#probably don't have to do that here but to be safe

[sturionic]

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[jenroses]

Oregon will pay for transitions but does little to help with housing and other resources in a systemic way, so it can be a hard state to "refugee" to if you don't have a lot of connections. Portland is quite diverse relative to the rest of the state, Eugene wants to think it is but it isn't. COL is very high here. If you have health issues requiring specialists, most of the state is a medical desert for anything unusual, except Portland, which is extremely expensive to live in. The rural areas are Not Safe, and very conservative. I don't go back to the rural town I grew up in if I can help it. If you can find a job and a place to live, Eugene and Portland feel very safe for white trans people, as safe as anywhere, the school policies are good, there are a lot of very well meaning people here who will support POC but the police are Not Great and the POC I know who live in this area (Eugene) are not super enthused about the local vibes. Work continues. Being disabled in this area is quite isolating, but there are a lot of us. Accessibility of buildings is very high, most public places are okay, a few aren't. Accessibility of public transport is okay, not perfect but pretty good, but public transport itself is mediocre in general in Eugene and historically pretty great in Portland. Haven't tried the buses there in a while. The best news about Oregon is that Democrats control pretty much all the statewide things that need to be controlled, with a supermajority in the senate, probable control of the house, and with democratic governeror, treasurer and secretary of state. There's a thing about not having *quite* enough votes to ignore the republicans, which means the republicans can and do walk out to short a quorum so that it can be hard for the legislature to get shit done, but they manage anyway, mostly, to a point.

hello again (bill clinton limewire voice) my fellow americans

There are a few states that actually have Shield/Refuge laws designed to help trans people fleeing from trans-unsafe states, which also guarantee trans folks access to healthcare. These states are:

California

Colorado

Illinois

Oregon

Vermont

Washington

Minnesota

New Mexico

Maine

Massachusetts

Rhode Island

Connecticut

Washington D.C.

Additionally, some states have "trans sanctuary" executive orders signifying safety for trans folks seeking healthcare. These states are:

Maryland

New Jersey

New York

Living as a resident in these states means you are protected by state's rights and state government to continue or begin receiving trans healthcare. These laws have been codified in their states so everything has been a-ok'd by their state governments.

Stay alive. You got this. I love you.

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[janiehellion]

Falling Deep

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl Dixon was a quiet but curious young man—shy, inexperienced, and way more innocent than you’d expect. It was just you, him, and... a vibrator.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: VIRGIN!DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / LANGUAGE / ORAL FIXATION / CUNNILINGUS / SEX TOYS / DRUGS & ALCOHOL / NON-CON ELEMENTS

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.925

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: PRE-APOCALYPSE—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @dixongrimesgirl

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Thank you for your patience! I know it’s been a long wait, and I can only hope it was worth it. This might not be exactly what you had in mind when you sent in the request, but I hope you enjoy it.

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

The Chattahoochee was a whole different level of disgusting, even for a bar so close to the deep woods of Georgia. Low ceilings, broken lights, and the smell of piss and beer were present in every corner. Regulars stumbled in every night and day, a lot of them already drunk or high, but most of them?

Both.

It was the kind of place that was sticky no matter how much bleach you poured on it and where you could smell the bad life decisions coming from a mile away.

You worked behind the bar, pouring shots of moonshine and avoiding the greedy touches of men like it was just another part of the job. Which, in a place like this, it practically was. Located in the heart of the most godforsaken area of Georgia, it was the perfect place for the kind of people you’d rather not run into at any time.

Safe to say, Merle Dixon had been hitting on you since day one, coming at you with even worse pickup lines while high on who knows what. He'd lean over the counter, smirking, smelling like alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. "Hey, sugar tits, gimme 'nother," he’d laugh, putting a half-torn dollar on the bar like it was supposed to impress you.

"Watch the damn language, Dixon, or that’ll be your last drink for tonight," you’d answer, not even looking up as you poured him another shot.

"Hey, c'mon now," he’d answer you, "don't be like that. Ya know ya wanna gimme a shot at somethin’ else, don't ya?" He'd grin further, which seemed more lustful than charming, his eyes staring at your tits like they belonged there at all times.

You'd roll your eyes and shove the glass across the bar with a little more force than necessary. "In your damn dreams, Dixon. And keep your damn eyes up here, or I’m gonna rip ‘em outta your damn skull," you’d warn, but not entirely without sarcasm. It wasn’t the first time he behaved like that, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Then there was Daryl, his little brother, always standing or sitting nearby, almost like a shadow, or rather, like someone who didn't belong in a place like that. He wasn’t the type to come up and throw a pickup line at you; hell, he barely spoke at all. Just stood back while Merle tried to flirt with you, as if he was embarrassed to even be there.

You’d catch Daryl looking at you with these sideways glances, his arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for whatever bullshit his brother might do next. Or maybe he was scared, and he just had no clue what to do with a girl who would throw a bottle at someone's head and talk filthier than any man in the bar.

One night, Merle was high on meth that had his pupils blown wide, and he was drunk as always. "Y'know, darlin'," he slurred, leaning far over the bar, "I could make your night real fuckin' interestin’. Got a little somethin' else with me that’ll loosen ya up for some fun." He took out a tiny baggie—powder—white and unmistakable.

"Fuck off, Merle," you said with a smirk. "Go snort that shit somewhere else, where I don’t have to watch your annoying ass. Ain't your damn babysitter." You were used to it, but he was starting to piss you off more than usual. "And don’t even think about offering it to anyone else inside this hellhole. Last thing I need is you getting the whole damn bar high. Do that outside, with those who are probably shitting all over themselves right now."

Meanwhile, Daryl was sitting on a stool nearby, again, his eyes looking from you to his brother. You couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he looked, the way he watched Merle and every other person around. There was always something different about him—he was quieter, more... soft. The kind of guy who stood back and kept his head down.

"Leave 'er 'lone, Merle," Daryl mumbled, more to himself than to his brother. But he seemed to be sick of the whole scene. Not that Merle ever listened, or would ever listen to him.

No, Merle just rolled his eyes before shoving the baggie back into his pocket, not even looking in the direction of his brother, keeping his focus only on you... and your tits. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just tryin’ to show ya a good time for once." He grabbed his drink and stumbled off, probably to piss in a bush outside, and you were left with Daryl, who still just sat there.

Some time later, you grabbed a dirty rag and started wiping the bar down, side-eyeing him. "You gonna say somethin’, or just keep sittin' there?" You teased, soon throwing the rag under the counter and pouring him another drink.

He shrugged, looking away, clearly not sure what to do with himself. "Ain’t like I could stop him if he tried anythin’," he mumbled, looking down into his glass.

"If he tried, he'd go home without his dick. Not that it'd make much of a difference for him," you said back, smirking at him and trying to get him to loosen up a bit. "You come here just to watch me shut him down every night?"

It was a half-serious question, but you knew the answer. Daryl wasn’t like the other assholes—he didn’t hit on you, didn’t try to grab your ass or tits when you passed by, and never once called you some stupid nickname like sugar tits.

"I… jus' end up 'ere," he said awkwardly, his fingers tapping down on the counter. "Ain’t got much else to do."

"Well, at least you’re not tryin’ to snort coke off my tits or ass," you answered, making him go red in the face.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat, and you couldn’t help but find it kind of adorable.

"You know, since you come here enough, Dixon 2.0," you continued, "might as well help me close up sometime and throw the rest of these assholes outta here. Would get you a drink on the house."

It was just a passing suggestion, a simple idea, but his eyes looked up, like he was considering it, and for once, he actually looked into yours. Not in that drooling, perverted way his older brother did, but with curiosity. "Maybe," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dunno."

"You know what? Just think about it."

And so, the routine went on. Merle would walk in, and Daryl would sit nearby, quietly sipping his own drink while keeping an eye on his brother. And secretly, on you.

Tonight, though? Tonight was different. Somehow, you’d gotten him here, in your home, alone, without Merle, who was probably stinking of booze and piss all over again somewhere. His brother must have gotten his hands on something strong, or whatever it was, it gave you the perfect excuse.

You’d leaned in close while Daryl was mumbling about his brother and told him he should come over; maybe help you with something, and you told him it was important. You hadn’t even needed to lie all that much—he’d just nodded, eyes wide and nervous, and here he was, following you home like a little boy.

When he got to your place, he just stood there, all tense, and moving from one foot to the other like he didn’t know where to put himself. And you—well, you liked watching him squirm and being nervous, knowing well you were the one making him feel like that.

Daryl wasn’t even in the door for five seconds before you threw your bag on the floor, walking inside without saying anything else. No pretenses, no "make yourself at home." You didn’t bother with shit like that. If he was here, he was here on your terms, and you weren’t about to treat him like a guest.

"C’mon in," you said, standing next to the door to finally close it.

You saw him gulp, eyes looking around like he was searching for a quick exit he could use just in case, but finding nothing but trouble. So he nodded, stepping in, his shoulders hunched as he stood there, awkward as hell. Every inch of him screamed that he was nervous, but he didn’t run, not yet. You liked that about him. Quiet, sure, but still stubborn.

Meanwhile, your place was kind of a mess, clothes lying around, bottles on the tables—some empty, some half-full. A few were left over from last week, but hell, you weren’t cleaning for anybody, especially not for him. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, though; if anything, he looked like he was trying hard not to stare around too much, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, his face all red once more, while you kicked off those awful heels that made your feet ache.

"Go on and sit down in my room," you said over your shoulder as you turned around, smirking as you heard his quiet huff. "I'm gonna get outta these damn clothes and put on something more comfortable."

"'Kay," he muttered and nodded again, sounding like he’d swallowed his own tongue.

Once in the bathroom, you pulled off the way too tight top and short skirt in the bathroom, letting yourself breathe for once. That outfit was a real curse; your bra always felt as if it was pushing your tits all the way up to your chin, but it kept the tips flowing, so you kept wearing those clothes.

But tonight? You’d rather die than let Daryl see you in it for too long. Poor boy was already chewing the inside of his mouth and choking on his own words like he might say the wrong thing and die on the spot.

But what you didn't know was that the second you went away to change your clothes, Daryl’s hands started twitching, like his body was on alert between curiosity and unease. A few of your clothes were tossed across the bed, smelling like that bar you worked at—smoke, sweat, and alcohol. It all felt like a place he shouldn’t be at, but here he was, sitting down on your bed and touching your clothes to shove them aside.

He told himself he wasn’t snooping, just trying to figure you out as he sat there nervously. Hell, you were already a mystery to him—a tough girl working in a bar where skirts and shorts barely covered what they ought to and heels high enough to bring any man to his knees.

So here he was, and his mind started running wild, wondering if every woman’s place was like this—half-dirty, with clothes tossed around, magazines piled up, and so much more.

Then his eyes landed on a big box sitting half-shoved under your bed, an open corner poking out like it had been forgotten as his foot bumped against it. He should’ve left it alone, but there was that itch, like he couldn’t look away. Daryl crouched down, sitting down on the floor, his fingers fumbling with the top until it opened up. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he looked inside.

It was filled with... things. Smooth, soft, strange-looking things in different shapes and colors, each one making him more confused than the last.

"What's this stuff?" He whispered, eyes squinting as he picked up a small pink thing with a rounded end. It fit in his hand, smooth but with some weight to it. "This for her... work?" He mumbled, rolling it over in his hand like it might magically turn into something he recognized. Maybe it was a tool, or even one of those weird bar gadgets he didn’t know about.

Another catch of something sparkly and soft shoved down in there made his heart beat faster, and before he knew it, he was pulling out more—the things looking weirder by the second. There was a wand-looking thing, and he held it like it might explode, wondering what the hell you were doing with all this.

"Drugs? Gotta be for drugs," he muttered, frowning as he inspected the box. Could be some kind of injector, maybe? He knew about that stuff—the guys that Merle met sometimes, passing around different things for the good times. But nothing here made sense, and there wasn't any instruction manual in sight.

