#it sucks there’s no way we have a chance to change the outcome but we can enjoy the games for what there in the moment :)

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Simply Shady I*

Summary: The following events of Joe changing up his hair, along with both you and your fiance gearing up for the start of the season.

(Part 1 to - Part 2)

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (male receiving oral)

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Misc.

August 1st, 2024 - First day of pads at camp

I was woken up in a way that I would usually love, but the fact that it was insanely early made me more annoyed than anything.

“Mph. Not now Joe.” - you mumbled

He didn't say anything in return, and the slow movements of his hips grinding into my behind kept going.

Joe’s body was pressed flesh against me. His chest to my back and his crotch to my ass. Because he was rubbing himself into me, I thought he was awake. But as I froze up in shock, I heard a snore leave Joe’s lips.

He's asleep. He’s asleep and grinding into me.

As Joe continued his movements in his sleep, my mind went wild. Throughout the dirty thoughts, I remembered a conversation that Joe and I had a couple of weeks ago.

Joe had asked me if I'd ever give him head while he was asleep, a different way to wake him up if I was comfortable doing it. I had said yes, that I would, but there was never a day where I woke up first since that conversation.

Today, though, was a perfect chance to try it out.

After deciding that I was going to suck him off while he was still sleeping, I slowly and quietly scooted away from him. Joe had always been a deep sleeper, so it was easy for me to pull the covers off of him and lightly shove him onto his back.

I couldn't help but sit there and admire him. Joe looked like a wet dream, and he was all mine. My personal 220 pounds of pure sexiness.

Joe was wearing nothing but his black boxers, and my mouth watered as I stared at his toned torso, sculpted chest, and perfect arms.

This off-season, one of Joe’s workout priorities was to gain weight to be bigger and stronger by the time football season came around.

He achieved that completely, and the outcome was one of the hottest states of his body that I had ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, as his partner, I've never not thought he was the most attractive man on the planet, but I love it when he beefs up.

I believe it’s because it reminds me of how he looked when I first fell in love with him, back when we were both freshmen at LSU.

——

Flashback - 2018 - LSU

“This date is awful! Please, please, please come pick me up?” - Lyla

After accepting a phone call from my best friend, she enlightened me that she was currently in the bathroom of the restaurant where she was on a date. She went on to say that her date was a weirdo and nothing like how he was over texts.

It was later in the evening, and I was studying in the library for my first big test of the semester, but I had to save my girl.

Still on the phone with her, I grabbed my laptop and textbooks super fast before darting out of the library.

Lyla was still ranting on the phone, telling me to please hurry, and I was focusing hard on not dropping my belongings. As I rounded the corner of the sidewalk, I looked over at the parking lot, trying to remember where I parked my car.

Since my eyes weren't on where I was walking, I gasped when I smacked into a hard body, dropping everything I was holding and my phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“No. No. I should be.” - you

I immediately lept down and started to grab my things, not paying attention to the person that I just ran into. It sounded like a man, and I didn't exactly have time to put up with a college male right now.

To my surprise, though, he crouched down as well, stacking up some of my books as I focused on making sure my laptop screen wasn't broken.

After seeing that it was fine, I finally looked up at the man crouched down next to me who was holding my stuff.

My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened.

Joe Burrow.

He was the starting quarterback for the football team, and because he had just transferred from Ohio State, his name was known.

I had only seen a couple of blurry pictures of him before as I listened to a couple of my guy friends rant about the incoming QB. In pictures, I wasn't exactly attracted to him, but seeing him in front of me right now, I completely understood why girls all around campus were obsessed with him.

“Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” - Joe chuckled

My cheeks turned red when I realized I had zoned out staring at him. This cannot be happening right now.

“I- I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting you.” - you

Joe cocked his head to the side, not exactly understanding. To him, he was a normal guy who just loved to play football. He didn't exactly love all of the publicity.

In the end, he shrugged and looked down at my books that were in his hands. Most of them were for classes, but a couple were for my personal reading.

“In Plain Sight? Do you believe in aliens?” - Joe

I nodded my head with a soft smile on my face, completely in shock that I was talking about aliens with Joe Burrow.

“That’s cool. I do, too. My friends all say that I'm crazy to believe in them. Oh, I’m Joe, by the way.” - Joe

Joe shifted my belongings into one arm before reaching out with his now free hand. I reached out, too, putting my hand in his and shaking it.

“I know who you are. I'm y/n.” - you

“That’s a pretty name. Only fitting for a pretty girl, though.” - Joe winked

My stomach dropped, and reality hit. He’s a jock college football player. Only one thing on his mind.

I stood up and recollected everything into my arms, and Joe immediately noticed my change in body language. When he handed me my books, I noticed that the pretty smile had dropped from his face, a disconcerted look left in its place.

“Did I say something wrong?” - Joe

“No. I just need to get out of here. Thanks for the help, it was lovely to meet you, Joe.” - you

I started speeding down the sidewalk once again, but Joe called out for me to wait. Oh, fuck this.

“You forgot your phone!” - Joe

Mentally cursing myself, I turned around and walked back up to Joe. He was fully standing up now, and he towered over me.

“Thanks..” - you

“You’re welcome. Maybe I'll see you around campus?” - Joe grinned

I looked up at the stupid smile on his face and wanted to claw my eyes out. Why is he so cute? He’s just wearing athletic shorts and a Looney Tunes sweatshirt, but he looks perfect.

“Mmm. Probably not. I'm more into school than all of the partying.” - you

“I’m not into partying either. I’m taking all online classes, so unless I'm at football practice or working out, I'm usually at my apartment.” - Joe

Why are his stupidly perfect lips still moving?

“Okay? Thanks again. Bye.” - you

I started walking off again, and this time he didn't stop me. Once I got into my car, I laid my head back against the headrest with a deep sigh. That did not just fucking happen.

Why was he being so oddly persistent?

Probably looking for a quick fuck.

“That’s what they all want.” - you whispered aloud

I was lost in my thoughts. The thoughts being the image of the pretty quarterback crouched down while examining my alien book, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling up when he smiled.

God he was so-

My train of thought abruptly stopped when I heard a quiet voice. I looked around, confused, before my eyes landed on my phone. The call with Lyla was very much still going.

I remembered why I was rushing in the first place, and my eyes went wide. After quickly grabbing my phone to my ear, I realized just how crazy I was about to sound.

“Lyla, you will never guess what just happened. It sounds crazy.” - you

“You can tell me after you fucking pick me up!! Come on!” - Lyla

——

Flashback - still 2018 - LSU

“Are you excited to watch your man play?” - Lyla squealed

I rolled my eyes at her words. We were currently sitting down in our seats for the first home game of the season.

My run-in with Joe was months ago, and I hadn’t seen him since then, not like I expected that I would, but Lyla swore up and down he was into me.

She hadn't let the interaction go, and when I perked up at the mention that she had an extra ticket for the game since her boyfriend bailed, it only made it worse.

“You know he's still single. Maybe he's waiting to see you again.” - Lyla bumped your shoulder

I stared at her for a few seconds, narrowing my eyes at her dumb assessment. There was no possible way that was true.

Joe and I were strangers. We only knew each other’s names and the fact that we both believed in aliens. To be frank, he's probably long forgotten about our encounter. There were girls constantly throwing themselves at him, so why would he pay attention to me?

Up til the team ran out, Lyla was talking about nothing but Joe.

“Lyla. He doesn't even know who I am. He's probably long forgotten about bumping into me. Even if I wanted to say something to him, which I don't.” - you

“Sure. We’ll see if that changes after you watch him play. Those football pants might do something to you.” - Lyla

“Stop saying things that make me roll my eyes. I'm gonna get a headache.” - you

“Or… stop fighting the fact that he was into you and one thousand percent recognize you if he saw you again. He called you pretty! And when you freaked out, he immediately got worried that he said something wrong.” - Lyla

Before I could say anything, the team ran out. Lyla immediately jumped up and yanked me up with her. I have to admit, the electricity running through Death Valley as everyone was on their feet cheering was an adrenaline rush. I couldn't help but jump and cheer as well.

My eyes landed on Joe fairly easily as he was leading the pack as QB1. And for a split second, he looked at me too. His eyes were scanning the crowd before looking away, but he did a double-take.

Unfortunately, Lyla noticed and shook my shoulder. We were in the bottom row of our section, so there was a chance he was looking at someone behind me. Right?

-

Joe’s POV - Same flashback

While running out with the team, I looked over at the crowd just to see how big it was. It was my first home game as a Tiger, and Death Valley already felt like home.

As I looked around, my eyes scanned over a familiar face. I looked away and realized, so I did a double take to make sure I wasn't seeing things or my mind was playing tricks on me.

It was her.

My eyes weren't deceiving me. It was y/n. The beautiful girl I had the lovely opportunity of gracing paths with. Quite literally.

When I first bumped into y/n, it felt like everything around me disappeared and that it was just us on that sidewalk, much like how it felt as our eyes met through the crowd.

I only knew this girl's name, but I’ll never forget how I felt crouched down on that sidewalk with her. Everything felt right. Like everything was still and at peace.

I never thought I’d see her again with how quickly she took off running after I called her pretty. Looking back, I could see why it freaked her out. Our personalities were meshing super well before I said that, and I know the reputation of college athletes. She probably thought I was trying to get in her pants, only to be gone by the morning.

I'd never been that kind of guy anyway. I had hooked up with a couple of girls while at Ohio State, but I got attached too easily and could never leave it as just a one-night stand.

Maybe I could talk to y/n more and show her that I wasn't the average college athlete fuckboy. That is if she'd even talk to me or even remember that we'd bumped into each other.

After Game - Same flashback

LSU won the game, and Joe was impressive, to say the least. Lyla nudged me after every good play he made, making sure to call him ‘my man’ when she was talking about him.

Everyone was filing out of the stadium, but Lyla and I stayed back to take a couple of pictures and wait for the crowd to die down.

We had our backs to the field, our noses buried in our phones as we looked at a few selfies we had taken.

“Okay, let me get a good pic of the field.” - Lyla

I wasn't exactly paying attention to her, but I noticed that she had turned around to take a picture of the stadium. When she did, though, she paused and gasped.

“Y/N… turn around.” - you

Sighing as I slipped my phone into my pocket, I turned around. My eyes went wide when I looked down and saw what - or who - was standing on the grass looking up at us.

“Hi.” - Joe smiled

Joe was in regular clothes now since the game had been over for about thirty minutes. He was all that was left on the field other than the training staff cleaning up and a few janitors.

“Hi?” - you smiled back

“Did you enjoy that game? I know you said you don't go out, so this must be a different environment for you.” - Joe

“It was so fun. You're crazy good, by the way. I'm impressed.” - you

Joe felt his cheeks heat up a little at the compliment, and it didn't go unnoticed by me. I saw the way his face turned a little pink.

“Thank you. It was awesome to see your pretty face again. That might be your queue to runaway, but that's how I feel.” - Joe smiled

My stomach filled with butterflies at him calling me pretty again, along with a feeling of slight embarrassment from his joke. Something about him making light of the situation gave me closure, though. He wasn't looking for a hookup.

“You’re pretty good-looking yourself.” - you grinned

“I’m glad you think so, y/n. But I didn't just walk over here to call you pretty again. I wanted to know if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight. I’d love to get to know you.” - Joe

I looked at Joe’s gorgeous face in shock before looking over at Lyla. She nodded and bumped my elbow with hers.

“I can get home just fine by myself. You get him, tiger.” - Lyle whispered

Looking back down at Joe, he looked up at me with hopeful eyes. His gaze shifted to Lyla, trying to read her expression before looking back at me.

“Sure. I'd love to have dinner tonight.” - you

Joe’s anxious expression broke into a huge smile, the nervous feeling in his stomach immediately going away. You said yes.

“Okay, great. Can I get your number? You know, so I can text you when I'm pulling around to pick you up.” - Joe

I nodded my head, the smile never leaving my face, and handed Joe my phone for him to put his number in. Once he was done, he handed me his phone to do the same.

After handing his phone back to him, Joe nervously rocked back and forth on his feet. Saying he was giddy was an understatement.

“So I’ll see you in a little bit?” - you

“Yup. It’s a date.” - Joe smiled

As soon as the words left his lips, he spun on the balls of his heels and walked back toward the tunnel. I slowly turned my head to Lyla, my eyes wide, and my jaw dropped.

“That did not just happen.” - you

“Oh, it so did! And he walked over to you. He initiated all of that. Not to mention, he just said that dinner with him tonight was a date. Y/N, that's your man!!” - Lyla

We both grabbed each other’s forearms, jumping up and down and giggling at the fact that Joe, a desirable starting college quarterback, just asked me on a date. Out of all of the girls who wanted him, Joe chose me, the girl he bumped into once.

——

Back to present day

Obviously, the first date went amazingly, and Joe and I have been together ever since. Joe always says that he knew I was the one when he first laid eyes on me, and the fact that his body immediately relaxed on that sidewalk was a sign of things to come. I was home to Joe, sometimes described as his everything.

Since the moment Joe and I started to get to know each other, he became my best friend. Well, I’d say that to everyone but Lyla. She would get a little salty if I told her that.

I remember thinking that Joe was cute the first time we crossed paths, but when he ran out of the tunnel that day, and we made eye contact, my insides melted. No other guy I had been with before was able to make me feel the way he did in that second.

Call it love at second sight.

For the rest of Joe’s time at LSU, before he graduated, we were stuck to each other at the hip, completely and utterly inseparable.

We had to do long distance for a year because I was still at LSU, and Joe got drafted by the Bengals. It was arguably the hardest year of my life.

As soon as Joe entered my life, he became the anchor that kept me grounded. I’d never been happier with someone, and we were together practically every moment that we could. So, to be living in completely different states was tough.

