like he is. anyways THANKS FOR THE REQUEST AGAIN!! titled, "need you", have a nice day/night!!

↬ cw: established long-term relationship with reader, mentions of experiments and torture, canon typical violence, slight obsession (dottore and reader), couple fights, reader crazy like him fr

Dottore never raises his voice at you.

Just a snark remark here and there, would scold you for your chaotic antics in his lab from time to time. But would never raise his voice at you. Well, intentionally, of course. There were times before when he'd yell at you, but they were never too serious, or loud enough to startle you.

Today was different.

He was already in a foul mood when it all happened. His experiments were giving him a headache rather than enjoyment lately, and the workers he assigned simple tasks that anyone could do in a span of a few days all failed. Things were not going as planned, even his research hit a dead end.

And what did you do to even worsen his mood?

Spilled coffee on his piles of papers. It was an accident, of course. You were tripped by a discarded pen on the floor and stumbled to his desk, hand letting go of the cup as you caught yourself before you hit the ground. He can look past your mistakes since it was you, of all people. But his day has been one of the worse ones yet and his sense of rationality was clouded by his frustrations, letting his anger burst out to you.

"Ah, shit—" You hiss at the painful burns of your hot coffee that landed on your hand but forced yourself to ignore it and instead tried to grab the ruined files, to attempt fixing, or at least dry it but before you could do so, Dottore slammed his hand on the desk.

Startled, you froze like deer a caught in headlights, eyes wide in shock. The impact was so loud in the quiet lab that it rang throughout the spacious area and all the segments present in the room had halted from whatever they were doing, all eyes on the both of them.

"You moron," He spat with venom, a scowl on his lips, and beneath his mask, you could tell he glaring at you with those ruby eyes of his. The hairs of your skin stood as your heart began to palpitate, unsure of what to do under his furious gaze. "Do you know how long it took me to finish all these?"

It was the first time in years you'd seen him so mad at you, your hand began to shake, so you folded your arms behind you, trying to mask your already obvious distress toward him. Cold sweat began to form at your neck whilst you tried to open your mouth to speak, "I- well-"

"Speak up when I'm talking to you."

Technically, your position in the Fatui is much lower than Dottore's. You were his personal assistant, the person who takes upon tasks with much more difficult since you're much more competent than most soldiers. So, it meant you were under his command. But that didn't mean he treated you like a mere soldier.

Well, at least not until now.

You went frigid at his demand, head hung low and eyes on your toes, hands clenched to fists. You tried your hardest to talk louder for him, to follow his orders, but all you could do was let out a meek; "I apologize for ruining y-your papers..."

Dottore heaved out a heavy sigh, pulling back his chair and sitting on it, arms crossed as he stared you down condescendingly. "Your apology is utterly useless." You flinched at the tone of his voice. He pushed the pile you'd ruined to the side and threw them all in a garbage bin, your bottom lip quivering as tears threatened to escape your eyes. "Leave. I don't wish to see you again."

You snapped your head up at that, stunned that he'd even say such a thing to you. "W-wait! Let me at least make new files for you-" You pleaded, taking a step forward but he clicked his tongue, annoyed, whilst he grabbed a new piece of paper and began writing. "Leave me alone. Be of use while you're at it."

Were those files that important? More than you? You swallowed down all the words at the tip of your tongue, gritting your teeth, and just nodded, bowing respectfully, as if you were just one of the Fatui's myriad of soldiers, and walked outside of the laboratory, ignoring the concerned and worried looks of his segments.

And that's how it has been for the past few days. You still fulfilled your duties when Dottore tasked you with a mission, always delivering flawless results. Neither of you mentioned what happened that day. Dottore never apologized, and you never spoke about it, opting to ignore him as much as he's ignored you.

Usually, you would've made a fuss. Nagged him to apologize to you, since he'd hurt your precious feelings and because he loved you. But you hadn't said a word to him unless it was really needed. And you've started calling him sir. It made him frown when you first did.

Now, he was aware of what he did a few hours after he realized you were nowhere to be seen in his lab. Dottore searched for you out of instinct and only stopped himself when he remembered what he had said. He called you a moron. He told you to leave, and so you did.