He looked around like you’d come back any second and catch him, heat burning inside of him as he thought about what this meant. Were you hiding something? Was it… Was it for some kind of secret thing you did when no one was around?

"Damn it, what’re ya up to?" He said, biting his lip, his hand brushing over the surface of the smooth, strange thing, feeling his pulse race at the thought that you did know exactly what these were for.

And yet he didn’t. Not a damn clue.

"Hell’s this?"

He felt a cord between his fingers, pulling it slightly, as if tugging on it might magically make it make sense. Maybe it was for listening to music? But it had no sound, and no little earbuds or anything that he could see.

Setting that one down, he picked up another—an oblong thing with ridges along one side. It looked almost like a flashlight, but there was nowhere for the light to shine from. He pressed his thumb over it, turning it this way and that, but nothing happened.

"What the hell?" It had to be for something specific. You wouldn’t just have random stuff lying around like this for no reason, would you?

Then he found another, rounder one, with a strange little button on the side. He pressed it, flinching a bit when it buzzed all of a sudden. The damn thing nearly jumped out of his hand, and he held it tight to stop the vibrations.

"Damn thing’s possessed," he nearly yelled, feeling his cheeks burn. It felt... weird. Too weird.

And you? You had barely slipped into the bathroom, taking off your work clothes and enjoying the idea of how Daryl would squirm alone for a moment in your bedroom. The way he’d stumbled his way in earlier, not wanting to make eye contact like he didn’t know what to do with his own hands? It was almost way too easy to tease him.

And there he was, practically glowing red, sitting next to the box you kept under the bed. A simple big box—hell, he was behaving so cautiously, like he’d just discovered a bomb or a dead body. But what really caught you was the thing in his hand. A vibrator.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me," you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. His head moved up, eyes wide as if he’d just been caught robbing a bank.

"Shit!" The vibrator fell out of his hand, hitting the floor, but that was only the start; the thing started buzzing further—vibrating across the floor and right toward your feet. Daryl didn’t move; he didn’t even reach for it. He just sat there, staring at the buzzing vibrator like it was going to bite him.

"Gonna tell me what you’re doin’ with my stuff?" You asked, half-amused, half-teasing, waiting to see what half-assed excuse he’d come up with, as you leaned against the door frame. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out at first.

"I… uh—" he stammered, swallowing loudly, his hands fidgeting like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. "I thought… I mean—thought it was, like, stuff for..." His voice trailed off, eyes looking to the ground, too ashamed to meet yours.

"Yeah? Stuff for what?" You pressed further, stepping forward, taking the vibrator and turning it off, stopping the noise but not the look of pure mortification on his face.

"I… thought it might be, y'know... Maybe it was, uh, y’know, things for... for bar stuff, or somethin’. Yer work." His voice was quiet, like he might get in trouble just for saying it out loud.

"For work?" You laughed and crouched down to sit next to him. "Yeah, Daryl, because every bartender needs a vibrator in her kit. So… You wanna tell me why you’re snooping, or am I just supposed to guess?"

You reached over, brushing a hand along the edge of your toy box, taking in the way his eyes tried to look at each item inside. Poor boy had no clue what half of it was for, but he looked at everything like it might burn him.

"Am sorry! I wasn’t… Jus'… waitin’ on ya an' got curious, I guess," he murmured. "Didn’t mean nothin’ by it."

You leaned in closer, enough that he could probably feel your breath on his face. "Curious, huh?" You asked, eyeing the way his shoulders tensed up. "You don't know what that stuff is?"

"Uh…" He blinked, looking between you and the vibrator like it might suddenly start buzzing again. "Not… really. No."

"Oh, you really don’t?" You pretended to be surprised. "It’s a toy, Dixon. A fun toy. For women. And men sometimes as well."

"That for real?" He asked, voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

"As real as it gets, sweetheart. And judging by that look on your face, I’d bet you don’t have much experience with this sorta things." You raised an eyebrow, daring him to admit it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping back to the floor. "Ain’t never… really..." He trailed off, his whole face full of embarrassment.

"Never what?" You asked, leaning in so close you could smell the cigarettes and sweat on him, and somehow, it drove you wild. "Fucked a woman? Or even fucked yourself, huh?"

"I—" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, a sound that told you everything you needed to know. "I don’t… don’t really know… how… t'do any of that."

"Oh, honey." You leaned back a little. "You look like you’re about ready to pass out."

Daryl trembled, trying to look anywhere but at you, his whole face burning. "I—I jus'… I dunno what to do with... all that," he continued, motioning awkwardly toward the box.

You smirked, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. "Guess no one’s shown you how a woman uses one of these before, huh?" You watched his reaction, loving every little deep breath he took and every embarrassed flinch.

"N-no… But what if... maybe they could've been... for, uh, drugs?" His face somehow went even more red, and he looked ready to sink into the floor.

"Drugs? What, you think I’m hiding some kind of dealer setup in my own bedroom? And especially right under my damn bed?" You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Trust me, they’ll get you high, alright—but not the way you’re thinkin’."

The embarrassment on his face was almost painful to watch as he shifted on the ground. "Like I said, I—I don't... Ain’t never done stuff like that before, okay? I—I mean, I done that with myself... sometimes. But not really... okay?"

You smiled, letting your fingers move over his, watching as his breath stopped, his eyes looking up to meet yours for a desperate second. "Well," you murmured, "maybe I could show you a thing or two. If you’re up for it, that is."

Daryl swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he glanced between you and the box again. He indeed looked like he was about to pass out, but he seemed curious—curious in a way that he couldn’t quite hide.

"Oh, c'mon, I know you want to," you whispered, clicking your tongue, standing up, and taking off your shirt slowly. His eyes looked up fast, staring at you, and he shifted on the spot, pressing his thighs together. That’s when you noticed the growing bulge in his pants—it was more than obvious he was already hard as a rock.

"Damn, Dixon," you chuckled, "you’ve got a real problem, don’t you?" You let your shirt fall down to the floor. "Hey, don’t just sit there looking lost—c’mon, no way you're that scared of undressing a woman!"

He stammered something, some half-strangled "n-no," his hands gripping his own thighs like he had to hold himself back from reaching for you. That only spurred you on, raising your brows as you grabbed him to stand up and guiding his trembling hands to the hem of your pants.

"Well, here’s your chance," you smirked, waiting for him to open the button. You watched his fingers fumble with it, shaking as he pulled down the zipper, and then, when he managed to pull your pants down over your hips along with your panties, his eyes widened like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

"Keep goin’, don't be shy," you whispered, guiding his fingers down your thighs until your clothes hit the floor.

He just stood there, staring, mouth opening like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. You leaned in close, eyes locked on his, before you knelt down again and took the vibrator out of the box once more, pressing the button and letting it hum.

His eyes shot to the toy, watching with pure terror and fascination, and when you pressed it into his hand again, he held it like some foreign, sacred object he was too scared to break.

"Here," you mumbled, laying down onto the bed, legs spread just enough to give him a view he couldn’t tear himself away from even if he tried, before you pulled him next to you and guided his hand between your legs, pressing the vibrator to your thigh and dragging it higher. "Just like that, Daryl. Feels interesting, doesn’t it?"

Daryl could barely breathe, staring down as if hypnotized, the muscles in his whole body tensing up. When you moved his hand to press the vibrator against your pussy, you felt him stiffen, his other hand gripping his thigh to stop himself from trembling. The toy was vibrating against you, and you let out a quiet, satisfied sigh, glancing up just in time to see the way his eyes stayed on you, watching every little twitch and shiver of your body.

"I bet you’re a quick learner," you teased, reaching down to guide his hand again, moving it with the toy so it hit just right, and damn, if it didn’t feel good. His mouth fell open a little, and he sucked in a breath when you suddenly moaned, pressing yourself harder against the vibrator. His hand moved a bit awkwardly, like he didn’t quite know if he was supposed to be touching you this way, but the look in his eyes said he wanted to keep going more than anything.

You let out another moan, a little louder this time, just to see the way he reacted. His grip on the toy tightened, and you didn’t miss the way he was fighting with himself, clearly struggling to keep himself in check as his cock pressed harder against his pants, his breath coming out faster and shorter.

"Poor thing," you whispered, pulling his hand away for a moment, just to watch him struggle. "Bet you’ve never been this hard, huh?" Daryl's eyes looked at you, wide and mortified, like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. But the look he gave you—so desperate, so needy—only made you want to push him further.

"You wanna see what this thing can do to me?" You asked, not giving him time to answer as you pressed the vibrator into his hand again and guided it back between your legs. "Just keep it steady, like that. Right there." You rocked your hips against it, letting out a shaky breath as the lust built itself up inside of you, still watching as he clung to every little sound that left your lips.

Daryl's eyes were glued to you, his mouth open, and you noticed the way he kept moving his hips, trying to get rid of his hard-on. But no matter how much he squirmed, it wasn’t enough. He was near leaking through his pants by now, his cock being so hard he couldn’t think straight, and the sight of you practically coming undone in front of him had him on the edge himself.

"Feels good, doesn’t it, Dixon? But... don't you want to feel that too?" You taunted, moving your fingers along his wrist, pushing him to press harder and the toy just a tiny bit into you, wanting to let him feel every little tremor that wracked your body. He just nodded, lost for words, breathing hard, his eyes moving between your face and the way your hips bucked against his hand.

"Keep going, just like that," you urged, and he obeyed, pressing the vibrator a little harder, his other hand softly brushing against your thigh as if he needed something to hold onto to keep himself from falling apart. His face was so close now, so flushed, eyes wide with need, lips parted as he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

"Y’know, Daryl," you moaned, "you’re doing a hell of a job for someone who’s never touched a woman before, not even with toys." His face burned, but he kept going, kept pressing that toy against your pussy, completely mesmerized by the way you reacted.

"You like watching me, don’t you?" You murmured, letting out another moan that left him swallowing hard. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed... that you can’t keep your eyes off me and how damn hard you are."

He tried to come up with a response, something about "I... I didn’t mean to..." but his words trailed off, and he was just there, helpless, utterly at your mercy, his hand tightening on the toy as you let out one last moan that left him breathless and staring, before you snatched the vibrator from him and clicked it off.

The little tremor it left in his hand was nothing compared to the way he stared at you now, still holding onto that last bit of control.

"Think you can do it without help?" You asked, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand to your pussy and to make him feel how wet you were, his fingers twitching as they moved along your folds. Daryl nodded but was holding on for dear life and trying not to slip.

"I... I dunno," he mumbled, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Oh, for the love of... here," you growled, placing your hand over his, guiding his touch lower, rougher, until you dragged his fingers exactly where you wanted them. But Daryl was a mess, barely holding himself together, his other hand still clamped over that hard bulge in his pants as he lay there beside you.

"Now, watch closely," you instructed, pressing his fingers just the way you liked it. "Doesn’t take much, does it?" You smiled, letting your free hand move down his chest, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. "Bet you’d come just feeling me touch you."

He whimpered, the outline of his cock pulsing through his pants, a wet spot already forming itself. It didn’t take much to notice the hesitation in his every move, making him so easy to toy with.

You leaned back a little, pushing your tits forward. "Go on and position yourself over me," you dared, and as soon as he did, you lifted his other hand from his bulge to your tits, watching as he sucked in a breath, his hand shaking as if he were holding something he had no right to touch. "Ever felt these before?"

Daryl shook his head, still wide-eyed, his eyes looking into yours for a second before dropping back down, like he was afraid to look too long.

"Then make the most of it." You reached down, pressing his other hand harder against you. "I want you to use that mouth of yours now," you smirked, pushing him down to press his lips against your nipples. His breath was warm and shaky, and he hesitated, his mouth just an inch away from you. You raised an eyebrow, daring him, and after a long, deep breath, he finally leaned in.

"That's a good boy," you praised, your fingers running through his hair, feeling him shiver under your touch. He was so damn easy to play with, each little whimper and moan only turning you on more, urging him to suck and lick, his tongue slow but eager, desperate for more.