Once I graduated, though, I moved in with Joe. It was the house he bought with his rookie contract, and it was perfect for just the two of us. I ended up getting a marketing job in Cincinnati, just like I had planned when it was announced that Cincinnati had the first pick of the draft. Joe always told me that I didn't need a job since he was getting paid millions to play football, but I wanted to work. I didn't want to mooch off of my boyfriend.

But, a few months ago, I ended up calling it quits at that job. The workplace grew increasingly toxic under a recently hired new boss, and I found myself crumbling under the workload. Joe had been present for a few of my work-related breakdowns, and he finally put his foot down one day.

——

A few months ago

“I don't know if I can do it anymore, Joe. I feel like she's setting me up to fail.” - you

I was having yet another breakdown over work. Second time this week, and it was only Wednesday.

Joe was holding me as tight as he could, listening to every word that left my lips. We were lying on the couch, and I was cuddling on top of him, my face buried in his neck as I tried to calm down my crying. Joe had his arms wrapped around my waist, rubbing my back and kissing my head now and then. He hadn't said a word yet.

After my crying started to slow down, Joe abruptly rolled onto his side and unwrapped his arms from me. He stood up from the couch seconds later and grabbed my phone off of the end table.

“Joey? What’re you doing?” - you

“I can't do this anymore, y/n. This job is breaking you down, baby. I can't just sit here and hold you and then send you back just to have to do it again tomorrow. It hurts me to know you're hurting. I hate it.” - Joe

I stared at him dumbfounded. I knew he detested my job, but he respected my decision to go back every time.

“I’d be a terrible boyfriend to let you stay in that environment y/n.” - Joe

After sniffling a few more times and wiping my eyes and nose on the back of my sleeve, I finally spoke up.

“So what are you gonna do?” - you sniffled

“I’m calling your boss. I’ll try to remain calm, but when it comes to you, I can't control if I lose my shit. You’re the most important thing to me in the whole world, and to see you get treated like this is pissing me off.” - Joe

You could practically see steam coming out of Joe’s ears. I knew he was mad, but I didn't expect him to get this worked up. In another way, though, it made sense. I was the woman that Joe loved, and he took his responsibility of protecting me very seriously.

“What are you gonna say?” - you

“I’m telling her to put your two weeks in. Do you have two weeks of vacation days? I’m not letting you step foot in that office building.” - Joe

“You’re making me quit?? I need that job, Joe. How am I gonna pay for stuff?” - you

Joe did a massive eye roll before plopping down on the couch next to me. Here we go.

“That might just be the dumbest question you have ever asked. Baby, do you know how much money I make? It’d be stupid for you to keep that job that makes you feel like shit when your boyfriend is making millions to play football. No, you aren't mooching off of me, and I don't want to hear that. I want nothing more than to take care of you, y/n. You just have to let me.” - Joe

I stayed silent for a few moments, my anxiety and a feeling of guilt creeping in. My eyes welled up with tears again from Joe’s generosity and the fact that a bunch of fear came with it.

“I need a job, Joe.” - you mumbled

“Why? Why do you need one?” - Joe

It was gonna sound bad to say out loud, and the last thing I wanted was for Joe to think I had doubts about our relationship, but I was just being reasonable.

“What if things go south? I don't want to, and I don't think we will, but what if we break up? Then, I don't have anything to fall back on.” - you

“Are you being serious? We’re not gonna break up, baby. You’re it for me. Do I not make it obvious enough that I'm all in?” - Joe

“I know, it’s stupid. But I still worry.” - you

“You have no reason to. I'm not going anywhere, and that's a promise.” - Joe

——

Back to present day

So, that's when I finally agreed and decided to quit my job. Joe and I were able to spend a lot more time together, and we grew closer than ever before. I was putting full trust in him, and after a while, the thought wasn't scary.

I lay in bed for a while longer, just watching Joe as he slept peacefully. He just looked adorable.

My more innocent thoughts changed, though, as my eyes wandered over his perfect body once again. God, gaining weight was the best decision he's ever made.

Time to get down to business, I thought to myself.

I shoved the covers farther down the bed and gently spread Joe’s legs before kneeling in between them. After getting comfortable, I reached out for the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them down and over his perfect butt.

Joe stirred once he was fully exposed, probably feeling a draft but not fully waking up. Once he stopped moving around, I reached and wrapped my hand around his semi-erect cock. He always woke up a little hard, and right now, I was silently grateful for that.

Slowly pumping his length, I felt Joe harden and grow in my hand, and yet his face still showed zero tension. Once his erection leveled up to fully erect, I removed my hand from his length and slowly leaned down.

I wrapped my lips around his tip, watching his face the entire time I slowly inched my mouth down his dick. Joe let out a little whimper when his tip hit the back of my throat, but as I watched him, I noticed that he was still asleep.

After that, I doubled my efforts in hopes of drawing another sound from his lips while he was still out cold, and it was easier than expected. I sucked on his length as I bobbed my head, trying to give him the sloppiest head that I could conjure up. Joe would let out a little whimper or a quiet moan now and then, and I could tell he was close to waking up.

A minute later, with my eyes glued to Joe’s face, his mouth dropped open, and he moaned out. Louder than before. He’s awake.

Joe’s eyes fluttered open, and when he looked down to see my mouth around his cock, his eyes went wide, and he sat up straight. Joe’s cock got impossibly harder at the sight, and he buried a hand in my hair when I pulled off of him with a pop. I immediately wrapped my hand around him, stroking him fast with a grin on my face.

“Morning, Joey.” - you grinned

“Holy fuck, baby. I- I… fuck, I can't.” - Joe moaned

His raspy morning voice only made the experience hotter, so I took his length back into my mouth. Joe’s head was thrown back, and his grip on my hair got tighter. He's so close.

Joe continued to moan as I sucked him, his thoughts going crazy at the fact that he just woke up to me giving him head.

“So hot, baby. Oh god.” - Joe whimpered

A few moments later, Joe only started getting louder, his built chest heaving as he panted.

“Fuck, I'm cumming.” - Joe moaned

Joe held my head down and bucked his hips up, stilling as he exploded in my mouth.

“Fuck- fuck- fuck.” - Joe

It took a few minutes for Joe to gain his composure back, along with his breath, and I pulled off of his length. I rolled over back into my spot and cuddled up to Joe, pulling him into my chest.

I went to play with his hair before awkwardly stopping, remembering the fact that his curls were no longer there. Joe had recently changed up his hairstyle, and though it was hard to get used to at first, I loved it.

——

Flashback to a couple of months ago

“Hey.” - you

“Hi, baby.” - Joe

I was currently driving home from doing a few errands, including picking up dinner for Joe and me since he said we should just eat at home, though he didn't feel like cooking.

“Whatcha doing?” - you

“Nothing much. I'm looking at clothes for game day fits.” - Joe

“Sounds like fun!” - you enthused

Joe went silent for a couple of seconds before letting out a sigh, my eyes narrowing at his change of attitude.

“Sure. When are you gonna be home? I miss you, and I have a surprise for you.” - Joe

“You miss me? It’s only been a couple of hours, Joey. And I'm pulling onto our road right now. What'd you say about a surprise?” - you

“I have one for you.” - Joe

“Oooo. Am I gonna like it?” - you

Joe was freaking out just a little bit. Sure, what he did was what he wanted, but he was realizing now that it was a little impulsive, and he was worried about what you would think of it.

“Uh. Hopefully.” - Joe chuckled

We ended the call a few minutes later since I was literally in our garage. After grabbing all of the bags that I could, I walked into the kitchen through the mudroom. Joe was sitting at the counter, a grin forming on his lips when he saw me.

“Hey, gorgeous.” - Joe smiled

After placing the bags down and setting the food in front of Joe, I walked back around to the other end and up to him. Joe swiveled the barstool around, opening his arms for me once I stepped between his spread legs. He pulled me into a hug, and my head fell onto his shoulder, Joe’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

“Hi, handsome.” - you mumbled into his neck

Joe stayed silent for a few moments, rubbing his big hands over my back before pulling away and doing the same to my hips.

“Is there anything left in the car?” - Joe

“Just a couple more bags. I can get them, though.” - you

I went to turn around and head back for the mudroom, but Joe grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him.

“How about you get dinner out of the bags, and I’ll go get ‘em? - Joe

“Alright.” - you smiled

Joe pecked my lips before getting off the barstool. I watched him walk away till he disappeared from my sight, my eyes lingering on his ass for a few seconds before I looked away with a giggle.

-

Thirty minutes later, Joe and I had just finished dinner when I realized something. Ever since I got home, Joe’s been wearing a hat with his hood up over the top of it.

Joe cleared his throat to say something, looking over at me to see that I already had my eyes narrowed and staring at him.

“What?” - Joe chuckled

“Why do you have a hat on and your hood up? New questionable fashion choice?” - you

I giggled when he rolled his eyes, but his tone quickly switched back to serious.

“That’s what I was about to tell you. Close your eyes.” - Joe

“Is your hair my surprise?” - you

“Uhm. Basically.” - Joe

Please tell me he got the modern-ish-looking mullet that I've been begging him to do.

I closed my eyes, a grin on my face as I prepared myself. He's gonna look so hot.

Meanwhile, Joe’s heart was beating out of his chest. It was silly to be nervous about, but buzzing his hair, which he knew you loved, was almost a recipe for disaster.

Joe took his hood down before popping his Bengals hat off, running his hand over his spikey hair. He took one last deep breathe, mentally preparing himself for what you're reaction would be.

“Open.” - Joe

I opened my eyes, immediately jumping back with a scream. That’s not a mullet. He's fucking bald. Joe immediately started biting his cheeks and playing with his fingers.

“Is it that bad?” - Joe mumbled

“Joseph Lee. Your hair is gone. It’s gone.” - you

“Can you answer my question? I’m super scared right now.” - Joe

I stared at his head for a few more seconds, my eyes going between his practically bare head and his worried face. He looks so nervous.

Because I hadn't said anything yet, Joe dropped his head, unable to maintain eye contact with you because he was worried you weren't attracted to him.

“You hate it.” - he mumbled

My bottom lip stuck out in a pout as I pushed off of the barstool, wrapping my arms around Joe’s shoulder as his head ended up on my shoulder.

“Aww. Baby, I don't hate it. You know I love your hair, but there's so much more to look at than it. Look at me.” - you

I gently patted the back of Joe’s neck, and he leaned up. I cupped his cheeks, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling back with a grin on my face.

“Your pretty face is the star of the show now. I can focus on your perfect nose, your baby blue eyes, and these perfect lips.” - you

When I mentioned Joe’s nose, I pecked the tip of it, rubbing my thumbs under his eyes when I mentioned them, and I pressed a kiss to his lips when I talked about them as well.

Joe’s cheeks turned pink at the overwhelming compliments, a cheeky grin forming on his lips before I returned his head to my shoulder.

“You’re so cute.” - you giggled

I rubbed his back as Joe giggled into my neck, his hot cheeks easily feelable on my neck.

“Hair or no hair, you're the hottest man I've ever seen.” - you grinned

—

Later that week - Same flashback

I was sitting on the couch when Joe got home from his workout. I was neck-deep in a conversation about Love Island USA with Lyla, so I didn't even look up when Joe loudly shut the mudroom door.

Truthfully, he shut the door loudly on purpose to try to get your attention. When you weren't already looking up at him when he entered the house, he attempted to slam the door so you'd look up, but you didn't.

“I’m homeeee.” - Joe

It was adorable how he drawled out the word, but I was too busy ranting about my least favorite person on the show to acknowledge Joe.

“Baby?” - Joe

“Hi, Joe.” - you

Joe walked into the house, dramatically dropping his bag on the floor before basically throwing himself down on the couch next to you. And yet you still hadn't looked up at him.

“Are you gonna ask me how my workout went..?” - Joe

“How’d your workout go?” - you sighed

He had to grin. He loved messing with you.

“Good. Can I have a kiss?” - Joe

All I did was pucker my lips, my eyes still not leaving my phone as I sent a frantic paragraph in response to something Lyla said.

Joe leaned over and craned his neck to give me a kiss, my eyes going wide when his head came into view. I immediately jumped back, our lips barely ever touching.

“Oh my god. You bleached it?” - you chuckled

I watched Joe move back to his seat so that he was comfortable and not straining his neck. He nodded with a grin, and my eyes were stuck on his bleached + buzzed head.

“What do ya think?” - Joe

I couldn't lie. As bizarre and silly as bleaching and buzzing his hair was… he looked hot as fuck.

“You look good. I kind of like this more. You look less intimidating.” - you giggled

With how bright his hair was, it brought out his blue eyes. One of my favorite features of his and something I could find myself getting lost in.

I moved over after setting my phone down, eventually straddling his lap as Joe’s hands found their place on my hips.

That hair made his perfect face the star of the show, and his built chest and sculpted arms were a sight. I was getting worked up, and he was just sitting here.

“I'm not gonna lie, you look hot.” - you

“Yeah?” - Joe

I nodded, my arms going around his neck as I slowly ground down onto his crotch. Joe groaned, leaning forward and smashing his lips into mine.

“Fuck.” - Joe groaned

After a few minutes of making out, I pulled away from his slick, reddened lips. God, he looks so hot right now.

“We should probably stop. We have to tour our possible wedding venue in less than two hours, and I need to go get ready.” - you

Oh yeah, Joe and I got engaged right after his trip to France! We were planning our wedding for the next off-season, and today we were going to tour a venue with both sets of our parents.

I grinned at Joe’s pout, sad that I was leaving him hanging because he was very hard. But he couldn't get too upset. Not when we were about to tour the place where we were possibly going to get married.

“Are you not excited?” - you chuckled

“No, I am. I just don't want to have to go take a cold shower. And alone.” - Joe

Chuckling as I crawled off of Joe’s lap, I couldn't help but bite my lip at the sight of the tent in his pants.

