#it’s really fun coming up with a fiction for all this

[tossawary]

Every now and again, I'll come across some fanfiction in which an emotionally conflicted character will consult (usually kind of trashy) romance novels or in-universe fanfiction for advice or information. And it almost always snaps my suspension of disbelief.

If it's some terminally online teenage geek character or a hopeless romantic bookworm character? Sure! And, of course, there's great humor to be had in a sporty jock struggling with his queer awakening hesitantly picking up the bodice-ripper that his mum left on the coffee table. There ARE scenarios where "romance novels and fanfic as research" tracks just fine. I also understand the existence of the "I want to give this character I like the hobbies I like" / "I want to poke fun at this type / genre of fiction" aspect on the author's side.

But in any scenario with some normie adult man? Some straight, cisgender guy with normie dude hobbies and no evidence that he even CAN read, much less that he enjoys reading? Then it's a "not only would he not fucking do this, I honestly don't even believe he'd know this course of action exists" characterization situation.

Like, there are an astonishing number of people, especially dudes, who could not even name a romance novel to save their fucking life. No, not even a Jane Austen novel or "Twilight" or something. Their eyes glaze over that section of a bookstore. They are mentally filing that shit out to leave more room for sports or first-person-shooter video games or something. They have no respect for this type of fiction, if they're into reading fiction at all! They unconsciously or even explicitly believe that making eye contact with a bodice-ripper will permanently damage their masculinity, and they would flinch away from touching one like most people are scared of scorpions. They don't know aaaaanything about it! They have no concept of "the good stuff" versus "the bad stuff"; it's all soap operas and pornography to them, not a source of information.

And lots of people still don't even know that fanfiction is a thing. They go through life blissfully unaware of fandom wank. Or if they do know of fanfiction, it holds no appeal for them. Playing with other people's characters, or writing fictional stories about real people, is weirdo fanatic behavior to them! Not a source of information.

(And, to be clear, I'm not saying this tracks for all female characters. No, obviously, plenty of women don't like romance novels or fanfic. Plenty of women who do like those would never look at them as sources of information either, for a variety of very good reasons. It's just really funny when a story has the most normie bro guy to ever bro engage with this type of fiction.)

So, like, no, there are some characters whom I cannot be persuaded would ever read any of this stuff. (Speaking as a terminally online fanatic!) And honestly, there are plenty of more realistic and far funnier options for some normie dude character looking for love advice.

A) Friends and family. Or else colleagues and coworkers. It is almost always hilarious when a character goes up to someone else and says, "Hey, hypothetical scenario: [the stupidest shit you've heard in your life]. Any advice for that?" Also, you can have sincerely emotional conversations between friends! Or else good angst if the friend or family member reacts in a hostile manner or gives bad advice!

B) A magazine or chick flick movie. I can easily be persuaded that a normie dude would at least know these exist, or have one left at his house by an ex-girlfriend who made him watch it one time. Normie dudes are also more likely to consider these big publications more legitimate for advice than random romance novels or fanfic.

C) Some random advice column blog or non-fiction self-help book. Could be legitimately good advice for specific situations by a thoughtful professional, could be a money-grab scam written by a quack! How is some lovesick, emotionally dense guy supposed to tell by a book cover?

D) On that note: a relationship advice TikTok influencer or YouTuber or some random advice forum, probably Reddit or the like. The pros and the quacks are unhelpfully everywhere now! And possibly even have a live chat acting as their studio audience to make airing dirty laundry more toxic than ever. Potentially, you will find the kindest person alive with a terrible username willing to gently walk you through therapy, the online equivalent of meeting a figurative angel in a dive bar, but probably not. Bad advice is much more likely.

E) Doing no research, remaining uninformed, and blustering through the situation based on random pre-conceptions if anything. Honestly, I think some of these guys would just ignore the problem, even a potentially deadly problem, rather than touch a Harlequin romance novel, much less AO3 fanfiction. Sexism and internalized homophobia are a hell of a drug. It's just not happening.

I don't have a clean conclusion for this, it's just a funny thing that I've noticed every now and again. There ARE guys who like these types of fiction, of course! There ARE male characters who own an e-reader full of rom novels, sure, and don't give a shit what anyone else thinks. "This [normie male character who is both pretty offline and worries about appearing sufficiently masculine in a pretty toxic way] is reading a lot of romance novels and/or fanfiction as a form of research!" Yeah, no, that's really hard to pull off. If this guy is touching the internet at all, he's far more likely to make the most ridiculous Reddit post you've ever seen and then start belligerent fights in the comments.

[msklassickilla]

Prada You Chapter 20

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy.  The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author’s Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains harsh/foul language, mentions of underage drinking, age gap relationships.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 19: Truth & Lies

August 4th 1998

The sun was blazing down, the humid summer air making the basketball court shimmer like a mirage. I sat at the picnic table under the patchy shade of a scraggly oak tree, fanning myself with a folded flyer someone had left behind. Kiyah and Natasha were across from me, chattering away, their voices weaving through the sound of kids shouting and sneakers squeaking against the blacktop.