"Gently," you ordered, glancing down to see him lose himself, his hands now touching you like he didn’t want to let go. The poor guy was panting, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked and kissed your nipple, as if the sight alone would push him over the edge.

You soon moved your hand down, feeling the outline of his cock through his pants, feeling him flinch, his breath stopping as you gave him just a bit of what he wanted. "This what you want, Daryl?" You whispered, teasing him and squeezing his shaft just enough to make him groan, his hips bucking, desperate for more. "You do, don't you? But now, I want you to eat me out."

Daryl couldn’t even get out a response, his mouth still on your nipple, but the look in his eyes told you everything.

"Pathetic, but also really cute," you laughed, unzipping his pants just enough to reach inside, your fingers wrapping around his cock and making him gasp, his whole body tensing as you squeezed him. He was thick, hard, already wet from the pre-cum that leaked from his tip, and the way he moaned, quite high, only made you want to drag it out and tease him until he was begging to come.

As you quickly positioned yourself over his face, you could see how he was a nervous wreck the moment your ass hovered above him. "Oh, please, don’t just lay there. Get to work," you teased, lowering yourself down, your pussy brushing against his lips.

When he finally opened his mouth, it was like you flipped a switch. The moment your folds hit his tongue, he moaned, the sound muffled against you. It sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but grind against his face, pushing him harder against you.

"God, you’re a natural," you gasped, encouraging him with your hips. "Just like that, baby. Don’t be shy; use your tongue."

Daryl’s mouth worked hesitantly at first, but the more you ground down, the more confident he became. His face was buried in your pussy, the taste of you driving him wild as he licked and sucked, trying to figure out what made you feel good, and the way he looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and lust, only made you want to ride his face harder.

"Yeah, keep going," you panted, feeling your legs tremble as he finally got into a rhythm. "Good boy, just like that," you moaned, feeling the tension building inside you. He was so focused, so eager to please, and the way he hungrily licked and sucked made you see stars.

"Don’t stop, Daryl. I’m so close," you urged. "Yeah, that’s it," you moaned, pushing your hips down even harder. "Don’t you dare stop. Just like that—yes!"

The way he held your thighs, trying to hold you against him, and the way he whimpered against you—those sweet little sounds pushed you right over. "I’m cumming! Fuck!"

Your body tensed, and you ground down harder again, shaking and feeling him groan against your dripping pussy as you let go and came, completely lost in the moment.

You felt him drink it all in, and you knew he was just as lost as you were. The second you pushed yourself off his face and watched him, face red and lips parted, you could tell Daryl had no idea what to do with himself. Wide-eyed and panting, he lay there as if you’d just dragged him straight into some fever dream he wasn’t even ready for. He seemed so helpless as he tried to piece together the storm of feelings that’d just hit him.

"Still with me, Daryl?" You asked, letting your weight push him further into the bed. His eyes looked down between your legs, then looked away, like he didn’t have the courage to watch.

"Y-yeah…"

He shuddered, that helpless little whine slipping out as you leaned down, your mouth right over his. He was as stiff as a board beneath you, looking both horrified and desperately curious at the same time.

"Think you can handle more of this?" You whispered, one hand moving down and wrapping around his cock as you took it fully out of his pants.

"W-wait," he stammered, trying to close his legs in a last attempt to get some space, but you only held him tighter, giving his cock a slow, teasing stroke. It twitched in your hand, leaking all over your fingers like he couldn’t stop himself.

"Sweetie, look at you," you smiled, swirling a finger over the tip, just to watch him jerk, hips lifting up like he was begging. "So needy aren't we?"

Daryl let out another whimper, his face going beet-red, those shy eyes looking away once more as though if he didn’t look at you, he’d somehow be less mortified.

"Feels so good, huh?"

His whole body was practically trembling with need, and he was leaking—a lot. His cock throbbed in your hand, pre-cum dripping so much it smeared along your fingers.

"Damn, Daryl," you whispered, smirking as your fingers now teased along the underside of his cock. "Didn’t know you’d be this easy, really."

You soon leaned down, your mouth just over his cock; the slightest lick of your tongue along his tip pushed another bit of pre-cum out, and you couldn’t help but laugh, loving every bit of his need.

"Baby, look at you, leaking everywhere," you teased again, wiping the tip with your thumb before bringing it to your lips, licking off the taste. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, you pulled back slightly before leaning up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your lips.

It made him moan again, his hands reaching out to grip your body as if needing to ground himself. "P-please…" He whispered, but you didn’t give in just yet.

Instead, you reached down, grabbing your vibrator again. You saw the way his eyes narrowed, with pure nervousness all over his face, as you suddenly pressed the toy to his cock, starting at the lowest setting. The buzzing made him gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily against you as you dragged the vibrator along his shaft, right along that sensitive spot just under the head. Every time it brushed up and down, he leaked more against your hand, only making it messier.

"Oh s-shit…" He whimpered, sounding utterly wrecked.

With a smirk, you leaned back and held up the vibrator for him to see, his eyes following it, dazed, and lips parted. "I think that’s enough; otherwise you might explode on the spot," you said, watching his expression drop just slightly as he looked at you switching it off and tossing it back into your toy box all of a sudden.

Leaning up, you gave his lips a slow, lazy kiss, feeling him melt against you, even more needy when you pulled away and slipped back down. And damn if he didn’t start leaking more, a fresh drop of slick pre-cum glistening right there, just begging to be tasted.

"How sweet you are, Daryl," you murmured, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of his cock, not missing the way his hips jerked up instinctively, even though he didn't seem to understand why. One gentle lick. That’s all it took for him to be close again, and he was helpless against it.

"Just relax and enjoy it," you continued, letting your tongue move along the tip of his cock and the desperate little gasp of his driving you wild as he grabbed the sheets, practically sobbing as he tried to hold back.

You wrapped your lips around just the head, barely enough to count as anything. But to him? It was like fireworks going off.

"N-no, I—oh fuck, I can’t—" He breathed out as his head fell back, his body shivering under you.

And when you took him just that tiny bit deeper, that was it—he lost it. Hard. He tried to hold it, tried to push you back even, one hand weakly pressing against your head, but he was already too far gone. The orgasm tore through Daryl, overpowering him completely.

His whole body stiffened, a helpless cry coming from his throat as he finally lost it, filling your mouth with his cum as he came. Before he even had time to process it, you’d swallowed every last drop from his throbbing cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked back up at him.

He was still shaking, his mind clearly blown, and when he finally managed to look at you, it was with that same wide-eyed shock.

Daryl just lay there, still in shock, his body trembling as reality sank in. "D-did ya really jus'—" His voice cracked with disbelief all over his face as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened.

You smirked at him, leaning in close, your lips moving softly against his in a teasing kiss. "What’s the matter, sweet boy? Never had someone swallow your cum before?"

He quickly shook his head. "I—I thought ya might get pregnan' or somethin'!" He stammered in embarrassment, his mind racing with the wildest thoughts.

"Oh, cutie. You really think it’s that easy? I'm sorry, but that's not how it works," you laughed, nudging his arm, enjoying the way his shoulders tensed up like he was trying to hide from you. "What? Can’t even look me in the eye after that?"

He opened his mouth, but whatever words he thought he might stammer out just died right there, and his hand went up to scratch the back of his neck.

"I... I didn’ mean to..." he finally managed to say, his voice cracking in the middle, his face still as red as a tomato.

You raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t mean to what? Coming in record time?" You let out a sarcastic scoff, and he near cried, ducking his head as though it would save him.

"I-I dunno, I thought... I jus', I mean—" he stumbled over each word. "Jus' ain’t never been with... y’know, anyone... like that."

"No kidding," you replied dryly, watching him shrink even smaller, if that was possible. "Anyone coulda guessed that, by the way, you freaked the hell out." He winced at your words, but hell, it just made him look all the more adorable, laying there.

When you placed a hand on his thigh, he went stiff as a board all over. "Easy, Daryl," you murmured. "No one’s laughing at you... much."

"I-I’m... sorry," he mumbled again.

"Sorry?" You scoffed, tilting his chin up to force his eyes to look at you. "For what? That you came too soon, or that you actually loved it?"

He tried to look away, but your fingers held him in place. "Both, I reckon," he answered, his voice shaking. It was like he thought he’d done something wrong, like he needed to apologize for being human.

"Nothing wrong with it, Dixon. Means I sure as hell did it right." You laughed, running a thumb over his jawline as he stared back at you.

"Bet that head of yours is just spinning right now, ain’t it?" You said, half-mocking. "Poor, sweet Daryl, don’t know what to do with himself now."

It was easy to see what he still needed—what he wanted, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it. You didn’t have to guess, though. He was desperate for something more, desperate for you to just tell him what to do. It was obvious that he had no experience with women or anything like this, but it didn’t matter to you. If anything, it just made it better. You wanted him nervous.

"Hey," you said softly. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed. Not at all." You could see that he wanted to apologize again, wanting to make up for how pathetic he felt.

"Tell you what," you said, kissing his cheek. "You’ve got a lot to learn, Daryl Dixon. But I think you’re gonna like it. You just need to stop worrying." His hands moved to your waist, but they were hesitant, unsure. "And me? Well, I’m not here to judge you."

You took his hands and placed them back on your body, guiding him again. This time, he didn’t hesitate much, but it seemed as if he was trying to copy the way you had guided him earlier, trying to find some way to make up for what had happened. But that, for now, was enough.

"Don’t worry," you said, grinning at him, "I’m going to teach you."

Because you would. And he had no choice. Maybe that was what you liked most. The way Daryl needed you now, the way he didn’t even know what he wanted, but he was willing to follow you with your help along the way.

And he was only going to fall deeper.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema — (also tagging @darylsdelts as requested)

[yanmuffins]

asks 2.

context.

here are some more asks i'm replying to in a bulk about phineas and ferb reader!!

my favorite part in dc. vs vampires is when reader comes together with damian and damian to build a silly machine that un-vampifies people in like half a day so they can defeat the vampire king. it is canon.

@amethystjellyfish

perry really is reader's number #1 stan. they're his family, reader's had him since he was a small platypus baby!

he does his best to keep reader safe, which is why he doesn't like the batfam much. he keeps it professional on the rare occasions they go on missions together, but that's it. he hates how dismissive of reader they are in the beginning, and he hates them later on when they star showering them with attention because they found out about their inventions.

not tired, anon! i love seeing people enjoy my concepts and interact with them!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

and i'm sure this has happened. more than once, actually. the power of coincidence is strong with reader. the life-saving laser beam comes from a situation involving reader's latest machine they built and tested with the help of jon.

unfortunately, one of his lasers richochets on the machine during testing, not only causing it to save batfamily's life, caught in a dangerous situation in a completely different location, but also destroys the machine so there's nothing to link it to reader.

ah, well. they'll just have to keep looking.

reader, seeing them run past her: oh! there's perry :)

i love how we have established tim is terrified of this platypus. nevermind the other pets in the manor, it's the platypus with its googly eyes that drives him insane. they don't get it, he got up to drink water at 3 a.m. and the thing was just there, looking at him. menacingly.

jason would though. meanwhile, perry is wishing he could just go back to metropolis. he didn't have to deal with reader's siblings in metropolis. he doesn't get enough hazard pay for this.

hm... good question!

i like to think that, much like with phineas and ferb, luck is on reader's side most of the time, so i don't see reader getting injured by their own inventions.

but, let's suppose they do: it's a nice sunday afternoon, the batfam has decided to gather around the living room and hang out, watch a movie, lots of popcorn and soda. they don't have to think about criminals or fighting, tim and damian are bickering, jason is around, peace reigns the manor.

until they hear an explosion. they run to the garage only to find reader on the floor, unconscious, bleeding, and an assortment of destroyed metal components to a machine they can't decipher. damian doesn't even feel good about reader finally being busted.