“Stop that!” - Joe

I only laughed louder before Joe got up from the couch, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“I'm excited to see the venue, though. It’ll make everything feel a lot more real.” - Joe

���Me too. The thought alone makes me giddy. I can't wait to marry you.” - you

“I can't wait to marry you more. I've been waiting for that moment since I bumped into you on that sidewalk.” - Joe grinned

I laughed at his over-the-top statement, finding it both endearing and silly.

“Okay, I think you need that cold shower now. You need some blood flow to go back to your head instead of your dick.” - you chuckled

“Why do you say that?” - Joe laughed

“You’re starting to say some questionable things.” - you

Joe cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at me because he was confused.

“What have I said that's questionable?” - Joe

“Saying that you've been waiting for us to get married since we met.” - you

He rolled his eyes when I left his arms and gently started pushing him towards the stairs. Joe argued that he meant what he said our entire trip into our bathroom.

“Okay, okay! Get in the shower, goofball.” - you

I threw a towel at Joe before turning to the sink, going to grab my face wash before doing my makeup when a cloth fabric hit my face. I put the bottle down to pull the garment off of my head. Lo and behold, it was Joe’s boxers.

Turning around to glare at him, all I'm met with is the sight of Joe butt naked. The only thing he's wearing is a cheeky grin that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle up. If he wasn't so perfect, I’d slap him.

“Ya know… I’m still pretty horny from that make-out earlier…” - Joe

“Get in the shower.” - you

“Yes, ma'am.” - Joe sighed

I watched him climb into the shower with a smile on my face, shaking my head at his antics.

At least I know I'm marrying a man that always keeps me on my toes, I thought to myself.

“Baby, are you sure you don't want t-” - Joe

“Yes, Joe! Shower.” - you

Authors note: The next part will go back to present-day! Or August 1st. This part was just kind of setting the stage for the real stuff!!

Requests;

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! 💕

[princessbrunette]

can you do jj spitting in the reader’s mouth after making her call him dad

basing this around the episode where jj dressed up as a paramedic because that was one of his sexiest looks n people moved on from that too fast !!!!!!!!!

𐙚🐈‍⬛⋆.˚❆

jj was not the responsible one in the group. jj, was the fun one! the trouble maker, the reckless loose canon, mr ‘stupid things have good outcomes all the time’. he was not responsible, let alone strict.

that was until he met you.

he couldn’t believe half the things that came out of his mouth. like, ‘do your jacket up, now.’ who even says that? he couldn’t stand the thought of you in trouble, couldn’t bear for you to do any of the dumb things that he’d normally do, and he would never ever in his power let anything or anyone pierce through your skin and hurt you. not a chance, you’d have to get through him first.

thinking that this change of his went unnoticed is a laughable offence. he was consistently ridiculed with ‘wow, who are you and what did you do to our best friend?’ — and that he could take, usually laughing it off with a petty tongue in his cheek— wondering the same damn thing. but you, well — you had taken it upon yourself to don him a brand new nickname.

‘dad’

it made him huff, nostrils flaring and nose tip twitching upwards like it physically made him itch everytime it slipped from your mouth. “thanks, dad.” you’d giggle when he’d stop you in your tracks to tie your shoe before you went tumbling over yourself. “sorry dad!” you’d whisper in amusement when he would send you a tight lipped look that meant shut up and listen. “please, dad?” you’d emphasise deviously when he’d deny you the permission to do something reckless.

the worst part is, it made his dick hurt. no not throb, not stiffen— hurt. the sentiment made him wanna fuck into you in a way that strays from his usual pipe game. no cheeky quips with a thumb on your clit having eased his length in inch by inch, no— none of that. he means a headlock, or full nelson or something ridiculous and a deep hard fucking that makes you cry.

you’d been a pain in the ass on this little mission of his that he didn’t want to let you on in the first place. it involved a failed jail break, a stolen ambulance and paramedic uniforms. well, he wore the white all-in-one paramedic suit and the navy cap with the logo on it, and you — you sat pretty in the passenger side wearing a polo top with the hospital logo and a black mini skirt. he said if the two of you get caught, it’s on you and your ‘sex shop costume adjacent’ get up.

in hindsight, it was clear you were feeling him in the uniform from the start, looking at him all unfocused and doe eyed whilst he rambles about the plan on the drive there, sucking on that juicy bottom lip and all.

“dude— are you listening? john b’s livelihood is on the line here. we gotta take action.” he barely glances at you as he steers the ambulance, which only makes you want it more.

“yes, dad.”

it’s dad this, dad that— all the way up until you’re panting in the back of kie’s car— having escaped a police chase with no john b in tow. jj was frustrated, full of adrenaline, and turned the fuck on— which is why your panties were around your ankles as soon as he got you back to your empty home.

infact, the pink lace underwear was still binding your ankles when he had your knees pressed to your chest, his all-in-one uniform pulled down off his body just enough to have his dick out, fucking into you mercilessly with a hand around your neck. you’re totally fucked our already, moaning and squealing uncontrollably— and the cap still resides on jj’s head as he grits his teeth, talking down to you.

“nah, call me what you wanna call me— go ‘head, you know i’ve been waitin’ on it to slip out. who am i, babydoll? fuckin’ tell me.” his voice grits and his cheeks are all pink, still cute despite everything.

“d—ugh!” you can’t get it out, because he’s hammering into the spot now, and you’re nearly there. also, you chickened out. you both knew you were into it, this whole ‘dad’ thing— but there’s pride involved. embarrassment. the self awareness that you’d be a wet dream for a freud-following-psychology-student.

“come on,” he chuckles but it’s angry. “say that shit. loud n’clear baby i’m listening.”

“dad, please! wanna cum, dad!” you cry, and it’s this big burst of emotion, because you’re somewhat humiliated— feeling exposed over your kink that had been thinly veiled as a joke until this very moment. his jaw drops for a second after you say it, like he can’t contain the pleasure flooding out of him— but he gains control again in a second, authority seeping into him. his hand loosens from your neck, instead choosing to thumb at your bottom lip.

“yeah, yeah that’s right. that’s what i thought. so you do know how to be a good girl, got it. now open up.”

you don’t, so he tugs your jaw open with his thumb and leans in, spitting a big wet glob of spit into your mouth, smearing what didn’t go in around your swollen lips and laughing at you. sick, sick man. “you like that shit, huh?” and you really did.

he stops getting so antsy and irritated in the future when you drop the nickname on him in public after that point. now he knows what it really means.

𐙚🐈‍⬛⋆.˚❆

[intertexts]

OK HI. HELLO ROS <3 standing in ur doorway like this 🧍 listen i will read worm eventually i just have so much HAPPENING. ALL THE TIME RIGHT NOW. AND DONT HAVE THE TIME. and also jrwi has me in a chokehold u know how it b. ANYWAY. i need u 2 tell me as much about new haven wards as u can without like major insane spoilers for worm. little spoilers r ok. i watch/read everything with a few lil spoilers 2 look forward to anyway <3 i know nothing abt the universe of worm (<<has barely made a sizeable dent in it but god i will i prommy) but i wanna know what exactly nhw is about. how does the universe work. how do the powers work. what is the situation with the nhw how and why are they working together where did they all come from!! gimme the nhw lore!!! as much as u can!!!!! looking at u with the biggest saddest wettest eyes rn pls pls pls infodump abt nhw 2 me!!!!!!!! ros pls 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

HIII HI HI WHISKEY <333 UR INSANE FOR ASKING THIS. BTW. literally insane. grabbing u so hard by the shoulders there is a crazed look in my eye. anyway. FIRST i am tagging @stuck-in-the-ghost-zone here also!!!!!! bc it is his au as much as mine & i am NOT qualified 2 talk abt nhw mark n such. augh.

ok. ok. ok. new haven wards. putting the cut here.

so the basic movement of worm is that powers are from trauma. ridiculously simplified, but that's the base of it-- if you have superpowers, you have them because you went through traumatic events so severe to you specifically that it broke ur brain a little bit. the powers manifest in some way as a reaction to the traumatic scenario. (it is also more complicated than this. playing the spoiler card.) OR secret second option u put urself into indefinite debt to an extremely shadowy and ominous.... organization? person? shadow government branch? conspiracy? and get superpowers in a can, with like, a 10% chance they'll backfire and mutate u into some fucking terrible inhuman shit and then they'll completely memory wipe you and brand you and dump you off somewhere. not really relevant here. because the main way of getting superpowers is to be violently traumatized, cape society in worm tends to be grittier, more violent. there's more villains, the heroes are less shiny marvel or dc and more making whatever moral compromises they need to get the best outcome possible. at one point one of the main heroes in the city worm takes place in tells the sixteen-year-old protagonist "i don't care, there's a kill order out on them, just put a bullet in her brain if you see her, it's fine" and then a while later goes "yeah i'd vote for a kill order out on you guys too," directly to her face. worm is always going "hey, wouldn't it fucking suck if superheroes were real?". there are many horrifying and inhuman and violent threats. sexual and racial and physical violence aren't swept under the rug. these seventeen year olds are sent to crime scenes where flayed and gutted corpses are suspended from the ceilings because they're heroes! ^_^ but this aint about worm this is about the new haven wards!!!!! [wards are the child soldiers junior hero branch of the main syndicated/unionized hero organization, w/ placement in every major city alongside regional protectorate headquarters]

>key things for this au:

--william wisp changed his last name to bell when he moved to new haven (where his brother david lives :) and joined the wards, for another layer of anonymity ^_^ (he is. severely paranoid about his identity & privacy. <- also a Big and Heavy thing in worm/parahumans world. it's a Big Fucking Deal to unmask a cape regardless of their alignment)

-dakota never got the mechanical heart & biomedical augumentation so didn't meet mato cole at that time! he's still dakota damascus :]

-virion... idk why he's still virion & not vyncent actually. probably just because that was the name his parents gave him? we can't change it now though nhw virion & canon vyncent r two different guys to me...

-ashe is the unluckiest fucking guy in the world!!!

their powers are a little different from canon both bc of the ways powers work just being different frm how they do in pd & also because of the "they're always a reflection of the worst moment of ur life that you're just dragging around with you reminding you of it" thing. <333

wibby / whisperer is a breaker/shaker (<- power classifications meaning he has another form he shifts into, and also an area of effect] in his breaker form (crackling white-blue energy) he 1) can control how corporeal he is, or *how* corporeal he is, from "walks into the brick wall" to "doesnt notice there's a brick wall and goes straight through it", to "goes incorporeal to stick his hand in a guy's chest then resolidifies to instakill him" w/ some tradeoffs. & 2) shape/control energy manifestations in a fairly wide radius around him, where the power of the shaped energy is in proportion to the amount of recent death in the area-- if there's a ton of casualties in the area, he can do a lot more than he could in a peaceful small town in the middle of nowhere. the situation with his trigger event was him. growing up socially isolated and half convinced he was going crazy and everyone else Also thought he was fucking insane (deadwood is still haunted!! more haunted :]) for years & years + the loneliness + frustration + unsureness if he's actually the one just. losing it or if it's all really real + the constant feeling of being in danger, that the town is bad and malicious and out to Get you. anyway. he fell, take that as ambiguously as u do for that in canon, didn't die, but was severely injured & couldn't move. just laid there for maybe a day or so in the woods that wanted to kill him. anyway he triggered when he was found! the catalyst was not "the place that's been out to get me my entire life finally succeeded" but the helpless incandescent frustration of "actually nothing i ever do is going to make you understand. i've been trying for so fucking long to make you See It but you won't!!! you never will and you just think i'm crazy or stupid or making it up for attention even though it has such obvious fucking consequences and is manifestly Real!!" he was recruited to the wards by miss g herself, who was like hahahhahaa this kid could be a Really Fucking Big Problem if he doesn't have an eye on him!! ^_^ he never wanted to be a hero, and still doesn't, really, but he's terrified of accidentally hurting people & deadwood is like a weight around his neck and maybe things will be better if he just gets out of here. for a while they're not, of course. he just feels like. y'know. he's another sick thing that crawled out of deadwood, and his powers make that obvious. the way they interact with recently dead shit makes him sick!! living with david is awful-- a big, lovely, lonely high rise apartment, an older brother who barely bothers to speak to him, calls to their mom through the walls going "why is he here? why would you send him here? can he like, go anywhere else?"

virion sol / imprint is a trump (meaning his powers interact With other capes powers.) he can copy powers by touching other parahumans-- the copied power is just as strong as the original, whatever the original is, but he doesn't have an innate sense of how to use it; he can easily be overwhelmed or overstimulated by powers that involve a ton of sensory input, or accidentally loose cannon something he wasn't expecting and can't easily control. regardless, this is a fucking insane power to have. it's so cracked. like within the parahumans-- world, this is something so rare, especially being able to copy the full strength of the power. the very few examples in canon of something similar, the copied power is always inferior. his situation was similar to canon-- the greats were a team of independent heroes, & were like, extended family to virion. he grew up unpowered, but in the cape world-- so many aunts and uncles teaching him security, standard protocols, how to fight capes, how to run cape business and independent team business, how to handle guns and tasers and safely run background checks. y'know. a family's worth of professional knowledge. he never really wanted to be a cape, anyway, he was more than happy to do all the unpowered stuff at home that needed to be done. occasionally he came with them on patrol n stuff or snuck out to watch them. the greats' long term goal was prying out the lich, an extremely heavyweight warlord who had control over most of the city. virion's father struck a deal with the lich-- virion knows as little what the deal was For as he does in canon, but he double crossed the entire team. virion snuck along to the confrontation with the lich (setup) & watched his father turn & murder all of them. still not sure if he did it all himself or just watched as the lich's minions did it, but the way they knew all their weaknesses, how efficient and brutal and unexpected it was-- it was his dad feeding the information. virion stays frozen in shock and horror & hidden during all of this. can't do anything to help. is fucking useless, despite all he knows and has done. for the first time in his life, he wished he had powers, that ram and min and everyone could have taught him how to have and use their powers like they taught him everything else. he triggered watching it all happen. after this, he went on the run, terrified that someone would Know that he saw, that they'd be coming for the loose ends, that his dad would come back for him. all he has of his family is a couple piecemeal things he could grab before he ran-- ram's favorite revolvers, a holy medal of alphonz's, some of his mom's sturdy jewelry. anyway, he ran, moved to a different city, new haven. started figuring out his powers, started targeting specifically other capes who were up to bad shit-- minor to mid league villains, the occasional local hero who would Look squeaky clean, but after their sudden death dirty secrets would come out, etc. all very low-key, very subtle. none of the disappearances or deaths looked related. during this period he is SO fucked up. he is so fucked in the head. he's incredibly hypervigilant and paranoid and jumpy (good at looking unbothered and still clocking every single sound and movement and always facing doors and windows), mired in the grief and guilt and horror at. watching his entire family slaughtered and life shattered in a night. sleeps for no more than two hours or so at a time. even on top of the lich and his dad... what he's been doing puts an even bigger target on his back. doesn't have time or heart for anything but the dirty work. is dissociating through the periods of time where he's not actively hunting someone down or on the job. silhouette is the one who puts the pieces together-- of course he's on the protectorate (hero organization) radar. sure he's only been targeting bad guys, but how clean each one was? how well covered they all are? how whoever this is has allegedly killed at least almost two hands' worth of capes in cold blood by now? sets off alarms, if you're looking!!