Kiyah’s face lit up as she leaned forward, dropping her chin into her hands. "Okay, so let me tell y’all about Big Daddy Jacob."

"Ooh, spill!" Natasha said, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Y’all getting serious, or is he still just a good time?"

Kiyah grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Girl, I like him a lot. Like, for real. And that lil’ night we spent together. Let’s just say… I did what needed to be done."

I let out a laugh, shaking my head as Natasha clapped her hands together, squealing. "You’re too much, Kiyah."

"Oh, it gets better," Kiyah said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. "I’ll be moving into his pockets shortly. I need them probation fees paid a.s.a.p."

The three of us burst out laughing, the sound carrying across the court. For a moment, everything felt light and carefree, like the weight of the past few weeks had lifted just enough for us to breathe.

"Alright, Nye," Natasha said, turning her attention to me. "Enough about Kiyah’s sugah daddy adventures. What’s up with your party? You ready?"

I shrugged, though a small smile tugged at my lips. "I’m getting there. Jey’s handling most of it. He already rented out a nightclub downtown and took care of the decorations, food, and music. Like I didn’t have to do none of that. All I gotta do is find an outfit."

"A whole nightclub?" Kiyah’s eyes widened. "Damn. That shit gon’ be nice as fuck. Girl, you better show out. That’s gonna be a night to remember."

Natasha nodded enthusiastically. "For real. This is big. I just know everybody gone be there."

"That’s exactly what I was thinking. Party gon’ be full as hell especially with all the boys being there," I replied, my smile faltering slightly. Outwardly, I was as excited as they were, but deep down, something wasn’t sitting right. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was coming, like a storm I couldn’t see but could feel in the air.

I pushed the thought aside, forcing myself to focus on the present. "It’ll be fun," I said, my voice firmer this time. "We just gotta make sure our outfits is on point."

The girls squealed; their excitement infectious. Kiyah reached over to slap my arm. "Don’t even stress it. We all gon’ look bomb. That’s our night to shut shit down."

---

August 5th 1998

The next day, I was standing at the sink, up to my elbows in soapy water, when I heard the front door open. Mama’s voice floated in, tired but warm. "Nyeya, finish those dishes and come talk to me."

"Okay, Mama," I called back, rinsing off the last plate and setting it in the drying rack. Wiping my hands on a towel, I made my way to the living room, where she was sitting on the couch, her shoes kicked off and her hair tied up in a scarf. She patted the cushion beside her, and I sat down, the heaviness in her gaze immediately putting me on edge.

She reached out, gently caressing my face. "You been alright?"

"Yeah, Mama. Why?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. My stomach churned, sensing that whatever was coming wasn’t going to be easy. The scratch on my face had begun to fade but I still felt uneasy under her watchful gaze.

Mama’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Nat told me she heard you and Kiyah was fighting at the arcade Saturday night."

My heart dropped. Nat had been a family friend for as long as I could remember, but I hadn’t expected her to run back to Mama with what she’d heard. How did that even get back to her to know that? Michael was right, eyes were everywhere.

"It wasn’t that serious," I said quickly, hoping to downplay the situation. "Just some girls running their mouths."

Mama’s eyes narrowed slightly. "And who’s this guy friend you’ve been running around with, the one you were supposed to be with?"

I froze, my mind racing. "He’s… he’s just a guy I’ve been seeing from around the way," I said vaguely, avoiding her gaze.

"Just a guy?" Mama’s voice was calm but firm, the kind of tone that demanded the truth. "How old is this guy, Nyeya?"

I hesitated, my hands twisting in my lap. "He’s… he’s 29."

Mama’s eyebrows shot up. "29? Nyeya, that’s a grown man."

"I know," I said quickly. "But he’s… he’s good to me. Jey don’t mean me no harm. Like he not using me like other guys would be, Mama."

Her expression softened slightly, but her eyes remained serious. "Is Jey the one you’ve been spending the night with? You should’ve known it was going to get back to me eventually."

She knew more than I thought. I swallowed hard, realizing there was no point in lying now. "Yes," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn’t believe all my bones was falling out the closet like this.

Mama sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Nyeya, I was your age once. I know how easy it is to get caught up, especially with a man who makes you feel like the world is yours. But you have to be careful. You have to be smart."

"I am," I said, tears stinging my eyes. "Mama, I… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you to be mad at me."

I hated disappointing my mama. She did so much for us. I knew who Jey was and if she knew the whole story, she’d definitely have good reason to be.

She reached out, pulling me into a hug. "I’m not mad, baby. I just want you to be honest with me. Lies don’t make things easier, they make them harder. And more than that, I want you to be careful. I’ve seen what this life can do. I’ve lived it. Your daddy… he was just like this man you’re seeing. And look where he ended up."

The mention of my father hit me like a punch to the gut. Mama rarely talked about him, but when she did, it was always a reminder of the risks that came with the life he chose. Slim had been the love of her life until a drug sting when I was two snatched him away. She had moved on, but the scars of that time still lingered.

"I know," I whispered, my voice shaky. "I promise I’ll be careful. And if it gets to be too much… I’ll leave."