later, when reader is back home, awake and out of risk but with a bandage around their head and their leg in a cast, they're in for the biggest (and probably first) scolding of their entire lives. reader tries to play it off. it wasn't that big of a deal, they're fine, aren't they? and they're genuinely optimistic about it. but the entire family is talking over each other at first, until bruce signals for everyone to shut up and leave the room. he has a very serious talk with reader, and makes it very clear they're not to come near a toolbox ever again.

but he understands. it's partly his fault for not being attentive. he won't make that mistake again.

ofc reader is really upset. dick comes next, then stephanie, then cass, then duke, then barbara and they all try to convince reader in a much more amiable tone that hey, it's fine. who needs to do all that whacky stuff to have fun? just hang out with us. they can get another hobby, and this time they can make it a family thing! how's that sound? not fun? don't be like that... they're sure reader will come around.

tim is pretty much the only one who congratulates them for being awesome pulling all those stunts, one per day, it's impressive. but now it's time to step back a bit. who knows? try being careful and bruce will let you work with a welding tool again. one day. maybe.

damian and jason's reactions are more similar to bruce's. in other circumstances, damian is on reader's side and helps them sneak around to continue their shenanigans, but in the case of reader getting hurt he just wants them to not do that. any of that. ever again. and jason has to hold himself back not to snap and ask them what the hell were they thinking?! they could have died! he ends up just telling them to quit it. they're just a kid who shouldn't be messing around with that sort of stuff.

anon, i wouldn't go as far as say he'd use venom against them, but he's bit batfam before. as stated, he does not dig their vibe at all!

anon, that's a great idea! though i think p&f! reader is much too motivated by the creative process and experience that their inventions bring more than just willing them to come to life.

they have the power to create whatever they want, but what's the fun of it? what about hte process? the building? the friends they make along the way? the memories? i think reader would find the ring awesome at first, but the novelty would wear of in less than a week.

anon...

because i dig the idea of reader being friends with dipper and mabel. reader talks about their crazy inventions, and loves hearing about all the cryptids they came across during vacation.

reader invites the twins to the manor, they share their most recent summer memories. reader talks about that one time they built and drove a massive monster truck with their brother damian, but jason only comes into the room in time to hear about dipper and mable talk about the weirdmaggedon. he has several question marks around his head. aren't those kids a a little too old to be making shit up? or maybe... no, there's no way. or is there? no... he would have heard about this... but weirder things have happened. but what if...

@randomlyappearingartist

you are so right. to be honest, i don't even think the batfam would even know of his existence, since he's pretty much a very minor villain acting in metropolis. after perry joins the league, or in the rare occasion of dr. doof teaming up with another minor gotham villian like condiment man, is when they get to know he exists.

and since perry seems to have him under control, they don't even acknowledge the guy.

i love love love this sm!

they assume it's just flash mobs. it's got to be. flash mobs with really weird themes, like an entire musical number dedicated to the squirrels in damian's pants. that was strange. bruce patrolling in the middle of the night and this new crime lord just burst into a song with a band and hired back dancers, because it's apparently a new trend a minor villain in metropolis started.

and what about that one time dick took damian (and reader) to the library and some guy just started singing about how he doesn't have rhythm? and damian just started playing a trumpet? and reader started singing? i mean, it was a bop and he started dancing, but it was weird anyway.

but now i'm thinking of damian and reader singing the "summer" song together (he sings the "it's noticeably warmer" and that's it) though! wholesome.

@lazyandannoyng

not annoying at all! you're good ⸜(˙꒳​˙ )

i have this little idea in my head that reader doesn't take the wayne name when find out bruce is their dad and move to gotham, and bruce is pretty secretive about this new kid of his for purely privacy and safety reasons. so when reader does their networking, it's often not obvious they're a wayne. not sure if this will make it into the fic, but it really resonates with this concept!

it's also funny to think that a lot of people don't even know reader and the waynes are related. even if they do know reader is related to the batfam, nobody really talks about them by name (just "your sibling"), and all of those little details like never asking about where the gloves came from (because why would he) or the misunderstandings where one party means one thing and the other assumes it's another (dick has many siblings! too many!) just end up helping reader not get caught. and i just think that's neat.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Ooooh, I love this!

Originally, I had planned for a bunch of people from other franchises to the part of this but I was too lazy to write it out.

Sephiroth from Ever Crisis was going to be there learning how to interact with other people around his age as they deprogramed him from the brainwashing Shinra did.

Inertia was there because I liked him and wanted to learn more about him. I still need to Google more. I'm sorry

Jynx from the Teen Titans show from when I was a kid. The pink haired girl who could cause unlucky things to happen and fire energy beams (might also be magical???) is there, very doubtful that she could ever be "good" but has been talked into giving it a try

Psaro was there as part of the negotiations he had done with the Justice League. They would protect his younger half-brother Prince Ludo and his brothers mother, Elshael, as the two received psychiatric care at a mental institution in Central City. Psaro would also be given special lessons on how to properly rule Nadiria as king by members of the Justice Leage.

There naturally would be more characters than this, but my point is that each of these people is powerful, traumatized, and have difficulty letting people in. Everyone goes through a minimum of one story arc involving facing thier past traumas, Sephiroth faces of against Shinra as they try to reclaim him, maybe on a political propaganda route, maybe they attack with an army of highly trained enhanced humans and machines and are repelled, maybe they successfully capture Seph and the team recues him to see the full scope of the horrors Sephiroth has endured. Maybe all of the above?

For Psaro, I think dealing with the so called "heros" who followed him to this world only for them to be arrested and put on trial would be both funny and satisfying. I'll explain more in the comments if someone asks

And Jynx being captured by her old crew from the H.I.V.E. Five only for her to convince them to also join before her rescue even arrives

Ludo eventually joins tok when he is deemed mentally fit enough to do so. Does he betray them? Probably. Does him announcing his arrival with poetry like Genesis Rhapsodos trigger a reaction from Sephiroth, make him realize that he's not as emotionally healed from Shinras torment as he had thought he was? Absolutely.

Everyone here is messed up.

I don't think I need to mention Damian and him having to deal with the LOA and their issues from time to time, do I?

Then Danny, safe, sane Danny betrays them.

Danny, who loved to try bizarre and amazing food combos with Thad.

Danny, who liked to draw with Damian and invite him to play fetch with Cujo..

Danny, who stayed and comforted Jynx through her worst breakdowns saying, "I'm a Fenton. We're already unlucky!"

Danny, who channeled Jazz to explain human behavior to Sephiroth to help him fit in with his new friends.

Danny, who was always happy to have pun battles with Psaro.

That Danny was fake. Danny betrayed them.

Idk which is better. Danny freeing his parents and going on the run with them or Waller, killing them and Danny going for revenge.

Danny held up a large sign from the background like a man at an airport as thier leader, Robin, gave his report to this "Justice League". The first sign said, "Help! I'm surrounded by daddy issues!" Earning a laugh from someone off camera. He then pulled the next card out from behind the first one.

"Can you send air fresheners? It smells like teen angst in here"

This one got a cackle from someone on the Justice League side of things. Score. No one here really wants to laugh. They're all edgelords and Danny is suffering. He didn't really want to be here, but things in Amity had ended in a way he never expected.

Both he and his parents had been arrested.

Not by his worlds government, mind you, but by the government of another Earth. This Earth that he was currently on to be more accurate. Who knew that so much of the stuff he and his parents had been doing was super illegal and wouldn't ya know it? He was in the middle of doing something really sketchy looking in his parents lab when the feds busted in.

Thankfully, the Justice League presented him with a deal: they take him out of Juvie and the reformation program he was in, and in return, he joins a team of former teen/child villains and anti-heros.

Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point he agreed.

He was not expecting to be surrounded by angry angsty teens. His fault really. He should have known better. Thankfully it seems like nobody knows about Phantom and he'd like to keep it that way.

Psaro was his calm in the storm. The other boy was proud and almost as arrogant as Robin, but he had been proven to be very kind and reliable. If Danny ever needed advice or if Robin was getting a bit too much, he could just knock of Psaros door.

The last time Robin had a fit and was starting a fight with someone, Mr. Pointy ears stepped up and told Robin that his outburst was undignified, especially for someone of a higher class like Robin seems to be presenting himself as. He also said something about there being a big difference between a king and a tyrant, but Danny had been trying to rush Robin's victim to the medway and didn't hear all of the convo.

Psaro was some kind of half demon prince who was also from another world. He didn't have a superhero name yet, but the program was brand new, and to be fair, Danny didn't officially have one either.

Some lady called Raven was supposed to be coming in to help Psaro and convince him to embrace his human half and help him with magic and...something about a curse? What did Danny get himself into???

[relia-robot-writes]

I am the Princess in the Tower.

You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."

It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.

Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.

I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.

It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.

I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?

Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.

See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...

Not buying it?

Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...

No good?

Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!

...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.

Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.

And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.

There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair

I wish

I hope that you

Please don't

I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,

The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.

[bananonbinary]

apparently a radfem movement called 4B is getting a surge of popularity on social media since the election, with the reasoning, "if men do not respect us, they should not have access to us at all." the idea is to withhold all sex and intimacy until women have all their rights.

and like. putting aside all the many many reasons that radfem ideology and bioessentialism sucks, and the fact that "men" are not a group you can "negotiate" with as a whole because they are not an organized group with leadership, this is just....a very very dangerous game to be playing.

like. okay. there are two scenarios on how this could play out, because again, it isn't any sort of organized "protest" between ""the sexes,"" it's just gonna be some women and their partners, who do not really give a shit about what a bunch of strangers on tiktok are doing.

option 1) he already respected women's rights, voted against abortion bans, and cannot actually change anything on his own. you are making both him and yourself miserable for literally no reason at all. you have turned what should be a really nice relationship where you can relax into a weird adversarial thing that abhors real vulnerability. this is the BETTER option.

option 2) he IS a trump supporter who thinks he should have access to all women's bodies. in which case, saying "no more sex until you give me rights" is NOT going to go down the way you think it is. you do not have collective bargaining power here. you are going to get very badly hurt, and an already probably abusive relationship is going to get a lot worse. that's not to say that a woman in that position would in any way "deserve" it, just that. when you are faced with an abuser, you should absolutely not try to play mind games or reassert your power to them. you should try and get the fuck out. call real organizations that can help you, don't follow random bullshit tiktok trends. those influencers will NOT give you a place to stay when shit hits the fan.

anyway the national domestic violence hotline is 800-799-SAFE.

[docdudo]

Hey, not sure if requests are open but imagine this, it's cold out, maybe it snowed, maybe not. Tf141 (hybrid) are out with adopted reader, since she's still young she might have some childish qualities. Maybe she'd eat snow? An icicle? Or she would use the hot air from her mouth to act like a dragon? Just a little fruit for thought, it's alright if you don't follow up on this.

Stay safe, drink lots of water and get plenty of rest.

Unfortunelly, reader is not really a playful kid kkkkkkkkkkkk

They do play, and they like to do little things here and there, but they are very shy, mostly likes to do things on their own without anyone's attention on them.

They would certainly still do things they enjoy, so if they are in the snow, they are probably going to just kneel quietly to the side and start to build little snowmen, like, lots of little snowmen.

But don't worry, the 141 will always be there to try and bring the reader out of their shell. It's thanks to Johnny and Kyle that you get to experience sliding down a snowy hill with a board for the first time. And it's thanks to Simon and John that you learn how to make hot chocolate and smoores (inside, but still good for the snowy weather) and get to try cooking more.

