#notable bc i stopped liking guy terms a while back?

[aliengummy]

1

[pascalpanic]

ok can i request a din djarin x reader where the reader is a badass but usually seduces her bounties to capture them, and din is both jealous and confused (bc she could kick anyone’s ass) and she whips out the line “don’t work for misogyny, make misogyny work for you” thank you so so much

Atin’la (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Being a female bounty hunter is a pain in the ass. When you meet a Mandalorian man and begin traveling with him, you meet seemingly the only man in the bounty hunting trade that respects women. Too bad he’s a hopeless romantic too.

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, alcohol, misogyny, threats of violence, mentions of weapons, Din doesn’t know how to emotion. rude terms to address a female (whore, bitch, etc.)

A/N: I had so much fun working on this request you guys! Fic requests are definitely open if inspiration strikes any of y’all. The bounty they capture in the later part is a Zabrak! I did some research into different humanoid species, and for reference, Zabraks are the species with a ring of horns on their head; the most notable one is Darth Maul. I linked the wookiepedia page here so you can get a feel for what they look like if you aren’t familiar with the species. 

atin’la- tough

Being a bounty hunter and a woman is much harder than being one or the other.

Sexism runs rampant in circles dominated by men, and bounty hunting was certainly one of those circles. Finding a man impartial to women was the best you could get in hopes of employment, a man who actually gave a shit about the women was a dream. 

Luckily, you’d happened across a man who seemed to see directly past gender. A man who you weren’t even sure was a human, covered in beskar and refusing to even tell you his name. He asked you to call him Mando, and that was that.

You’d happened upon the man during a bounty hunt. You were an independent contractor, working for yourself. You’d pick up pucks from slain hunters, more often than not, or you’d run a spare job for Karga or his rivals. Money was the number one concern for you, over loyalty to a certain guild or a certain code.

The hunt was going somewhat easily. It all changed when you looked down and found a tiny green being sipping soup. It smiled cutely at you with tiny white teeth and you abandoned your mission for a moment to give the little thing a scratch on its head. He seemed to appreciate that, leaning into your touch and slipping his wide brown eyes closed.

The being’s father didn’t like that. You looked up to find a beskar-clad, broad-shouldered man pointing a pulse rifle at you. “Step away from the child.”

“Relax,” you said quickly, putting your hands in the air. “I’m not here for him.”

“How do I know that?” The modulated voice growled at you. 

“I’m an independent bounty hunter. Let me show you.” You grabbed a puck and tossed it to the man, who skillfully caught it while balancing his pulse rifle, aiming it directly at your heart. The man- well, you assumed it was a man- pressed the button, illuminating the dark alley with a holographic image of a mythrol. “See? It was registered to Jido Korden. He’s dead now. I stole the puck from his body.”

The black slit in the helmet looked from the puck back up at you. “You’re not Guild?”

“No,” you laughed. “Why bother working for one side when you can keep your opportunities open?” You asked, a smirk on your face. 

He shook his head. “I was assigned to this mythrol too.”

“That’s too damn bad, Mandalorian,” you shrugged and walked closer, snatching the puck back from his palm. “Unless you want to work together,” you snorted as you pocketed the little round piece, turning off the hologram. You looked down at the kid again. “Nice meeting you, squirt,” you hummed to the kid and scratched its head before turning to walk away. 

“Independent, huh?” The Mandalorian asked, lowering his pulse rifle.

You stopped in your tracks. “Yeah. What about it?”

“You have skills. I’ve seen your image before.”

“Better not have been on a bounty puck.” You crossed your arms and turned around. “Where is this going?”

“I… am in need of crewmates. This kid is a kriffing handful, and I can’t keep watching him and running bounties. It’s just not working out.”

“That sucks,” you shrugged. “Is this an offer?” He stared at you for a second, unreadable. His visor stared directly into your face. “Yes. Come work with me. We’ll take turns running bounties and staying on my ship with the kid.”

“Oh, you have a ship,” you raised an eyebrow as you looked up and down his body. “I’m not a working girl, you do know that?”

“Of course I know that,” the man said, annoyance evident in his modulated tone. “This is not a… partnership of that kind.”

You bit your lip and tilted your head as you looked at the man, the child, and back to the man. “50/50 split of payment.”

“60/40.”

“Don’t make me negotiate a higher rate,” you chuckled. “50/50.”

“Fine.”

You smiled. “Looks like you’ve got a partner, Mandalorian,” you said, hands on your waist. You walked closer and offered him a hand. He took it and you shook on the deal. You introduced yourself and he nodded. “What’s your name?” You asked.

“You can call me Mando.”

-

That was how your partnership with Mando began. Now, you’ve worked together for a few weeks. His missions tend to run longer than yours, taking upwards of a week. That leaves you on the ship with the child more, but it’s nice. It’s almost fun to pretend domesticity when the Mandalorian man is gone, playing with the child.

Green bean, baby boy, cutie, kiddo, nugget. The kid had many names under your care. You wonder if Mando ever calls him sweet names when you’re the one gone. You hum to the child and put him in his little knit hammock, hanging above the technically-shared bunk. It’s not really yours or Mando’s. One of you sleeps in it when the other is on the mission. One side has a small shelf with some of your belongings- your glasses, wax for chapped lips, a durasteel flask for water. The other is bare. That’s Mando’s side. 

The child is asleep, and you’re curled up against the back wall of the bunk, reading something on a holopad. Your home planet has a newsfeed you can stream, and you smile softly as you scroll through it. You take a sip of water from the metal flask and hear the child stirring. He wants to be near you, you can tell, as he reaches out a tiny three-fingered hand toward you. 

Shaking your head, you chuckle. “Alright, bud. Come here,” you allow, and the child jumps from his hammock onto your stomach, causing you to make a soft oof as he lands on you. The child giggles and crawls up your body, cuddling in against your chest. You set down the holopad and stroke the child’s big ears. He makes a little coo of happiness, snuggling in and closing his eyes. As much as you’d tried to get the child to sleep in his hammock, every night was like this. He wanted to be held and sung to and kissed between his big eyes. He was a baby, you suppose. You wonder if Mando indulges the child by doing this when it’s just him and the child.

As you close your eyes, you find yourself thinking about the Mandalorian. You liked him, you had to admit, making you smile placidly at the backs of your eyelids. He had a dry sense of humor. He was good to you. He’d indulge in conversation with you between the times one of you would go out on a hunt. He’d listen to you talk and comment along on your stories. He was good at domestics, you’d notice when you came back from your turn hunting. He’d wash and fold the child’s brown robes and his own capes, would polish his weapons and sometimes you could even smell remnants of cooking in the hull of the ship. 

Yes, you have to admit, you like Mando. He’s a good man. He treats you and his little green son well. In response to his kindness, you do what you can for him. You get treats at the marketplace with the child and leave them on his pilot’s seat for him to find. You polish his beskar for him at night when he sleeps, in just a helmet and his flight suit, up in the cockpit whenever the two of you are both aboard the ship. You write him notes of thanks and tuck them around the ship for him to find.

You fall asleep thinking about the man, the enigma shrouded in beskar and dark clothing, while you held the child close to your chest.

-

Mando likes you too. He smiles when he finds a note from you tucked in his pack he carries on missions. He snacks on the candies that you get for him, and even shares them with the child. He falls asleep in the same bunk, thinking about you, the child nestled alongside him. 

When he’s on a hunt, he thinks about you and the child constantly. He wonders if you ever think about him the way he thinks about you. He wonders if you consider him a friend. He views you as one. He pictures the way your eyes twinkle when you and the child get into mischief. He thinks about the way you laugh at his dry humor, the way you send a snarky comment right back at him. The way you’re good to him. The way he secretly yearns for you, for your touch, for your lips and your arms around him. 

Now, as he’s dragging a knocked-out twi’lek back to the ship, he hopes you’re asleep. He hopes he can catch a glimpse of how relaxed you look when you sleep, the way your nose twitches when you’re dreaming and you press kisses to the child’s head in moments of half-consciousness. He hopes he doesn’t wake you as he lowers the Crest’s ramp and walks up, quietly as he possibly can. The carbonite freezer is loud, and it wakes you. “Mando?” You call as you hear it, sitting up.

“Just me, cyar’ika.” 

You don’t know what the word means, but Mando loves to address you by the title. It probably means bitch or snarky one or sassy, you sometimes think. “How did it go?” You ask as you hear the heavy footsteps of the man come to the end of bunk. 

“Easily. He was hard to find but easy to take down.”

“The best kind. More time away from me,” you tease, rubbing your eyes and looking at the hulking man, the red and blue lights from various appliances just barely illuminating his shape. 

“You like it that way, I’m sure,” he teases back, sitting on the end of the bed and stripping off the beskar, setting it on the floor with a clunk. 

“Actually…” you trail off, smiling a little. “I was thinking we could do the next hunt together. I’d like to see your style. My next one is on Tatooine, we could leave the child with Peli. She adores him.”

He turns to look at you. It’s unbearably domestic, your hair messy and your shoulders bare in your sleeping camisole and soft legs visible with the shorts you wear, your glasses slipping down your nose. It’s hard to believe you’re a bounty hunter in this moment, he thinks to himself. You look so delicate and warm and soft. The opposite of him, rough and rude and harsh. “Who’s Peli?” he asks after a moment.

“Mando!” You laugh and smack his bare arm. “The lady with the wild hair. She runs the hangar?”

“That’s her name?”

“Yes, you bantha,” you grin and shake your head. “Her name is Peli. I cannot believe you.”

The child awakens at the noise and makes a noise of excitement as he sees Mando. “Hey, kid,” the Mandalorian chuckles and picks up the child, setting him on his lap. The child hugs him and Mando gives a soft laugh as he hugs him back, lightly. 

“Go back to sleep, cyare. I’ll pilot us to Tatooine and you can finally show me how terrible you are at bounty hunting.” He pats your calf softly, with an ungloved hand, and you do your best not to shiver at the touch of his strong hands on your bare skin. 

“You get some rest too,” you tell him with a soft smile, placing your hand on top of his. Your fingers are so much smaller than his, so much more delicate, and you trace the tips along the back of his hand. He nods and stands, setting the child back down next to your side. You lie back down and cuddle the child into your chest, trying not to think about how strong and warm his hand felt on your skin.

-

Once you arrive on Tatooine, you suit up. Your hair is slicked back to the best of your abilities, and your glasses are replaced with contacts. You pull on your skin-tight black tank top and black cargo pants, strapping your holster belt around your waist, slinging your ammunition belt over your shoulder, where it rests between your breasts. You strap one blade to your thigh and another to your upper arm, and pull on your trusted combat boots. You’re ready. “You can come down,” you shout up to Mando, who’s been patiently waiting in the cockpit for you to get changed. 

The man climbs down the ladder in his full beskar. Tatooine is a hot planet, so he’s omitted the cape for this mission. You can see a peek of skin when he moves his head, showing a little bit of tanned skin, and it makes you bite your lip and turn away. “You ready?” You ask him as you sling his backup pulse rifle- which you’ve claimed as yours now- over your shoulder.

He nods. “Looks like you are too.” The child has already been left with Peli, so everything is set. He walks closer to you and removes one of his metal vambraces, strapping it to your arm. It looks odd against your bare skin, only ever having seen it against the dark material of Mando’s flight suits or duraweave shirts. “This button,” he says and points to a triangular button, “is the comm in case we get separated.”

“You’re gonna be the one needing it,” you tease, pressing the button on his other vambrace. It makes a screeching feedback sound from being so close to the other receiver and you wince before pressing it again to turn it off.

“Sure I will,” he chuckles. 

“Show me the puck one more time?” You ask, looking up into the black T of his helmet. He nods and pulls it out, pressing the hologram. It’s a male Zabrak with a name listed beneath: Gar Thalcyon. Crimes: Bail Jumping, Resisting Arrest, Grand Theft X-Wing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Men are easy,” you chuckle and take the puck, putting it in a pocket of your cargo pants. “Let’s go.” You walk out of the ship, leading Mando along.

You walk through the crowded marketplace of Tatooine, the Mandalorian man trailing behind you. Your head is held high. You don’t necessarily fit in; many Tatooinians wear robes and hoods to hide from the sun, but you obviously didn’t bother. The Mandalorian behind you most definitely doesn’t belong, attracting stares, but he doesn’t mind either. He’s used to it. 

Mos Eisley is, unfortunately, a dead end, you two discover after a day of searching. The bounty puck never indicates that you’re in the right location. Both you and Mando decide to get dinner at a cantina in town before you move on tomorrow. That’s what led the two of you to where you are: sitting in a more secluded booth, watching the cantina’s patrons get drunker by the minute. 

You’re sipping a bright pink cocktail, and Mando watches the world around the two of you, sneaking glances through his visor at you. “Isn’t this a little irresponsible for a mission?” You chuckle, swirling the skewer of fresh berries sitting in the glass in front of you. 

“He’s not around here. We’re not on mission time now,” he shrugs. 

“Oh, so is this like a date?” You tease with a smile. 

Mando freezes for a second. You hope you haven’t offended him somehow, but he tilts his head as he watches you. “Do you want it to be one?”

You bite your lip and swirl your drink faster. “I don’t know. It’s a little impractical for coworkers, for co-bounty hunters, is it not?” You chuckle, but there’s no humor in your voice as your throat goes dry. 

“It would be,” he nods in agreement. “But our job is only a contract between us. One that can be amended.”

You have a shy smile as you look up at him. “Do you want it to be one, Mando?” You ask. 

He’s silent for a moment. You mentally curse the beskar for hiding his expressions from you. 

“I do,” he finally acknowledges. 

The smile on your face breaks into a grin. “Then I guess we’re on our first date,” you laugh, sipping your neon-colored drink with a smile you can’t get off your face. “I suppose if we’re dating, I should know your name,” you ask him. 

It’s the first time you’ve pushed. You’ve never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked why he didn’t. You’ve been kind and caring and patient and damn, he wants to tell you so bad, but his eyes drift to the side and he sees a Zabrak walk in, and he immediately recognizes him as your target. 

Mando nods to the side. “Take him down and I’ll tell you.”

You look where he nodded and frown. “So much for a date,” you pout and look back at Mando. Sighing, you pick up your drink and stand. “Just know that I only have feelings for you, okay?” You ask, a hand on his shoulder as you walk to his side. 

“...Okay,” he nods, and you walk off, an extra sway in your hips. You may be wearing cargo pants, but your tight top and cinched belt accentuate your body. You’re gorgeous, Mando has to admit. 

The man sits at the bar and you pull up a stool next to him, smiling a little and sipping at your brightly colored drink. “Hey there.”

The man’s eyes look you up and down, and he licks his lips with an odd colored tongue. “Hey yourself. What’s your name, pretty thing?” He asks with hungry eyes. 

You need a cover name and you need it quick. “Manda,” you blurt with a smile, trying to hold back a laugh at the fact that you literally picked your date’s name- well, the one you know him by- but slightly augmented.

You rest your hand on the bar and the man picks up your hand, kissing your knuckles. “You can call me Gar.”