anyway, silhouette tracks him down, says hey, i know who you are, i know what happened. you're just a kid. you join us, and you'll gain the resources and skill to be able to get revenge. aren't you tired of running? now... virion took to this fast and well when he did, but. before it all, he was just a teenager. despite the family business, he was just some guy! he helped his mom cook and got help with schoolwork at the kitchen table and his cool aunts took him out for lunch. he never wanted this or expected it. and of course he doesn't trust the heroes farther than he can spit, but... it's something. it's better than this. anything has to be better than the way he's driving himself into the ground. & also, of course. if silhouette can find him. anyone else who's looking for him can too. (i don't think he's even registered on the radar of anyone. his dad didn't actually survive the lich, obviously, & he was the only other one who really knew abt virion + nobody knew he triggered. he's just. so fucking paranoid.)

dakota damascus / failsafe is a thinker/mover. he 1) has a precognitive sense of any pain that anyone in a radius around him will feel in the next short amount of time. this is-- varyingly difficult to block. he can't just Choose not to feel it, although the intensity of the feeling, again, varies. mostly proportionally to how severe the pain actually is, or how many people are hurt, but, with time, he can dull or sharpen it + follow the threads of it to discern Who exactly is in pain, rather than just an ambient sensation. 2) is VERY fast & has matching enhanced cognitive speed. these two abilities work SO good together, both in combat situations & also just day to day patrolling. man. i love dakota. anyway, he triggered young-- he was out with his parents (maybe 7/8) and they got caught in an attack by siberian-- a genuinely indestructible, incredibly powerful villain who can just,,, run her hand through a concrete foundation like it's butter & collapse buildings, or scoop out peoples insides in a heartbeat. and also likes to eat people, like, raw and bloody after dismembering them. whatever level of ultraviolent shocking horror u are imagining. double it. anyway. they got caught in the scene of this attack, dakota got separated from his parents in the panic and stampede and rush to get out-- he's seven! it's terrifying levels of panic and claustrophobia and people shoving and trampling and he's not gonna leave without his parents!! of course not!! he triggers from the fear and the disorientation and the panic & he can't find them & he's trying to fight the crowd but he barely comes up past their knees & there's awful sounds of fighting & he's close enough to see her... things are doubly disorienting with the echo of the agony from everyone who gets Fucking Siberianed. he sees most of the fight. um. a while after she's driven away and it's finally finished he finds what's left of his parents. there's a beat in worm, during an encounter with siberian and the Big Heroes, the prime force equivalent, where they just.. give her a victim to chew on because it makes her happier and less of a nightmare to fight. which is something i think about frequently. anyway, after this things are kind of loose, similar to canon. he does the same shit. it's also quieter and you can feel less people hurting the higher up u are. yk? OH GOD. YEAH. at some point after this we still have not hammered it out. he confronts the slaughterhouse 9 (the supervillain group that attacked/siberian is part of) about it & gets his face slit open (half chelsea smile style) & makes a deal to either kill a guy in [n years] or that guy will kill him & several hundred other people!!!!!!!!!!!! dakota damascus killing a man baked into the bones of nhw!!!

anyway he & cat still fell. he underwent a second trigger event when this happened, actually-- the panic and desperation of that situation + the way it echoed his first trigger, etc. this is also super fucking rare, btw. there are very few second triggers & it is almost Never good. (u cannot trigger more than twice + a second trigger is always a refining or an improving of the intent of the original trigger) so that's where the speed etc. came from. tide found him, gave him. a better support system (low bar!!) + a real purpose in joining the wards. i have a lot of feelings abt this.

ashe / auxiliary / muse is also a shaker/breaker!!!!! his backstory i cannot talk too much about because it is Big Spoilers. but he is a fucking powerful telekinetic (around when he joins the wards, having not really used his power in years, he has an upper weight limit of a couple times his body weight & a fairly large radius of effect). he also has a breaker form that only triggers in certain situations & if he really really pushes himself to breaking w/ his powers-- when he enters it, he loses lucidity, for the most part, & starts warping and stretching and breaking space-time in strange, dreamlike ways-- the pavement melts, or everything gets bouncy, or cars and concrete chunks and things with no business moving float slowly around like balloons, or he pulls and crumples reality to move without really moving.... it gets Real fucking bad, real fast. ANYWAY. he eventually sneaks out one night, walks to a gas station to get. snacks. it-- okay, i'm fucking linking mac's post, i CANNOT summarize all of this concisely. go read that. so. that's ashe's deal!!!!!!!!!

THERE'S ALSO. MARK. ASK MAC ABOUT MARK i have typed this entire thing out on myfucking phone keyboard i literally Cannot keep going. help. and also their mark stuff is so fucking good its so. auuuhhgh. AND ALSO DAVID BELL. WHO WORKS FOR THE ORGANIZATION THAT SELLS U SUPERPOWERS IN A CAN W A CHANCE OF GETTING TURNED INTO AN UNRECOGNIZABLE MONSTER AND DOES HUMAN ABDUCTION AND EXPERIMENTATION. AND JADE AND X AND ALLEN ARE THE FREEDOM CITY WARDS AND GRAYSCALE SHAKES OUT EVEN FUCKING WORSE THAN IT DID IN CANON. YEAH.

SO. YEAHG. THATS. THATS THE MOST OF IT. um. yeah. theyre a dreadful little polycule they are. So fucking clingy they r traumabonded. like little trembling chihuahua puppies. separation anxiety and all. virion and dakota share a comfy old victorian house in a suburban neighborhood maybe a fifteen minute walk from the protectorate hq. wibby starts out living w/ david and eventually just... all his stuff moves over to their place. their clothes r all mixed up they know each others blood types they're all sleeping together on the couch. eventually their house gets blown up. they all get various flavors of nightmare & are 1 million shades of debilitatingly mentally ill but like-- it works. they r good for each other. theyre good together. do not separate them. etc. i'm not even gonna fucking START talking abt their dynamics other than that but like. i mean. if you want a repeat of THIS u can always ask!!!!!!!

[itachis-eyes]

Naruto's Good Faith VS Kawaki's Upbringing

Good morning, yes, I'm Borutoposting again.

One of my favorite things about the introduction of Kawaki into the series and his eventual hyper obsession over Naruto is how real it is.

Naruto did not expect and was not prepared- and would have never been prepared for how attached and ultra protective Kawaki would become of him. It's not Naruto's fault, nor is it Kawaki's, no one was equipped to deal with this correctly. It reached the only natural outcome it could.

Kawaki's life sucked. It really just did! Out of many characters he definitely had the right to excuse his behavior on his upbringing- he literally did not know anything different. His biological Father used him as a punching bag, sold him off for cash, and then his new "father figure" Jigen experimented on him and ruthlessly trained him to become his next vessel. There was literally no love in his life, Jigen reminded him of this every chance he could. Jigen is not even an effective manipulator (like Orochimaru was), Kawaki hated every second he spent there and had no loyalty for Jigen. He directly expresses in conversation with Boruto that he wishes the experiment was a failure and he had died.

So Kawaki just has...no one! No one at all he can trust. Everyone is an enemy to him, and it's not until Naruto holds him and tells him he's safe after Kawaki accidentally triggers himself that his feelings for Naruto begin to change.

For the first time in his life, he has a Father figure who cares. Who genuinely cares about his health, well-being, and about forming relationships with other people (seeing as he wants him and Boruto to get along as well). Despite Kawaki consistently testing him (because it has to be a farce right? I'm just some punk nobody--), Naruto never resorts to physical violence to "punish" or "correct" Kawaki. There's plenty of chidings for him misbehaving and starting fights, but not a single blow.

I'd say that's great strides for a man who very often used to boast about wanting to break every bone in Sasuke's body to drag him back to Konoha. I like this development. He knows Kawaki needs a gentle hand and a figure he can trust implicitly. He gives that figure to Kawaki, and it works.

But Kawaki doesn't just go from 0 to 100. He goes from 0 to 1000. There was never going to be any reality where Kawaki forms a normal Father/Son attachment to Naruto. He became Kawaki's everything, and Naruto was not prepared for the intensity of Kawaki's attachment and desire to protect him.

And nothing could be done about that! Naruto didn't do anything wrong, he treated Kawaki incredibly well. He gave him the security and shelter that Kawaki craved. But he- nor anyone else, was not ready that Kawaki would go that far.

To us readers- the writing is on the wall. We could see it from a mile away. But to the characters within, they just didn't have any tools to predict it nor deal with it, nor prevent Kawaki's attachment from progressing to the point he unintentionally used Eida's omnipotence to completely rewrite everyone's history of his and Boruto's positions in their lives.

Kawaki's transition makes perfect sense. It really wasn't gonna go any other way. I'm so glad it was written that way.

[aesethewitch]

Hello! How's it going? I'm not here for a reading but I'd like to ask a question if it's okay.

How do you deal with your readings being wrong in the long run?

Some time ago I faced an embarrassing situation with a friend. I never asked her not to tell our other friends, but it's pretty much a dick move. I asked the cards about it and I got an overwhelmingly positive response, I don't remember the cards but I remember being very comforted by the results, it seemed like she was very compassionate and caring about my feelings.

Today I basically found out she did tell.

I understand that energies are always flowing and changing and that answers are not set in stone, but it's awfully demoralizing.

Hello! This is a really good question, one I think more fledgling tarot readers ought to ask and try to answer.

The thing about all divination is that it's up to human interpretation. People aren't infallible. We can be wrong in mundane ways, so of course, we can be wrong when it comes to divination.

It happens to everyone. I was wrong very recently, actually -- part of my November month ahead reading was wrong way, and I've been meaning to do a little write-up about it. In my case, my hopes and fears for the month ended up coloring my interpretations of the cards I drew. Looking back at them now, I can clearly read the message I missed. Rose-colored glasses versus hindsight. (I even wrote in the reading that it might've been my hopes coloring the reading, which was 100% correct!)

Sometimes, it's a matter of the future being mutable. Other times, it's just a matter of being plain wrong.

And it sucks! It really does. At the end of the day, no divination is going to be 100% perfect. No diviner is ever going to be right all the time. Honestly, I don't trust anyone who says that they're never wrong. I'd prefer the reader who says, "Whoop, I fucked that right up! My bad!" than the one who claims absolute perfection.

Whenever I'm wrong, I try to take it as a learning experience. I always think I'm not a particularly stubborn or proud person... right up until I have to confront a mistake. So, believe me, I don't give this advice lightly or under the assumption that it's an easy thing to do. It's hard, and it sucks.

But it makes it easier to be a little humble about it. These are the steps I take whenever I'm wrong in a divination:

Think about my headspace at the time of the reading. Was I feeling something in particular? Was I hoping for a specific outcome? Was I afraid of a specific outcome?

Consider the way I worded the question. Did I ask a yes/no question? Could I have worded it better or more clearly? Was I casting assumptions in the question itself?

Ask whether there were external factors that could've changed the outcome. Consider things like other people's actions, spells being done, random chance, environmental factors, and so forth. Was there an action I should have taken to make it true? Was there an action I shouldn't have taken?

Ask whether there was another way to interpret the reading. Did I miss a message? Was there something already in place to suggest that my interpretation would be wrong? Did I straight-up misinterpret the meaning of a card, or mix a card up with another one?

Consider whether I should've done the reading myself, or at all. Sometimes, I'm too close to a topic to do a reading about it with any measure of impartiality. If I feel like I can't step away far enough, I'll ask someone I know and trust to do a reading for me.

Accept that it happens, no matter why it happens. Practice helps. Double-checking also helps (I'll sometimes do two readings on different days or ask for a second-look reading from a friend to see if there's a difference!). But sometimes, there's just nothing for it.

If I do a reading for someone else and end up being wrong (and they confront me about it), I'll always thank them for saying something. Keeps me humble, reminds me that I have more learning to do.

Taking notes helps a lot! I keep track of every reading I do for myself and for others so that I can look back and see what was right, what was wrong, and why. Letting myself be wrong is right up there with making other mistakes, failing at tasks, and otherwise coming up against a learning curve. I hate it and it sucks but it's necessary, so I do my best.