[irrealisms]

wanted to respond to some tags-

@fitmc #fitmc invebtory is something so special to me#compare to in the QSMP where he is as disorganized as a clam#there are still weapons but there's less. there's also building blocks. and sticks#mcyt

that's SO neat!!! exactly the sort of inventory ~analysis i was thinking of here :D i wonder if there's similar stuff (less, uh, extreme) to see in comparison between life series and hermitcraft? but also i'm just struck by the understated storytelling there. he feels safe enough to be disorganized... ;u;

@kamipyrifolia #lifesteal inventories are so. why do you have 20 pots and not a single ender chest/shulker#like i get it but i also don’t get it#mcyt

okay so this is on me-- i took the screenshot when the ender chest was placed down, the single empty slot is where the ender chest usually goes. the idea is that you carry One ender chest, so that when you put it down you have an inventory slot with which to shuffle shulkers around; here's a screenshots of zam's inventory with the ender chest (different season but it's the same idea)

@verbummallum #is the tubbo one from the pogtopia arc because that is just so manberg tubbo#no tools just weapons because he wasnt doing anything that needed tools but he was constantly ready to defend himself#glass bottle that schlatt probably dropped and he picked up#baked potatoes for food because ctechno farmed potatoes for 14 hours straight#the water bucket being in the middle of his hotbar is very funny though why is it There

nope! the tubbo one is from doomsday :D the water bucket is interesting though; i bet it's on a specific part of his hotbar bc that's where he usually keeps it and therefore where his muscle memory for MLGs is, and this alerts me to "do they keep a water bucket in their hotbar for MLGs" as smth that also says something abt a person!

@darksqsmp #i think how characters interact with their inventories can be very interesting too!#like on the qsmp my friends and i jokes sometimes about how watching phil during lore is like#*reorganizes inventory* *looks in his backpacks* *reorganizes inventory* bc he was constantly interacting with it!#meanwhile most other povs. especially during lore. tended to ignore it entirely!#(and phils reogranizing ended up being very interest bc during the ek arc he would notice when admins/ 'the ender king'#would shuffle things around or add stuff and he/we would notice it very quickly! but it was different and that says something i think)

i don't have much to say about this one but this is really really neat to hear about and i wanted to highlight it!!! you're right that is very interesting!

also this is a reblog and not tags but @syn4k added some other inventories in a reblog; check those out!!!

everyone in mcyt fandom talks about bad inventories but i feel like we don't talk enough about the different types of bad inventory & the ways that inventories can be characterizing. i took most of these screenshots but one or two of them aren't by me and i've just had them saved for a few months sorry. i'm taking inventories from various people across various servers (wild life, dream smp, hermitcraft, lifesteal, and 2b2t) to illustrate my point here

like there are inventories that are bad because they're empty:

but then there's also inventories that are bad because they're full:

and, like-- the different ways an inventory can be bad are also characterizing? an inventory can be bad because the items aren't stacked; or because it's empty of anything useful; or because it's so full of building/fight supplies that there's no slots left for doing anything else; or because it's full of random junk. it speaks to a character's position (compare tubbo's diamond sword and empty inventory to ranboo's netherite sword or zam's full inventory of potions) and the rules of the server they're on (tubbo's not wearing elytra because elytra aren't allowed on the dsmp; zam's inventory has chorus fruit and wind charges but no ender pearls because ender pearls aren't allowed this season on lifesteal) and what their priorities are (building, pvp, lore) and how organized vs scattered they are and so much more. another inventory i like:

like!!! that's so instantly characterizing, for both the character and the server!!!! 5 stacks of end crystals + obsidian. 6 stacks of tnt. 3 stacks of god apples and a stack of chorus fruit as your only food. the bucket of lava and bucket of water for lavacasting. the fact that the flint and steel is enchanted with unbreaking. that's a STORY--of the character but also of the server! this is not the sort of inventory you have on most servers! it's so focused around griefing--explosions, lavacasts--and pvp, and the stacks of god apples as primary food source are an instant warning sign for widespread duping. the chorus fruit not for fights--ender pearls are strictly better, and he's got some so he clearly has access to them--which means it's for escaping traps, which means that's a live concern. it's got a lot of pvp supplies but it's so wildly different from the lifesteal inventory in ways that speak to the differences in server rules and cultures. like, horrendous inventory in many ways. also, very good inventory in some ways. also also, delightful inventory! fascinating inventory!!! inventories are such a delightful source of instant characterization i love them so so much

[macgyvermedical]

As a trans guy I'm really worried about maintaining access to T. I live in a safe state but I know how quickly things can change in a matter of months to years, so.. I'm worried. That being said, what do you know of DIY HRT? I know that cis guys sometimes use T and I doubt they always go through their doctor, so I'm curious how that works.

I don't want to have to do this, but I figured I should at least know the gist of it should I ever need to or if someone I know is in the same situation.

P.S thank you for being here for everyone who has questions. It means a lot 🩵

As a fellow trans guy, I feel you. Note that while the following looks like advice, it is for educational purposes only, and you are using this information at your own risk.

The following is listed from least to most illegal:

Probably your absolute best bet (especially if you pass) is to get a doctor that can prescribe T for male hypogonadism (low T). Now, this is probably not going to be an in-person doctor for two reasons. One is that they will probably do a testicular exam, which will give things away. Second, most electronic medical records link up these days, so any doctor treating you will be able to pull your medical records and find out you're trans.

One possible way around this is telehealth, which has boomed since the pandemic. Try googling "male hypogonadism telehealth" to check around for options. This will probably need to be paid out of pocket under a fake name if you want to ensure your account isn't linked. Make sure you know the symptoms of male hypogonadism, or come up with a story about how you're already diagnosed because you had mumps as a kid or something. Note that if they ask for a blood test, which they probably will, and you're not already out of T, skip your dose and take the test a few days later, so you test low. The nice thing about this is it gets you a diagnosis that can only be gotten if you're AMAB, so it lends credibility to your situation.

The next option is to stockpile some T while you still have access to it. Because T is controlled, the most T you can have in your possession is a 6-month prescription (otherwise you risk a 4th degree felony). However, if the prescription is written for 1-ml vials and your dose is 0.5ml/week and the prescription says to "discard vial after 1 dose" you can technically have up to a year (because in theory, you're throwing away 0.5ml of T each time you inject- but you could also, in theory, keep it and use it as long as you were careful to clean the top with alcohol before you puncture it). Keep in mind that even if you happen to get more T than a year's worth, it's only good for about 3 years before it starts losing potency or may become contaminated.

The (far) next option is to find someone in the bodybuilding community and start asking around. Making it clear that you know how to do injections will get you to people who have T that they don't want to self-inject but may trade you (or at least sell to you) for doing their injections. This is your best bet for finding illegal T. Note that T is a (pretty dang) controlled substance. You and everyone involved in getting T to you is at significant legal risk (that 4th degree felony again).

Unfortunately even looking in the dark recesses of reddit I was not able to find a safe "recipe" for testosterone. Most of what is suggested is to buy T powder from overseas and compound it yourself into a cream. This is very very illegal and could be very dangerous if you don't do it correctly. I'm not going to talk about it here because I don't understand it enough. Also it's really freaking illegal.

Note: If you haven't yet had a hysterectomy, I suggest you do everything in your power to keep a functioning ovary. That way if you do lose access to T, you won't lose bone density. If you have already gotten your ovaries removed, talk to a doctor about low-dose hormones to maintain bone density.

[joyrose-fandomer]

"END OF THE SESSION! END OF THE SESSION!"

Grian's voice echoed across the server, reverberating into everyone's mind, as it usually does at the start and end of each session.

Except this time it was loud and full of panic.

As a natural result, BigB, from the other side of the server, brought his concern in chat.

But on the cherry blossom hill, everyone was frozen in place, as still as their snails. Eyes empty, trying to put together the hell of a day they just went through.

And finally after a long silence... FLOP!

The echo of something soft hitting the floor.

"Skizz, are you ok down there?" Mumbo enquiered

"I'M. SO. DONE!!!" Yelled back

This seemingly brought the group back to reality. And they all started laughing and dropping to the floor one after the other.

"I should answer BigB, the poor fella's probably worried" Pearl stated from where she was lying on the ground, tapping on her come

And once more the group fell into silence, a more comfortable one this time

As they stared at the darkening sky, eSCARgo blinked back into existence,

Right next to Scar

The vex hybrid jumped 3 feet in the air with a Cartoonish scream, causing a chain reaction

and soon everyone but Grian was screaming

"AAAAAaaaaaaAAAAHHHHhhhhHHH"

"Why are we screaming?!"

"I don't know!"

"The snail j-just APPERED out of nowhere!"

"Scar, it's just potion effect running out..." Grian deadpanned

"Scar, you scared the life out of me, you did" Mumbo mumbled

Jimmy jumped to his feet

"Let's kick the stupid snail!"

"Jimmy no, leave the poor snail alone!" Pearl cried

"Yes! Let's go!"

"Lizzie!?"

"This feels like animal cruelty" Mumbo comented

"I can't believe you would hurt a poor animal like that, Timmy" Grian teased

"Here, take that you stupid snail" Jimmy faked hitting the unmoving gastropod

"Nooo! poor baby!" Pearl cried

"OooOOO the vengeance is sweet, this is what you get for killing me you- youuuu- Snail!"

"Very inspired scar" The moustached man commented

"Thank you Mumbo, I try"

"Snails are gastropods" Grian couldn't help but correct

"gastratoad?"

"gastropods..."

"That's what I said, my feathered friend"

"Scar-"

They kept chatting and joking with each other for a while until it got so dark that they couldn't see each other.

Thankfully when the sessions ended, the game was turned to Pacifique, no mob, no PvP, no hunger, no damage so no death.

They were safe despite the inky darkness.

Still, they were tired, and eventually, the little group went their own ways.

Mumbo went back to check on Skizz, Grian on his toes.

Pearl made her way back to her team

Which left the bamboozlers by themselves, all of them too tired to move

Now that nothing was distracting them Scar was fidgeting with the Tnt minecart, getting visibly more frustrated by the second

"Scar"

The vex hybrid turns to his left

"How 'bout we put that aside for now?"

Jimmy gently picked up the block out of Scar's hands, Scar didn't fight back

It wasn't like they could place any blocks right now, decorative blocks like beds, paintings, or flower pots being the only ones aloud

So holding onto weapons right now wasn't doing anything other than stressing themselves, Jimmy and Scar knew this better than anyone

Lizzie seemed to pick up on the mounting anxiety too

"Alright Scar, you can get my bed, go to sleep"

"Nono! Lizzie, it's fine I don't need to-"

"I am very tired mister, so go to sleep before I move from here"

"But I don't want to moooveeee~"

"Scar, buddy, just get the bed before she changes her mind"

"Jeese, ok mom! I'm going"

"This is not limited life! And I'm not Cleo, you are not my favorite!"

"Gasp! Does it mean I AM your favorite" Jimmy squeaked

"haha you dream"

Jimmy and Lizzie kept laughing, to the faraway sound of Scar settling into Lizzie's bed

She was the only one in the team to have a bed, refusing to sleep on the ground like the other two

Usually, they didn't mind it but on days like this, a comfy bed was always appreciated

In the distance, Joel and Gem were arguing about something

"What in the world are those two doing?"

"Who?"

"Joel and Gem, She's holding his snail for some reason- and now she's running away with it"

"Oh, I can see them! why is she running with Joel's snail- ohn she's running after him now"

"Is that a sword? isn't damage off?"

"I married an idiot."

Jimmy broke down laughing

"haha, beautiful man he is!"

"Hands off he's MY idiot"

"can't we share?"

"you wish"

The canary hybrid jumped to his feet

"Kinda wants to see what they're up to now, wanna join?"

"Nah, I'll sleep here"

"suit yourself"

As Jimmy made his way down the hill he made a mental note to get some wool to make a bed for Lizzie, she didn't want to admit it but she would have liked sleeping in a bed more than the floor, anyone would

"Gem, just put down the bloody snail!"

Ah, he seemed to have arrived

"Hey guys, we've been watching you two skipping 'round for a while now, what's going on?"

Jimmy casually pointed to where Lizzie's silhouette was still lying on the grass

"Jimmy! help me this woman is crazy" Joel shrieked, using the avian as a human shield against a girl even smaller than him

"Don't listen to him, Jimmy! He keeps hitting his poor snail so I'm protecting it, look at this little face how could you want to hurt them!"