“Hello, Gar,” you giggle and bat your eyes at him. “What’s a man like yourself doing on Tatooine, hm?” You ask him, swirling your drink and sipping it as you look at him with doe eyes. 

He shrugs and looks forward, signaling the bartender for a drink. “I’m a wanted man, my dear,” he says with a salacious smile. 

He sure fucking is, you think to yourself, and you can’t help but snort. Maker, men are ridiculously easy targets. Your plays into your theme, at least. “Oh, and for what?” You ask, leaning in closer. You sneak a sedative dart from a pocket of your pants, holding it in the hand beneath the bar. 

“Stole an x-wing right off a Resistance base,” he chuckles, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” You giggle, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

He’s about to launch into a spiel when you stab the tranquilizer dart into the back of his hand. “Actually, don’t bother. I already know,” you chuckle, face close to his. He makes a noise of agony and surprise at the needle in his hand, and his body starts slumping. “Never lead by saying you’re a criminal,” you murmur next to his ear and stand, wrapping one of his arms around you and forcing him to walk along with you. 

“You’re a wanted man alright,” you chuckle as you walk out of the bar. You press the button on your comm. “Headed to the Crest. Cover our tab?” You ask into the vambrace. 

There’s a beat of silence. “Already on it, cyare,” the Mandalorian’s voice speaks through the beskar plate on your forearm. “How did you-

“Don’t work with misogyny, make misogyny work for you,” you grunt into the metal and drop your arm. 

The man groans as you drag him along. He looks drunk to anyone else, just barely coherent. “Fuckin’ bitch. Mandalorian’s little whore, huh?” he slurs at you, weakly trying to wrestle free of your grip but failing.

You push him into a nearby wall, twisting his arm at an impossible angle. “Try it again and I rip the horns from your head one by one,” you hiss into his ear.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he whimpers and you let him go, pulling him into the earlier position.

Peli’s hangar is only a short distance away. As you enter, the green toddler squeals in excitement and runs over to you. “Hey cutie,” you laugh as you see him. Peli isn’t far behind. “Go sit with Peli a little longer, let me get this guy in the ship, okay baby?” You tell him, and he obeys, waddling back to Peli, who gives you a little wave.

“Goddamn,” the Zabrak man groans. “That mando is green under there, then? How could you fuck something like that-”

“I can and will slit your throat right now and let you bleed out. You want your life?” You murmur, grabbing the blade from your thigh and holding it to his neck. He nods frantically. “Then shut the fuck up,” you grunt to him and haul him up the ramp, into the carbonite freezer. He begs and pleads until the hiss of the freezer begins and the man is sealed. “Thank the fucking Maker,” you groan as the words stop. 

You climb back down the ramp to find Mando already holding the child and paying Peli. He thanks her one last time and you take the baby from Mando’s arms. “Were you flirting with him?” He asks, wasting no time. His tone is deadpan.

“Clearly.”

“Why the hell-”

“I wasn’t doing it for fun,” you grimace at him. “This is my fucking method. It’s much fucking easier, and if I have the advantage I might a well take it.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“That’s too fucking bad, Mando,” you practically spit, whipping around and walking deeper into the ship with the baby in your arms. “It’s my-”

“Din.” 

You turn around and look at him. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask, clearly annoyed. 

“My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

The anger fades from your body quickly. “Din,” you say back to him, slowly. 

He nods. “I… just got jealous, I suppose. I’m sorry.”

You finally offer a small smile, albeit a tired one. “Thank you. I don’t like doing it either but… it’s my way,” you shrug. 

He walks closer, putting a hand on each of your arms. “I get it.”

You smile softly and put one hand over his beskar-clad chest. “I told you, I only have feelings for you,” you tell him.

He nods softly. “I’m glad. I like it that way.”

Chuckling, you shake your head. “Well, Din. I suppose we could finish our date in here. I could cook something.” You look down at the little green child in your arms. “With him, maybe it’ll be more of a family night.”

Din cups your face in a leather-gloved hand. “Thank you, cyare,” he murmurs, thumb tracing over your cheek.

“What does that mean?” You ask him, looking into where you think his eyes sit beneath the helmet.

He presses your forehead to his, the beskar cool against your warm skin from the Tatooine air. “Beloved,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing your cheekbones.

A small gasp escapes your lips before they form a smile. “Beloved,” you hum back as he wraps an arm around you. “I like being called that.”

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers

[yostresswritinggirl]

Do you do poly ships? :0 if not feel free to do these two characters separately lol May I get some hcs of Zhongli and Venti on a picnic date with the reader? Just a quiet day in the sun where the Archons can relax for a moment and watch the world go by :D (if you wanna insert some angst maybe they suddenly realize this moment is fleeting bc reader is mortal and won't be with them forever?? Up to you lol 👀) thank you in advance!!!

I actually don't :D kidding ahahah

What I meant to say was that I haven't wrote anything related to poly relationship before so this a cool, first experience for me! And like the dumbass that I am, I took on this request and butchered the heck outta it. Welcome to "A Day In The Life Loving Two Broke Gods"-

Rendezvous with the Gods

Picnic Scenario with Poly!Venti, Zhongli, and You

Background!

It's pretty WACK how you got two of the seven archons to be interested in you in a romantic level.

But I can imagine that the thing that attracted them the most to you is your sense of humanity. As ex-archons, what they needed now is a sense of normalcy and a grasp on reality, and with your knowledge and presence they've come to realize the ways of the mortals fairly easily.

But like, you got the two oldest archons in existence. Even the Traveler is in disbelief at this turn of events.

I think you somehow ended up in this situation when the two of them had a reunion after their retirement, and the conversation went like this: "Have you heard of the fair maiden, (Y/N)? Their existence greatly reminds me of Celestia!" "I had the honor of meeting them yes, how tantalizing they are, even the slightest sight of them invigorates me through the whole day."

They'd shower you with praises among one another, and you're forced to sneeze for an hour straight somewhere in Teyvat.

Preparation!

*wheeze*

First thing I thought was "How probable is it that Venti drinks Dandelion Wine at 4 in the afternoon?"

The answer is yes.

You three have planned this picnic days ahead, maybe even a week. As all of you have your own work and errands to deal with, probably not Venti tho, a gathering of this magnitude that requires you three to be present for hours are not as common as you'd think.

First order of business: location! The most obvious answer would have been Starsnatch Cliff, Windrise or even Dihua Marsh.

While thinking, Venti and Zhongli ended up sharing a look, and suddenly the location was settled.

No, you don't know where it is, and they tell you that they'll handle it.

You don't have to worry.

You are very worried.

Next, the food! Being in a relationship with two broke Gods made you the alpha in terms of Mora, and on this occasion, you're once again forced to put your foot down and provide.

With that in mind, both of them could only offer a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

The outcome of your meal depends on your cooking skills really: if you're good or decent, what a heart-warming picnic that would be.

They must have tasted your cooking before so they would ask for requests on your delicious home cooking —

something light that goes with tea, said Zhongli.

something meaty and heavy to pair with wine, said Venti.

It's a wonder how you deal with these two together.

If you're absolutely terrible at cooking, like Suspicious Dish™ rating, you're gonna have to rely on your Mora to get takeout for this date.

Everything else you've pretty much wrapped up quickly, all you have to do now is wait.

Picnic Time!

Venti was the one to pick you up from your housing to guide you to the location, greeting you with a chaste kiss on the cheek before aiming for the picnic basket hanging by your elbow.

You don't let him; he might eat it on the way there honestly

Cute boy is practically shaking with excitement as he hauls you up over a cliff face and carefully nyoom! over the sea

Where is he taking you?

You didn't dwell much longer when you saw a small island in the distance, a rock formation by the edge and most notably, you're tall lover standing next to an elegant patterned brown and gold blanket placed over the sea of flora.

Welcome to Heart Island!

Very cheesy

The Geo archon greets you with a kiss on the hand before being tackled to the ground by a buzzing Venti.

How that was physically possible was beyond you-

You set up and laid down all the food you got for today's picnic: Fresh apples, 'Breakfast' Sandwich, Chicken and Mushroom Skewers!

You've also noticed a picnic basket to the side that wasn't yours. Noticing your stare, Zhongli pulled out his contributions: Mora Meat, a pitcher of Iced Tea, and a bowl of Mushroom Stew.

Out of nowhere, Venti manifests his own offerings to the table: Apples, Dandelion Wine and Mondstadt Hash Browns.

You have no idea how these two managed to prepare or afford such meals but you appreciate it nonetheless.

They had the whole week to save up Mora just for this picnic, how cute aww

The first to take a bite is Venti, defo. You and Zhongli would be prepping the utensils while the Anemo boy sneaks some food into his mouth, even if you smack his hand multiple times, he's not gonna relent.

A lot of catching up happens in this picnic: your wild commissions, Venti's recent performances, Zhongli's uh consultant stuff.

These are the rare moments where Zhongli isn't the one filling up the conversation more, satisfied with hearing the voices of his lovers and listening to their joys or woes.

The whole picnic is accompanied by Venti's lyre, strumming softly, unrelenting, to make sure all of you are enjoying the serenity of the island.

You and Zhongli take turns spoon feeding him cuz he just won't stop PLAYING

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Very refreshing, right amount of sweet, would honestly be a good alternative for Venti's alcoholism

Speaking of, he's tipsy now

He's on a full-blown performance now, serenading and urging you two into a dance after eating "to digest the food faster"

Not really believable but you danced anyways.

Zhongli would decline first as he starts cleaning up

But give him a little more nudge, pull on his hand, he'll crave eventually

Rex Lapis is actually a pretty decent dancer

HAVE YOU SEEN HOW GRACEFUL HE DROP KICKS HIS SPEAR

Such a relaxing day off the three of you deserve

By the time the sun already dipped the horizon and you guys still had time to spare, you and Venti would be dozing off on the blanket while leaving the few remaining clean up to Zhongli. It was a tiring yet enjoyable day that's deserving of a nice and dreamy nap.

"Morax..." He'd hear an uncharacteristically somber voice as he makes his way over to where you both lay. Your back resting on the Anemo archon's chest as he spoons you. His teal eyes stare unmoving at your open palm of which the Geo archon takes into his as he sits down.

Little cuts litter your rough hands, from your adventures, some fresh from today to prepare your dishes. How frail and sensitive mortal hands are.

"I'll miss them, so so much." Venti confessed as his grip around you tightens, free-flowing tears erupt from his eyes that are unfocused, as if he was years away with that thousand yards stare that the other God had familiarized himself with.

For the second time in his whole lifetime, Rex Lapis found himself at a loss for words.

------

"Ohhh, a luxurious chest! What's it doing so far out here?" The Traveler lets the floating companion ramble as they pull the chest open, excited for the new artifacts they'll come by.

A teal goblet with gold accents worn out through the years from disuse as parts of its paint are chipped off as gray splotches, laid perfectly in the middle of a brown wool blanket with intricate gold and silver geometric patterns. On each side lays an Anemoculus and Geoculus, softly glowing yet dimming in pulses.

They pick it up with utmost care for safe-keeping, to ask for their archon friends in the future. Who knows, it might be the closure they needed.

This took some time and a lot of pondering wow! This is even more chaotic than the Albedo one ahahah I've made myself sad just thinking about this— anyways thank you so much for requesting and your lovely support! Please let our archon bbs be happy ywy

[dannyphantom-rewrite]

Character ref for; Jack, Maddie and Jazz,

Art by @gally-hin / @gally-hin-phantom

Okay so first off; in terms of Actual redesign, I didn't change a whole lot. I'm actually very fond of Jack and Maddie's design's, my only real issue was with their proportions. Like...look as a lady person who is also thiCC I do not have a fucking wasp thin waist and I'm sure I'm not the only one, lmao. As for Jack? Godamnit he looked like a brick on toothpicks. Just Let him be a fucking Bara man! Anyway of course I asked Gally to do this one bc they're fucking great at drawing different body types

I also cannot and will not take credit for Jazz's outfit. I didn't have any issue with her canon clothes aside from them being a bit plain, so what she's wearing here was literally pulled straight off of her original concept art, which I will link here.

Anyway, getting to the Actual character lore now, let's start with

Maddie Fenton

-Full name is Madeline (I haven't decided on a maiden name yet)

-Born and raised on a farm in Arkansas, had a southern accent that she trained herself out of in college bc it was just one more reason for people not to take her seriously. Still sometimes uses "y'all" completely unironically bc old habits die hard.

-She has a really big family, and they're proud of her accomplishments but feel like she's wasting her talent studying ghosts, because really, up until the Fenton portal was up and running there wasn't even any solid proof they existed. Her sister Alicia is the one outlier there, and even if she doesn't understand, it she completely supports her.

-She majored in engineering and minored in psychology at Wisconsin EDU. Her, Jack and Vlad were all in the same engineering class, and that's where they met.

-Maddie is particularly interested in how ghosts think, analysing their behavior, their motives. Not only that, but they aren't just dead people with unfinished business, they've built an entire culture in the Ghost Zone that is completely seperate from humanity, and she wants to understand all of it.

-skilled marksman and 9th degree black belt, (which is. The highest fucking level there is holy shit? I looked it up after I saw it on her wiki page.)

Jack Fenton

-He's from Minnesota (Amity park is in Illinois and him and Maddie didn't move there until after they got married) 

-okay, "but why minnesota specifically" you ask? Because. I crave. Foot ball discourse. 

-minnesota vikings vs green bay packers guys do you UNDERSTAND WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS 

-The funny thing is that Jack only watches football casually while Vlad is a fucking die hard so when these two got together to see a game it was like....

-Jack: Here to chill and have a good time.

-Vlad: Primed and ready to start a fist fight at any given moment.

-I am never not going to be salty about how Canon Jack was portrayed like a complete moron 99% percent of the time. Like no...theres a difference between Actual Stupid and ADHD induced dumbass-ery.

-Am I saying Jack Fenton has ADHD? Yes. why? Because I also have ADHD and I have always vibed So Hard with his Character.

-Jack is loud and easily excited about things that interest him. He's impulsive and fidgety and yeah, a bit absent minded. He has a mouth that clearly runs so much faster than his head. His train of thought doesn't get derailed so much as it stops and takes several different detours on the way to it's final destination.

-and that's only the tip of the iceberg, really, I'd need an entire essay to get into this completely, but I just really relate.

-Jacks skill-set / interests regarding ghosts vary a bit from Maddie's, most notably in the sense that he doesn't believe that they're static entities already set in their ways, completely incapable of change.

-Jack majored in engineering and minored in Biology at Wisconsin EDU.

-Jack's work with tech is a bit hit or miss. He definitely HAS the engineering skills, but the intrest isn't always there and he's constantly jumping back and forth between different projects. He tends to focus on the concept work and schematics and leave most of the assembly to Maddie as a result. It's an arrangement that works well for them, and has drastically decreased the number of unintentional explosions in the lab.

-A lot of Jack's work tends to revolve around ghostly biology and Ectoplasm, figuring out how ghosts are made, what makes them tick, what the hell Ectoplasm Actually Is, how it's used as an energy source, ect.

-and yes, that does also mean he handles the dissections.