[deltaruminations]

rambling some more about a multi-route story structure, player’s relationship to the game, weird route, etc.

one assumption i make consistently when theorizing is that, even if the prophecy is to some degree a fabrication, there is some amount of truth to the idea that a problem exists in deltarune’s world outside of the player’s or gaster’s present meddling. maybe ralsei/the prophecy calls it “the roaring,” gaster calls it “darkness falling,” maybe the player calls it a “bad ending,” but something had already gone materially wrong in the world before the whole game project or whatever started and it doomed the world’s future. i tend to assume that it’s the reason for the project in the first place — gaster wants a NEW FUTURE because he thinks the current one sucks. deltarune has “one ending” and he hates it. he wants a different one.

at this point, i think the prophecy is less an outright lie and more of a hypothesis — there is a real problem in the universe, and the prophecy is an educated guess at a solution: close the fountains, stop “the roaring.” gaster may sincerely hope that this guess is correct, but he knows there’s a good chance it’ll fail. he may even be expecting it to fail. and when it does, what’s the next logical step but to take those findings and isolate another set of variables? just closing the fountains didn’t work, so what if you collect all of the shadow crystals too? will that change anything? and what if that still doesn’t work? what if the only option left involves hurting many people? is that really so bad if the alternative is for everyone to suffer? and if that doesn’t work… if nothing works… no, something has to work. something has to work. something has to work.

and that, i think, is where the deception lies — the player is being drawn into participating in this experiment through the promise of a good ending, without being told that this outcome isn’t actually guaranteed. the goalposts keep moving, the requirements for a good ending keep changing, because gaster doesn’t actually know what those requirements are or if the outcome is even possible at all. the only way for him to know is for him to experiment, and he can’t do that without the player’s continued participation. he puts an unwitting player into a position of responsibility for these characters and uses that sense of responsibility and attachment to the world to draw the player deep, deeper, yet deeper into a mission they may not have agreed to if they’d known upfront that it might only end in failure.

with that in mind, if we say that the weird route will ultimately be a necessary mode of play in the context of the full game, i don’t think it’s meant to communicate a message that the violence of that route is inherently worthwhile to a broader Good. rather, the weird route may be a simulation of powerlessness and desperation, the player — like noelle, like kris — being impelled and/or coerced to Proceed in a situation where there are no good options, but they’re still unable to say “no” to whoever or whatever is limiting those options. sure, the player can turn off the game and never return, but doesn’t that mean darkness will fall on deltarune’s world anyway? there are only two options here: stop playing, and ensure calamity, or proceed and see if calamity might be prevented. again, this isn’t necessarily a lie on our facilitator’s part — it may be entirely true that darkness will fall without our help — but it doesn’t change the fact of the manipulation. the information that the player might be expected to do something like a weird route, if necessary, was withheld from them until the moment they were impelled to do it.

and i think it’s unlikely that the weird route, on its own, will end any better than a normal route. if we believe that the problem is, in fact, real, then it’s unlikely that simply ignoring the storyline altogether to violently destabilize the world even further will, in and of itself, fix whatever is causing it to end so badly. what it might do is wake up the characters and/or the player to the situation they’re in, and cause them to question the choices they’ve been given, as well as the choices they haven’t, and why they’re stuck with these choices at all. it might trigger confrontation of the power structure itself — perhaps gaster himself, and whatever secrets he may be keeping, and/or the Narrative as a force beyond even him.

if we take these things to be true -- that the problem is real, that the fate to be changed is truly a cruel one, and that the player's involvement is instrumental in that change -- then gaster in this case isn’t necessarily a control freak or cunning manipulator by nature or by preference. he, like the player, may be a well-meaning person in a desperate situation whose own choices are drastically limited by a material situation he can’t control. like a player, his position out-of-bounds gives him unique insight and knowledge, a unique ability to problem-solve and possibly save people, but it also renders him a ghost; he can’t impact the material world directly. he’s effectively helpless without the player's cooperation, like the player is without kris. the player justifies controlling kris because it’s the only option they’re given — and again, not acting through kris means the world will end and kris will suffer regardless. the manipulation isn’t morally right in itself, but it might at least be understandable. from his perspective, he needs to do everything he can to keep the player engaged and avoid alienating them, because there's no way for him to help otherwise. and doesn't he have a responsibility to help? he seems to think he does, at least. he’s a parallel to the audience, no more evil than we are, yet no less culpable for his actions in a desperate struggle for power against a narrative that doesn’t want to be changed.

anyway i don’t know how to conclude this. video jame

[drphitheguy]

Hotline Ruina and Acceptance (and a lack thereof)

I've been playing Hotline Miami 2 & Library of Ruina lately, and it's got me thinking about their similarities. Both are settings that have incredible violence, interesting characters, and they're both very gloomy and kinda depressing, though Ruina is way more dystopian. But what I've been thinking about is how these series handle death.

A bit of a warning: there will be spoilers for both Hotline Miami and Library of Ruina, as well as mentions of death.

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D A N G E R S P O I L E R S A H E A D

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In Hotline Miami 2, we see into the lives of everyone involved in the story. The Fans, Beard (Jacket's friend from the first game), Manny Pardo, Richter, and even some members of the Russian Mafia. While the gameplay is still more or less the same as the first, you realize that the people you fight and kill throughout the game also have names, aspirations, and are trying to live their lives, no matter how egregious the cost. You also learn that they're all heading to a quite literal dead end. We also learn how 50 Blessings operates (the people who spurred the assaults on the Russian Mafia.) Basically, what ultimately happens is that this cycle of violence escalates so intensely that it leads to nuclear annihilation. Every character we've ever gotten to know and see the life of gone in an instant. And do you know what I felt? Hollow...but I also felt acceptance. I came to terms with the fact that all these characters made the decisions that brought them all to that point. And there's nothing that we the player could have done to change the outcome. Now let's switch gears over to Ruina shall we?

Library of Ruina follows up after the events of Lobotomy Corporation (which you should play beforehand) We follow Angela (the Library Director) and Roland (a washed-up grade 9 fixer). Basically Angela fills Roland in on her plan to become human. Angela created the library in an effort to find "The Perfect Book" to make her human. She intends to do this by sending out invitations to certain guests so that upon their arrival she will kill them and trap them in books. So throughout the game you fight all these guests and learn about them. You may get attached to them only to realize that you have to fight them. And THIS. SUCKS. It gets even worse when you end up fighting recurring characters that appeared in Lobotomy Corporation. Ultimately after a bunch of fighting, floor realizations, and one final battle between Angela and Roland having been blinded by revenge, the two ultimately come to their senses realizing that their conquests for revenge caused so much harm to The City (which already has a whole slew of problems, but that's another can of worms.) So Angela ultimately releases the light built up in the Library, releasing everyone who has ever been trapped in a book, effectively giving them all a second chance. Now how did I feel after this? Initially ENRAGED... then relieved (woo hoo Myo gets to live! :D)

You're probably wondering what the point of any of this is. It all comes down to a question that I've been asking myself the past few months. How come I can accept everyone's death in Hotline Miami 2, but not the deaths of certain characters in Library of Ruina? Maybe it's that not everyone in Ruina dies, maybe I'm comparing apple to oranges here, or maybe it's something else. Regardless, what do you think? I'd like to hear your thoughts on this.

[tobiasdrake]

Another one bites the dust. This place is cleansed.

The Watcher? What are you talking ab-- OH RIGHT

Resh'an wanted us to repair the Watcher. That was the whole point of this. Sorry, there was a Dweller and then all of my brain space was being used for violence.

Yes. Please. If you wouldn't mind.

Huh. Okay, so I was right about it being a time prism but wrong about it being the receiver.

Hold up. Isn't this one of those giant statue bros? He's not going to yeet the prism, is he?

Unless that's how we penetrate Mesa Island's barrier? Yeeting the prism straight into it like a Fuck You bomb?

Ooo, this looks important. I'm gonna push it.

Oh shit, it's one of these. If I can swap tiles freely then this will be a piece of cake but if it's one of those slidey-doos, I suck at those.

Turns out it was neither. Simple rotation puzzle. Alright.

Is that Resh'an? Is the Fleshmancer stepping on his head?

More importantly, we've got what we came here for. Time to go see what this buys us.

Resh'an sent me out like, "Hm. 50/50 She either brings me the Vial or makes up a forgery to try and swindle me. I should be ready for either outcome."

He knows me so well.

Full strength, Garl. You only get to smash a legendary artifact of divine power so often.

Oh, so that's why it was being kept in a secure location. It warps back to him if it's destroyed. That's neat. I want all of my shit enchanted like that.

And now he's buttering me up. He does know me so well.

Tell me more about how brave and pretty I am. I added that last part because you forgot to mention it. Clearly an oversight on your part.

Are you going party or cargo? Because when I told you there's plenty of space in Garl's bag, I didn't think to ask Teaks how she felt about it. That's an oversight on my part.

So, party it is. It's cool, I get it. You're LARPing as one of us and you gotta act the part.

We should try and find you some new clothes. And a bath. I mean, Zale and I are both pretty talented at a loom, but we spent ten years sewing so. Y'know. Not on your life.

But the shops in Brisk probably have something. We can ask around, try and get you fitted. See if there's anything in Size WTF Is That.

Oh, absolutely. We're super good at keeping secrets.

Can I call you TIA? It'd be a cute little nickname and we'd be the only ones privy to its meaning so it'd make a fun little in-joke.

I think we're gonna get along great, TIA.

Oh shit, somehow I completely forgot about her. There's my oversight. Again.

Yeah, no, we are terrible at keeping secrets. Like. The worst.

Right, because trying to keep the Fleshmancer from knowing you're with us doesn't exactly work if a servant of the Fleshmancer sees you with its eyes. I gotcha.

See, Garl's got my back. Change of wardrobe and a shower. Maybe three showers. This whole place reeks of mildew.

*gritted teeth* I don't want to say yes because then I'll be denied my chance to pull you into the markets and have a dress-up montage.

But it does meet the criteria. So.

Son of a bitch went straight for her. Didn't even hesitate! Just fucking made a beeline for her, and after I tried so hard to warn him off this self-destructive path!

*sigh* I try and I try to dispense sound wisdom, but there's no reasoning with reckless idiots determined to throw themselves into harm's way.

It took her five seconds to peg him.

Five. Goddamn. Seconds.

This is why we told you to stay away from her, TIA. What have we learned? You can doubt me all you want, I'm sketchy as fuck, but don't you ever question Garl's wisdom.

The face of complete and utter defeat.

Five seconds!

[lunar-years]

Curious on your thoughts about Taylor and the Mahomes if you care to share?

well. I certainly find it pretty deplorable to be a Trump supporter! not knowing one single other thing about Brittany Mahomes I strongly dislike her for using whatever platform she has to endorse that man, and I would never choose to be friends with her.

of course I wish Taylor would not closely align herself with Trump supporters. in an ideal world she would not be all bestie-bestie with shitty people. It unfortunately does not surprise me that she takes a "I can be friends with people who do not share my beliefs nor align with all of my values" approach.

It's wild to me that fans try to justify this with a "well we need to be able to have a dialogue with people who disagree with us or else how will we be able to educate them to change their minds!" type of discourse because whilst I do believe this is true, I can also acknowledge that there is an extremely slim chance Taylor is inviting Brittany over to her multi-million dollar mansion for a party and pulling her aside to discuss u.s. politics...like. if we're being honest with ourselves, this group of people are quite likely not spending their time together debating politics at all. they get to be neutral regarding one another's beliefs and "respect different opinions" because they are all coming from a place of incredible privilege where political outcomes rarely effect them or their lifestyles on a grand scale.

As swifties we obviously care most about Taylor and thus frame everything around her, but I find it sort of interesting that no one seems to be holding the same kind of "hold them accountable by association" mentality for Travis or Patrick Mahomes. I do not follow any of these people but there are certainly fans who are all affectionate about travis and patrick's friendship and cheering on patrick at the same time they're (rightfully) slamming his wife on their social media fan pages.. Not to go out on a limb but um... I'm gonna guess there is a non-zero chance patrick and brittany are politically aligned! But nobody much seems to care about that, it's just brittany [and Taylor by extension] they have a problem with? And actually I've seen a lot of weird twisted justifications about why travis and patrick should "clearly" be allowed to continue to be friends but taylor needs to cut brittany entirely out of her life or else she's cancelled. ...just interesting!

it sucks that the more we talk about brittany the more we keep her at the forefront and give her and her terrible beliefs extended visibility and exposure. It equally sucks that trump has latched on to her support and is promoting it with the obvious and barely masked motive of claiming Taylor's support by extension. it sucks that Taylor is being used as a pawn in that way. I certainly wish she would make the choice to stop hanging on with brittany and be more politically outspoken to combat this tactic, but I'm also realistic that she's probably not going to. At the end of the day, I still like her anyway.

Taylor has previously befriended and interacted with people I find equally unsavory. obviously matty is exhibit A. she's also longstanding friends with L*na D*nham, which I continue to find questionable! This sort of discourse has been going on for a decade in the fandom and as a result I've made the personal choice to be here at the end of the day for Taylor alone and not her friends. I basically pay no attention to any of them unless I have an interest in them independently of her, which would be very very few of them. I do however understand and respect if other people feel differently on matter.

going off of that, everyone's got to have their own hard line. my personal hard line would be if Taylor herself ever started endorsing Trump or republican & MAGA values. However, at the moment I still feel I know enough about to her and the values she has repeatedly upheld over the years to conclude that Trump's values are not her own.

this is a very long, not articulate mind dump to basically say: I don't like that she's friends with brittany/the mahomes. i wish she wouldn't be. yes it's a bad look for her. but i am still going to remain a Taylor Swift fan.

[b-blushes]

Handshake to all the other people trying to manage medical conditions that really suck.

I’m still trying to figure out managing chronic migraine (into my third month of first trial atm) and I’m not scheduled to have to leave the house until next week, had a drs appointment last weekend that meant I could change dosage then, and had plans today (gardening with my dad - woke up with too bad vertigo to actually physically contribute but I sat and watched and discussed things with him, shoutout to him for digging so much for me), so this evening was the only slot I could fit in to adjust med levels. Just got to hope that side effects don’t mess me up too much to be able to drive next week yet again because I don’t want to cancel my weekly outing. That would make me very sad!