Gem hugged the snail as if it was a very strange cat

"Hurting a snail? crazy, couldn't be me" Jimmy lied

"Right!?" Gem smiled "Anyway what are you doing here?"

"Just curious, by the way, can we borrow some wool? I wanted to make a bed for Lizzie"

"Well if it's for Lizzie" Joel immediately made his way the moment his wife was mentioned

"Would you spare some wool for a fellow bad boy too?~"

"Not after yah blew up my bloody car, JIMMY!"

"Don't mind him, but if you mess with our base again I WILL kill you, understood?"

"loud a clear!" Jimmy saluted before getting a hand full of wool thrown in his face

"Now scram boy, before I change my mind"

"Yup, got it! Bye, babe!"

He heard Gem sight on his way back but the mission was a success, he made a bed on his way there dyeing it magenta with the closest flowers on hand

5 wool blocks are enough for only one bed, turns out Joel's did have some wool for a fellow bad boy but not enough to not be petty

"Hey Lizzie" the canary hybrid whispered

"mhhh wha' ?"

"Joel gave me some wool, let get you to bed"

"Don't wanna move~"

With a chuckle, Jimmy picked her up and made his way up the hill

Once at the base, he placed the bed a few blocks away from where Scar was throwing his sheets around in his sleep

" 'immy?"

"Yeah, Liz?"

"sleep?"

The avian pulled the cover over the half-sleeping girl and moved on to tucking the human hurricane

"Yeah, I'll go to sleep soon"

this seemed enough for her and she was out like a light, Once all his Bamboozlers were tucked in all comfy Jimmy made his way back down

He wasn't tired

That was a lie, he was exhausted

But he simply couldn't sleep, it was always like that during days like this, when everything went so terribly wrong that it felt like death had her hands around his neck, laughing as he chocked on hair

The faraway echoes of the voices cheering "The canary is back", "the curse!", "give us angst", "give us blood!"

Most people on the server don't hear them, but they can feel their eyes, the watchers Martyn calls them, like some kind of omnipotent deity

like those things in Evo

Jimmy but the things in Evo had power, not them

those are weaker, louder, ever-present, they were here in empires, Hermitcraft even his solo world

chat, he called them or the viewers

It's less cool, less powerful, more casual but it fits

Once you get used to the entire, 'disembodied voice' thing they don't seem so different from a normal human

Sometimes Jimmy likes to talk to them like some rowdy kids in a classroom and it works strangely well

he doesn't bother correcting their comments about curses and death, he's the one who died stupidly after all

if they having fun then it's fine by him

"Jimmy?"

The avian squawked in surprise

"Holly molly! Etho you scared the life out of me!"

"What are you doing next to my base?"

"Oh, just walking 'round, getting some fresh air you know"

Etho raised an eyebrow

"Aaaalright, Tango's in his base, or what's left of it if you were looking for-"

"oh no no! I was really just stretching my legs you know"

"Suuurrreee"

"I am!"

"Ok men, just don't stay awake for too long"

"I won't, good night Etho"

"Good night, don't let the snails bite"

"Ha. ha."

Etho chuckled and stepped back into his base

Well he wasn't planning on doing it but might as well, he's already here anyway

"Hey, rancher!"

"BJFIEDPRFAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaa!!!!! W- What?! Jimmy?"

"Can people get some shut-eye here!"

"Sorry Bdubs!" "what are you doing here?"

Jimmy sat on the floor of the chared house next to the Blaze-born

"Couldn't sleep so I was just walking around, and you?"

"trying to sleep" Tango spat tiredly, rolling himself in a ball

"you can sleep like that?"

"After a day like that I could sleep anywhere, buddy"

"haha. Yeah, what a day"

"had it pretty rough today, didn't cha?"

"At least I'm on yellow"

"T'is weird for you to be on more lives than me"

"w- wa- hey!"

Tango laughed, body shaking from something other than the cold for the first time since the start of the conversation

The canary pulled the wool from his inventory and pulled on it, roughly shaping it

"What'chu doing ther- wha!"

"It's a blanket, for you"

"it doesn't look anywhere close to a blanket, and I don't need it"

"oh shush you, the way it's going you're going to shake hard enough to bring your house down is what's gonna happen"

"And who's fault is that?"

"Not mine!"

"Your buddy burned my dang house! again!"

"you killed our cows!"

"nah"

"What d'you mean 'nah'??!"

"Did not"

"Did to"

"nope"

"Who then???"

"not telling yah"

"gosh-"

Tango went back to laughing, Despite his initial complaint he still kept the makeshift blanket on, burrowing further in it

You'd think a guy whose whole schtick was being a fire being would be at least a little resistant to cold, turns out he got cold even more easily than humans

"Welp! gonna leave you"

"Huh, where are going?"

"dn't know"

"Not gonna sleep?"

He wasn't going to sleep he knew it, despite telling everyone the contrary, he just couldn't

apparently, the silence spoke for itself, Tango continued

"wanna stay here a little?"

"huh?"

"I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight so I'd like a buddy to talk to, if you want"

"...yeah, yeah sure!"

They stayed talking about the chaos in their team and the snails and everything in general, after some point the exhaustion started to lay heavy on both of them

"Sorry about earlier"

" 'bout what?"

" gave you a spook when I burned that rollercoaster didn't I?"

"I mean yeah, but it's fine"

"you sure?"

"yeah, it's just a little fire, always happened in this game, we got worst"

"heh true"

As if this was the only thing holding him awake Tango fell asleep on the spot, leaving Jimmy to keep him from plummeting head-first on the floor

little voices whispered somewhere "aww cute", " ranchers! ranchers!", "drop him!"

"Oh hush all of you!"

Looking down at the sleeping blaze-born, the avian realized he couldn't move without waking him up.

Yelp, guess he was spending the night here, Lizzie and Scar are not gonna be happy tomorrow, but that's a problem for tomorrow Jimmy

For now, he was going to look at the stars through a roofless building and wait the night out with the human embodiment of a heated blanket

The next day they would wake up to Etho's chuckles and Bdubs loud questioning

Lizzie and Scar would fake-dramatize Jimmy abandoning them to flirt around

And the viewers would spend the entire day screeching about it

But for now, he was warm, comfortable, he could finally feel his eyes getting heavy,

it felt good and it was all that mattered

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Syd is the pattern breaker

Which is great news in terms of Sydcarmy ENDGAME.

It's not like we all, Sydcarmy truthers, haven't seen that one coming. Of course, we have always known this lady came to turn it all around in Carmy's world from the very get-go, it was always painfully obvious.

BUT

Here is another pattern that she has come to erase from the life of Carmy (and the show)

(He's fighting it like a champ, I must say)

Storer likes strong women who take charge and take the initiative to go after the men they love so the man doesn’t have to (in fiction, IDK about his real life). The guy is the one who gets to decide whether he accepts her advances or innuendos and responds to them, but he doesn’t really take the first step; she does.

Refer to my napkins theory (handkerchief section) please.

Exhibit A: Jess

Jess made it clear she was into Richie in 2x7. Also, at Syd's party. She is up for it and made it clear, even when Richie has not picked up her handkerchief yet.

I don't know about Tiff, nor do I care

Exhibit B: The C person

He created the C person and I will not elaborate on that one. Fuck her!

Exhibit C: Sugar

He created Sugar who is clearly the one who wears the pants in the relationship, and taking into account Pete’s personality, was probably the one who was all over him from day 1, and he was just like: “Yeah Nat, whatever you say, you’re so great, ILY.”

Exhibit D: Tina

He created Tina, same energy as Nat but her husband is no Pete, so I’m not sure about how her relationship with her husband began, I can only safely assume she always speaks her mind. So I’m sure she was open about her feelings when she met her husband, no riddles.

Exhibit E: Donna

He created Donna and same, there’s no version of the story where Donna was ever shy or quiet and not open, if not too open, about her feelings when she met Carmy’s dad (like you know who: the C person) and that’s probably why they got together to begin with and also one of the reasons why he left her eventually. She’s overwhelmingly vocal about how she feels for ppl because the excessive booze removes any social boundaries and barriers and she’s always ready to shout it in everyone’s face. That’s changing though. But that's how she was written into existence by Storer, to begin with.

The game changer → Sydney Adamu

So, that takes us to Syd who never openly flirted with Carmy, unless we count Pasta 2x2 (which I don’t).

And never really read the awkward signs he was trying to give her (which I hate but totally understand because they are business partners and she's a professional).

And so… we have a pattern breaker here. That in Storer’s book means MEAT.

We've reached the meat of the matter, chefs! YAY!

So, there are about a zillion foreshadowing leads we could analyze of how that game change in terms of the female role in the courtship dynamic will play out SOON, Storer wasn't precisely slick throughout the series, but the most obvious and recent one was brought to us hidden in plain sight, in S3 -3x5- and I already went over it here (my own RB notes from 7/27):

The point is that as the post it says: "ALL QUESTIONS ASK SYDNEY!"

That means that dynamic will have to be reversed for Sydcarmy to happen, CARMY WILL HAVE TO POP THE QUESTION. LOL!

No, not that question. Well... maybe eventually, but I'm actually talking about the CONFESSION and asking her out, asking her out on a date or something and I don't mean a symbolic date like the fucking funeral he completely ignored her at and where he then ditched her too. I'm talking about really and openly telling her how he feels for her, and exposing himself to her rejection. Not the other way around.

She has to enable this, of course, so in a sense, she will have to break her patterns for Carmy too, because love is an act of mirroring, as we all know by now.

But it´s Carmy who will have to grow a pair and put into words what has remained unspoken between them and is starting to decay inside -and it's ruining their whole relationship-. He will have to turn the dynamic around and take the role that Storer usually puts "strong women" in, and open up and go after who he wants. He will have to be the strong one and say it out loud. ASK ALL THE QUESTIONS because Syd has all the answers and her answers are the game changers of the show.

I wish it went like this (let's imagine Tanner is either Shapiro or Luca):

Fun fact: Demian Lewis said that he characterized Bobby Axelrod by playing him like a wild animal, tapping into that energy and bringing in it on set every day to play his scenes. He didn't say the beast was a bear though.

Bonus track: Ayo Edebiri. Ayo´s pattern is to be the pattern breaker of the plot. The → plot twist.

Ayo always plays the game-changer character. In Omni Loop, she did too, I'm sure her next movie with Luca Guadagnino will be the same thing. She is drawn to that type of characters and plays them beautifully.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs💋

[illarian-rambling]

Thank you everyone who participated in...

Illaros Illuminated: Mortal God Edition!

Below you will find Astra, Mashal, Ivander, Elsind, and Avymere answering the questions you all have so kindly sent in. Buckle up, as I'm sure it's going to be quite the ride ;)

Thanks again!

[The camera pans in on a smartly decorated studio where several people sit in comfortable seats and lounge on couches. Astra DuClaire, a human woman with vitiligo and a richly embroidered, circus-looking coat, whispers into the ear of Mashal Darezsho, a large bronze and steel robot wearing baggy clothes and looking anxiously at the camera. Ivander Montane, a blue-skinned man in an expensive suit, sips distractedly on a cup of coffee. Elsind Cavernsight, a somewhat alarming creature with damp mauve skin and a featureless face ringed by five fleshy petals, does their best to keep up a professional posture. Avymere Spearsong, a pale, white-haired elf wearing glasses and a breathing mask, does the same in a far more effortless manner]

Interviewer: "Welcome back, folks, to our second installment of Illaros Illuminated! Today we have in the studio the... well, I wouldn't call them heroes, but they've certainly saved the world a lot of trouble. Everyone give a hand to the cast for Mortal God!"

Immediately, Ivander side-eyes Avymere and Elsind to a catastrophic degree, mouthing into the camera, "I don't know them." Right as he does, Elsind makes a face that conveys the exact same emotion.