-See that facial scar? Yeah, that's not actually there at the start of the series rewrite but it's very important for plot reasons so I had to include it. Can't say much more on the subject because SPOILERs owo.

Jasmine Fenton

-Jazz is a 18 years old, and a senior at Casper high.

-Which means she prepping to go away to college and won't be around to keep an eye on Danny.

-Obviously that doesn't mean I'm just writing her out of the story, oh no. Know why? Because she's also gonna go to Wisconsin EDU. ya know who else is in Wisconsin? Fuckin' Vlad.

-Jazz is autistic, Although she passes for neurotypical in part due to symptoms being completely over looked in girls due to gender stereotyping and also the fact that she doesn't have any special interests that are considered " "too weird.""

- Her hyperfixation with psychology started at a young age in an effort to better understand people, and social/emotional cues and all that.

-Jazz is well liked at school but she's not popular or apart of any specific group or clique. She's very kind and compassionate to people, and just about everyone knows her, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually Considered her a friend. Except maybe Spike.

-I'm gonna have to give spike his own Character ref at some point, but he's this scary looking goth kid that's been held back twice. He's actually super sweet, just really fuckin' quiet and anxious. Him and jazz kinda ended up gravitating towards each other. She might do most of the talking, but they look out for each other.

-its not like jazz doesn't try to socialize, but it's difficult and she's found it much easier and less stressful to just. Keep to herself and let her interactions with her peers stay shallow and superficial. Sure, it's lonely sometimes but it's better than constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing or making some other misstep.

-One of Jazz's other special interests is football, and it's not so much the players or the game as it is the strategy of it? Started out as one of those things you do to bond with your dad, and she ended up getting really into it.

-She absolutley winds up getting into stupidly intense discussions with Vlad about it, too, lmao.

-Her and Danny probably bonded over SBNation bc that shit has both sentient satellites and ridiculously complex football mechanics.

-She's completely oblivious to the fact, but Dash has a massive crush on her bc holy shit this girl understands football (hey bud your toxic masculinity is showing put that shit away)

-I mentioned that Danny was in Cheer for a bit in middle school so it makes sense that she'd also be pushed into doing some kind of extracurricular activity.....so.....she was in a martial arts class for a bit thanks to Maddie and has a good grasp on self defense.

I think that's everything? I feel like I'm leaving things out tho? Idk if I did I'll come back and add on to this later and also pls don't hesitate to ask questions bc it really helps me flesh things out better.

[karasunovolleygays]

UshiIwa Fic Recs

(that nobody asked for)

Hello! It’s my distinct pleasure to welcome you all to UshiIwa hell! I’ve been malingering here for years, but with new developments in canon, it looks like I am no longer stuck on Gilligan’s Island (me plus the six other sad bastards i’m stranded with). 

As a long time sufferer of this ship, I would like to introduce you to some of my favorite UshiIwa stories, including a few of my own bc tag smol. :’)

Rating: G/T

I Lose Control by voices_in_my_head Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, OMC (Coach) Summary: "He looks to the bench, where Iwaizumi’s eyes dance from player to player." Words: 1,538 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: this is an interesting study of how Ushijima would deal with an injury at a crucial moment when everyone is counting on him, plus a dose of priority.

Cordially Uninvited by Karasuno Volleygays (that’s me) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Possible Current Manga Spoilers, Established Relationship, Paparazzi Summary: Paparazzi haunting notable people has always been a problem, but Hajime and Wakatoshi opt to clear the air on their own terms. Words: 1,279 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I thought it would be interesting to see how Ushijima would deal with celebrity and subsequently strangers poking their noses in his personal business.

Three Doors Down by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, More Fluff, pretty bara men bonding over dogs Summary: When Ushijima inherited a property that had seen better days, he found himself spending a lot of time and effort in a new part of town restoring the house to its former glory. However, he didn't expect a litter of puppies in a yard a few houses over to revive his spirit, as well.

He certainly didn't anticipate their owner stirring something to life within him, either, but that was a development he didn't need much coaxing to get used to. Words: 13,145 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: I have no excuses for how fluffy this is.

you're good, too quickly admitted by pyrality Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Coffeeshop AU, College AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Awkward Flirting Summary: Iwaizumi sits back in the chair, "Oikawa thinks I could do better."

Ushijima swallows, eyes still on his laptop screen, "And what do you think?"

"I think I'd like to go out to lunch with you sometime."

He looks up at the other boy, feeling warm at the sight of Iwaizumi's crooked, barely there smile, a challenging twinkle in his eye.

"Oh," Ushijima manages before he recomposes himself, "I'd like that.” Words: 2,731 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: UshiIwa dating to spite Oikawa is too good to turn down.

Alight by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Time Skips, Rivals to Lovers Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime can't believe his soulmate is the guy who just wiped the floor with his team, but there is no denying the fact that he is irrevocably linked to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 4,504 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you’re interested in them getting to know each other through their failures and vulnerable moments, this is probably your jam.

Baby It's Cold Outside by RarePairGremlin Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Winter, Cuddling, light grinding, hints to smut but nothing is described, jaw kiss, Kissing, Fluff, Established Relationship Summary: The childish grin spread over his lips again as he faced them, his gaze roaming up them slowly as an idea formed. Ushijima, ever prepared, was fully dressed in thick socks a pair of blue sweats, which they had tucked into their socks like the crime against fashion they are, and a thick hoodie. He knew for a fact, since he’s stolen it enough times, that the hoodie was fuzzy and soft on the inside. Beside them lay a steaming cup of tea, the bag still steeping inside as they liked their tea strong, and the aforementioned throw lay comfortably across their lap. A perfect image of warm and cozy.

It would be a shame if someone was to disturb that now wouldn’t it? Words: 1,471 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly what it says on the tin, plus a bonus NB Ushijima!

the ghost in your room by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Unrequited Love, Unrequited IwaOi, oikawa is a bit of a dick Summary: Hajime finds a way to get over Oikawa Words: 1,173 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s an oddly pleasurable mixture of fluff and a punch in the throat.

Good Graces by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Arguments, Mending Fences Summary: Hajime is pissed at Wakatoshi for something he admits he did until he finds out the real reason he did it. Then he feels like a jackass. Hopefully, his live-in boyfriend is up for a good old fashioned groveling session. Words: 2,059 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: Making your otp mad at each other is hard and it hurts, but the communication afterward is so important. 

lit the very fuse by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Getting Together, Unrequited Love, Christmas Eve, Mostly Fluff, ushiwaka is a soft boy, you can never convince me otherwise Summary: Hajime isn't sure what he and Ushijima are to each other, but he knows he's still stuck on Oikawa. Words: 2,609 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you like FWB to Lovers, step right up and scream into the void with me. 

Once An Enemy. by BGee93 Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends, Aged-Up Character(s), Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, Volleyball Dorks & Nerds, volleyball mentioned not played, Getting to Know Each Other, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Coffee Shops, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Aobajousai, Shiratorizawa, boyfriend sweater, Confusion, Cliche, cliches, Awkward RomanceAwkward Meetings, meme team - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Romance, very slow burn, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Bonding, Forced Bonding Summary: 'It took several minutes to catch his breath again and to stop hissing through his teeth at the areas that throbbed, until they were just a dull ache. Once Iwaizumi felt he was able to move again he slid his hands up the strangers chest, ignoring the ripple and twitches his touch caused since the situation was already awkward enough without Iwaizumi appreciating the well toned muscle under his fingertips, as he pushed himself up till he was able to look at the persons face. There was more lighting on the bottom floor, as it was closer to the illuminating street lamps outside, so he was able to make out exactly who the man was within mere seconds despite the face still being quite shadowed. And the identity shocked him into stilling every joint, muscle and fiber of his being.

Oh hell no.' Words: 20,130 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was written for me as a gift in an exchange a while back. Have I stopped screaming about it? Not bloody likely.

Rating: M

Focus (On Me) by Verbrennung Tags: Underage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ushijima is a 1st year, lots of staring, and looming, and crowding, Seijou!Ushijima, rated for ~makin' out~ Summary: Nobody had foreseen future Super Ace Ushijima Wakatoshi transferring from Shiratorizawa to Aoba Johsai for high school. Everyone's curious to know why, and as Iwaizumi discovers, some of his reasons are... unexpected.

An AU in which everything is mostly the same except Ushijima is a first year at Aoba Johsai and has a huge, looming crush on Iwaizumi. Words: 12,454 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This should probably be rated T instead, but whatever. If you ever wanted to know how much of an awkward bastard both of them are when they’re into someone, this is your jam.

Point Blank by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Future Fic, Brief (but pertinent) Mention of Homophobia, Slow Burn, Financial shenanigans, Scary Men with Guns, Minor Character Death Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime accepted a position at a company that was going places, and he knew he had a bright future ahead of him if he just kept his head down and worked hard — a future his family desperately needed him to achieve. He didn't count on an old rival working in the same building, nor Ushijima Wakatoshi's surprisingly cordial demeanor, yet he managed to make an unlikely friend and an even more unlikely roommate.

But when Iwaizumi climbed up the company ladder and into some of the more shadowy recesses of the corporate realm, he knew they would both get more than they bargained for, and the only person he knew he could trust was Ushijima. Words: 44,981 Chapters: 12/12 My notes: This was my first UshiIwa and I still think about it a lot. Imagining these guys in regular jobs is strange, but kind of endearing when you get a feel for how they live their lives after volleyball.

Rating: E

Flare by fish_wifey Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, From dislike to like, Tension, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Dressing Room Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial Summary: Ushijima's forwardness makes Iwaizumi edgy, but after they figure their shit out, it's Iwaizumi who brings Ushijima on edge. Words: 7,687 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: Enemies to lovers speed run ahoy!

Tangled Webs by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Black Widow AU, Assassin Iwaizumi, Crime boss Ushijima, alcohol use, Drugging, dubcon elements, Angst Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime is a seasoned killer, with wit sharp enough to cut and reflexes to match. He's never missed a kill. That is, of course, until he meets his new mark — Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Can Ushijima offer Iwaizumi what he truly desires, on top of a night of heated passion that can only end one way? Words: 4,120 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was some fucked up stuff, but sweet baby jesus it was a wild ride to write.

Unraveled by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Bondage, Knife Play, Edging, Rough Sex, Flogging, Breathplay, Toys, Dubious Morality Summary: After his liberation from his past life, Iwaizumi adjusts to life with Ushijima. But something is missing, and Ushijima picks the strangest (and most erotic) way to give it to him. Words: 5,145 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s cute that I thought the first fic in this series was fucked up. This one was clearly more so, but noragerts.

Poly/Multiship ft. UshiIwa

4 AM by ApparentlyAda Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, this is so stupid, I'm Sorry, Oikawa and Ushijima talk about dogs, Iwaizumi is Oikawa and Ushiwaka Trash #1 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: "Ushiwaka."

"Yes?"

"What if one day you woke up as a chicken?"

"What if one day you shut the fuck up?", interrupts Hajime groggily.

(Or, simply put, the awful(ly amazing) conversations these three dorks have during sleepless nights) Words: 1,064 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I hope you like banter and Oikawa roastage haha

Bridge the Gap by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Divorce, Past Child Abuse, Lawyer! Oikawa, Police officer iwaizumi, Flower Shop Owner Ushijima, child kageyama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Meet the Family, chap 6 is the familys ongoing mission to keep kags hydrated, chap 7 is meet the parents edition, Internalized Homophobia, just a touch of it really Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru and Ushijijma Wakatoshi love each other more than anything, but sometimes that’s not enough, especially in a world that doesn’t love them back. Tiny cracks begin to widen, ever so slowly, until the gaps they leave seem insurmountable.

They find their answers with each other, and surprisingly enough, with the little boy loitering outside their window.

—-

Or, a story of disconnects and the love it takes to bridge them. Words: 121,443 Chapters: 18/18 My notes: It’s long with a lot of heavy themes, but if you look at the tags and think you can get through them, it’s so worth it.

a taste of heaven by beatboxbmo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Polyamory, Birthday baking, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s) Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: tooru comes home early on his birthday to see his two boyfriends asleep on the couch. they baked him a surprise. Words: 2,141 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly as warm and gooey as it sounds.

Three's A Crowd by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Romance, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Miscommunication, Dating, First Kiss, a mess, These Boys are a MESS, Chatlogs, Light Angst, Polyamory, OT3 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi loves Oikawa.

Oikawa loves Iwaizumi.

Neither of them will say anything.

Then, suddenly, Ushijima is there.

And things get very complicated. Words: 32,385 Chapters: 9/10 My notes: Normally I don’t put WIPs on rec lists, but this one is close to completion and it’s so, so worth it. Boys are dumb and you should appreciate them.

adolescence and all its glory by pageleaf Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Wooing, Future Fic, College/University, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Fluff, Flirting, Established Iwaoi, eventual OT3, Threesome - M/M/M, Manga Spoilers Summary: Iwaizumi was supposed to meet new people. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do, when you go to a different university from your best friend? Now that his life isn’t filled with Oikawa, he should have been making new friends, trying new things, whatever.

Instead, he shows up barely on time to his anatomy class, hears a small noise from beside him, and turns around to see Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 20,024 Chapters: 2/2 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Accidental rivals to lovers? Enjoy the sound of me screaming into the abyss, and the abyss screams back.

Close For Comfort by Leryline Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, NSFW, ushioi - Freeform, really sinful but great, Angst, it has a happy ending i promise, iwaoi - Freeform, Phone Sex, Rough Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Romance, Threesome, Double Penetration, Spitroasting, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Cheating, but look it's integral to the plot ok, ROMANC E AHGHGNJD it's so gay, turning a oneshot into a multi-chap out of spite: a novel by me, also: don't cheat on people irl my dudes it's not cool. not cool.like legit please DO NOT Summary: Oikawa Tōru has always seen his future with Iwaizumi Hajime - solely, utterly, completely. After all, Iwaizumi is his pillar, the only person he needs in the world.

...right?

[or: Ushijima Wakatoshi comes in and fucks everything up, as usual, but Oikawa has never given in easily, and neither has Iwaizumi, for that matter.] Words:61041 Chapters: 15/15 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: If infidelity makes you uncomfortable, even if it has a happy ending all around, I would pass on this one. The smuts, however, are top shelf.

Privacy by plumtrees Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, House Party, Alternate Universe - College/University, Future Fic, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Riding, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Partner Swapping Summary: Iwaizumi reaches for the knob by his hip, easily twisting it open and getting them both inside. They stumble in with their lips still sealed over each other’s, silent giggles passing between mouths as Oikawa hurries to flatten his hand against the door to shut it and crowd Iwaizumi against the surface, other hand winding around his waist to pull him close, keep him there—

But then an alarmed noise rips from Iwaizumi’s throat, the hand steady on his shoulder suddenly pushing him away Iwaizumi’s looking behind him, expression a mix of shock and mild horror and Oikawa follows a split second later, just in time for a moan to resonate past the muffled music being carried over from downstairs.

“Oikawa.” Ushijima greets, only the slightest tremor to his voice as Shirabu sinks down on his cock. “Tendou didn’t mention you’d be here.” English Words: 9,736 Chapters: 1/1 Relationship: UshiShiraIwaOi My notes: Good lord this is spicy. This is ‘swinging’ in its truest form.