It sucks so bad to be sick and then sick in a different way (albeit temporarily) from med adjustments to try and reduce just one facet of the original sick on top of that. And then there’s the flares.

Obviously so grateful for potential for improvements but it’s still so far from easy that sometimes it’s like is there even any point trying to make this work when I am really just wanting any moment of not feeling so bad. At the moment I will not bargain temporary ‘reprieve’ for the chance at longer term improvements, but it’s hard! Especially given that there aren’t any guaranteed outcomes so like. I might have to switch meds entirely and start this whole cycle again for another few months.

I will try really hard not to write this off as lost time (medical-wise) if that does end up happening because I have had a lot less migraine days then I did before! But I’m still so far from doing good 😅 And have 2 separate trials of treatments for 2 other conditions totally paused until I can figure this one out (so I can exclude variables for anything unusual that comes up from them!) so I’m feeling a time pressure from that too, not just from ‘would like to be less brain soup asap’.

Sick 4 eva but we stay silly <3 Forever grateful for my friends who are so silly with me and caring and just solid. Family helping me out so I can actually do stuff and go places. A billion other things!!!!! and it’s spring more and more which is my favourite season! So! Idk, just feeling the woe but there’s a billion good too and I’m glad for that

[wiserodin032402]

my 21 hour long video essay on people who make ‘realistic’ D&D plugins

by someone who worked on one of said ‘realistic’ D&D plugins.

You want to play Warhammer Fantasy RPG 2nd or 4th Edition, or Symbaroum, or The Witcher RPG, or Zweihander if you’re a bootlicker. Please stop lying to yourself and making whole-ass RPGs for free.

I fucking despise D&D but please understand that mechanics exist in the way they do for a reason. It’s not a good reason, but let’s take it from the top:

1. Hit Points AKA Meat Points AKA shit morons fight over that don’t matter

HP is metric of measuring how much you can fail. In the world of D&D failing is being in melee combat.

No for real in D&D throughout the editions everything is better at melee combat than you, usually because it’s bigger, which means it has higher strength so it hits more and deals more damage. The only time this wasn’t the case was in D&D 4e because it had roles which dictated a bunch of stuff about your character so being good at something meant you picked the right role.

So your hit points measure how many times you can make mistakes, which is to say being hit and taking damage. They start off low at low levels and increase at an entirely random rate depending your edition, but hypothetically you get more so you can survive stronger encounters out in the world.

This is the part of the game that’s actually been optimized by developers so it’s like, semi-functional. It’s so fucking functional that there is a literal table for generic monsters in the DMG page 273 of the 5e PHB that will let you wing monsters on the fly (this looks awful scroll really quickly)

These are like reasonably competent numbers (though they kinda suck ass to fight) and are roughly adjusted to the DPR of the average 5e party that isn’t sandbagging. Again, only part of the game that like, functions.

But people just insist in sticking their dick in it.

Every time they either massively reduce HP, make it so there’s an alternative type of HP that also goes down that you have less of which kills you, or they just add more stuff that kills you, or they massively increase damage.

This is for the sake of ‘realism’ because ‘how are you getting better at tanking sword blows’ but nobody ever applies the ideas in reverse, like ‘how are you stabbing through full plate’ or ‘how are you hurting a creature made entirely of stone with a rapier’. Sometimes the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings trilogy comes up, as if D&D is a game about being Tolkienesque heroes, and they all conveniently ignore the scene with the cave troll where the entire fellowship team up and beat it to death in roughly twice the time it takes for the average D&D party to carve up a similar creature.

So they want you to be able to fuck up less and take the consequences for it. The problem is that the game is founded on randomness, and especially in 5e, there’s very few ways to ‘rig’ outcomes without spells and magic. In order to make HP more ‘realistic’ there needs to be ways to avoid failing. In a game like Warhammer or GURPS you’d use cover, employ ranged combat, aim your weapons carefully, and attempt to attack from stealth or ambush your targets, aiming for vital points to deal with them swiftly. While cover exists in 5e, there are no hard stealth rules, and ambushing is a uh...

TOTAL NONSTARTER OH BOY

Which means that it’ll take up more design space (which we will cover in a bit)

Oh and nobody applies these changes to monsters for the most part, which means player characters have a bad habit of dying due to leveling up.

2. Armor Class (you are a boat)

Yeah say it with me everyone ‘this mechanic is from an obscure game about civil war ironclads and your characters are boats’. Fun fact, armor class hypothetically works in 5e and this wasn’t fucking intentional. A lot of people noticed early on that to-hit numbers as you leveled vs AC was a steady 65% hit chance, which was like super cool and modular and totally a departure from 3rd edition where numbers got big n’ stuff, which made it good, and it meant you didn’t need magic items to keep your hit rate competitive. That was called Bounded Accuracy. Bounded Accuracy is a fucking lie and you need magic items because the upper half of the monster manual will laugh you out of the room if you aren’t rocking a +15 to hit and magic weapons. Literally, it’s such a lie that it’s disproven in the PHB, since Archery Style gives a bonus to hit outside the normal hit rate.

Which leads me into the first part of why people have so much of a hard time with AC: morons give their players magic items, surprised the magic items make their players powerful. D&D has a lot of AC boosting magic items, and this is intentional, as AC is your primary defense against damage. That’s why there’s spell that gives a +5 bonus to AC on reaction. What people don’t get is if you give players a magic suit of armor, a magic shield, and a ring of deflection, that you’ve basically given them the medieval equivalent of a wearable bunker and a magic force field against anything that would harm them. You’ve made the player linearly more powerful. now instead of having an AC of 20 they have an AC of 24 and that means a lot, that’s a 40% survivability increase, and it crosses a lot of important thresholds that mean mundane people don’t stand a chance against you (not that they did anyways).

The second part of why people are morons about AC is that AC doesn’t make sense outside of an abstracted context. Dexterity (how good you are with your hands) makes you better at dodging attacks with your whole body somehow so you get an AC bonus from that, but if you wear heavy armor you also get AC from that, and that doesn’t make sense because you’re not harder to hit so much as you’re harder to hurt. Except, you know, fighting in plate is about getting your opponent to the ground (prone, which coincidentally gives advantage), grappling them, and then stabbing a bunch of tiny little gaps on their body until you do enough damage to make them stop or make them bleed out. Those gaps are coincidentally very hard to hit normally.

And you know, actually, when you get down to it, dodging is a horrible way to avoid attacks, it takes a lot of energy and is tiring, it moves you around a lot and puts you out of position often. Often you want to deflect or parry incoming attacks while attacking with your own attacks. And if those attacks get through, it’d just be better to be wearing a suit of armor that just...deflects the blows away from all those tiny narrow gaps in the armor by how the armor is built.

But anyways clearly armor class doesn’t make sense because the armor preventing my attack from getting through...wouldn’t...prevent my attack from getting through if I just hit the armor. It’s the Morrowind argument of ‘I made the models intersect why didn’t I do damage’ but in tabletop format jesus christ.

Look this guy hit dead on and did fuckall, you can see the sword fucking bending backwards because he also fucked the edge alignment.

See, funnily enough this was less abstracted in 3rd edition, since you had your total AC, your AC without your Dexterity Bonus or any other dodging based bonuses (Flatfooted) and your AC without your armor bonuses (Touch) which certain special attacks targeted but you know, babies going out with bathwater.

The reason it all works like this is so the game runs faster, by the way. Rolling to-hit vs a semi-static target number means you can run the game faster and spend less hours of your life doing the combat and more of your life roleplaying. You wouldn’t get that from how long combat usually takes but that’s because even before we had phones to be distracted by people would be playing smash bros at the session while other people did their turns. Otherwise you can get too granular with a system like this, because of all the raw factors that can go into a fight. You need a level of abstraction to keep shit snappy.

This isn’t helped by the fact that 3rd edition onward had Damage Reduction which is such a fiddly fucking mechanic that everyone immediately latches onto as a replacement for armor

3. There aren’t a bunch of other mechanics to the combat because morons rightly disliked how badly 3rd edition managed those options

3rd edition dropped the ball. I have two posts people like to give me notifications about. But tl;dr it has a whole ass system where you could do combat maneuvers in place of attacks so you could do cool shit like take a dude’s sword, stab them with it, and throw it at someone else. It just took a billion feats to get there and you needed to be high enough level that that kind of trick didn’t much matter.

So to make D&D combat more realistic you have to re-implement all the shit that was taken out and put on the Battlemaster Fighter only, but now that we have a dichotomy of ‘Fighter who identifies as being good at fighting’ (Battlemaster), ‘Fighter who identifies as being bad at D&D’ (Champion), and ‘Fighter that identifies as being good at D&D’ (Eldritch Knight), you have to re-implement these features without shitting on Battlemaster.

So in order to make the game meaningfully interesting you have to struggle to re-implement all of these mechanics

Which you aren’t gonna do or do particularly well, and it won’t fix the fact that the Wizard player will still fuck your game over a barrel and not call back the next night.

So why the fuck are we here

I’m not one to victim blame but you clicked read more.

We’re here because you should play a different fucking game if you want realism. I’m serious. Fuck like, I could summarize my entire blog with this:

I keep seeing people wasting massive amounts of design talent on a game that will not love them back, toiling away miserably trying to make a game into something it’s not. Also because D&D’s core assumptions of shit are flawed and built on horrible legacy bullshit, but that’s more shit for another post.

D&D is your bargain bin scaling fantasy game. It doesn’t do anything else:

TL;DR

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Love how as soon as Cat decided she was done with her bullshit everything just fell into place she was really drowning in a glass of water jdsjd -Danny

Words: 2,511

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: 'All My Love' -by Noah Kahan

xxxvii: Copycat Finds A Way

What was it about Parker that made everything so wholesome? Cat wondered if it was her instead. Pete was right, everyone was a shapeshifter, people changed, and as a consequence so did their perception of things.

The mutant snuggled closer to Parker on the bed, now that she was waking up a new feeling was crawling up her chest. Parker couldn't stay, his time here was ending, and so were their chances to be together. She couldn't abandon this universe, especially now that the Young Avengers needed a leader.

She'd finally gotten something she wanted to explore as Cat, though, and she wanted to hold onto it too. The mutant never tried to hold onto anything, but this seemed like the right time to try that out.

Parker stirred awake as she pressed tighter against him, and his arms wrapped around her soothingly. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in like he'd had the most pleasant sleep of a decade. "Had a bad dream?"

"A bad life..." she mumbled against his chest. "And now that I can change that... I'm scared I won't be able to."

Parker looked down at her with worry. "Listen, I'm a stubborn guy so I can handle whatever comes next, but I need you to tell me face to face, now that you've calmed down, that you want to be with me for sure."

"I already told you," Cat huffed.

"But you were going through many things yesterday, you said Kurt's leaving, and you've run out of fights, makes me feel like you're looking for a new challenge. I'm not the next big milestone, okay? Wanna make sure we agree on that."

Cat pushed herself up, she thought hard about her answer. "Well... how do you feel about us?"

Parker sat up too, they were shoulder to shoulder now. "I really, truly want you. But there is no bigger reason than that. I have a personal pathway that's really clear to me, all I'm asking is if you'd like to keep each other company on the go. What about you?"

Cat fidgeted with the sheets. "Saying I'm in love with you feels cheap, Peter. You're good and I suck. I love you is not enough."

"I don't think you suck," he shrugged. "I think sometimes not even you understand yourself, but you're loyal, and you're capable of loving in an amazing way. In my opinion, that's enough to keep things running."

"You think so?"

"I do, yes," he smiled, eyes full of adoration. "I love you because you make me happy. That's all I need to know."

"Hah," she covered her face with both hands. "Y'know, it had been a while since someone made me feel like this..."

"I'm pretty sure that's on you," Parker raised a brow. "I know some tried and you never let 'em."

"Shouldn't you be glad I didn't?" She nudged his shoulder. "Kept the path cleared out for you."

"Not if it made you miserable," he reached for her hand. "You deserved to be looked after, you should have been loved every day of your life."

"I had love..." Cat thought of all the things that happened just so Parker could be there, all the ways it could've ended up differently. She didn't know if she would've done it all over again, but it didn't feel like the worst outcome either. "And I'm ready to accept more of it."

"You won't regret it," he kissed the back of her hand. "We'll be a great team."

Cat squeezed his hand. "We'll need so much help before we can get to that, though..."

"After all you've done for your friends?" He replied, lips still lingering on her knuckles. "The least they can do is hear you out."

"Again, most problems they faced were my fault."

"I don't trust your unreliable narration," he teased her. "It's about time I met your friends, anyway."

Cat walked up the stone staircase of the mansion's entrance with Parker beside her (dressed in civilian clothes). She was about to knock on the huge wooden doors when a PUFF! was heard and startled them. Peter held onto the stone. "Jesus!"

Nightcrawler sat cross-legged on the broad banister, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm actually his distant cousin. You must be the other Spider-man!"

Parker looked at Cat in confusion, and she introduced them. "This is Kurt. Kurt, this is..." she didn't know what to call him, Parker stepped in right on time.

"Ben Reilly," he offered to shake the mutant's hand. Cat smiled, having many names wasn't such a weird trait when it came to superheroes.

Kurt squinted. "Doesn't sound like a real name."

"I promise it is," Parker replied. "Both names are on my birth certificate."

And as far as Cat knew, at least one of them belonged to him. "How did you know we were here?" She asked her friend.

"Edith saw you coming," he pointed at the upper left corner of the door, there was a tiny camera there. "Webhead says this guy is your boyfriend."

Cat looked at Parker. "I never called you my boyfriend out loud."

"Out loud," Kurt echoed with amusement.

"Shut up," she scowled. "Are you here to open the door or do we have to kick it down?"