Mama pulled back, her hands resting on my shoulders. "I just want you to be happy, Nyeya. Don’t let no man dim your light. Don’t give him that type of power. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, and I’m not gonna let anyone take that from you. You shouldn’t either."

I nodded, tears slipping down my cheeks. "I promise, Mama. You taught me to want better, to expect better. I won’t let you down."

She smiled softly, brushing a thumb over my cheek. "Good. Now, when am I gonna meet this Jey? Time for you to stop hiding him."

The question caught me off guard, but I managed a small smile. "Soon," I said. "I’ll talk to him about it."

Mama sighed, her tone softening even more. "Nyeya, I’m serious. If he’s the man you’re giving your time to, I need to know who he is and what he's all about. I don’t want you caught up in something you can’t get out of."

The conversation ended better than expected, but as I went back to my room, a heaviness settled over me. Mama’s words lingered in my mind, a reminder of the fine line I was walking. Jey had made it clear—ain’t no leaving. And deep down, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But I couldn’t ignore the growing sense that this life, as thrilling as it was, came at a price I wasn’t ready to pay.

August 7th 1998

Friday night rolled around, and the air buzzed with the vibrant energy of summer. The Prada Bois’ car show was in full swing, taking over a sprawling parking lot at the park by the lake. The hum of car engines mixed with music blasting from the speakers that surrounded the DJ, and the scent of grilled meats and fresh panipopo hung in the humid air. Kids shrieked with laughter as they jumped in bounce houses, while groups of men hovered around their tricked-out cars, showing off gleaming paint jobs and customized interiors.

I arrived with Kiyah, Natasha, and Nataya. The twins had borrowed their mother’s car for the night under the guise of them going to some youth night at church, and Kiyah had wasted no time calling shotgun. I had squeezed into the back seat with Nataya, the four of us hyped for the night ahead. I wore my red bandeau top and favorite Tommy Hilfiger overalls, my gold bracelet from Jey gleaming on my wrist like a mark of loyalty—or ownership. A reminder that it always held more weight than it probably should have.

The scene was alive when we stepped out of the car. Bright headlights from parked cars cast long shadows, and the glow of string lights wrapped around tents gave the whole place a festive feel. Kiyah spotted Jacob leaning casually against a shiny black Impala, his Prada Boi chain glinting under the streetlights. She shot me a grin before making a beeline for him. Natasha, always drawn to the music, drifted towards the DJ, her hips already swaying to the beat.

That left me with Nataya, who didn’t even glance back as she marched straight to the food tables.

“Girl, you must be hungry?” I teased, catching up to her.

She shot me a grin over her shoulder. “You already know. Don’t act like you don’t be eating too.”

I laughed, shaking my head. By the time I caught up, Nataya was piling her plate high with barbecue ribs, potato salad, baked beans, and a generous helping of sapasui. Then she grabbed another plate and added grilled chicken, panipopo, and fresh taro.

“Two plates?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as we found a spot at one of the picnic tables. She was really taking advantage of the free food.

Nataya plopped down, balancing the plates with ease. “Baby, yes. Jimmy put me on to the island food. I gotta taste everything,” she said with a wink before digging in.

I sat across from her, my appetite gone as I watched her eat with enthusiasm. My gaze lingered on her oversized shirt and shorts, a far cry from Natasha’s mini dress. Her face seemed fuller; her movements slower. Something felt different.

“Nye, you okay?” Nataya asked, noticing my stare. “Why you not eating? You don’t like it?”

I hesitated, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “You on your period?”

I didn’t mean to say it out loud but the thoughts tumbling in mind had me curious. I needed some answers.

Her fork paused mid-air. “What? Why?”

“You just… seem different,” I said, trying to sound casual. “And you’re eating like you ain’t had food all day.”

Nataya laughed, shaking her head. “Girl, I always eat like this. You know that.”

That much was true, but something about her felt… off. I decided not to push it. If she had something to tell me, she would, eventually. But for her sake, I hope it wasn’t what I thought it was.

After we finished eating, I let the party pull me in. The music was too good to ignore, and I found myself bouncing in the inflatable castle with some of the kids, laughing like I didn’t have a care in the world. When the DJ switched to a 90s R&B mix, Natasha dragged me to the makeshift dance floor. I let the rhythm take over, swaying and spinning, losing myself in the moment.

Then I felt it—a heavy, piercing gaze. My eyes scanned the crowd and landed on Damian. He sat near a lineup of cars, one woman perched on his lap and another leaning into him, her hand grazing his arm. But his eyes were locked on me, dark and unreadable.

A chill ran down my spine. I turned away, focusing on the music and Natasha’s carefree moves. Loyalty, I reminded myself. My loyalty was to Jey. Damian was just… history.

Kiyah joined us not long after, her hand clasped in Jacob’s. She leaned in close, her voice low. “Taya’s not drinking. She wouldn’t take a shot with me. That ain’t like her ass.”

“But she’s eating though,” I replied, glancing over at where Nataya was now chatting with a group of women. My only suspicion deepened.

Kiyah and I exchanged a knowing look. “Her ass bet not be pregnant,” Kiyah muttered. “You know they mama, Ms. Deedria, don’t play like that.”