Show Me You Own Me by preciousghouls Rating: E Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome, Rimming, Barebacking, BDSM, Daddy Kink, on oikawa's part, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Bottom!Iwaizumi, bottom!Oikawa, top!oikawa, top!ushijima, switch hitter oikawa, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, i have sinned, sleeping drug in five lines, Consensual, Begging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Petplay, Collars, Cuffs, Butt Slapping, Spanking, Butt Plugs, domestic AU, Crossdressing Summary: It's Oikawa's idea, of course. But Iwaizumi finds himself loving the way Ushijima has Oikawa wrapped around his fingers, and before long they're both moaning at the hands of Ushijima.

aka the kinkiest shit I've ever written in my life. Words: 20,819 Chapters: 4/4 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Sometimes wanting to be dommed by ushiwaka is a communal mood, ya know?

Tumblr Fics

(mostly not rated/tagged; proceed with caution and at your own discretion)

Untitled by notsuchasecret

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by deathbelle

Comfortable by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Morning Kisses by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Meet My Nephew by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

[enragedbisexual]

how wonderful life is while you’re in the world

carolmaria; angsty bc of some misunderstandings n shit but it ends on a good note i promise <3

also on ao3

The pain, Maria remembered, had once felt as heavy as the boxes they had carried into their first apartment, as sharp as her ex girlfriend’s wit. She remembered it being so overwhelming, so suffocating. That’s what it would have been like for me out there, Maria often thinks, now. Suffocating.

“Out there,” was Maria’s two syllable euphemism for a one syllable word that terrified her: space. Space—the infinite, alien world where Carol had been, while Maria was at home, lost and bitter and angry. And achingly alone.

She didn’t feel any resentment or anger of any kind when it came to Carol; she never could. And besides, in this case, she certainly didn’t have a reason to. Whatever Maria had been feeling all those years, whatever seemingly impossible struggles she went through, she knew Carol couldn’t have been doing much better. Part of Maria was grateful she didn’t know where Carol was that whole time, or what she had been doing, because if she had, god knows how much worse life would’ve been. It wouldn’t have only been her pain, it would’ve been Carol’s too. If she had known Carol was out there, somewhere, not with her? That they were both alone? It would’ve been unbearable.

When Carol came back, though, Maria went through everything all over again. Except this time, it was—notably—worse.

It didn’t start out that way, of course. For a few, fleeting seconds, in fact, it was the complete opposite. It was euphoria.

When Maria saw Carol again, after six years—six years of hoping and wishing and giving up and inevitably starting all over again—an inexplicable sensation had whirled through her entire being. The feeling was something that, to this day, Maria struggles to truly characterize or express. The only thing that even comes close to the way she felt on that day, is the way she felt on another, very different day, in the summer of 1984.

That summer was vibrant, it was electrifying; it was karaoke nights that rescued them from distant, trepidatious days. And it had been on a particularly loud, dizzy night, after a particularly long and weary day, that Carol had kissed Maria for the first time. It was that feeling, multiplied by a thousand. A million, even. That was what went rushing through her veins when Carol came back.

“Aunty Carol? Mom! It’s Aunty Carol!”

Monica’s words felt cruel, at first, like the universe didn’t think Maria had suffered enough. But then Maria turned around, and she looked at Carol with her own eyes. Carol held her gaze, and suddenly Maria was the one who wasn’t really there. She was in the bathroom of a bar and she was nineteen and it was the end of July, and she had her eyes closed and her back against the door and Carol’s hand on her waist. That was the feeling.

Just as soon as it had been given, the feeling was taken away. It disappeared bluntly, eerily reminiscent of the way Carol had disappeared six years ago.

“I’m not really who you think I am.”

“Cruel,” at that point, was an understatement. A pitiful attempt to explain the sense of loss Maria felt, grasping at words that weren’t there, because of course they couldn’t be there, because god why would anyone create a word for a feeling no one should ever have to feel?

Maria asked herself that over and over. She was riddled with guilt, and she hated herself, and the world, and she couldn’t make sense of anything. To feel something other than bliss or gratitude when your person comes back from the dead—it felt like she was committing an act of treason against every god there’s ever been.

But Maria couldn’t help her devastation. Carol was back, yes. She was on Earth and she was alive, but she didn’t remember anything. The only person Maria had ever been in love with didn’t even know who she was, let alone reciprocate the sentiment. Maria was technically truthful from the start; she did tell Carol that they were best friends, after all. She never lied, she just ... omitted some major details. What else was she supposed to do?

Hey I know you just got back to Earth and you’re pretty shaken up considering the whole you-don’t-remember-ninety-percent-of-your-life thing and also you can shoot blasts of energy from your hands now, but we were actually supposed to get married, so, is that still on the table?

Please! Maria could never bring herself to say something like that, not even after Fury and the Skrulls, when life was back to some semblance of normalcy. This would take time. It was still too much to come to terms with.

-----

Today, though, a little over a year after Carol saved the Skrulls, Maria was doing just that. She was past “coming to terms” and on her way to healing, actually. She knew Carol had been finding pieces of herself everyday (small pieces, but they fit just the same), and Maria couldn’t have been happier for her.

Be that as it may, she wasn’t holding out hope for a miracle, anymore. One day, she and Carol had been looking at old photos, which they did all the time. It seemed to bring Carol real comfort, and Maria wanted her to feel safe. Glancing at a photo of the two of them in uniform, making silly faces at the camera, something in Carol’s eyes had flickered—a spark Maria had desperately hoped meant I remember, I’m yours.

It didn’t. But instead of letting her spirit crumble, (like the Jenga towers they and Monica were always building too high), Maria forced herself to stop feeling so hopeless. It sounds insane, even as she thinks back now, but she managed to heal her deepest wounds in a short few days.

All it took, truly, was a serious shift in her perspective. She had been feeling so cheated, like the universe didn’t care about her at all. She felt like she had been cosmically cursed, and she would get so angry. Plenty of days, she wouldn’t sleep at all, plagued by nightmares made up of her own memories. Maria was so focused on everything she didn’t—or couldn’t—ever have again, that she was so wildly unaware of the gifts she had been given.

At the end of the day, Maria decided, she was just happy, and lucky, to know Carol. She was lucky to have Carol in her life again. Any and everything she might have beyond that was a blessing.

And she did have a lot, in fact. They didn’t kiss, or make love, or fall asleep together every night. But they were incredibly close, Monica included; they were a family, if an unconventional one. Maria can’t count the number of times she’s fallen asleep with Monica’s head in her lap and Carol’s on her shoulder, or the nights Carol has come into her room shaken by a nightmare, and Maria has held her close and stroked her hair and whispered reassurances until her friend fell back asleep.

When you fall in love with someone, and they never hurt you—things end on good terms, or maybe you never even got together in the first place—when you fall in love like that, it’s so hard to fall out. In the back of your mind, they’ll always be there, hanging around and showing up in your daydreams when you least expect it.

You might move on, you might “get over” them, in theory, but in practice? If they showed up and asked to be yours, would you say yes?

See, after some serious, and, yes—tearful—ruminating, Maria knew the answer. She knew it would never change. But she also decided she didn’t need everything. She didn’t need for them to be in love, whatever that even meant, and she didn’t want to waste her time on this Earth full of sad feelings. She wanted happy feelings, and she had them.

Forgive me for being a living cliche, Maria had pleaded jokingly, and to no one in particular, but this is more than enough.

As for Carol, she had been getting little pieces of her memory back: a fuzzy vignette of a family road trip she took as a kid, blurry frames of the day she first learned how to ride a bike ...

... A vision of two hands shaking as they interlaced their fingers, a flash of skin on skin and a fire in her stomach whenever she lay next to Maria for too long, a jolt of energy as her lips pressed someone else’s to the offbeat of loud karaoke in a dark bathroom stall.

Okay, she hadn’t told anyone—she hadn’t told Maria—about those last three pieces.

First of all, Carol couldn’t even be sure of what was happening in her own mind. She obviously didn’t trust herself, or her memories, because she knew they had been toyed with before. And although it was, admittedly, a bit of a stretch to think that would be happening to her again, it felt more like leaps and bounds to think that she and Maria had been .... something.

So, she presumed, the former it must be, then.

Carol shoved all her soft-edged pieces—a label designated for those memories which focused on the two of them—down and away from the big picture. They didn’t fit.

Well, she wasn’t sure if they did. She hasn’t asked Maria about it. She was far, far too terrified.

-----

Maria had been getting the strangest sense from Carol over the past few weeks. She wanted to ask her what was going on, but she didn’t want to make Carol feel bad or uncomfortable. Maria knew it wasn’t right, or reasonable, to think of Carol as being so fragile. She was one of the strongest beings in the entire universe; she could handle a question. Or two.

Monica was at school, and Carol and Maria were sitting on the couch—close enough to touch but decidedly, not—watching reruns of Charlie’s Angels. An especially irritating commercial interrupted their viewing, leading Carol to quickly press MUTE on the remote.

For a second, Maria was grateful. After all, they had seen this guy drone on about Chevy’s plethora of meaningless awards at least ten times over the past 24 hours alone, and it was annoying. Except, now, the room was unnervingly quiet, save for a faint, steady buzz coming from their refrigerator in the other room. Under different circumstances, Maria wouldn’t be bothered at all by this sort of silence. She and Carol were perfectly capable of coping with lapses in conversation; in fact, they enjoyed it. At this exact moment in time, however, the lack of chit-chat was making both of them unusually anxious.

They knew they needed to talk about the way things had been recently. Maria noticed Carol had been keeping more and more to herself, holding her breath whenever Maria got too close. For weeks, Maria had been dying to bring it up, always on the verge of unlocking whatever kept her from saying the things she was thinking, yet always swallowing the key in favor of swallowing her pride.

Now, it’s been unlocked. And there’s no going back, Maria concluded.

“Carol, is everything okay?” Maria asked. She tried to be nonchalant about it, but you could tell it was anything other than a casual question.

Carol didn’t turn to face her, like Maria had expected. She kept her eyes on the television, the bright whites and blues of a new commercial flashing across her face in the dim light.

“Yeah? Everything’s okay.” Carol made eye contact, now. “Why? Are you okay?”

The first yeah wasn’t a lack of conviction on Carol’s part. On the contrary, actually. She seemed confident, like she only made her voice go up in that inquisitive manner in order to ensure that her puzzlement with Maria's inquiry was properly expressed.

“I’m okay,” Maria said slowly, without breaking eye contact. A split second passed, and it was long enough for Maria to change her mind.

Quickly, Maria admitted, “I’m sort of confused, to tell you the truth. Did I do something wrong? I feel like, lately, you’ve been acting like, I’m a ticking time bomb or something. I don’t know, I’m sorry, I’m probably just being-“

“No, no it’s okay,” Carol interrupted. She was looking at Maria, but Maria was looking away, as if she could literally see the words she didn’t get to say hanging in the air.

“Hey,” Carol said, her voice more insistent this time. “Look at me, it’s okay.” Maria looked, her face a picture of relief and confusion. Carol was smiling softly at her.

When Maria didn’t ask anything else, Carol knew she had to be the one to clear the air, even if she had approximately zero idea what to say.

Carol plopped her hands down onto her jeans, over the top of her thigh, and audibly took in a breath. Her eyes, like her hands, were on the tattered blue denim she was wearing. She moved her hands up and down her thighs nervously until she stopped at the place she had began, shrugged her shoulders up awkwardly, and then exhaled as she closed her eyes and let the muscles of her upper body fall back into a relaxed position. Her head was still pointed towards their carpeted living room floor.

Maria, chewing her lip in an attempt to tame the beast that was her anticipation, watched as Carol opened her eyes and turned to face her.

As soon as their eyes were locked, Carol started, “I’ve kind of been keeping something from you.” She felt the guilt and the worry start to bubble up in her stomach. “I’m really sorry.”

Maria didn’t seem shaken. Carol didn’t know what to make of that.

Maria just sort of nodded, ever so slightly, and Carol realized this might be more of a monologue situation than she had originally anticipated.

Nevertheless, she continued, “You know how I’ve been remembering stuff, here and there, and how we always talk about the stuff I remember? Well, I ... well. There’s just some memories, or something, that I’m not so sure about? I mean, I’m sure I’m having them, like, I’m definitely seeing everything, I just don’t know if they’re mine.”

Maria looked horrified. “You think someone got inside—is, inside—your head again?”

“I don’t know,” Carol said. She felt so awful, making Maria worry like this. She had to come out with it.

“No, I don’t think so,” Carol confessed defeatedly, heaving a sigh. “I’m just making excuses, I guess. I’m scared, Maria. Promise you’ll tell me the truth?”

“The truth about what? I would never lie to you. You know that. And you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” Maria grazed the top of Carol’s hand with the tips of her fingers as she asked that last question, and Carol’s hand sprang up from the couch, startling them both.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I don’t know—I don’t know why I did that,” Carol explained hurriedly, trailing off at the end of her sentence. Maria just stared.

“Look, I-I’ve been having these memories. Of us? Not how we are now but like, us, Maria. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

If the silence had been a grey cloud before, it was a full blown thunderstorm now.

The look on Maria’s face was the same look she wore the day Carol arrived in their little suburbia. Carol didn’t know if that was a good thing. She wanted it to be. She really, really wanted it to be.

Practically whispering, Maria leaned closer and said, “I ... can you—can you tell me more?”

Carol swallowed against the lump in her throat.

“Yeah, yeah, yes,” she assured. “Okay. Um, there’s a few. Sometimes, I see two hands trying to hold onto each other. They’re both reaching, and shaking, and then they intertwine their fingers ... I wasn’t sure what to think of that one. I thought to myself, well that could be anyone. But, that’s not true.” Carol delivered those details without facing Maria directly. Her eyes were staring off into space, like she was here, with Maria, but she was also somewhere else.

“I know what my own hand looks like,” Carol explained, “I know what yours looks like. I don’t know. I’m just afraid, I guess. I don’t know what to believe.” She looked a bit ashamed. “No, I’m-I’m afraid to believe. I’m afraid.”

Maria lifted her hand off the sofa and reached up to press it against Carol’s left cheek, staying there for a moment, and then gently moving Carol’s face towards her own.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Carol. I promise. Just take a breath, yeah?” Carol nodded, and visibly took the advice. “What else have you been seeing?”

Carol began, “I see flashes of something, um.” She felt herself blushing, and she knew Maria would notice. It only made her skin hotter.

“Yeah?” Maria encouraged her to continue.

“You know how you said you’ve been feeling like, well, that I've been making you feel like, a ‘ticking time bomb?’ I think-“

“I’m sorry,” Maria cut her off. “I’m sorry I said that, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty-“

Carol didn’t let her finish. “No, no it’s okay. That’s not what—no. It’s okay.” She beamed at Maria, hoping to hammer home the statement, which was one hundred percent genuine.

Then, she continued, “It’s just, I’ve been seeing us in bed. Together.” She sighed, and looked at Maria.

“We’re not—in the memories we’re not—we aren’t ... sleeping.”