Interviewer: "Right! So, our first question comes to us from @melpomene-grey. For the whole cast, but Elsind specifically: What are the top three happiest moments of your life?"

"Wait, me specifically? Why me specifically?" Elsind's headfins do an odd sort of ripple motion as they turn to Avymere. They whisper to the elf behind their hand, "Why me specifically?" "You have a fan, it seems," Avymere replies without missing a beat. They seem thoroughly nonplussed by the whole experience thus far. "Oh!" Elsind's headfins go purple as they blush. "Wow, okay, I think my top three happiest moments.... Uh...." Astra rubs her temple with a harrowed expression. "Ace, we've gotta get you into therapy or somethin'." "I'm getting there!" Elsind crosses their arms, thinking a moment longer. "Okay, my happiest moment was probably pulling off my first mission for the Salis Legion of the People. It was the first time where I really felt I belonged - like I was making a difference. Second happiest was.... Okay, this isn't really one single memory, but all the times my mom would read to me when I was little. I just felt so safe, and even though I already knew the world was dangerous, nothing could make it past my mom back then. My third happiest memory was when I finally got my hands on The Ravishing War: A Dance of Passion and Fire box set." Mashal's brow furrows. "A what of what and what?" "The fifth book was a little slow for my taste," Ivander adds, not glancing up from examining his nails. Avymere pats Elsind's hand as their headfins droop a bit. "Your mother sounds like a lovely woman." "She is." Elsind's face melts a bit in their version of a nostalgic smile. "Anways, fan favorite over here went, it's your turn now, Trauma Number Two." Astra points with her chin over at Ivander. "Start spittin'; what's your top three memories?" Ivander gives a bitter scowl. "Cheesy rice, righteous embezzlement, and about two seconds before the worst memory of my life." "Context?" Astra raises an eyebrow. "No." "Damn. Regardless," Astra continues with a wave of her hands, "my top three're buildin' the Extraordinaire, meetin' Mashal - 'pologies to the rest a' ya - and givin' that eikorodo to my folks so they could pay off their contracts. That last one is probably the thing I'm proudest of overall in my life." Mashal smiles and though metal can't blush, the feeling is there. Off to the side, Ivander rolls his eyes, though the gesture doesn't have its usual venom.

"I only remember, like.... Oh gods, like three months of things in general." Mashal winces. "But probably my favorite three memories are when Astra gave me a new face, when I learned there was a way to get my body back, and, uh...." "You can lie, love," Astra whispers under her breath. "And I don't remember," Mashal says loudly, only to cringe. "Fucking fit for the stage, I am.... Fine, fighting Vermir. That's one of my favorite memories. I'm not proud of how the violence made me feel so content, but there it is." "Naw, that bitch deserved it," Astra grunts. "Agreed." Ivander itches at his solar plexus with a bitter expression. "Seconded," Avymere echoes. As all eyes turn to them, they straighten their cravat with a huff. "Fine, I suppose I'll take my turn under the spotlight. My favorite memories are my father taking me to my first martial arts competition, preventing the assassination and usurpation of Queen Silverwind, and finally realizing that I was capable enough to truly begin assisting my father in the running of our city." Astra and Elsind exchange a fraught and somewhat guilty glance. "You have a good relationship with your father?" Ivander asks, his eyes keen with curiosity. Avymere nods. "He raised me alone. We were always very close." "Must be nice." Ivander huffs a bitter laugh, but says nothing more.

Interviewer: "Damn, you people can yap. Anyways, our next question comes to us from @mk-writes-stuff: What is a small thing you wish existed that would improve your life a lot?"

"Easy - some way to tune in to music constantly so I don't just gotta wait for whatever they've got playin' down at the Yewbury Concert Hall." Astra flicks her earring with its many audio runes. "Somethin' a little louder to listen in on would do nicely as well." Avymere raises an eyebrow. "Like a portable gramophone of some sort?" "Pre-fuckin'-cisely." Astra sighs longingly. "A little music in the wee hours a' the mornin', at a bit more of a danceable volume - is that too much to ask?" "Yes," Mashal deadpans. The tiredness in his glass-lens eyes is palpable. "I would rather enjoy a way to know someone's location exactly," Avymere says. "Yes, there are tracking runes, but those are bulky and hard to maintain. I suppose a more streamlined tracking rune is all I'm asking for. It'd save me so much hassle." "I don't think I know you well enough for that to be anything except worrying," Ivander mutters under his breath. "I'd want some way to sleep," Mashal pipes up. "Not that I don't enjoy brass band jazz at one in the morning, but I also just really want to take a nap. Even if my body can't get tired, my brain definitely can. I just want a way to, I don't know, power off for a little while. Actually power off - not get stuck without my senses in a little black box until I start hallucinating." "Ditto." Ivander stretches with a wince. "Some quality, uninterrupted sleep - that's all I want. One of those levitation runes would be nice, like the one you gave me on Laben, Astra." Astra raises an eyebrow. "I can make ya another one, you know that, right?" "Really?!" Astra gives him a thumbs up. "We'll chat after the show." "I'd want some kind of minor telekinesis." Elsind leans back on the couch, melting into a more comfortable position. "Tell me this; have you guys ever been curled up in bed with a good book, but then suddenly, you get really hungry? You don't wanna get up because it's cold and you're really comfy, so wouldn't it just be nice if you could float a snack over into your hand?" Ivander nods in appreciation. "That's a good one, I must say." "Or you could get up and get a snack." Avymere's mouth twists in confusion. "It's not that hard. You could ask a servant." "Gods a'mighty, bright, and beyond...." Astra sighs. Fiddling quite obviously with the head of his cane, Ivander smiles coldly at the elven noble. "We'll chat after the show."

Interviewer: "Next up, also from @mk-writes-stuff: Also for Elsind: I hope this isn’t super insensitive of me but I’m desperately curious, is it comfortable to just go full ooze in an empty bathtub and just kinda chill there?"

Elsind brushes back their headfins, blushing. "Wow, lots of attention for me today." "Why wouldn't you be the fan favorite, though," Mashal says, "you're fantastic." Elsind blushes even more. "Oh, stop. Okay, but to answer the question: Yes, actually! I prefer to sleep in, I don't know, bowl-shaped things? Is that... Yeah, we'll go with bowl-shaped. I don't know, it's just more comfortable than a flat surface to me since I go liquid when I sleep. Bathtubs are nice, so are hammocks. A bed is also fine, but a hammock is my top choice of sleeping spot. And no, I wouldn't say that's an insensitive question."

Ivander leans back in his seat. "I heard somewhere that changelings are amphibious - is that true?" "Able to breathe on land and underwater," Avymere whispers as Elsind looks to them for clarification.

"Oh, no, I'm not. Or, I suppose I haven't tried." Elsind's tail flicks pensively. "Maybe, I am? I can't swim either way, so, wouldn't that be a little useless? Being able to breathe underwater but not able to swim?" "I think we're gettin' a little in the weeds here," Astra says. "But pick a day, pick a lake, and we'll test it out."

Interviewer: "Formatting is hard. Anyways, coming in from @wyked-ao3: What's your least favorite food?"

Mashal sighs sadly. "It was cherry pastries." Astra gives his hand a sympathetic pat. "The ones ya bake are real nice, at least, even if ya can't taste 'em. You know what ya cook even better, though? Potato stew! That's my favorite food." "Really?" Avymere's tone is dubious. "That's like... thin mashed potatoes?" "Fuckin' rich kid...," Astra mutters under her breath, though her expression is more bemused than anything. "Naw, it's... Well, ain't not thin mashed potatoes, but it's got other stuff in it. Cheese, chives, lots a' bacon. Come inside after a long day in the fields and there ain't nothin' better to find waitin' on the table. Lemme guess, your favorite is caviar?" Avymere's ears flick in slight irritation. "It's lavender scones, thank you very much. With lemon zest on top. They were a bit of a comfort food when I was young." "Aww!" Elsind presses their hands to their chest. "I bet you were a cute kid." "More like deeply off-putting and willfully obstinant," Avymere corrects. "But back to the question - what about you?" Elsind pauses in a moment of consideration. "Oh gods, what was that fruit called? There was a parcel of them we found in this raid once - some lord's resort, if I remember. They had a green rind and were about the size of a person's head. Ugh, they tasted divine!" "Honeydew," Ivander pipes up. "You must've got a perfectly ripe one. They taste like mush if you're too far in either direction." "Oh, it's even got a tasty name!" Elsind's face melts a bit in happiness. "My favorite is jevee yoy," Ivander says, sounding bored. "It's a hobgoblin dish Ceyrel introduced me to. It hurts my stomach something awful, but the taste is worth it." Astra nods. "Respect. Taste is always worth it, damn the next morning. Lots a' hot sauce, I'm guessin'?" Ivander grins slyly. "You know it." "Wait!" Elsind shouts. "They asked for least favorite!" Everyone pauses for a second before Astra shrugs. "Ah, well, bit's already done."

Interviewer: "Next up, from @seastarblue, for Astra and Avymere: How does it feel to be the coolest ones here?"

"Oh, these people have no taste," Ivander huffs. "Ay, that's what I'm fuckin' talkin' about!" Astra pumps her fist. "It feels damn good is how it feels!" "I mean, cool is relative," Mashal murmurs. "Avymere and Astra are definitely cool, though." Elsind pokes Avymere on the side of the head. The elf looks distinctly embarrassed. "Okay, you've got that right." Mashal smiles softly as he flicks Astra on the shoulder.

Interviewer: "@seastarblue again: Okay actual question: what’s y’all’s biggest pet peeve?"

"Gossips," Astra deadpans, staring straight at Ivander. "Braggarts," Ivander answers without missing a beat. "Oh good gods, you two." Mashal shakes his head. "People who get snippy. How about that? That's my pet peeve." "Liar - your pet peeve is when I play my music too loud," Astra says. Mashal makes a face. "Hm, okay, that too. Just cause you're half deaf doesn't mean you have to ruin my hearing also." "Love, ya don't have eardrums." "It's the principle of it, okay?" "People who can't whisper," Avymere says unprompted. Ivander raises an eyebrow. "Pardon?" "People who can't whisper. That's my pet peeve," Avymere clarifies. "It's inconvenient." "Ah." Ivander nods. "Hard agree." Elsind huffs a sigh. "Mine's gotta be people who don't return the money they borrow. And then call you broke for asking them to pay you back. Like they weren't the ones borrowing money." "Another hard agree." Ivander grins.

Interviewer: "Here's a stunner from @leahnardo-da-veggie: For Ivander: How do you feel about Elsind & Avymere? (And vice versa)"

"Well, they both have very relatable pet peeves," Ivander says. "And I must say, Avymere, I do find your taste in attire to be rather exquisite." "You can thank me for that," Astra mutters under her breath. Avymere straightens, dusting off their jacket. "You seem to be a well-mannered man, Mr. Montane. I can't say I know you all that closely, however, that can be remedied." Ivander raises an eyebrow. "By conversation or surveillance?" Avymere shrugs. "Both is best." An evil grin creeps up Ivander's face. "I like your style." "Anyone who's made it to book five of The Ravishing War has my respect," Elsind pipes up. "Have you checked out the author's prequel series?" Ivander's eyes flash as he glances abruptly up. "No. I didn't know there was a prequel." "It's about Captain Minthandra's rise to power," Elsind explains excitedly. "I won't spoil anything more, but suffice to say, that subtext between her and Empress Imrain is very much text." "Now, that is worth a read." Ivander's smile grows hungry. "Avymere, you've gotta read it too, we can start a book club!" Elsind exclaims excitedly. Avymere makes a face. "Give me a smut to war politics ratio." "Oh, ninety to ten," Ivander chuckles. "And those ten are mostly discussed in bed." Avymere rolls their eyes as Elsind and Ivander giggle to themselves, both looking terribly pleased.

Interviewer: "Another from the wonderfully skilled question-asker @leahnardo-da-veggie: For Astra: If you hadn't gone into book magic, what would you have done? Can you even picture yourself in a non-magic field?"