“It’s looking like she is,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “And if she is… that’s crazy. I thought it would be yo’ ass to have baby first.”

Before Kiyah could respond, the growl of engines turned our attention to the lot’s entrance. Jey and Jimmy had arrived, their cars gleaming under the lights. For once, Jey wasn’t intoxicated. He looked calm, clear-headed, and… grounded as he exited his car. His eyes found mine immediately, and he motioned for me to come over.

I nodded to the others before sliding his way. My heart fluttered as I approached him. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. He kissed me, his lips warm and familiar. “You look good,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling up at him.

We lingered in our own little world for a moment before he led me to a quieter spot. As he ate, he brought up something that made my chest tighten.

“When am I meeting moms?” he asked casually.

I had told him the day before that my mama knew who he was and that we were dating. I didn’t expect him to be so eager to meet her though. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted him to meet her. 

“Soon,” I said. “Probably on my birthday. She always does something special for me.” We would normally celebrate along with my granny, Bernice, and some of my other family.

Jey nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That works. But I’ve been thinking. After your birthday, you should move in with me. Ain’t no point in you staying at your mama’s place no more.”

The words hit me like a brick. “Move in?” I repeated, my voice shaky. “Jey, that’s… that’s a lot. And a bit fast.” Jey was talking crazy.

He frowned, his brows knitting together. “How is it a lot? You already spending nights with me. Got some of yo’ clothes there as well. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is my mama and Michael,” I said. “I can’t just leave them. Michael’s heading to high school. And I be there when Ma work overnight to make sure he good.”

I did other stuff to make my mama life easier. She worked full-time and also did hair on the side. I couldn’t just leave her especially for Jey who I only knew for two months. I loved Jey but that was too much of a commitment too soon.

Jey’s jaw tightened, frustration flickering in his eyes. “Michael’s damn near grown. He can take care of himself. You gotta let him be a man. And I’m sure ya mama will be good.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been thinking about enrolling in community college this fall,” I said. “And maybe getting a part-time job. Just to have stuff to fill my time with.”

I had plans before I met Jey and I wasn’t trying to change them just because I was his girl now.

Jey’s hand brushed over the bracelet on my wrist, his touch both possessive and tender. “You can go to school, but you don’t need to work. I’ll take care of you, Nye. You know that. I need you with me though. I got us.”

His words should’ve reassured me, but they didn’t. I forced a nod, my mind swirling with doubts. We had been doing good. So, I choose not to argue.

As I glanced around the party, my thoughts wandered. The other Prada Boi wives and girlfriends seemed happy, but were they really? I watched Solo dancing with his girlfriend, Bronson laughing with his wife and kids, and Nataya sitting in Jimmy’s lap as he rubbed her stomach.

Was this truly the life I wanted? The question lingered, heavy and unanswered, as the party carried on around me.

---

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the parking lot as the streetlights flickered to life. The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, and the occasional rev of a car engine reminded everyone of the reason for the gathering. I leaned against a picnic table looking at nothing in particular, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that had been growing in my chest since Jey’s earlier suggestion.

"Nye," Jey’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see him standing a few feet away, his hand extended toward me. "Come here. Stop thinking so much. Go have some fun, baby."

I hesitated, then let him pull me into a hug. His arms were warm and firm, but they didn’t ease the tension inside me. I wanted to believe in him, in us, but doubts still lingered. I told myself to let it go, at least for tonight. The party was winding down, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Jey kissed the top of my head before pulling away. He glanced toward the lineup of cars and nodded. "I’ll be over there with Damian. Come find me if you need anything."

I watched him stroll away, his confident stride unmistakable even in the dim light. He stopped by the hood of a sleek black car where Damian was already perched, a bottle of beer in his hand. My stomach twisted as I watched them exchange words. Their conversation looked serious, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Curiosity burned inside me, but I stayed rooted to my spot—until Jey’s eyes caught mine.

“Nye, come here,” he called out, his voice loud enough to rise above the chatter.

My heart raced. I told myself there was no reason to be nervous. Damian wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t dare. His ass bet not. That shit happened a long time ago. Forcing a smile, I walked over to them, my sandals clicking softly against the pavement. As I approached, Jey reached out and pulled me into his lap.

“Not you being anti-social, girl,” he teased, wrapping an arm around my waist. His tone was light, but I could feel Damian’s eyes on me.

Damian’s expression was unreadable. He took a slow sip of his beer before speaking. “Nyeya. Good to see you again.”

“You too,” I replied, keeping my tone polite. My guard was up, though, and I could feel the tension bubbling just beneath the surface. Don’t start no shit, won’t be no shit, sir.

Jey didn’t seem to notice. He leaned back against the car, completely at ease as he spoke to Damian about something— a deal, maybe, or plans for the weekend. I wasn’t paying attention. My focus was split between the warmth of Jey’s embrace and the cool detachment in Damian’s eyes. The moment felt like a game of chess, every word and gesture a calculated move.

Then she appeared. The woman from Tama’s pool party—the one who had been in Damian’s lap. She sidled up to him in a barely there dress, her hand resting possessively on his shoulder. Damian’s lips curled into a smirk as he introduced her.