By now, the tension was mounting, although it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. It just felt like a precursor to something inevitable, something important. Maria did have a bit of a knowing smile on her face, but she also looked hesitant, like she desperately wanted to do something and at the very same time was petrified by what that something might be.

Well, love conquers fear, as they say.

While their gazes were both locked onto each other, Maria leaned in and kissed Carol, quite quickly, on the mouth.

It seemed as though the act was over in less than an instant, and yet every instant they had left on this Earth had now been forever changed. The trajectory of their lives was finally back on track.

Apparently, Carol didn’t exactly appreciate the moment being so brief. She kissed Maria again, and unlike her friend, she didn’t show much restraint. Her hands were in Maria’s hair in less time than it had taken her to mute that commercial, and Maria had her knuckle in the loop of Carol’s blue jeans.

Between kisses, Carol mumbled something along the lines of, “Hey, this is just like that night at the karaoke bar.”

Maria pulled back instantly, her eyes wide.

“You remember that?” Maria asked, her voice full of wonder and awe.

Carol grinned. “Yeah, babe. It’s been the only show on the Carol Danvers channel,” she said, tapping her index finger against her temple, “for, like, the past month.”

Immediately, the room was filled with the sound of Maria’s laughter, then Carol’s too, and, eventually, another silence.

This silence wasn’t intimidating. It wasn’t a storm, no. It was the clouds slowly dissipating, the way they do right before the sun comes back out to say hello.

Both of their eyes were sparkling, their faces glowing and their hair lightly tousled. They looked like they could’ve been in a commercial themselves: “couple waking up and drinking coffee together in their pajamas,” or something.

It was Maria who spoke first.

“So,” she began “we’re ... us, again?”

Carol let the question bounce around in her mind for a few moments.

“I can’t believe we ever stopped being us, Maria. Let’s not let it happen again, okay? You’re my person. Always.”

Carol laced their fingers together. Another memory come true.

“If I remember correctly, we have one more memory to relive, don’t we?” Maria teased.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, Carol replied, “Rambeau, always with your mind in the gutter.”

Maria rolled her eyes.

“Okay okay!” Carol said, “I’m just kidding. Come here, my love.”

Maria was smiling so wide her cheeks hurt, and at any other moment with anyone else in the world, she would’ve been thinking about something incredibly ridiculous, like whether or not her smile made her look unattractive. Right now, here, with the girl she's loved since she was nineteen? She couldn’t have cared less.

[big-girl-toaster]

Emily Sonnett - player analysis

A compilation of Sonnett‘s strengths, weaknesses (cause everyone has them) and general observations from Portland and USWNT games (mostly from 2018 and 2019) ft. my irrelevant opinion.

Enjoy!

Before I’ll start a few notes:

I’m obviously not a professional soccer analyst person or whatever, so please don’t come for my ass. These are just patterns or reoccurring things in Sonnett’s game I observed while rewatching tons of PTFC and USWNT games. 

I will focus on a few key points, that doesn’t mean that she has deficiencies in other aspects, sometimes it’s just hard to show them and I tried to avoid stating arguments without giving visual evidence. (All the links and credits are below the gifs)

I would love it if you gave additions, feedback or criticism to this post but all in all I just hope that you enjoy reading a bit about Sonnett’s more professional side and soccer tactics in general.

Please let me know if the format is weird, I’m still figuring out how to make big posts.

I sincerely apologize for the low quality of gifs, as I said, I’m figuring things out and I wasn’t able to upload proper clips.

And lastly, Sonnett is a precious little bean and I enjoyed making this more than I should have. Also, did I use this as an excuse to spend days on end rewatching old games? Yes I did.

I will start with three main strengths I think she brings to the pitch:

Communication / Leading the back line                                               (this is in regards to her position with the Thorns, I will talk about the differences between PTFC/USWNT later on)

As a center back you naturally have a more responsible role in terms of shifting players that are in front of you and communicating things to them they can’t necessarily see. Sonnett embraces that role completely and at 25 years old she is at the level of world class CBs in that regard. A lot of players take on that role much later in their career. Her college coach Steve Swanson for the University of Virginia said about her:

"There is a standard of focus and intensity that Emily demands of the players that play around her. She’s not afraid to hold her teammates accountable in that regard. That was one of the unique aspects of our team dynamic this year, is that Emily's style of leadership is different than the team was used to. I think the team has recognized that the qualities Emily has, we need.“

http://www.espn.com/espnw/news-commentary/article/14100802/virginia-emily-sonnett

This clip I wanted to show you is from a situation that is very common for a defensive line but overlooked bc we as viewers naturally tend to look at the movement of the ball. It’s the intentional shifting of the back line in the exact right moment to let an opposing attacker run into offside. In the original video you can hear Sonnett shout “DROP THE LINE“ and Menges and Kling follow her movement which results in Alex being successfully caught offside at the side line. 

((Tumblr won’t let me upload video clips, so here’s a crappy gif (look at Sonny and Menges), click the link to get to youtube, it’s at 21:30))

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JGM6Nju0b4

A simple moment but a very crucial part of back line coordination.

      2.    Box positioning

A.k.a. one of the most important parts of good defending. Sonnett covers runs from attackers almost always with textbook precision. She anticipates passes and is able intercept balls which makes her a proactive rather than a reactive player. When she does have to go for a tackle she brings a feistiness that she probably learnt from a certain Kelley O’Hara I can imagine. She usually opts for slide tackles and that decision could be debatable if you’re the coach but it’s just so good to look at tbh

(credit to @geekmythologys for the last gif)

But anyway, her box positioning. Having watched a lot of games with my eyes glued to number 16, I can of course safely say that Sonnett knows what she’s doing. But I’ve been thinking more and more that she often has a sort of intuitive approach when it comes to box positioning in particular. For this next clip I’m gonna need your opinion. Normally I wouldn’t tell Sonnett to abandon her player in that moment, especially bc it creates a 3v2 situation on the attackers left side and also considering the angle in which Dunn is facing the goal. However, she steps in and is able to block the ball.

to see it properly: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ev3SFCmbqQ  at 15:40

What do you think?

Oh and this is just excellent clearance work. AD was certainly hyped about it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvcOuadyFu4

    3.   Offensive effort

Sonnett is one of the highest scoring CBs of the league but her offensive efforts aren’t measurable in just goals. For corner kicks she likes to do the near-post run Julie Ertz style and has been successful in the past, most notably the 2-0 in the semifinal 2017 against Orlando (which resulted in this gem of a gif):

She likes to stay up top for a bit when her position is covered by someone else and tbh I’m living for these moments.

Here she encourages quick playing and would have gotten through with it if the nwsl had good refs. She didn’t even touch her. (get it? haha) 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOIDLJ4ZL1A

Here she drives the ball after winning it, even if her teammates are pushing up late and then she stays up front to participate in the counter attack. Unfortunately nothing evolves out of this situation.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ev3SFCmbqQ

Right. Those were the strengths, in terms of weaknesses, I don’t wanna pick apart the smallest things but this is what I found:

Misjudged midfield positioning

We’ve talked about her excellent positioning in the box, however, a huge part of modern soccer is having the Center Backs pushed up to the half-line (as well as inverted outside backs but that’s another point). And what I’ve noticed is that sometimes during turnovers Sonnett goes in to put pressure on the player and with that an even wider space opens up behind her that the opposing team could exploit. Like in this picture.

Blue is the ball movement, red (Sonnett) goes in when in my opinion green (Lindsey) should have been the one putting pressure on the ball bc now Daly can run into that open space. 

Luckily Sonnett’s speed prevents Houston from getting anything out of it but Daly tried it several times during the game.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOIDLJ4ZL1A

My second example is that iconic tactical foul against ARod that we all remember.

Her positioning isn’t optimal, Klings pass isn’t the best, ARod gets her off of the wrong foot, she can’t turn around fast enough and has to stop her with a professional foul which is (I’ll say it again) demanded by coaches in situations like that. But anyway, tumblr has talked enough about this game rip

      2. Determining the biggest threat

This is a minor one, because Sonnett is usually really good at reading the game and making the right decisions. However in this game against Australia, she tries to cover the space behind Dahl which is technically reasonable but considering how wide open the Australian is, she should have closed her in earlier. That little hop inside the center of the field made the difference and the opposing player was able to score. 

I think it’s safe to say that stuff like this comes with age and experience. And again, Sonnett is only 25!

(The whole game against Australia is awesome for spotting strengths and weaknesses, plus we get tons of Sonny close-ups thus I can recommend rewatching it) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mBNvE3owllY

Two more things I wanted to include are two risks that could be relevant in the future.

From time to time she doesn’t control her arm movement in the box.

This is obviously the natural thing you do when you make a move like that but with the new rules by Fifa, defenders are more and more limited and this would have been a penalty if it had hit her arm. Idk it could bite her in the ass at some point.

      2. Intuitive positioning 

We’ve talked about this and people might have different opinions on it. I personally think though that this might make the difference between a great and a world class defender. So I say go for it Sonny.

Phew, I’m almost done guys, congrats for getting this far, I hope it’s interesting at all.

The last thing I wanna mention is this: The difference between Portland Sonnett and National Team Sonnett, a.k.a. CB Sonnett and RB Sonnett.

Even though as a right back your role is more offensive, I feel like Sonnett has to be pushed to go for it. She rarely does those runs in behind the winger and towards the end line. When she does it it’s great but compared to Kelley she simply isn’t there yet. It also seems to me like for Portland she takes more liberties in pushing forward which maybe is a confidence thing as well. She is a given for the Thorns but had to fight to regain that roster spot for the NT in 2017 after not being called up for several months. Maybe the fear of making mistakes bc of being out of position hinders her a bit? (I’m saying this while being aware that I of course don’t know what the coaches want her to do and what the different game plans require of her.) Anyway, I love her 1v1 defending as RB. I think she is underrated and absolutely deserves a spot on the Olympic roster next year. 

One last low quality gif because we gotta stay on brand.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mBNvE3owllY

Well that’s it, I hope you enjoyed it. Again, I’d be grateful for additions, opinions, feedback, whatever. 

Thanks for reading :)

[trash-the-tozier]

Lipstick (1/5)

Title: Lipstick

Length ~29.1k (4.4k for this part)

Summary: Richie and Eddie's eyes meet across the street. And sure, it might have been romantic, if Eddie didn't happen to be in a skirt with a wig and full face of makeup at the time, and Richie hadn't jogged over to ask him to "please, could you pretend to be my girlfriend so my parents don't think I'm gay?" Eddie knows that getting involved with a straight boy is a dumb thing to do, but on the other hand Richie is very, very cute, and he doesn't really have anything else going on today. So he agrees.

Warnings: explicit language, kissing, boys wearing makeup and skirts and dresses (is that even a warning?), slight homophobia, one big ol sexual identity crisis

Pairings: Richie/Eddie and background Bill/Stan

A/N: the fake dating/crossdressing/college au fic that nobody asked for. yes, eddie does wear makeup in this fic (so do stan, richie, and the rest of them by the end) but he's not hyperfeminized or anything like that. inspired by unhhhh (the trixie and katya show) a rediscovery of troye sivan's music, and this piece of fanart  also posted to my ao3 here tagging @belbys​ (our residential reddie queen) bc she’s the sweetest and asked me to (thank you love!)

“But I do have a girlfriend!”

There were very few things in the world that could make Eddie Kaspbrak stop listening to his music, especially when Marina and the Diamonds was playing, but that loud shout did the trick. Feeling startled, Eddie pulled his earbuds from his ears and looked across the street towards the source of the noise. He was met with the sight of a tall guy, young and gangly and around Eddie’s own age, walking backwards down the sidewalk as he faced an older couple. Despite the indignance in his voice he had a spring in his step, and the similarities between himself and the couple in front of him--most notably, the woman’s dark curly hair and the man’s thick glasses--had Eddie guessing that they were the guy’s parents.

“Richie, why don’t you just get back together with Beverly?” The woman asked, and the guy Eddie figured had to be Richie rolled his eyes at her.

“I was never dating Beverly, Mom!” Eddie’s family assumption seemed to be correct, and he found himself losing interest, turning his eyes back to his phone, reaching for his earbuds to replace them in his ears. “I never was dating her; that would be like dating my sister! Super weird. Bill dated her for a while, though.”

Eddie’s ears pricked. Bill? Beverly? It seemed like an unbelievable coincidence, but Eddie was friends with a Bill, a Bill that had an ex-girlfriend named Beverly Marsh. Eddie glanced back over, looking more scrutinizingly at the stranger to see if he recognized him. It seemed way too “small world” to be true, but if they went to the same college campus, maybe they’d met before.

The woman, however, didn’t look very convinced.

“But she used to visit us with you all the time! What happened?”

“She’s taking more classes this semester, and she’s super involved with the university’s Disability Alliance now. Lots of volunteer work and stuff. She just doesn’t have time.”

“Okay, so you say you have a girlfriend.” The guy’s father stuffed his hands in his pockets, his mustache furrowed, speaking slowly. “And she goes to this school? She’s on campus?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s meet her.”

“Dad, no!” Richie’s eyes took on a frantic sort of look, glancing anywhere but his father’s face, and Eddie realized in amusement that this Richie was lying about being in a relationship. “We just started dating, that would be so weird, I--”

In Richie’s frantic turning this way and that, his eyes met Eddie’s across the street. Richie seemed to freeze completely, his voice dying, just staring back at him. Eddie knew then that he’d never met Richie in his life, because he was blushing just from looking at him. Richie was incredibly cute, with thin features and high cheekbones, the kind of tall that made Eddie’s knees go embarrassingly weak. And while he was busy staring, cute guy said something to his parents that Eddie completely didn’t hear, and the next moment, to Eddie's great surprise, jogged across the street in his direction.

Eddie stopped in his tracks, and Richie came to a halt right in front of him.

“Um… Hi.” Eddie said after a few moments, because this guy was still just looking at him with an expression Eddie couldn’t quite place. Despite the November chill in the air, it was starting to make Eddie’s body feel a little too warm.

“Hey.” Something about the guy’s voice sounded breathless, and Eddie wasn't quite sure what to do with that, either.

“What, um…” Eddie managed to pull himself together. “What do you want?”

The question sounded stupid as he said it, but Eddie was glad he did because it seemed to snap the Richie guy from whatever trance had been possessing him, and he started to speak.

“Oh, right. Okay. So… Hi, I'm Richie.” He gave an awkward wave. “And those people over there are my parents.”

Eddie nodded. He knew all of that already.

“And… And I told them I have a girlfriend, which is a complete fucking lie.”

Eddie nodded again. Richie paused, seemingly embarrassed, his next words coming out in a bit of a rush.

“But I really need them to believe me because they saw a picture on my phone of me kissing a guy dressed as Spiderman on Halloween and it was just a dare, it was nothing, but if they think I’m gay--”

“So what if you’re kissing Spiderman?” Eddie asked, frowning. “It’s 2018. You can kiss whoever you want.”

“I know that. It’s just, my parents…” Richie glanced back at the adults in question, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, Eddie watching until he noticed he was staring and quickly looking away. “I don’t think they’d be okay with it.”