"Oh, someone's coming," Kurt got to his feet and stared at Parker, he was a bit shorter than Peter, but the young man stepped back warily anyway. Kurt switched to German. "I'm here to determine if this idiot looks sturdy enough to survive dating you."

Parker's eyes widened. "What did he say?"

Cat knocked on the door loudly. "Open u—!" The doors opened and revealed a large group of people waiting for them. "I was gone for a few hours! How did y'all get here so fast?"

"Kurt picked us up," Wanda stepped forward. "Is that your new boyfriend?"

Kate drew Cat into the room, behind the archer she spotted Yelena and Peter (in his spider suit) talking in quiet whispers, definitely making fun of her. Harley was there still, and he had the E.D.I.T.H. glasses on.

"That toy isn't yours," Cat pointed out.

"Actually, it is," Spider-man responded. "He should be the one to have them."

Harley winked at her, his bruises seemed to be healing nicely, and his eye was no longer swollen, just bloodshot. He glanced over her shoulder. "That your boyfriend?"

"Oh, for fucks sake," she rolled her eyes, calling Parker over. Kurt was standing in his way on purpose. "Knock it off, Smurf!"

Parker approached and waved to the group of super people. "Hi. I'm Ben."

"Ben what?" Harley crossed his arms.

"Ben Reilly," Kurt answered.

Yelena snorted. "That's not a real name."

"That's exactly what I—!"

"Quiet!" Cat exclaimed. "Someone please explain why is everyone here?"

"This is the new clubhouse, is it not?" Yelena asked.

"I thought you didn't want to be an Avenger," Cat raised a brow.

"Kate begged me to come," she looked around. "It is a nice house... you may try to convince me."

"You want free housing," Cat stated.

"Yes."

"We'll talk about that in a moment," Cat looked at Wanda and her gaze softened. "Hi."

The Scarlet Witch hugged her, and she whispered in her ear. "Ben's handsome."

Cat chuckled, she moved to look at her. "Are you sure about this?"

Wanda shrugged. "I won't stay here, but I can help you turn it into a proper compound... I also have the feeling you'll need my help with something else," the girl gave her a significant look.

They moved their conversation to the sitting area on the first floor, Cat was standing in front of her friends, and Parker was standing next to the doorway, leaning against it with his arms crossed and throwing nervous glances at the group.

"Thank you for coming, I guess... There are a few people we should call if they want to join, and we should see how the rooming's gonna work if you're planning to stay here permanently or only during meetings and before missions..." She glimpsed at Parker, and he nodded encouragingly. "I have some news."

"Let me guess," Harley looked up from his tablet and pointed at Parker over his shoulder. "You're leaving with him."

"No—" Parker began, and she spoke at the same time.

"—we're trying to come up with a way—"

"—this is her life, I can't expect her to—"

"Guys," Spider-man raised both hands to stop them. "No one's angry at you."

Cat looked around, it was true, no one seemed mad. In fact, everyone was acting as if they'd been expecting this for a long, long time. "Am I missing something?"

"A brain," Harley taunted her. Kate hit his arm.

"Well," Spidey continued bluntly. "We've been trying to tell you— we think it's a good idea if you leave this place."

Cat's confusion increased. "What?"

"You know when I asked if you liked Ben's universe?" Kurt explained. "Part of it was me trying to find a way to tell you I'd go, but I noticed there was something there that could be a solution to your problem."

"Cat, you're one of the best heroes in this world," Kate admitted. "That's why is almost impossible for you to get a good life. There's always going to be a bad guy or a threat that you have to take care of..."

"That's not the life you deserve," Spidey concluded. "We had a talk last night. We think living in a universe where no one will know what you are and what you can do, where is far less dangerous and quieter, it's perfect for you. You won't have to work all the time, even if you could."

"And that's why I'm here," Wanda smiled.

Cat frowned. "And how did they find you?"

"Kate told me about her," Kurt shrugged. "Wasn't hard. When I got there she knew who I was right away."

"He was in many of your memories," Wanda beamed. "I was excited to finally meet him," Cat had the feeling her friends had gotten along in more ways than one. "He asked me to come so I came."

"But why?" Cat insisted. "You almost died the last time you messed with the multiverse, why are you trying that again?"

"Because you don't exist in Ben's world. You could exist as you are now, and that might change the narrative, but if you lived there a whole month and nothing happened..."

"It might work," Harley tapped something onto his tablet. "I stayed up the whole night with Webs to come up with this, Wanda helped us. We think that the solution is to pull a Persephone."

"To pull..." Cat frowned. "You mean to divide my time between universes?"

"Well, it's fitting," Spider-man shrugged. "You train the recruits during the spring and summer, then live a normal life with Ben during autumn and winter."

"It's better than doing it all year, every day," Kurt nodded.

"And cooler," Spidey mused.

Cat looked at Parker. "You're uncharacteristically quiet."

The young man was fascinated by the conversation transpiring in front of him. "This is the craziest moment of my life, and that says a lot— but you're all sounding like this happens all the time..." he locked eyes with her. "If it sounds like it could work and you wanna try, I'm all in."

Cat looked at her friends. "What's your idea, exactly?"

"We put magic into that," Harley pointed at the beeper on Parker's wrist. "Wanda thinks she can make it so Ben's world doesn't get any worse. Instead of crawling through a rupture, she could build a door that opens and closes whenever you want."

"That sounds risky."

"If you're dumb and careless," Harley raised a brow. "But you're the most paranoid woman I know, I'm sure you'll take the necessary precautions."

A feeling of vindication washed over her, reassuring her. She'd picked the right people to work with. "Okay. Let's try that. Thank you."

"It's what friends are for," Spidey got up and pointed at Parker. "You come with us. Edith has to scan your beeper so she makes a new one for Cat."

"What about Cat?" Parker asked, walking towards his variant.

"Don't worry, pretty boy, she's just coming with me for a moment. Dad will be here any moment to pick me up," Kurt looked at Wanda and bowed briefly, his expression softening a bit. "Pleasure to meet you all..."

"When did you have time to do all the shit you did?" Cat frowned. "Brought Yelena and Wanda, called Rocket, packed your things..."

"I can be fast when I want to," he smirked.

"So fast you already got something going on with Wanda, huh?"

He laughed. "She's cute, but I'm going to space so..."

Cat patted his shoulder. "You can come sometimes, ask her on dates— she can astral project, you know?"

"Mimi?"

"What?"

"Mind your damn business," Kurt chortled.

Kate and Harley joined them, both as bummed out as Cat. Now the group would be incomplete most of the time, and they would have to get used to it.

"You have to call often," Kate demanded.

"You know, as weird as the circumstances are, I always knew you two would go to chase some bigger purpose in the end," Harley put an arm around Cat's shoulders and squeezed. "At least things are ending on a happy note."

"Not ending," Cat said. "Remember when I went to live in space? We'll come back, Kurt and I. But I won't kill people behind your back this time."

"I won't sleep with you as a farewell gift either," he grinned.

"Yuck," Kurt made a face. "It's gross how you two had stuff with Mimi— I don't see what the big deal is."

"Because you met me before I could master my charm. If we'd met as teens, you would've fallen straight into my trap."

"So there is a God."

"And he hates nerds and lesbians," Harley added humorously.

Her friends laughed, but the sound of a spacecraft silenced them. When the ship landed, the very distinct figures of a raccoon and a gigantic Groot came out from it.

"Took you long enough!" Kurt shouted. "Was there traffic in space or what?"

"Look who you're talking to like that!" Rocket pointed a sharp finger at him. "Need I remind ya you work for me?"

"I work with you."

Rocket stopped a couple of feet away and glanced at Cat. "And you?"

"And me what?" She grinned.

Rocket huffed and muttered to Groot. "You don't talk to your kids for a few months and suddenly you're not even worth a greeting— can you believe your siblings, Groot?"

"You're not my father, Rat."

"Come say that to my face!"

Cat got closer, but only to pull him up into a hug, she closed her eyes tightly and squeezed him. "You good?"

Rocket patted her back, he chuckled quietly. "All good, toddler. I might even be happy."

"You deserve it, Captain."

"I want a hug too!" Kurt sneaked his way in and embraced them both. "Ahh... this is nice!"

"If you ever need me, you know where to find me," Cat tilted her head up and kissed Kurt's temple.

"I love you so much," he squeezed her shoulders. "You guys are family."

"Your family's about to get bigger," Rocket informed him. "Come meet the New Guardians..."

"Say hi to Nebula," Cat leaned her head on Kurt's shoulder, giving him one last squeeze. "And have fun."

"You too," Kurt smiled. "Remember you have friends in space, and you're welcome to join if your thing with Ben doesn't work out."

"Who's Ben?"

"Her boyfriend."

"I thought she was dating a Matt!"

"That was years ago, you clueless Raccoon."

Rocket scoffed. "Mutants move on too quickly."

Cat chortled. "If only..."

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​​​​​​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​​​​​​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch @slytherinnqueen​

[wawawawawawawawawawawawawa]

[context: i went on a rant on this post about gray morality while high but reblogs are turned off BUT i want my rant to be rebloggable so uh. here it is verbatim copypasted]

i feel like this about izaya but i cant put it into words, i guess like because. i see him as a guy with aspd who doesnt know how to manage a disorder he doesnt know he has, or he’s learned somewhat but the alternative was less miserable?

because, see the thing about aspd is. when you’re first learning how to manage it, it’s miserable! aspd is kind of like, an addiction to dopamine. in aspd your brain produces like. 4x the amount it should. and a lot of times, aspd and adhd are both there, and with adhd the dopamine is very very low. see? these two work in tandem! you don’t WANT to recover, because being ill feels better. you’re happier, you’re entertained, you get rushes of dopamine all the time… but you’re horrible, probably. like izaya says, in order to be entertained you have to keep evolving. you have to do worse and worse things to satisfy yourself. that’s when it changes from acceptable to A Problem. because one day you’re a writer satisfied by making their friends squirm and cry from angst, and the next you’re actively triggering people for a reaction. and its hard to stop because the dopamine, there’s just so much of it.

what i’m saying is, it’s a mental disorder that feels very good to have. like the mania of bipolar- like when you’re manic, you suddenly feel invincible and so so so so good, until you crash? like that feeling. it doesn’t WANT you to recover, and you also don’t want to recover, it feels so good to have. but it also doesnt because youre lonely on account of the aforementioned Sucking. studies show that theres a correlation between “people with aspd who recovered” and “people with aspd who are married,” but did the marriage fix them or is them attracting a partner indicative of their aspd being “less severe?” and therefore more likely to recover? ah if only we had a person with aspd here we could ask them-

PSYCHE MOTHAFUCKAAAA THATS ME!!!! it’s probably the first one. lol. i started improving symptomatically once someone came into my life and actually STAYED there. he didn’t “fix me” but he did help! and i wouldnt say i’m “recovered” wrt the aspd- it still is a disorder that feels very good to have.

but what i’m saying is- izaya. if he has all this. this, “inescapable negative outcome” is. yeah. he either “recovers” and regresses back into a depressed ball of boredom, surpressing every single impulse or emotion because “what if it’s the one that makes me lose control?” and being terrified of becoming a monster like everyone says People Like Him should be…. OR he leans more into the behaviors and urges he knows suck, spiraling into a domapine-addiction that slowly makes him into a worse and worse person and remaining lonely? like. he’s already lonely!!! neither outcome actually promises real happiness, so at some point you;d be tempted to lose control, just to get SOMETHING. and i think that’s what happened to izaya. and this isnt to be like “oooooo baby nothing is his fault,” we can talk about how all this IS his fault like, mental illness and addiction do not excempt someone from consequece and douchebaggery. but it IS something to think about- like, those suicidal girls fell down a spiral of mental illness, and so did izaya. like, he sucks, but also, you can kinda see how him being neglected all his life means there was no other way this couldve gone, especially with knowing shinra. like, he sucks now, but he never really had an oppurtunity to be anything other that that. there was nothing else that would’ve happened, because of every other inevitable thing.

and how do i know that someone w aspd would eventually choose the willing mental spiral? i am ACTIVELY developing a drug problem right now, i know my chance of becoming addicted is VERY high and possibly am showing early signs like cravings and stuff. i know. but i’m still taking the drug because it’s doing exactly what drugs do to people- make them trmporarily happy and get rid of the boredom and sadness of repression. i know what’s going to happen to me but i was eventually tempted into it. you would be too if you had my life.

(disclaimer i am not 100% sure if the neuroscience is accurate here, brain scans wrt psychology are not an exact science and the study could have been wrong or biased, i don't remember and i'm sure i didn't remember when i was zonked off my ass- but there is a sort of link between aspd and adhd so it makes sense that they'd both mess with dopamine production. but yk, take it with a grain of salt)

[3am-starry-night-sky]

Your mental gymnastics of a theory SUCKS

The narrative puts Kaeya as the direct descendant of the founder of the Abyss Order, he has to know about the connection either way, either as a warning or experienced it himself while he lived underground.

Hoyo wouldn't make an entire mission with that info only to be like "Haha! Actually Kaeya is the 20th cousin once removed of the founder of the Abyss so he has nothing to do with it even though he is conflicted between two sides." And I'm sure that what remained of Khaenri'ah converted to the Abyss Order.

I am pretty sure that he wasn't ment to be a spy in a traditional sense, I think this is the only aspect he is left in the dark with because you'd expect a spy report regulary to the ones he is spying for.

But the history of the Clan, the Abyss Order, ect. I am pretty sure he knows as much as he should habe been taught.

If he was truly ignorant he'd be in shock, denial or correct it or he would have come of the thought himself and still be im denial. Instead as Dain notes it is odd that Kaeya accepts it and claims some bullshit about answering some questions about his past.