“This is Dulce,” he said casually. “Dulce, this is Nyeya. Jey’s girl.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a polite smile. Dulce nodded, her attention quickly returning to Damian, who didn’t seem to mind.

Jey’s grip on my waist tightened slightly as if reminding me where I belonged. The conversation shifted to lighter topics as a few other Prada Bois wandered over, including Sami and Tama. They were laughing about something when Jey’s voice cut through the noise.

“By the way,” he said, his tone casual but loud enough for everyone to hear, “Nyeya’s gonna be moving in with me soon. My baby coming home for good.”

The group’s reaction was immediate. Cheers and congratulations erupted around us, with Tama slapping Jey on the back and Sami grinning broadly. “That’s what’s up, man,” one of them said.

I froze. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I forced a smile. Jey hadn’t discussed this with me— not really. He’d brought it up earlier, but I hadn’t agreed to anything. I mean I nodded but that wasn’t agreeance that was a ‘okay, whatever’ type of thing. And now here his ass was announcing it like it was a done deal. I couldn’t believe it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Damian’s reaction. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and the tension in his jaw was impossible to miss. When our eyes met, it felt like the air had been knocked out of me. There was an unspoken conversation happening between us, one that no one else could hear. I looked away quickly, feeling queasy.

Jey tilted his head to look at me. “You good, baby?”

I nodded, plastering the smile back on my face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

The party carried on around us, the laughter and music ringing hollow in my ears. As Jey chatted with the others, I leaned into his chest, letting his presence ground me. But my thoughts were a tangled mess. Damian’s warnings echoed in my mind, and for the first time, I wondered if I was in over my head. Even if I was, Jey wasn’t letting me go.

----

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[physalian]

Describing skin tones with food!

I am 100% not any authority on how you should describe non-white skin-tones, disclaimer.

I remember reading in a few places when writing my various diverse casts on ways to describe traits that are culturally specific here, but can’t really be called the same in fantasy settings (like dreadlocks).

I had a sensitivity reader for a Black-coded character who called me out on accidentally saying she was “white-knuckling” something. Honest mistake, I didn’t think twice about what “white-knuckling” literally means, it’s always been shorthand to convey fear and stress. Whoops.

But the other thing I remember seeing in quite a few places was avoiding using food to describe darker skin tones, and the one food I saw everywhere was, of course “chocolate”.

Majority consensus was that using food as a descriptor can look derogatory, especially something like chocolate that tends to also pop up in fiction that fetishizes darker skin tones, it’s always chocolate. Food is something you consume for pleasure, not something that denotes respect and autonomy of a person.

It's a small, small thing, and I don't think one instance of 'chocolate' is going to earn you a spot on a pyre, but it is cliche, and we can do better!

Issue then being that when you think of brown things, the immediate options you think of aren’t the same caliber as pale things. Wood types, and even then those are… eh? Mud is brown, dirt is brown, clay can be brown. Most woods aren't a perfect match-up for the wide range of darker skin tones and saying "her skin was black like black wood" is ridiculous and "her skin was black as soil" is insulting.

I think nuts and other natural materials are okay? (not the authority, not the authority at all) But it does then come down to which similes you use dependant on the story you're writing. If we're writing about a nature sprite and say their skin is the color of an acorn... yeah that tracks. If I'm writing a CEO of a major coporation, and describing their skin as the color of acorns, that's weird.

Whiteness on the other hand gets things like snow, paper, milky, creamy, alabaster, ivory, lily, daisy, etc. Even when whiteness is described with food, ‘milky’ doesn’t carry the same undertones as ‘chocolatey’.

I do go out of my way, for characters where it fits, to deliberately describe white skin tones with food just to shake up the balance a little bit and see if anybody notices.

So! Some pale-skinned food comparisons if anyone else wants to try with varying levels of cheekiness, and also to emphasize just why ‘chocolate’ can be a little bit insulting:

Cream

Milk

Eggshell

Powder

Banana

Yoghurt

Pear

Mozzarella

Cauliflower

Mushroom

Potato

Butter

Macadamia

Cashew

Parsnip

Water chestnut

Coconut

Truffle

Tofu

Wonder Bread

Sushi rice

In all seriousness, I used this post as part of my research way back when. At the end of the day, you don’t usually have to get that specific, certainly not every time mentioning their skin pops up in the narrative.

I can imagine using the above words if a character is either joking or insulting someone else ("that cauliflower fuck"), but not in any casual context, much less romantic or as a means to describe attractiveness. It’s just for fun plz see the satire.