“Oh.” Eddie said softly. He knew what it was like to have parents that weren't accepting of sexuality and self expression. Still though, he wasn't sure why Richie was telling him all of this.

“Yeah.” Richie said, seeming to realize the faults of his explanation at the same moment and powering on. “And this is super fucking weird, and I understand if you don't want to help me, but I was wondering… Could you go over there and talk to them? Could you pretend to be my girlfriend?”

Girlfriend. The term surprised Eddie for a moment, then his eyes caught on the flats he was wearing and he remembered. Oh, right. I'm dressed up.

Since Eddie could remember, he'd been interested in makeup. The first time he’d seen makeup on his mother, he’d wanted to know how she’d managed to make her lips look so red like that, and if he could do that to his lips too. So naturally, he’d snooped around. When she’d found his red, clumsily overdrawn mouth she’d reprimanded him harshly, and he learned then that makeup was only for girls. Of course, that hadn’t deterred him. It just taught him to always wash the lipstick off before she got home from work.

Eddie had a cousin that was sixteen when he was twelve, and she’d let him use her eyeshadow palette, teaching him what each of the little brushes did and giving him some makeup of his own. He didn’t want to become a girl, or anything like that; he just found it all fun and colorful. He wore some makeup to class a couple of times in high school, but despite how fierce his friends were, bullies always had something to say about it.

College was different, and it delighted him. Eddie could do what he wanted and wear what he wanted, and when Bill had gifted him a wig as a joke, Eddie had been surprised to find that it suited him. He decided to just try putting on a full face, putting on a skirt, and seeing what happened. But nobody had batted an eye, and since then, just for the fun of it--on the few occasions that he felt like putting the work in, that is--he would dress himself up. It truly was an awfully convenient alternative for the days when he really didn’t feel like putting on pants.

Today had been one of those days, and Eddie had on leggings, a skirt, a long sleeve shirt, and a brown wig that went past his shoulders. The scarf around his neck was doing an excellent job at hiding how flat his chest was, and he’d gone for some pretty simple makeup, with a small addition of warm purple to match his outfit.

“Please?” Richie asked again, bringing Eddie back to the predicament at hand. Agreeing was a dumb thing to do, and he knew that, but on the other hand Richie was very cute, and he didn’t really have anything else going on today. Besides, he figured; if the straight guy and his conservative parents got too weird, he could always rip his wig off and run away. Imagining that scenario was so funny that Eddie thought he might just do that anyway.

“Sure.” He agreed. “I’ll do it.”

Richie couldn’t believe it. He’d just asked a girl--an incredibly, unbelievably cute girl--to be his girlfriend, and she’d said yes.

Granted, he’d asked her to only pretend to be his girlfriend to keep up a lie for his parents, but she’d said yes all the same, and that was more dating action than he’d managed to get in a good couple of months. Richie wondered briefly if perhaps he should feel down about that, but in the moment he was too happily surprised to care.

Then the girl smiled at him, and Richie nearly felt his knees buckle.

“Do you need me to pick your jaw off the ground for you, or are we going to meet your parents?” She asked. Struggling to collect himself, Richie nodded dumbly and turned, and they started across the street.

“You know, it’s really good that you said yes, because I kinda already told them that I was dating you.” Richie told her. He felt she needed to know. “When I saw you, before I came over here. I said ‘hey, that’s my girlfriend actually’, and ran over.”

The girl raised her eyebrows.

“Seriously? What would you have done if I didn’t agree?”

Richie didn’t have time to answer because they were in front of his parents now, Maggie and Wentworth Tozier smiling at them expectantly.

“Introduction?” His mother prompted. Richie gestured towards his parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Tozier.” He said to her, watching the girl’s lips move as she mouthed the last name.

“And her name, Richie?” His father asked.

“Oh!” Richie discovered in that moment that her name was something he’d never asked for. He had no idea what it was. The girl exchanged a look with him.

“E--” She began.

“Emma!”

Richie realized a second later that he really should have just let her speak, that she was saying her own name and that he himself was an idiot, but it was too late for all that. He turned to her with wide eyes, begging her to go along with it.

“Emma Kaspbrak.” She said, and Richie slowly let out the breath he’d been holding. She shook hands with his parents, and Richie hoped desperately that there wouldn’t be any other questions, since he was so ill prepared.

“So Emma, how did you two meet?” His mom asked, almost instantly.

“Mutual friend.” Emma responded without hesitation. “Bill Denbrough, he’s a friend of mine.”

Richie was sure his eyes were close to bugging out of his head. Bill Denbrough? Bill was his friend, and while Bill did have other friends, friends from high school that Richie hadn’t met, it almost seemed like too much of a coincidence. He examined her a bit closer, wondering if he actually had seen her before, quickly deciding that no, he hadn't. He would remember a face like this.

Her hair was chocolate brown, a warm color that matched her eyes. She had a cute, pointed nose, the bridge of it littered with freckles, the same as her cheeks were. Her cheeks looked incredibly soft and god, her lips did too, pink and shimmery with lipgloss.

“...coffee?”

Richie only managed to catch the tail end of his father’s question, realizing that the rest of the group was looking expectantly at him.

“Yeah, coffee.” He said vaguely, with no idea what he was agreeing to, and his mother smiled.

“Excellent! Let’s all go get coffee.”

His parents set off first, Richie falling into step behind them with Emma. Feeling nervous and awkward, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, only to have Emma jab his arm with her elbow.

“Come on, hold my hand.” She said, holding her palm out. That was a good idea, so Richie did, surprised to find her hand was warm. Weren’t girls supposed to have cold hands, especially in the winter? But her hand was soft against his, and he felt his cheeks heating up.

“Nice going back there.” She said to him, just quiet enough so that his parents wouldn’t hear her, amusement in her voice. “That was really smooth of you.”

“Sorry!” Richie was relieved that she’d found the staring funny, instead of creepy. He murmured the next words, more in embarrassment and more to himself. “You’re cute, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Emma’s voice was equally quiet. They walked in silence for a minute or so, before Richie couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So, uh…” The coffee shop was less than a block away, but he had a couple of things he really wanted to know. “What’s your real name?”

“Um…” She seemed to struggle internally for a moment. “I’ll tell you later, actually, alright? So you don’t slip up and say the wrong thing.”

“Okay.” That was smart. Geez, this girl was fast on her feet. “Do you really know Bill Denbrough? How did you know I was friends with him?”

“Yeah, I know him.” She said. “But mostly, I just heard what you were saying, and the Bill I know has an ex named Beverly, so I just took a guess that they were the same guy. Good thing it worked.”

“You could hear me? From all the way over there?”

“You talk really loud.”

Richie grinned sheepishly. “It is one of my many talents.”

She gave him a small grin, and a second later they arrived.

Once inside the coffee shop, Richie’s parents did most of the talking. They bombarded his poor pseudo-girlfriend with questions, but it was nothing out of the ordinary--age, major, hometown, things like that. She answered all of them readily, looking slightly intimidated, but only as intimidated as a new girlfriend would look when meeting a boyfriend’s parents for the first time. Richie chimed in with a distraction or a joke when he felt she looked a bit too nervous, and she was always able to snark something back at him, her sharp tongue making his heart pound.

“You almost failed your English class?” She asked, when Richie had volunteered the information for discussion. “Do you not know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’?”

“Of course I do!” Richie exclaimed back. “The class was just boring. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Really, really stupid.” She said, but a playful grin kept the words from being too scathing, and Richie smiled back.

“You wound me.”

She just hummed in response, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek in apology. As soon as her lips touched his cheek, Richie was sure his heart exploded. Before he could collect the pieces back together to become a moving, functional human being however, she got to her feet.

“I’ve got to get going.” She said apologetically, and Richie realized that the better part of an hour had passed. “It was really nice to meet everybody, though.”

“You too.” Mr. Tozier said with a smile, and Richie jumped to his feet.

“I’ll walk you.” He offered, and after a moment’s consideration, she nodded her consent. Waving quickly to his parents, Richie followed her out the door. He didn’t want her to go just yet; he wanted to ask her out for real, and for that he wanted her real name.

It took a couple quiet minutes of walking for him to gather up the courage to say anything at all, and when he spoke, he felt he’d done it a little too loudly.

“Can I learn your name now?”

“Sure.” She responded, frowning. “But… Could it wait until I get back to my apartment? There’s something I want to tell you first.”

“Uh… Okay.” Richie frowned too; she looked nervous again. “Why? Are you okay? Were my parents too much?”

“Oh, no.” She waved a hand. “They were really nice, actually. Better than I expected, if I'm being honest.”

“Yeah, they’re alright. It’s just that one gay thing that they’re a little weird about.” He shrugged. “And even that’s not so bad. My mom just really, really wants to be a grandma, and since I’m an only child, that message is pretty clear. And my dad will make jokes, but only every once and a while.”

Emma didn’t respond, something Richie hadn’t yet considered coming to mind.

“Are… Are you gay?” He asked

“Yeah.” She answered simply. Richie tried to keep from looking too crestfallen, not sure that he succeeded.

“Is it like… Only girls, are you more--”

“Could you shut up until we get home?” She asked, the words sudden, and Richie’s step faltered. He nodded a little, doing as he was told, his eyes on his feet. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t much farther, and Emma tried the doorknob to find it already unlocked.

“My roommate is home.” She said in warning, then pushed the door open. Richie expected another girl, instead met with the sight of a young man with an extremely unamused expression, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with his arms crossed. Richie’s mouth went dry.

“Is this your boyfriend?” He asked in a rush. He’d been in a situation like this before, but he was able to say his next words with much more sincerity than he had the last time. “We didn’t do anything, I swear--”

“No! Not my boyfriend.” She cut him off, actually looking amused as she took off her scarf, tossing it onto the couch next to what looked like a rumpled t-shirt. “Just my roommate, like I said. Richie, this is Stan. Stan, Richie.”

Richie waved in greeting, Stan only looking at him for a moment more before turning his attention to Emma. He was nearly as tall as Richie himself, his brown hair curly.

“And why is he here?”

“Because he doesn’t know.”

“Oh.” Stan stood a little straighter, cracking his knuckles. All this cryptic shit was really becoming worrying.

“What don’t I know?” Richie asked. “What did you want to tell me?”

She looked at him for a moment, then reached up, gripped the hair on the top of her head, and pulled. Her hair all came off in one fluid tug, and Richie couldn’t help a small, surprised sound coming from his mouth.

Okay, so not all of her hair had come off. Under the wig was a short, boyish cut, only slightly darker brown than the wig had been. She was looking at him expectantly, her eyebrows raised.

“So, you have short hair.” Richie said. “So what? You still look cute.”

She did. The cut really fit her face actually, showing off her nose and her cheekbones better, cheekbones that were currently tinted pink by the compliment. But she was still looking at him like there was something he was missing, and he gasped.

“Oh my god, did you have cancer or something?”

“Wow.” Stan deadpanned. “He really is an idiot.”

“Could you just tell me?” Richie begged. “What is it?”

“Okay. It’s…” She reached for the hem of her shirt this time, pulling it up and over her head. Richie reached up to cover his eyes, wanting to respect her privacy--though, he thought, she was getting undressed right in front of him--his hands halfway to his face when he realized the action was unnecessary. There was no bra, no boobs, no nothing, just a lean-muscled, distinctly male chest. He gaped, watching as she--was it still she?--reached for the shirt on the couch and tugged it on. “I just met with your parents for nearly an hour, and you don’t know that my name’s Edward.”

Richie felt himself sinking slowly onto the couch, feeling stunned. His dream girl wasn’t a girl at all. He sat there, staring at nothing, his mind spinning, nearly jumping from his skin when Edward spoke.

“Um… Are you going to say something?”

Richie opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Stan snorted in laughter behind them.

“Okay then.” Edward shrugged a little. “I’m going to go wash my face off.”

He walked away. Richie felt he couldn’t even move. Was he wrong, to have assumed he was a girl? He’d specifically said girlfriend, though. He remembered that. And he hadn’t been corrected. And she’d simply sat there, smiling and laughing and talking to his parents.

There was the sound of a door opening, and Richie looked up. Edward was reentering, his face now clean of makeup and very distinctly boyish. He’d also discarded his shoes and tights, though he’d kept on the skirt and the t-shirt, the shirt so large on him that less than a foot of the knee-length skirt was visible under it. He looked nervous as he approached, and Richie was more surprised than anything to find that he still couldn’t shake the fact that this person was cute. Easily cuter than anyone else he’d ever met. Cuter, maybe, than the rest of the human population.

“Edw--” He started, but was cut off quickly.

“Just call me Eddie. That’s what everyone calls me.” Eddie said quickly. He sat down on the other side of the couch. Richie watched him. “And I am a boy, male pronouns and all that. I just put makeup on sometimes. For fun.”

Richie simply nodded.

“So, uh…” He didn’t know why this was his first question, but he couldn’t help it. “When you said you were gay, you meant…”

“Guys, yeah.” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Are you disgusted now, that I kissed you on the cheek?”

“No!” Richie said instantly. He wasn't. In fact, the same fluttery type of feeling he’d had when it happened came back to him instead, but he pushed it down. That was not his first order of concern. “It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

“It is?” Richie watched as Eddie exhaled slowly. “Oh. Okay. Cool.”

“You, uh…” Richie desperately wanted to say something to break the settling silence. “You’re really good at the whole makeup thing.”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth quirked upwards.

“Because I tricked you?”

“Not what I meant.” Richie said, and Eddie laughed. “I meant the purple, or whatever, on your eyelids. And was it just me, or did your cheeks kinda glitter when you moved your head?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s called a highlight.” Eddie smiled at him, and something stirred in Richie’s stomach. “Do… Do you want my number? We seem to have some mutual friends; maybe we could hang out or something.”

“Sure!” The word sounded stupidly enthusiastic to Richie’s ears, but he couldn’t help himself, pulling his phone from his pocket. Once numbers were exchanged Eddie got to his feet, Richie quickly doing the same.

“You probably need to get back to your parents.” Eddie said. “Seeing as they're on campus to visit you, and all that.”

“Oh, right. Them.” Richie had genuinely forgotten. “Yeah. See you around?”

“Sure.” Eddie said, and Richie slipped out the door.

As soon as the apartment door closed, Eddie fell face first onto the couch, letting out a loud groan. He was screwed.

Part of him, he knew, had wanted Richie to be upset. To be shocked by the surprise, to tell him off for trickery; to be angry with him. That would make it easy to nip this growing crush in the bud. Instead, Richie had been fine. Said it was okay. Even complimented him, for god’s sake.

“What was all that about?” Stan’s voice, sounding soft and confused and slightly sympathetic. He had Eddie’s makeup bag in one hand, and Eddie pulled himself into a sitting position. “That Richie guy?”

“He asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend, so his parents wouldn’t think he was gay.” Eddie explained with a sigh. Stan raised his eyebrows.

“Is he?” He asked. Eddie sighed.

“No. It was some misunderstanding over with a picture or something.” He waved a hand. “I agreed because he said his parents were homophobic, and I thought I could give them a piece of my mind maybe, but… They were really nice. And so was he. Shit.”