The game had enough chances to have him fight the Abyss Order but instead he thinks about how hilichurls don't have the mental capacity and instead of fighting the mage or going to a fighting position, Diluc does it for him. Later during an attack he sneaks inside and got intel from them by "fraternizing", he is way too focused on treasure hoarders and never once on hilichurls and the abyss order, yet the game tells us he speaks hilichurlian.

Not to mention the change from Heart of the Abyss to Glacisl Heart

Well anyways I'm pretty sure the narrative regarding him will be in my favor rather than yours

I thought about whether or not to respond to this.

And that's not because I don't agree or am against your theory. It's a nice theory and to some extent, I agree with you. Kaeya probably knows more than he lets on, and to some extent faked his mild unawareness. As he said he has had his doubts, so it's not so much news to him. I tried to develop and look at the interaction in a new way.

It's okay and even usual that you don't agree with it or find that it goes against some of your theories and evidence.

But you know you can be more respective about it. And that's the part that ticked me off a bit.

When posting, I genuinely thought you were interested in a discussion. When answering your thoughts, I agree, I did go off the track a bit from your ideas and thus formed new theories. There's no telling whether it's correct or anything and I never presented it as THE theory, but as A theory among many, as some interesting thoughts I had.

In the end, Hoyo has not confirmed either of our theories. And the thing about theories is that they're about connecting existing facts/info and either making direct connections or abstracting a wider connection and forming a theory out of it. So in a way forming different theories and finding different connections is a way of mapping out possible outcomes and/or solutions. And especially in regards to theorizing about fictional narratives, it's partly about having fun too.

So am I a bit delusional.... probably? But am I having fun forming different theories, yes!

PS! I hope we can stay civil about this. I am raising a toast to your theory and I will celebrate if your theory turns out to be true. I just don't get why you had to be so salty about it.

Anyways have a good day! And don't let me change your mind, keep making theories. Your message was a good prompt for my ideas and thanks for knocking some reality into me. :)

[alizekk]

8 Ways to Think Like an Athlete

By Sheila Monaghan, SELF

Here’s the thing about athletes. They think about their bodies differently than the average gymgoer; they work out, get motivated and define goals — all differently. And their way is highly effective. You don’t need a sponsorship or superior genes to adopt this mindset and achieve the body results you want.

Dream HUGE. You’ve heard of hurdler, wait, bobsledder Lolo Jones, right? She made it to the Olympics but tripped over a hurdle in 2008, failed to medal in track in 2012, then turned up at Sochi on the bobsled team. This is a woman who will change sports in the name of gold. Jocks have pie-in-the-sky ambitions that can’t be crushed. And while you may have no illusions of stepping onto a podium, setting loftier diet and exercise goals can help you succeed. In a New England Journal of Medicine study, people who set out to reach a self-described dream weight lost more pounds than those who aimed for a number they defined as acceptable. The theory? It’s tough to get (and stay) excited about a lackluster achievement. “When the result is modest, it can undermine the optimism and motivation it requires to achieve that result,” says study author Krista Casazza, Ph.D., assistant professor in the Department of Nutrition Sciences at the University of Alabama in Birmingham. What that means for you? Even if you’re just on ramping at CrossFit, make the end game deadlifting twice your weight. Chances are, you’ll actually do it.

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But practice small. Say you’re Tom Brady — we know, you’d rather be Gisele, but play along. Your sights are set on the Super Bowl, but there are more than a few games to win beforehand. While the long-term objective doesn’t go away, you have to move the needle every day. “Pro football players call it chopping stone,” says David Epstein, author of The Sports Gene: Inside the Science of Extraordinary Athletic Performance. “You’re chipping away at something over time with small goals instead of solely thinking about the big win at the end.” For Brady and the New England Patriots, that means beating their Week 1 opponent, then projecting to next Sunday’s game and the following Monday-night matchup. Each victory builds upon the next, helping the team gain momentum. Gymgoers have a different mind-set. They see a workout as finite: “Yay, I survived that 30/60/90 class. I’m done.” Connect your dots. Realize that today’s intervals will prep you to crush tomorrow’s long run, and both will carry you across that half-marathon finish line with a PR — it’s all a process.

Be an athlete 24/7. If you put her in a pair of Choos and hand her a glass of Champagne, Maria Sharapova doesn’t suddenly stop being a four-time grand slam champion. “My swim coach in college told us we are athletes 24 hours a day and that as athletes, every choice — from what to eat to when to go to bed to whether we stretch and foam-roll — affects our daily performance and the final outcome,” says Sara Isaković, a 2008 Olympic silver medalist in the women’s 200-meter freestyle swim and a psychiatry research assistant at the University of California in San Diego.

Okay, your final outcome isn’t Wimbledon, but your choices matter, too. It’s midnight. You’re tempted to cue up that sixth episode of Orange Is the New Black. Ask yourself: What would Sharapova do? Probably go the hell to bed so she could wake up for 5:45 a.m. boot camp. “Identifying yourself as an athlete has a way of revealing bad habits that could be holding you back,” says Jim Afremow, Ph.D., author of The Champion’s Mind: How Great Athletes Think, Train, and Thrive. And somehow it’s less naggy and annoying to pass up a second glass of wine or skip the sugary dessert when you frame it as a workout saboteur versus a no-no.

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Really feel the burn. Athletes get comfortable being uncomfortable. They anticipate the pain of a bonkers workout and embrace the fact that it’s going to suck at points. Very different from us regular folks who freak out or shut down at any sign of exercise unpleasantness. “A lot of people panic when they experience any discomfort in their bodies,” says Epstein. “Elite athletes do the exact opposite — they program themselves not to be rattled. You can see that on pain-threshold tests of elites; they become accustomed to the pain, and even while their bodies are in distress, their minds aren’t. You can learn to do that just as you do any other part of training.” How? You don’t fear the hurt. Instead of backing off when breathlessness takes hold during a sprint, tell yourself, Relax. I know I’m going to be fine. This is not too hard for me, and I can do this. Then take your speed up one notch. Your body already knows it can handle the challenge. You’ve just got to prove it to your brain.

Imagine greatness. You bet your ass Hope Solo has pictured herself making a diving save to win the World Cup on a penalty kick in OT. Athletes fantasize about having a stellar performance in future workouts or games, and those daydreams affect their reality. According to a study in the Journal of Applied Sport Psychology, hockey, track and field, and volleyball athletes who envisioned themselves playing their sport with confidence and control also exhibited the most mental toughness — meaning they didn’t crumble under pressure or give up if a competition got tough. Take five minutes a day outside the gym to imagine yourself overcoming an obstacle in your workout. “Picture yourself pushing a certain weight on a bench-press, but also feel your chest muscles engage, your core tighten as you push, and hear the sound of the bar as you put it back on the rack,” says study coauthor Krista Chandler, Ph.D., professor of human kinetics at the University of Windsor in Ontario. “Imagery is not merely visual; it engages all of the senses. And when we imagine something, we create the neural pathway similar to that created if we were to physically execute the behavior.” For Isaković, that means prepping for a punishing swim interval by imagining herself as light as a feather on the surface of the water and ready to fly over it. Pinpoint and mentally play out the ideal scenario for your workout.

And talk to yourself. For athletes, it’s a package deal: amazing bodies, voices in their heads. A Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise study found that cyclists who repeat pump-up phrases like “you’re a winner,” “feeling good” and “dig deep” during a hard workout increased their time to exhaustion by 18 percent — meaning they were able to bust their butts almost a fifth longer than those who didn’t talk themselves up, according to study author Samuele Marcora, Ph.D., professor of sport and exercise sciences at the University of Kent in England. When Spin class starts to wear you down, instead of thinking, Gah, when is this over? or I can’t go any further, go into cheerlead mode. “If you mentally tell yourself, I’ve got this, your body will respond,” says Isaković. “I happen to love quotes, so I’ll find one to think on each week, and when I’m in that moment of pain, I repeat it in my head over and over.” The fitspo quote that got major love on SELF’s Pinterest boards: “It’s not who you are that holds you back. It’s who you think you’re not.”

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View the playback video. An ice queen misses a triple lutz and no doubt she’s scrutinizing that jump six ways to Sunday in slow-mo to pinpoint exactly where she went wrong. “Pros constantly evaluate themselves,” says Epstein. “After every set or drill, or after they play a game, they self-assess the way a coach would.” That appraisal helps determine what’s going right or wrong, what you need to focus and practice on and how to improve, Epstein adds. For you, that critique can be as simple as training in front of a mirror to fine-tune your form. Are you running on the treadmill with raised shoulders? Lower ’em. Are you lunging with your knee too far over your ankle? Line up those joints. It’s also not a bad idea to hire a personal trainer, run coach, pilates instructor — whatever your workout bag — for some expert guidance, even if it’s for one session. A tiny technique tweak could be all that’s standing between you and greatness.

You do you. The best athletes are narcissists — they obsess over themselves, not the competition. “Elites are confident enough that their own bodies are unique, and they don’t have to look to others to see what to do,” says Epstein. Take Usain Bolt and Yohan Blake, the two fastest 200-meter sprinters in the world, who train together for their sport. “Bolt definitely does not work out as hard or as long as Blake, but that’s because he understands his body and his mind enough to know that he doesn’t tolerate as big a training load as Blake does. You can be sure Usain Bolt is not thinking about other people during his workouts.” Which is exactly why you should worry about numero uno — not the random girl next to you in barre class or running one treadmill over (admit it — you’ve looked at her speed and thought, I’ve gotta match that). What if she isn’t pushing herself as hard as you could? What if she lets up halfway through and that makes you want to quit? If you only make it a competition with yourself, you’ll always win. And while, yes, it’s true that most athletes want to trounce their opponents, their main motivation to exercise is intrinsic. “Remind yourself, Am I a spectator or the one working out?” Afremow suggests. Because you didn’t show up to sweat, to work your butt off, to push yourself for her. You’re working out to be your best.

Forward from : https://www.diopdesign.com/

[wawawawawawawawawawawawawa]

i feel like this about izaya but i cant put it into words, i guess like because. i see him as a guy with aspd who doesnt know how to manage a disorder he doesnt know he has, or he's learned somewhat but the alternative was less miserable?

because, see the thing about aspd is. when you're first learning how to manage it, it's miserable! aspd is kind of like, an addiction to dopamine. in aspd your brain produces like. 4x the amount it should. and a lot of times, aspd and adhd are both there, and with adhd the dopamine is very very low. see? these two work in tandem! you don't WANT to recover, because being ill feels better. you're happier, you're entertained, you get rushes of dopamine all the time... but you're horrible, probably. like izaya says, in order to be entertained you have to keep evolving. you have to do worse and worse things to satisfy yourself. that's when it changes from acceptable to A Problem. because one day you're a writer satisfied by making their friends squirm and cry from angst, and the next you're actively triggering people for a reaction. and its hard to stop because the dopamine, there's just so much of it.

what i'm saying is, it's a mental disorder that feels very good to have. like the mania of bipolar- like when you're manic, you suddenly feel invincible and so so so so good, until you crash? like that feeling. it doesn't WANT you to recover, and you also don't want to recover, it feels so good to have. but it also doesnt because youre lonely on account of the aforementioned Sucking. studies show that theres a correlation between "people with aspd who recovered" and "people with aspd who are married," but did the marriage fix them or is them attracting a partner indicative of their aspd being "less severe?" and therefore more likely to recover? ah if only we had a person with aspd here we could ask them-

PSYCHE MOTHAFUCKAAAA THATS ME!!!! it's probably the first one. lol. i started improving symptomatically once someone came into my life and actually STAYED there. he didn't "fix me" but he did help! and i wouldnt say i'm "recovered" wrt the aspd- it still is a disorder that feels very good to have.

but what i'm saying is- izaya. if he has all this. this, "inescapable negative outcome" is. yeah. he either "recovers" and regresses back into a depressed ball of boredom, surpressing every single impulse or emotion because "what if it's the one that makes me lose control?" and being terrified of becoming a monster like everyone says People Like Him should be.... OR he leans more into the behaviors and urges he knows suck, spiraling into a domapine-addiction that slowly makes him into a worse and worse person and remaining lonely? like. he's already lonely!!! neither outcome actually promises real happiness, so at some point you;d be tempted to lose control, just to get SOMETHING. and i think that's what happened to izaya. and this isnt to be like "oooooo baby nothing is his fault," we can talk about how all this IS his fault like, mental illness and addiction do not excempt someone from consequece and douchebaggery. but it IS something to think about- like, those suicidal girls fell down a spiral of mental illness, and so did izaya. like, he sucks, but also, you can kinda see how him being neglected all his life means there was no other way this couldve gone, especially with knowing shinra. like, he sucks now, but he never really had an oppurtunity to be anything other that that. there was nothing else that would've happened, because of every other inevitable thing.

and how do i know that someone w aspd would eventually choose the willing mental spiral? i am ACTIVELY developing a drug problem right now, i know my chance of becoming addicted is VERY high and possibly am showing early signs like cravings and stuff. i know. but i'm still taking the drug because it's doing exactly what drugs do to people- make them trmporarily happy and get rid of the boredom and sadness of repression. i know what's going to happen to me but i was eventually tempted into it. you would be too if you had my life.

People think "gray morality" in fiction is about Both Sides Are Partly Right Actually but so much more often it's about choices having inescapable negative outcomes that have to be weighed against the benefits, or it's about having to choose between a series of bad options, or it's about making hard decisions about what you are willing to sacrifice to achieve the outcome you believe is good.

So often, I seem to see people angry that a story in a video game didn't present a Good Option with no collateral damage and no negative outcomes whatsoever, and if there are any downsides it's seen as the writers punishing you for the decision, because they see the primary purpose of stories to be moralizing rather than exploring the complexities of human experience. Or they argue that the collateral damage didn't really happen, or that the negative outcomes weren't really that bad actually, and thus miss the point altogether.

And I feel like it's important to remember that a narrative telling you a decision is difficult is not the same thing as the narrative telling you it is wrong.