But would he ever apologize to you upfront? When did he ever do that? Of course not. He expected you to come around at some point, but by day 3, he had grown more and more agitated. Dottore thought that he would alright with you, but he was proven wrong. Not when his patience was beginning to thin and snapping more at others the longer this went on. Hell, torturing his lab rats didn't quell his bothered mind at all.

And you? Well, you missed everything about him. The tasks he gives you were easy enough, but you've been trying to distract yourself from them by holding yourself back. Finishing faster meant reporting to him, and gods know you were hanging on a thread of self-control to not launch yourself into his arms when you see him again.

You planned to ignore him until he'd grovel on his knees, well at least something similar to that because he'd never do such a thing, even to you (but it would be a nice sight if he ever did) but your will to continue and your spite toward him was slowly beginning to crumble.

The two of you were never meant to be separated anyways.

So when he started assigning tasks that required you to be close to him, you knew his stubbornness to not feel an ounce of longing for you was dwindling down. You swear you could feel the apology he wanted to say with his own lips by his mere presence, but he still attempted to turn a blind eye to his emotions, especially when he felt a rush of ecstasy when you moved closer to him.

"Tch, this guy..." You chuckled under your breath as your expression softened when you watched him walk away to fetch something, letting your shoulders sag, tired. "Fine fine, I'll take the lead..." As much as you prefer he would make a much more straightforward move, you'll just take what you can get. It's not like you can take much more of this anyways.

The next day, you approached his desk at your own whim, a stack of files in your arms. Dottore paused his writing, putting down his pen then gestured at the multiple folders you held, confused. "What's all this?"

"I redid the files you threw away a few weeks ago." You carefully placed them in an empty space on his desk, a small smile on your lips as you watch him purse his, taking the document on top of the stack. "I wrote them exactly how you wanted them. Margins, your handwriting, organization, paper, and stuff."

He must say, he was quite impressed with your dedication. What you said was true, you did make it just the way he liked his files. It made the corners of his lips twitch, opening his mouth and almost letting a thank you slip out, but he caught himself. "First sentence in and you've made so many grammatical errors..." You heard him mutter under his breath whilst he continued to scan through the papers.

You gave him an annoyed smile, hands behind your back as you said through gritted teeth; "Are taking them or not?" Maybe you just imagining it, but you could've sworn his shoulders shook lightly at what you said.

"I suppose this'll do." Dottore decided, putting away some of the documents inside his drawers. You proudly nodded at yourself and opened your mouth to say something else when you felt his gloved hand touch your cheek. You paused, staring at him with surprised and questioning eyes but he just caressed your skin, trailing from your cheek and down to your jawline.

"I'm sorry," He wrote.

You couldn't help the huge, triumphant smirk that graced your lips. Though, he didn't seem to mind, allowing you to slip off his glove and press your hand on top of his, leaning against his touch. "Now, what's this supposed to be?" You teased, narrowing your eyes at him humorously. Dottore scowled at your comment, but never pulled his hand away from you. "Forget it." He hissed, nails digging into your skin, but the slight pain only made you grin and cheeks flush.

Easily, you forgave him when you moved his hand toward your lips, pressing a kiss on his palm, before carefully slipping back his glove onto his hand. With another loving kiss on his knuckles, you bowed at him, but not as a soldier that work for him. No, but as you, his teasing lover who loves to rile him up.

Just as you were about to take a step back, to leave to resume your duties, Dottore grabbed your arm and pulled you behind his desk and onto his lap. Before you could raise any protests, he gently grabbed your chin between his fingers and tilted your head upwards, a little breathless at his sudden actions. "Now, where do you think you're going?"

Similar to the day he rose his voice, you felt yourself grow nervous under his stare. But compared to it, there was excitement flowing in your veins as his arm wrapped around your torso, his breath hot against your lips, mere inches away from one another.

"I have a mission in Liyue, you know?" You say shakily, pressing your body close to his and wrapping your around his neck, in contrast to your words. Dottore absolutely loved the sight of red painting your cheeks, the warmth of your body, the vulnerability you only show to him that he's so addicted to.

Undoubtedly, he missed you so much. But Dottore was never good at words when it comes to how he felt. Actions though? Occasionally subtle to the point, it gets on your nerves, but there are times when he touches you like a starved man. You're utterly obsessed with it. With him.

Clearly, you're never meant to be separated from one another.

Dottore only scoffed at your excuse and before you could say another word, your lips connected.

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