“Eddie…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Eddie said, getting up and taking the makeup. “I know.”

“You need to be careful.”

“I am careful.” Most of the time, Eddie did everything he could not to even interact with straight boys, especially the attractive ones. And most of the time, it was easy. They were all gigantic idiots. Not that Richie wasn’t an idiot, but still.

“Having a crush on a straight person sucks.” Stan said, sitting down on the couch. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Trust me, I know.” Eddie had learned that lesson the hard way, a crush on a track teammate his junior year of high school going sour, the boy outing him as a part of the rejection. Bullying had been free of charge with the heartbreak. “This had to have been a one time thing, Stan. Don’t worry about it.”

He sat down on the coffee table across from Stan to give him a slightly higher vantage point in relation to Stan’s face. He opened up his makeup, taking out some foundation.

“So, you have a date tonight?” He asked, applying some foundation to Stan’s forehead. Stan closed his eyes obediently, but his nostrils flared.

“It’s not a date. We aren’t dating.”

“Stan, he’s taking you to see a movie, then probably ice cream or something afterwards, and then you’ll sit in his car with him and hold hands and look into each other’s eyes for like three hours. It’s a date.”  

“Bill doesn’t call them dates.”

“Because you asked him not to.”

Stan stayed stubbornly silent, and Eddie sighed.

“You’re worrying about me, but at least my boyfriend--” He cut himself off quickly. Fake boyfriend. Fake, one-time boyfriend. Though, following that logic, Bill technically wasn't Stan's boyfriend either, but that didn't help Eddie's case so he didn't mention it. “At least mine knows that I’m a guy. You have to tell Bill that it’s you, Stan. The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to feel when he finds out.”

“I know.” Stan’s voice went quiet, and Eddie felt a bit bad for even bringing it up. “I’ll tell him.”

The unspoken ‘eventually’ hung in the air between them but Eddie ignored it, trying to focus his thoughts elsewhere. They landed on Richie, and he nearly cursed out loud. He wasn’t going to think about Richie either. He couldn’t. He was confident that he wouldn’t have to play girlfriend for him again, so there was no point in dwelling on it. Eddie had exchanged his number with multiple people in the past, people he promised to hang out with that had never gotten around to contacting him; people he’d never seen again. It was understandable, he figured, with how big the campus was and how busy college students always were. He just hoped against hope that Richie would turn out the same way.

[hahanoiwont]

superhero au!

Superhero au.

Virgil is a supervillain a la that post about grad school villains. He started out doing it for extra credit but he also needed the cash for student loans...that shit aint cheap yo

so he’s a small-scale “”””supervillain””” mostly making a nuisance of himself by stopping traffic, doing minor vandalism in costume, and sometimes kidnapping notables for like an hour before realizing he can’t keep a plant alive and should not be in charge of a person (’you’ve captured me!! what are you going to do???’ ‘eh i mean you’ll probably get rescued soon, my powers aren’t really meant for long-term kidnapping and I don’t wanna have to take care of you. you think i want another mouth to feed? nah. hey wanna see a meme?’).

(if Sleep exists in this au he’s a common kidnapping victim. son of the mayor or smth. Virgil has learned to hold up a starbucks before kidnapping him tho. not worth it if he can’t bribe him with sweet sweet caffeine. they p much chill for a couple hours until the hostage negotiators come)

basically, Virgil’s not a big enough deal to get shut down permanently. regular cops usually take care of him well enough without superhero involvement. he gets his extra credit for villainry and sometimes some cash from a shadowy organization via crow or some shit. he’s not sure how they know where he lives or what exactly they’re paying him for but hey, more ramen money. whatever gets food on the table.

On the other hand, Patton is a hard-working police officer who really should be in any other job. He’s just too nice for it. But he gets a lot of the suicide calls or emotional trauma stuff because he’s just so damn good at making people feel safe, and no one else wants to do those calls, so he stays on the force. He used to be an EMT, too, which is really helpful. He rooms with Virgil and Logan and Virgil’s weird cousin.

He pretends to be unaware of Virgil’s extracurriculars because he can see that Virgil needs the money and is too proud to ask for help. He does help him patch himself up when necessary and sometimes thinks about going back to his own ‘night job.’

(he used to be a superhero but quit that and EMTing after he realized how much it was draining him physically and emotionally and how deeply unhealthy the whole thing was. credit to Logan for that) He thinks he’d feel better knowing Virgil’s already spoken for as an archnemesis by a hero who won’t seriously try to hurt him. He seriously worries that Virgil will catch the attention of an edgy ‘shoot first and angst about it but make no attempts to fix the mess you’ve made later’ heroes, and he’ll end up in the hospital or worse.

but also, Patton needs that work/life balance and he just can’t maintain it while hero-ing. and Virgil knows what he’s doing, right? he’s a cautious guy. So Patton just tries to be on call when he notices Virgil’s got the first aid kit out or when he talks about ‘evening plans’ (fuck’s sake dude we all know you don’t go out for fun).

For his part, Logan wanted to be a biochemical engineer, but right now he’s taking some time off school. His powers are probably some sort of sensory (?) and he doesn’t fully understand them himself, mostly bc he likes to pretend they don’t exist. but he was getting splitting headaches at school and he just couldn’t go on. He does online courses when he can but he feels really ashamed that he couldn’t do grad school/college, which he was supposed to be good at. He was planning on staying with Patton and Virgil until the end of the lease and he doesn’t know what he’ll do after that.

But then one day Virgil came home freaking the fuck out about something and asked to talk to him, and guess what, he’s got this crazy ‘supervillain for extra credit’ idea. Someone’s got to make sure this fool doesn’t get himself killed. And Patton’s got into police work, and Logan doesn’t want him to go through compassion exhaustion again, and really none of his dumb housemates can take care of themselves (he loves them tho). So he does mad science in the broom closet to try to give Virgil something of an edge over any hero whose attention he might catch and helps him hide his villain-ing from Patton and tries to figure out what he’s gonna do with his life on the side.

He comes up with this crazy graph that shows the optimal balance of super heroes to villains in a healthy society (not enough villains=not enough active heroes when something really bad goes down, as it does every few years, somehow; not enough heroes=obviously bad). He keeps an eye on superpowered activity in the city.

Sometimes he thinks about getting active himself, both to preserve order and balance (if you’re the villain [ie Virgil] you can control the collateral damage to your plots, but if you’re the hero and your roommate is the villain you can both work together to provide for both of your needs [extra credit, enough good hero/villain balance, and safety of roommate] without actually harming anyone...but for either he would need to be able to use his powers effectively and he’s still kind of in denial), and to keep Virgil from getting his fool ass killed, and to keep an eye on Patton while Patton insists on running right into every single superpowered crime scene. In the meantime, he frets over numbers and helps Virgil write coded emails to his grad board about his ‘’’extensive’’’ villainry.

It’s basically like a resume except you have to convince the people involved that you’re super evil.

Logan is good at resumes.

All three of them are plugging right along and Virgil’s actually getting his student loans paid on time with enough money for food and rent besides (one day he even takes them out to eat and they Do Not Talk about how he got the money to do that), and they all think maybe he can do the villain thing for a few more years and then get out of the game forever, when Virgil’s weird cousin gets caught doing some shady-ass stuff.

Turns out he’s in way over his head with some sketchy folks, owes a lot of people money, and used Virgil’s name for half of it. Virgil is in sudden desperate need of more money than he can get through legal means and, of course, Refuses to tell anyone about/ask for help with his predicament. It is strongly recommended to him by his academic adviser that he step up his supervillain game or show up at the bottom of a river south of Manhattan.

Virgil freaks the fuck out and proceeds to dig himself into an even deeper hole, suddenly going for much larger schemes, robbing banks, being less obsessively careful about collateral damage with each plot because he just doesn’t have time to and he’s too desperate.

Cue Roman.

Roman was literally just going to the bank, innocent of all wrongdoing and Not Picking a Fight because he swears this new move is gonna work out, he’s not gonna get arrested to aggravated assault or unauthorized use of an unregistered superhuman ability (it was self-defense! and defense of others! he was rescuing people!).

He happens to be at the bank when Virgil is robbing it. And, well, Virgil isn’t gonna hurt anyone, but Roman doesn’t know that. He ties his shirt over his face to hide his identity and superheros it up, saves the day; Virgil runs away pretty significantly battered but not permanently injured or caught. And now there’s a new superhero in town and Virgil suddenly has an archnemesis. Just what he was avoiding. Great.

Meanwhile, Roman is shocked to learn that he’s being applauded for saving people for once (as opposed to like. arrested) and graciously accepts his new title. Hey, being a superhero could work! He said he was gonna try something new in this town and he will! He’s gonna save the day!

The two of them happily counter each other day after day: Virgil’s getting enough publicity as a villain that his grad board is happy even without him doing any genuine harm, he’s staying one step ahead of the shady figures that come looking for him by name, Patton has made contact once or twice with the new hero and used his office reputation to become Roman’s primary police contact, Logan thinks Virgil is bonkers for all the new levels of villainy he’s doing but he has to admit this is the most alive he’s ever seen him; Roman is enjoying the fame and adoration of being a hero and he’s been cast in a musical and life is looking up for everyone.

But Roman also works in a coffee shop to pay the bills (three jobs. so tired.) and there’s this stressed-looking student who keeps coming in with bruises and sprains and one time he broke his arm in what Roman is absolutely certain wasn’t an accident, and he talks on the phone with people sometimes that really seem to distress him, and he seems like a genuinely nice guy, right? A little guarded, sure, but he’s polite and he tips well and what kind of hero would Roman be if he didn’t at least try to make friends with this troubled but charming young man?

So Roman introduces himself to Virgil in their civilian identities and the two of them are friendly! free coffee here, book recommendation there, on slow days Roman will sit with Virgil and they’ll just chill for a while. Each of them quietly considers the other his friend, but Roman is Concerned about how Virgil is so fucking jumpy, keeps getting these calls that he claims are from his academic adviser but honestly what kind of adviser would be so terrible to talk to, he has all these bruises that show up continuously and his excuses are all plausible, realistic, and backed by evidence provided by Virgil himself, but something just doesn’t seem right.

So when Virgil mentions that his cousin suddenly moved out in the middle of the lease and he needs to find a new roommate and can he post a flyer in the coffee shop? Roman jumps at the opportunity. He’s been renting one room by the month in a shitty part of town and this is a hell of an upgrade, and also, maybe that nagging in the back of his head when Virgil shows up battered will go away. (maybe if he’s there no one will hurt Virgil. what monster would bring deliberate harm onto such a genuinely nice, snarky guy, wonders the superhero who brawls him on the regular)

He’ll have to keep his superhero-ing on the DL from his new roommates (though he’s thinking about telling Virgil, because Virgil seems like he can keep a secret and Roman really wants to have someone to talk to about this), but unlike Virgil, Roman knows how to use strategic stage makeup to hide bruises and minor imperfections. Also, his villain must be kind of weak, because he never seems to do too much damage? Sometimes Roman thinks he doesn’t really want to be a villain, he’s just kind of sad and lonely, like Megamind. Thoughts for another time.

So now, in one apartment, we have:

Patton, former EMT; former superhero of respectable fame; currently a cop assigned to Roman’s superhero persona and also any calls involving emotional competence; knows Virgil is a supervillain but pretends not to; responds immediately to all calls involving superpowers in case it’s his deeply misguided roommate and he needs help;

Logan, one accident away from becoming a super-something if only he could figure out what; provider of Virgil’s biochemical defenses for when superpowers alone are not enough; helping to cover both logistics and material needs for supervillainy (also created Virgil’s outfit because you can’t do crime in a hoodie you heathen, no one will take you seriously, Virgil had to talk him down from including a necktie); searching for his place in life; not entirely certain why Virgil is stepping up his illegal activities but not happy about it; currently househusband to all of his roommates;

Virgil, extremely stressed grad student; villain for fun and profit and mostly because he needs the money to not get murdered; a bit of an adrenaline junkie; really staring to get into this villain thing but he sometimes wishes he didn’t have to be the bad guy; definitely feeling hunted by shadowy entities and organizations and trying desperately not to bring anyone down with him;

and Roman, the hero. who is beginning to think he and his villain might have been friends, in another life.

It is both a sitcom and a shitshow of epic proportions while everyone tries to hide each other’s secrets without letting ppl know what they know, Roman comes clean to Virgil and Virgil freaks the fuck out about it, Patton frets about everyone and everything until he’s stressing himself sick, Logan makes chemical explosions in the broom closet and the whole block is evacuated every other Tuesday and they all have to pretend not to know about it, Roman wants to get a dog and also for Virgil to get out of whatever abusive relationship he’s Clearly In, Virgil wants a nap, Patton wants a nap, they all want a nap.

What I’m saying is: Superhero au.

@stella-scriptor another one for you, buddy

[janiedean]

I'm the anon who said you don't glorify obesity. Look I don't know anything about that ship y'all keep referring to and I don't know who "Hunk" is or whatever, I'm talking in general terms. I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT SHIPPING OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT just to clarify. I think it's wrong that people glorify being skinny but I don't think glorifying obesity is any better (I'm talking about more than overweight - ACTUALLY OBESE)

I’m probably not explaining myself properly but I think people should be able to ship whatever they want, the shipping was never my point. I just think the way people on the internet have been going on like “Fat women are goddesses!!! Real women have curves!!! If you don’t agree you’re fatphobic!!!” is wrong. I have been hospitalized twice for anorexia, I know how being skinny is glorified but I don’t think switching it around so it becomes “being obese is totally awesome and if you say otherwise you’re a horrible fatphobe” is any better. I’m sorry for sending you so many messages, I’ll stop now.

okay so GIVEN THAT WE ALREADY CLARIFIED OURSELVES ON THE MISUNDERSTANDING: the problem is that we were actually talking about shipping XD and the other anon decided it had to be about health but like the problem in general is that as usual (on tumblr and I guess in the US because it’s mostly US beauty standards I’m seeing thrown around) is that there’s no middle way in anything. I mean, like:

body shaming is a thing. in general. the problem is that fatshaming is, like, a thing that is more culturally spread than the contrary even if in some countries (ie italy) there’s this concept that if you’re skinnier than a size 42 (I guess it’s like an S or small M) you’re omg so unhealthy please EAT SOME PUT MEAT ON YOUR BONES WHY DO U HATE GOOD FOOD, but it’s more of an older generation thing. like, I’ve had problems with weight bc when I was in freaking elementary school people would go like ‘omg you’re so fat’ at me and I thought I was and then I looked at some pictures years later and I was like ‘… wtf I was perfectly fine what the hell’ and there’s a general implication that fat/overweight = unhealthy when it’s not necessarily the case.

the problem is that when it comes to body positivity there is like literally zero distinction between curvy, overweight, fat and obese which are not the same thing, and there is zero distinction between body positivity and promote a healthy lifestyle. I mean, according to US standards someone who’s fat would be… like… normal here? a size M is seen as perfectly regular stuff but from what I see of US sizes, M is like OMG I’M FAT already, which… like. here it’s maybe curvy. also being some 3/4kgs overweight never killed anyone. but since I see ZERO DISTINCTION here, it’s all thrown in the same bag and it’s the exact same for people who have 3 kgs more than average, 10, 25, 50 or freaking 200. which is obviously not the same.

also, there is the complete lack of realizing what it means to be healthy and to not be thin. like, as has been said already it’s absolutely not a guarantee that being thin or skinny means that you’re healthy (I had a friend who used to be chubby, then got sick with a freaking chronic disease and came out of it with a body that ended up finding her a job as a fashion model but SHE STILL WAS HEALTHIER BEFORE THE FREAKING CHRONIC DISEASE), I’ve struggled with my extra kgs all my damned life and whenever I go on vacation with friends that are thinner than me but move around less or don’t go to the gym and the likes I am the one who can walk for longer or gets tired less and I have better blood tests than my father who’s at his ideal weight and takes five pills for a bunch of different stuff. some people are just heavier as a body type but if it’s their body and it’s not due to shitty eating or lack of exercise or whatever then they’re not unhealthy. obviously severely obese people who can’t walk for more than twenty minutes without feeling like fainting aren’t in that category but like never mind that for a moment, the problem is that your size doesn’t automatically mean unhealthy and having 20 extra kgs on you makes you fat maybe but not freaking obese.