[kc5rings]

Starting a new Pokémon Sun run together with my wife playing Moon and I always play to a theme so

Say hello to the starting lineup of the Alolan Wrestling Federation

Early fighter profiles under the cut

1. Champ: Our current local champion with her eyes on the world title, a mankey who rises to the occasion with the grit to take hits and strike back twice as hard

Signature move: A flashy jumping suplex that uses her powerful legs to take her and her opponent fully into the air

2. Chance: A bold little bonsly who once challenged Champ to a match with tears in his eyes, seeing the kid had something to prove Champ gave him one chance. Stay standing after one hit and she’d teach him the trade, he was rocked but stood his ground and has been learning from Champ and the rest ever since

Signature move: Nothing yet but he’s got a sharp eye and absorbs his lessons like a sponge, mimicking the other fighters and slowly working out a style of his own

3. Lockjaw: A classic example of a heel on the surface who always looks out for her crew behind the scenes, helping treat as many injuries as she causes, which is A Lot. Fights largely by soaking impacts and out muscling her opponent, often hides foreign object in her body to use herself or pass to her heel teammates

Signature move: Designed to catch people off guard by being counter to her usual slow style, it’s a low darting rush followed by an upward poison mist spray to the eyes

4. Mako: A newer babyface making a name for herself and the resident heavy for the Face side of the group. Normally easygoing but has a heated rivalry with Lockjaw given her position as the heavy of the Heel side and her use of foreign objects, which Mako finds particularly offensive

Signature move: A running clothesline propelled by the ropes

5. Sly: A former boxer and proudly dirty fighter, he uses his speed and footwork from boxing to create a unique shoot style of wrestling, wants to prove he’s the real deal and not just here as a post boxing career stunt

Signature move: A blindingly fast flicker jab adapted into vice grip of a choke slam

6. Rhea: Leader of the heel side of things and Champ’s long time rival and sparring partner. Their grudge matches always get the wildest crowds and Rhea in particular thrives on the hype, becoming more vicious as the excitement builds

Signature move: An extended backbreaker into a vicious slam where he gives his opponent plenty of time struggle for the crowd before driving them to the mat

[seventh-district]

“Why’s he call you Darlin’?”

on my knees begging my brain to stop trying to associate this song with Sam

[princekirijo]

World's most frustrating feeling: having multiple ideas and character designs but despite working on the thing for nearly 5 YEARS still being nowhere close to having a coherent plot 💀

[abelas]

you guys are gonna go feral for the characters im writing

[softeninglooks]

i've recovered a little since yesterday, but i never thought a game could hurt this much. ryujin nippon really gave it their all, they worked so hard, and this loss at the gates of the semifinals was heartbreaking. but it was such an extraordinary, overwhelming game, and as much as it still hurts, it was so fun 🥺 congratulations to team italy for qualifying for the semifinals, they played so thrillingly, and the fact that most of the players from both teams are friends added another special layer to an already extraordinary game!

watching rjn break down after the game broke my heart, they all worked so incredibly hard to get to the place they are now, but i am so proud of them, no matter the outcome of the olympics. this was coach blain's last game as rnj's coach, kentaro is retiring, nishida is taking a break, and sekita announced that he might be retiring too, so it truly feels like the end of something. but despite the tears, what a fantastic journey it has been. this team has achieved so much, from their bronze and silver medals in the vnl to their olympics journey. it may not have always been smooth sailing, but they made us dream, they took our breath away with their clever and impressive volleyball, they made us laugh, cry, smile. their smiles after plays and all the fun they seem to be having is infectious in the best way possible.

seeing our captain, yuki, come back stronger than ever was so deeply inspiring. like many fans, i was introduced to volleyball through haikyu!!, so i was familiar with fictional characters struggling and pulling themselves back up and persevering through everything. but watching yuki do just the same after the game against usa was so incredible - fictional characters can be inspiring like no other, especially in hq's case, but watching a real-life athlete do just the same hits in a different way. if a real person can do it, then we can do it too, it doesn't exist just on paper. yuki is a person i admire greatly, he changed japanese volleyball forever and gave this team his all, he leads with his whole heart and dedicates himself to volleyball fully. thank you for leading this team, yuki.

thank you for everything coach blain, and ryujin nippon, thank you for proving that volleyball is fun with every game, thank you fujii-san for looking after rjn. we will always be proud of you, so keep fighting. ❤️

[candyheartedchy]

Just want to thank everyone who’s been enduring my Spo.ngeBob fixation these past few days.

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Valicer In The Dark -- Fun With Trauma

Hi all -- it's time to talk about my VITD trio again! Specifically, today we're discussing their Traumas! :D Now, "Trauma" in Blades In The Dark refers to a condition your scoundrel picks up when they max out their stress during the course of their adventure -- once they fill up all their stress boxes, they have some sort of mental break, can no longer participate in the rest of the current score, and develop a new specific personality quirk that will haunt them for the rest of the adventures. A character can develop four traumas before they have to be retired from life as a scoundrel (either literally retiring or being thrown into jail as a sacrifice to the Bluecoats). On the plus side, each new trauma is also a chance to earn extra XP -- if your character struggles with the side effects of a trauma during a score, you can mark a point or two of XP for it and level up your character a little bit faster. The book has eight potential traumas for scoundrels to pick up -- Cold, Haunted, Obsessed, Paranoid, Reckless, Soft, Unstable, and Vicious -- but as I've thought about my trio and where I want them to go (and what other systems in the book I'd like to use), I've come up with somewhat more bespoke traumas for them:

-->Alice: Our favorite Cutter actually starts with a trauma -- as I've mentioned before, I looked at the description for the Haunted trauma -- "You’re often lost in reverie, reliving past horrors, seeing things" (pg 14) -- and went "yeah, that pretty well covers her hallucinations of Wonderland." (It's the reason she also gets two starting abilities instead of just one -- trade-off!) As for her next potential trauma, I was initially considering Vicious -- "You seek out opportunities to hurt people, even for no good reason" -- but then decided that perhaps a slightly more logical one would be a tweaked form called Overprotective -- "You make sure everyone knows that what's yours is yours, to the point of violence." Alice is, of course, protective of Victor and Smiler even before she picks up this particular trauma, but afterward, she can get a little overenthusiastic about keeping danger away from them, simply because she doesn't want to lose the people she loves again. That house fire where her family died did a number on her head, after all! The pair probably have to rein her in sometimes to make sure she doesn't accidentally cause them more trouble trying to keep them safe. I don't have a specific scene in mind for what triggers it, but I know it would have to involve Victor and/or Smiler getting hurt and her just letting loose to protect them.

-->Victor: My initial ideas for a trauma for our lovely Whisper were Paranoid -- "You imagine danger everywhere; you can’t trust others" -- as the result of a particularly dangerous score that spooked him badly, or Obsessed -- "You’re enthralled by one thing: an activity, a person, an ideology" -- as the result of him getting a little too much into studying the dangerous magic of Duskwall...but then, while researching the Ritual special ability to figure out how to create new rituals for Victor to use, I found the sample ritual "Portal to the Depths" -- which involves singing an ancient song to open a portal up into the Void Sea, swamping anyone unlucky enough to be in front of it with its dark water filled with mysterious starlight and dragging them into the cold depths. The thing is, whenever someone uses this ritual, along with taking six stress, they must also tick a progress clock called "Seduced By The Leviathan's Song."

Cue me coming up with a scene where Victor, having filled up that progress clock, is with Alice and Smiler at The Docks (yes, this the name of a neighborhood in the city; it is self-explanatory) -- and ends up getting mind-controlled by the song of a nearby Leviathan into nearly walking off one of said docks to either drown or get devoured. Fortunately, this is after the trio have started playing with hypnosis in their private lives, and Smiler and Alice are able to stop him in his tracks by invoking their control over his mind -- but the experience leaves Victor with the custom trauma Phobia -- "You are terrified of a particular person, thing, or place and refuse to be near it." As you might imagine, Victor's terror revolves around the ocean, and he refuses to be anywhere near it if he can -- no more scores involving The Docks for this trio!

-->Smiler: Deciding on any trauma conditions for our cheerful combination Leech/Slide was a bit tricky for me at first -- not only is Smiler a naturally-cheery person who takes a lot of things that would stress out others in stride (see them very casually talking to ghosts in "Start At The Beginning...Sort Of"), they also of course end up in possession of the ability Functioning Vice, which allows them to adjust how much stress they clear when indulging their Vice and makes emptying out that track between scores a lot easier. I really wasn't sure which of the ones on offer would actually fit them --

And then. While reading through the "Changing The Game" section of the book, I stumbled across the "Forgotten Gods" section in "Advanced Abilities and Permissions." Which details what happens when your character opens their mind to a forgotten god -- including access to the ability Glorious Visage, which allows the character to hit everyone in the vicinity with an image of the god's form, costing them three stress and causing everyone around them to at least flee in fear or be paralyzed with dread. The more traumatized the character, the more harm they can do, up to killing a specific person by shattering their mind. I was like "Oooooo, wow, creepy but neat" --

And then I was like "Smiler's already been touched by their god..."

Cue the creation of the custom trauma Vessel -- "Your body is capable of hosting the will of a forgotten god -- and they know it." The way I see this working for Smiler is, the first time they overmax their stress, their god Mar-Mal sees this, is like "!!! Let me help!" and straight-up possesses their body for the rest of the score. Fortunately they do leave once the danger is passed -- helped by Victor and Alice going "It would make us VERY HAPPY if you gave us Smiler back" -- and Smiler recovers from the experience, but the door has been opened in their head, and it's not being shut anytime soon. The trauma automatically gives them access to the customized special ability Joyous Visage -- where Smiler can use Mar-Mal's power to stun people with happiness (it works a bit like the "Hysteria" power in VTMB's version of the Dementation discipline, with people getting completely incapacitated by laughter) -- but every time Smiler uses that power, a die must be rolled. On a six, they use the power safely and only take two stress; on a five through two, they use the power but Mar-Mal takes an interest in the proceedings, forcing them to take three stress; and on a one, Mar-Mal is like "time to take over again!" and possesses their body for the rest of the score. On the plus side, Mar-Mal automatically succeeds at everything they do while in control of Smiler's body (they are a fucking god, after all); on the minus side, when they leave, Smiler has to deal with Level 2 "Post-Possession Exhaustion" harm (because hosting the power of a god is no joke). Smiler has mixed feelings about this whole situation -- on the one hand, they're super excited that they can host the will of their god and not die, but on the other...they are a little scared that maybe, one day, Mar-Mal won't give their body back...