THEN, on body positivity: there is a healthy difference between NOT BEING A JERK and spreading awareness re healthy habits. like, society/media and the likes shouldn’t promote being thin, they should promote being healthy ie eating well and exercising, not THIN = HEALTHY. as stated you can be healthy without being thin. (or, as the character we were talking about that you weren’t referencing, you can be mostly muscle and have some chub over it and THAT’S NOT BEING OBESE XD at the same time, if someone is overweight or obese or whatever for any reason whatsoever you can’t go at them and tell them omg go lose some weight you loser THAT’S HORRIBLE. I mean, there’s a difference between saying that one should try to be as healthy as possible and go like OMG YOU’RE FAT YOU’RE HORRIBLE. if body positivity means not shaming someone else for their body then go the fuck for it. the problem is that then according to people saying ‘okay but if you can’t walk to the supermarket and back without feeling short of breath and you might get heart diseases maybe you should consider dropping some extra weight for your own benefit’ is fatphobic which… lolno. not everyone is fat because of bad habits and they shouldn’t have people making them feel bad even if they are but assuming that the above sentence (especially when doctors recommend you to do more exercise) is inherently fatphobic imo is ridiculous. if my doctor tells me I should lose some weight then I’m gonna consider it and I’m not gonna feel like he’s *phobic*, if someone goes like ‘omg you’re so fat you’ll never find a guy who wants you’, that is fatphobic. like, THERE’S A DIFFERENCE. (at the same time people who are skinny/thinner than average shouldn’t get told all the time OMG PUT SOME MEAT ON THAT SKELETON REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES like fuck’s sake respect all body types. being a real woman has zero to do with how much meat you have on you.) what should be glorified is be healthy and be happy with whatever body type you have as long as it doesn’t cause you problems and at that point nicely try to make those problems right while you’re encouraged without shaming anyone in the process. (which also means: gdi don’t put other people down if they’re trying to gain weight or lose it, ffs.)

now, the problem with shipping: the thing is - and I swear to god I don’t wanna sound like a sjw now but I hope the previous essay has made clear how I feel in general on this issue - that, in my experience, fat/overweight characters especially if they’re male are seen as… either the laughing stock of the group or the harmless nerd or anyway never as sexual objects. every damned time I ship something where a guy is overweight/fat (notable exceptions jacob and queenie from fantastic beasts which tbh really was a nice surprise for the part where the fat guy who’s also a sweetheart hooks up with the bombshell and it’s THE BEST ROMANCE OF ALL good go you man) right as rain there’s rarely fic for it least of all porn, and even if there is someone will go around saying the fat character isn’t attractive or deserving of getting some. when I say ‘sam tarly syndrome’ I mean ‘fat/overweight guy is a sweetheart who has a lot of nice ships they could be in but they get thoroughly ignored or if it happens in canon fandom lols at it’. I mean, I basically had to start the jon/sam tag on my own (if you see the fics at the beginning it’s honestly sad to see TEN of mine all after the other), once on a kinkmeme I was like ‘okay doing it’ at a pwp prompt and I got as an answer OMG I WAS HOPING YOU’D SEE THIS NO ONE ELSE IN THIS FANDOM WRITES PORN FOR THESE TWO and whenever people discuss canon sex scenes…. the only one in the book that always gets lol-ed at is sam and gilly’s in spite of the fact that okay, it’s badly written, but ALL of the sex scenes in asoiaf except one are badly written. it’s not worse than the average. but sam getting some because a relatively hot girl wants him and the sex - omg! - actually being somewhat not vanilla is seen as… like… OMG HAHAHAHAHA I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S GETTING SOME OMG HOW EMBARRASSING as if this guy being overweight means he can’t be seen as a palatable partner when it comes to having a sex life. same as the other anon being like ‘omg hunk (the person we were referring) is fat and unhealthy so he’s not good enough for the other person’ is… exactly the same. I mean, this hunk character is admittedly the one person in that bunch I’d actually date irl same as sam is the one character from asoiaf I’d date irl the others are completely out of the question, but since they’re *fat* naaaaah? and guess what sam/WHOEVER is a lot less popular than ships which make a lot less sense but are two hot characters stashed together bc they’re hot. (jaime/sansa has like 300+ fics and jon/sam is still under 100 but okay sure tell me it’s because it makes no sense. lol no. and being that the only porn around for those two was written by me and maybe two/three other people says all.)

at that point then people go like ‘well but it’s because they’re unhealthy’ and that is when it becomes ridiculous. because going with the above problem re fatshaming being a thing that happens on a societal level, it becomes IF YOU’RE FAT YOU’RE NOT SEXUALLY DESIRABLE AND NO ONE SHOULD WANT YOU BECAUSE OF YOUR UNHEALTHY WEIGHT, which mixes stuff that doesn’t even go together with being sexually desirable which is something inherently personal. as in: if someone who’s unhealthily fat for whichever reason has a significant other who loves them and their body guess what THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO HAVE A SEXUAL LIFE AND TO BANG PEOPLE/GET BANGED TO THEIR PLEASURE. because when it comes to preferences in the bedroom or loving a person, size can be a thing - some people have certain body shapes preferences and so on - or it cannot be a thing at all and anyway it doesn’t matter when it comes to your right to be seen as desirable/being desirable. people of all sizes can be desirable or sexy or definitely sexually available regardless of the size - like everyone is freaking allowed to be sexually desirable even if they don’t conform to whichever is the beauty canon around.

and given that I personally got told more than once also by admittedly well-meaning people that they wouldn’t ever consider seeing me as desirable because I was overweight or not as thin as other hot person around our class or even better, the aforementioned friend who turned out to be a fashion model using that as some coping mechanism (as in, she didn’t like being sick obv. but since she had come out of it with a scorching hot physique while I had then undiagnosed pcos so I was struggling with weight all the damned time and I was healthy otherwise... er let’s say that she used to tell me stuff like ‘ah well look at you and look at me instead how much better looking I am’ which obviously was in order to make herself feel better about her illness but sure as hell didn’t help me feeling good about myself), I’m honestly fucking tired of this whole trend in shipping where overweight/fat people don’t get any from their hot best friends with whom they’re absolutely shippable but the hot friends get shipped instead with the most improbable hot people that happens in 90% of fandoms I run into. because it’s just a reflection of how irl if you’re overweight a lot of the time people will say that your weight puts you out of the goddamned dating field and everyone deserves to be in there, damn it, regardless of their size. it has nothing to do with being healthy or unhealthy. and saying shit like ‘omg X is fat they’re not good enough for Y’ is really fucking old already. 

 tldr: I hope I made clear why I got pissed at the other anon and what I think of the whole matter. obviously no one has to glorify being *unhealthy* (extreme obesity and anorexia are both unhealthy) and no one needs to put other groups down while doing it (looking at you n*icki m*inaj - like sorry but according to my standards she’s thin, having a nice ass doesn’t make you *fat* or curvy, and going like FUCK ALL THOSE SKINNY BITCHES is the exact contrary of body positivity tbh). but at the same time everyone deserves to be seen as sexually desirable and it’s bullshit that the current narrative depicts being overweight as something undesirable. both in society and in fandom.

/peace

[auburnfamilynews]

The Tigers were ripped apart by McKenzie Milton. (AP Photo/John Bazemore)

     War Eagle everybody. It’s time now for the Acid Reign Report on Auburn’s disappointing 34-27 loss to Central Florida in the Peach Bowl. Not since 2007 has Auburn lost to a team not currently in a Power Five conference, when Auburn dropped a 26-23 decision to South Florida in a late game at Jordan Hare Stadium. At that time, however, USF was a member of the Big East Conference, that was part of the BCS equation. We have to go WAY farther back, to get an Auburn loss to a truly second-tier team. In 1991, Auburn dropped a 10-9 decision to Southern Mississippi. I suppose one could try to salve yesterday’s pain by saluting UCF as the only unbeaten team in the bowl subdivision. For this Auburn Tiger, it was a sad day where the Auburn football program dropped the ball in numerous ways.

     My first complaint about this game was the footing for this Auburn team. I’ve seen nothing from the print or television media about it, but Auburn players over and over were slipping and falling on the indoor turf in this game. We’ve seen bad indoor turf before in Auburn bowl games, most notably in the 2011 BCS title game in Arizona. If bad turf was the issue, why weren’t the Golden Knights slipping and falling, too? I can only believe that it was the shoes. You’ll not likely hear any Auburn folks bad-mouth any equipment suppliers, thanks to today’s ubiquitous sports-apparel contracts.

     I cannot believe the performance by this Auburn defense. In November, this Auburn defense held next week’s participants in the national title game to a combined 31 points. Here in January of 2018, UCF bested that total in just one game. Most baffling was the decision to not try to go after UCF quarterback McKenzie Milton. We heard chatter from the coaches prior to the game that Auburn’s objective was to keep Milton from beating Auburn by running around, but Auburn failed to do that, either, as Milton was the leading rusher in the game, with 116 yards. I’d like to take this time to remind all coaches that the best way to stop any quarterback is to get him on the ground. Auburn’s failure to pressure the quarterback resulted in an injury-riddled secondary getting picked apart in the second half.

     The Auburn offense had success at times, but at other times was a sputtering, turnover plagued mess. The offensive line was just plain bad, in the first half. Lead blocking took the holiday off, too, as guys slid down trying to make blocks, and UCF defenders flew past them and took receivers and backs down behind the line of scrimmage. Auburn tried all week to promote the idea that running back Kerryon Johnson was 100 percent healthy, for this game. Did he look healthy and effective to any of you readers? I fail to see why the deception is necessary, from this coaching staff.

     Auburn special teams have had serious problems this season, but largely outplayed their counterparts in this game, and kept Auburn in the game till the waning seconds. There were some punting issues, and tackling issues on returns, but the special teams units came through when desperation plays were needed. Without massive pressure and push on the field goal defense teams, this would have been a double digit loss to UCF.

Unit Grades after the jump!

Defensive Line: B-. Handcuffed by a particularly bad defensive game plan, this unit managed just 1 sack, no quarterback hurries, and a half a tackle for a loss. The plan was to contain UCF quarterback McKenzie Milton, but that did not happen, either. Auburn largely did contain other UCF runners, but still gave up 34 points. Auburn linemen contributed 25 tackles, but 24 of them were beyond the line of scrimmage.

Linebackers: C. I can only guess here that the plan was to ignore UCF quarterback McKenzie Milton, and watch him run by. Auburn linebackers were able to mostly limit UCF running backs to short gains, but any sort of attempt to spy Milton failed badly. The linebackers contributed 20 tackles in this game.

Secondary: C-. I was tempted to give an F, but it is unfair to ask an injury-depleted group to cover for 10 seconds or more while the quarterback runs around unmolested. Auburn defensive backs did break up some passes, and were there on coverage, although they did allow some contested catches. Overall, the secondary made 27 tackles. When you consider that UCF only complete 16 balls, that’s way too many that the front seven of the defense let through.

Punting: B+. I would have liked a little more distance at times from punter Aiden Marshall, but he did a decent job of playing keep-away from dangerous return man Mike Hughes, who finished the game with just 1 punt return yard.

Punt Returns: C-. Auburn got a few fair catches, a fumble and run backwards for 10 yards return, here. At least the Tigers did not turn the ball over in this department.

Kick Returns: B-. For the first time all season, Auburn faced a kicker that did not reach the end zone, and got 6 kick return opportunities. Blocking was pretty poor, and Auburn got flagged repeatedly for holding and blocks in the back. Return man Noah Igbinoghene made a lot out of nothing, and got Auburn back in the game with a 72 yard effort to start the second half. He would have scored on that return, except for more missed blocks down the field.

Place Kicking: B. Daniel Carlson did miss on a 53 yard field goal attempt, but I did not count off for that. What was disappointing was that Carlson only managed 2 touchbacks on 6 kickoffs, and the coverage team subsequently gave up 90 yards on 4 returns. Footing was an issue here, particularly in the first half. The kicker’s plant foot is not supposed to slide and rip up turf, indoors!

Offensive Line: D-. I’m not going to belabor this grade much. Auburn was regularly manhandled, whipped and just out-hustled here, for most of the game.

Running Backs: C-. Auburn has made hay this year by making the first tackler miss. Not this game. No Auburn back averaged more than 4 yards per carry in this one. H-back blocking was particularly poor. Again, footing was a big issue, as guys could not plant and cut. I did like seeing Chandler Cox used in the passing game, as he had a couple of receptions.

Receivers: C. I really didn’t see much from this group, in terms of blocking. There weren’t any glaring drops this week, but we did not see much after the catch, nor any spectacular catches in traffic. Routes did not look sharp, either. Several miscommunications happened, too. I did like some of the route concepts in this one, and Auburn did have Will Hastings running around wide open numerous times. Too bad Stidham didn’t have more time to find these guys. The opportunity was there for a record passing day.

Quarterback: C-. Yes, there was bad offensive line play, but Jarrett Stidham didn’t do much to compensate. When UCF blitzed, Stidham was just looking to run, rather than find a hot route to dump it to. Then, he basically cost Auburn the game with turnovers, none worse than trying to force a late slant pass into backed-off zone coverage. Stidham connected on 28 of 43 passes, but a lot of them went for short yardage.

     A season concludes for Auburn with a couple of pretty bad showings, after a November to remember. The team now has 8 months to get ready for the 2018 season. This program must, MUST figure out how to play indoors, as the Tigers will open in Atlanta to start next season. Somebody, somebody needs to go shoe-shopping!

     There is little to do this January, but to go back to work and try to improve in the weight room and on the track. Auburn players will get to watch a couple of teams they beat by double digits, play for a national title. For Auburn to get there, execution and game planning must get a lot better.

The post Tigers Fall Flat in Atlanta. (Grading Auburn’s 34-27 loss to Central Florida.) appeared first on Track 'Em Tigers, Auburn's oldest and most read independent blog.

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