And there we have it -- three lovely traumas for my characters to suffer with! I don't know yet when they'll come into play during all the various stories I have planned, but they are there when I need them! I'm sure the trio are thrilled. XD

[singsweetmelodies]

Shipping real people is so gross TF get a life

sending anon hate is so gross TF get a life

[mars-ipan]

talking to my mom is such a blast. meeting of the minds

[non-un-topo]

Lord help me I’ve gotten nothing done on my assignments today but I am outlining a fic that’s more like a bloody novel

[cryptidm0ths]

Thisng that are being manifested : kaname changes state (preferably wakes up and maybe joins the cast) during the graduation events very quickly followed by himeru fs2 as they scramble to gather an understanding of themself to project outside of their self imposed role of HiMERU

[hassiegfrieddoneanythingwrong]

I think the craziest pairing I've seen with him (I wouldn't really call it a pairing but more of a kink), is him/tentacles. Although that...fic...was more of a nonsense way by the author to free the Apocrypha copy of him from Gordes. Don't ask for details, I've scrubbed my brain of it in a hurry.

The second craziest being Siegfried/Sigurd and Siegfried/Siegfried (it's an au fic in Chinese so good luck). I swear I found the former somewhere on AO3, and only recall Siegfried viewing Sigurd as a better version of him from when I skimmed it out of morbid curiosity.

But the other pairings/interactions I've found with him that I do like are with Beowulf and Robin. All general and done by the same author way back in 2016. I would have never thought of such an idea (minus Beowulf because it's fun imagining how much he'd bellyache at him over Siegfried gaining powers with dragon blood while he died to dragon blood).

If you know how Robin handles himself in Extra, having Siegfried for a partner would be another drag for him because oh no another chivalry-soaked partner to deal with. But then also think about Robin in Salem, how he advises Ritsuka that no matter how hard they try, they can't save everyone. He cares in his own way. Bit of a shame Robin isn't the same Robin that had a friendship with Richard the Lionheart - otherwise I'd start making parallels if I wrote this pairing.

But man I do love the fic where Siegfried is dragged into a spice eating contest by Jeanne Alter and they win a vacation for it, in exchange for a stomachache. That one was funny.

Ah, but it is nice to speak about crack pairs involving Siegfried, especially since couple servants tend to make it difficult to talk about them without someone getting mad on behalf of a fictional couple who will never thank them for it. Thanks for that.

I've actually read the tentacle one before (back in '20 or '21, one of those years), and it's... definitely something. 😅 I think I've spent too much of my time on the internet to not be that squicked out on it, or something along those lines.

I'm curious - in a slightly twisted way - on the Siegfried x Sigurd ship, since I haven't seen it pop up before. Siegfried x Brynhild, yes, but not with Sigurd. And since they're counterparts to each other, would this be a variation of selfcest? 🤔 Great now I'm going to think too much on this

I haven't really seen Extra (have seen CCC, just not Extra), but I do know that Robin's deal in that entry is that his Master wishes to play fair and Robin... can't really do that as he is. So these two having an interaction, either as a ship or just in a platonic way sounds fun (Robin understands what Kriemhild and Master goes through on the daily 😔)

Ditto for Beowulf, that sounds like a really funny interaction (reminds me of how during the Apoc rerun I found it wild that in Siegfried's raid battle he would drop poisonous needles, like, "why are you dropping poisonous needles honey, is there something that you're not telling me???" lol).

I don't think I've ever seen the Jalter fic that you're talking about, but that also sounds really funny (they won the vacation, but at what cost?).

[dan-crimes]

airy for the Bingo 👀👀

I know my opinions are prolly wrong and controversial but I do not care anymore since the show has been over for a good while

So let me just tap into my old knowledge of how I feel about the show and Airy as a character

Alright so yeah I'm on the more extreme side of things of just like Airy didn't do anything wrong ever, this isn't even me being like oh favourite character or anything it's just kinda like I just genuinely do not think he was ever thinking about anything he was doing ever

Obviously he still did bad things but like the thing is, when you DIE you don't really DIE so death kinda loses its meaning and there isn't really that impact anymore of Airy killing people and he had to also die multiple times likely in order to get where he is

So UNDERSTANDABLY there is a lack of connection there, a lack urgency in death @ the Plane once Airy understands how to bring people back

Obviously there is still a LOT of fucked up shit if you REALLY think about it and really connect with the characters and try and feel what they must be feeling BUT to think Airy is this fucked up cold and unfeeling villain aware of his actions is just not it

He just isn't. There. He's not there lmao it doesn't really feel like there is a way to get it through to him that what he's doing is causing problems bcuz it's like a sandbox game for him he doesn't understand that things happen without him that those are PEOPLE existing in his little world that they have lives and are effected by his actions

He only has a connection when he sees Liam in person and like there were other times he showed care and concern but it's a lot more apparent when someone is physically there with you, you can see and feel them and they have an impact on you

Plus he did feel bad about what he had done in the past but there's not really a way for you to properly process that so understandably he just doesn't, like it obviously bothers him but he also doesn't want to be alone and I understand how boredom is a killer

Plus I think he's prolly always been a bit messed up but it really comes out when you've been thru things ur never gonna be able to fully understand or process so you simply don't and just accept things and do things a certain way bcuz you just gotta