Astra blinks with a start. "If... If I hadn't gone into book magic? Why in the hell would I have done that?" "It's a hypothetical," Mashal whispers. "Well, yeah." Astra huffs, a little flustered. "If I didn't have book magic, I reckon... I reckon I woulda gone into seamstress work. I'm a dab hand at embroidery and I enjoy the design aspect." "You're good enough that I hired you," Avymere agrees. "You, working in a hoity-toity boutique?" Ivander shakes his head with a laugh. "I can't see it. You'd spit on someone before the hour was out." "Heh, probably." Astra makes a face. "I don't think I'd get the same fulfillment as I get outta magic either. Sewin' is fun, but it ain't my passion, ya know?" "Well, it's a good thing you do have magic," Elsind says. "Otherwise, we'd all be screwed." "Yeah, I doubt I'd be doin' all that runnin' around and fightin' robots with a needle and thread," Astra laughs.

Interviewer: "From @kaylinalexanderbooks: What is everyone's most embarrassing moment with each other?"

A collective groan works its way through the five of them. "Probably that time you walked in on me crying into a pillow in the Devaris mansion." Avymere sighs heavily. "Sorry about that, Elsind..." Elsind's headfins curl, giving the impression of a raised eyebrow. "Avymere, I'm going to explain this to you one more time. Your leg was broken, you'd just gotten the time to process losing the person closest to you, and you were facing the prospect of going back to rule an entire nation literally days after all of this. Crying over that isn't embarrassing - it's eminently reasonable. Me asking you why you were carrying funeral incense with you, though... That was pretty embarrassing." Avymere chuckles softly. "It was a little oblivious of you." "Mine was probably freaking out over those bugs." Mashal tugs at his collar sheepishly. "Heh, yeah, you were doin' a whole dance tryin' to get 'em off n' everything," Astra teases. "It's not like they can bite you r' nothin'." "It's the principle of it," Mashal sniffs. "And, ugh, doesn't just watching how they move freak you out? All those legs..." "Wait, you're scared of bugs?" Ivander asks, both amused and incredulous. "Yes, they give me the shivers," Mashal answers gruffly. "All bugs or just, like, spiders and stuff?" "Anything with too many legs." Mashal crosses his arms with a huff. Ivander jots something down in his pocket journal. "Duly noted." "Mine's gotta be that time I stuck myself to a wall for 'bout ten hours." Astra chuckles with a proud look on her face. "Those gravitation runes were top a' the line, even if the auxiliaries were kinda busted." "I had to feed you soup with a straw because your hands were stuck," Mashal says, shaking his head in disbelief. "I barely got the reversal rune done in time for you to not piss your pants." Astra flicks him on the arm with a grin. "Fun times, right? Alright, Ivander, you've been awful quiet. Spill." The blue-skinned man sighs heavily. "Must I? Really?" "We swore to tell the truth before we went on," Avymere says. "I'm sure it can't be that bad," Mashal encourages. "Ugh, fine." Ivander crosses his arms. "I was fifteen. I wanted to get really ripped, you know?" Astra nods. "As fifteen-year-olds do." "So I asked my bodyguard for some workout tips, and he gave me a whole list of stuff, only half of it I understood. The first night of my 'fitness project,' I decided to start with sit-ups. Because I was a cocky shit, despite never having so much as run a mile or done a push-up in my life, I grabbed a heavy book to use as extra weight since I thought a regular sit-up would be too easy. That night, I stripped off my shirt, sat down, and promptly dropped the book on my chest hard enough to dislocate a rib." Astra stifles a laugh, while Elsind and Mashal wince in tandem. "My scream brought my uncle and about three maids running," Ivander continues, his face having gone a touch purple. "I had to explain what happened to the doctor. My poor bodyguard got fired and I never touched sit-ups again. Not to mention I overheard the youngest maid, who I always thought was sort of cute, talking to one of her friends about how my nipples are a particular shade of indigo." There's a pause before Astra asks, "Well, are they?" Ivander shoots her a dirty look, but doesn't refute the statement.

Interviewer: "Continuing with questions from @kaylinalexanderbooks: What is one topic that you could give an impromptu speech about for an hour?"

Astra snorts in amusement. "What couldn't I talk about for an hour? I could talk about a godsdamned history of orcish textiles for an hour!" Avymere raises an eyebrow. "Do you know anything about orcish textiles?" "No, I just like to lie," Astra replies. "Okay, but what would your actual speech be on?" Elsind asks. "Easy - necessary educational reforms the Skolan schoolin' system needs to make if they wanna have a functional workin' populace in the comin' decade. Next!" "I could definitely talk about workplace drama for an hour," Ivander admits. "Okay, probably longer. Saldana in accounting and Resha in corrections have been in the process of getting a divorce for two years now and I know way too many details." Avymere raises an eyebrow. "I think you'd enjoy some of my stories from the court of Salis. I could talk for an hour simply on what I've found in nobles' sock drawers." "Books, that's mine," Elsind adds. "I love giving people book recommendations. I swear I've got like a psychic feel for it!" Mashal rubs the back of his head. "I'm not sure if I could talk for an hour period. Maybe comparing styles of horse training? Or art? I could probably talk about art for an hour." "We can do a double-talk about the influence of runes on art!" Astra says excitedly. Ivander raises an eyebrow. "That's a thing?" "Oh, we chat about it all the time, it's really cool." Mashal grows more animated as he continues. "So, it kinda goes back to one of the founders of the Republic, Cardor Dular. He was this renowned book mage, but he was also close with another of the founding generals, Agita N'Jogu. Historically, the N'Jogu family had this tradition-"

Interviewer: "Okay, home stretch! Here's the first of three questions from @rumeysawrites: To Astra and Mashal: What made you realize you liked each other?"

Astra cocks her head. "But I've always liked 'im?" "Like, romantically," Masha whispers behind his hand. "When did we realize we liked the other romantically." "Oh! That makes more sense." Astra pulls Mashal close and kisses him on the cheek, causing his glowing eyes to jump in brightness. "Like a dumbass, I realized right when you admitted ya had feelins' for me. I reckon... I reckon I probably loved ya for a while before that, but I'd never been in a serious relationship before - hell, I ain't even had that many friends - so I didn't recognize the feelin' til you put a name to it." Though it's physically impossible, as they lack anatomy, the impression of hearts in Elsind's eyes is undeniable as they smile proudly. "I, well, I think I realized I liked you all the way back in Salis," Mashal admits. "Something about the way you smiled, the way you'd swooped in to rescue me when I'd been working to rescue you, just made my heart feel warm for once." Avymere raises an eyebrow. "Back in Salis when I was actively trying to kill you?" Mashal nods, a dreamy expression on his face. "Yeah.... Anyways, I have to give Elsind some credit for being the one to actually talk me into admitting my feelings. Insecurity's a bitch, especially when your body has been quite literally stolen away and replaced with a solid ton of unfeeling steel." Elsind bows lightly. "I am but a humble romance enthusiast. All I did was give a pep talk and set up some flowers." Ivander shakes his head in wonder. "Damn, now that's something I wish I could've seen. I always thought you two would make a good couple, you know?" "I thought you were both gay, if I'm being honest," Avymere admits. "Bit of a shock, really...." "I mean, back in the army-" Mashal abruptly cuts off. "Nevermind, actually." "I kinda thought I might be too, but naw, I'm just slow to romance and my one other stint happened to be with a lady," Astra says. Avymere sighs in relief. "Oh, that makes so much more sense."

Interviewer: "Okay, here's our second from @rumeysawrites: For Elsind: What's the most negative thing you've ever said about someone?"

"I tried to murder Avymere's father." Elsind stares directly into the camera. "I was a soldier in an organization accused of terrorism and violent uprising. I kidnapped people and stole their identities on multiple occasions." "Answer the question, ace," Astra prompts with a grin. "The backwards spawn of a goat's rotting cunt!" Elsind exclaims. "Just because I try to be positive and kind to everyone doesn't mean I don't know swear words!" Ivander lets out a low whistle and jots another note in his journal. Avymere blinks in surprise. "Whoever warranted that?" "It's okay to let your anger out sometimes," Mashal reassures. "I'm sure whoever it was deserved it." "Parking cop," Elsind mutters. "The cart I was using to transport other rebels into Salis got ticketed while I was out for five minutes. It'd been... a long day." Astra chuckles under her breath. "I knew ya had it in you."

Interviewer: "And lastly, from @rumeysawrites: What is everyone's most fun memory with the others?"

"I don't know if I've ever had fun with any of you," Ivander says without missing a beat. "Oh, come on, camping on Laben was kinda fun." Astra grins as she pokes him lightly on the shoulder. "I mean, it was creepy as shit, but I got to watch you eat pocket jerky for the first time." "Okay, fine, playing cards while Mashal was out was entertaining," Ivander admits. "Astra, I'll never forget going to a concert hall for the first time with you," Mashal says with a smile. "Music is so much bigger in person." Elsind and Avymere exchange a glance. "Okay, hear me out-" Elsind starts. Avymere makes a face. "I don't want to" "-but I thought traveling to the Sarytas was a lot of fun." "I was hiding in a suitcase during the day for a week!" Avymere exclaims. "And we got to hang out at nights!" Elsind counters. "It was like a big extended slumber party." "Except we were facing death at every moment and, again, I was hiding in a suitcase for hours at a time every day. Do you know how badly my back hurt?" Elsind makes an exaggerated sad face. "Weren't our chats fun, though?" Avymere hesitates before answering with a sigh. "...Yes, they were fun."

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

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[shepherds-of-haven]

hey, this is the anon who sent in the ask about loving the idea of a red - mc - briony triangle lol! you asked what i'm intrigued by so here it is (sorry if i'm butchering your characters with this, maybe it only works with my own mc and the vibes in my head)

it's a couple different things. first, i feel like the safety of that relationship would be unbelievable. the trust and genuine love would be insane. red and briony are both such compassionate and empathetic people and in that triad any one of them would have a soft place to land with the other two. so many steadying conversations and so much quiet comfort when it's needed, distractions (especially from briony lol) from difficult feelings or situations when it's needed. just the idea that, as fun and lighthearted as that relationship would be, there's always that undercurrent of deep deep understanding and unconditional space held. yeah

and god that relationship just seems like it Would be so fun and they would all so obviously adore each other....it could get to the point of being almost annoying for the other shepherds if it wasn't also so sweet lol. can't imagine them trying to rub it in anyone's faces at all but it would be SO heartbreaking for all those secret admirers to watch briony light up at the sight of red or mc and go bounding off to them across the courtyard, or to hear the way red can't seem to finish an entire thought out loud without managing to work some aside about one or both of mc and briony into it. (feeling like the relationship gets completely outed when a recruit heading down to the kitchens for a snack in the early morning catches briony and red coming out of mc's room. at the same time.)

i also think i just love the sort of natural push and pull that relationship would probably have to involve??? you've got briony there as a force for justice and assertiveness when it's necessary, when red tries valiantly to make conversation work in a situation where it simply won't, or when mc allows an insult to slide for the sake of maintaining professionalism. but red (and mc, depending on who exactly they are lmao) would also be able to curb the worst excesses of that and make sure she doesn't tip over into recklessness. and then briony and mc could immediately help pump the brakes on the more self-destructive tendencies red has, especially when it comes to his research- there are two people there who are perceptive enough to know whether or not he's eating, who can persuade him to come to bed instead of falling asleep at his desk (and who put blankets over his shoulders and pillows under his head on the nights he doesn't quite make it there). and of course, bigger picture, briony and mc (at least mien lol) would be knowledagble enough about magic and concerned enough about red's experiments w the worldwalkers to keep an eye out and who would notice, intervene, and have a serious conversation with him if his drive started to go down a dark or dangerous path. mc's trickier lol but at least in my little world with my mc, he really trusts both of them with some of his most private thoughts re: his fear of what's coming and his worries about failure, letting everyone down up to and including the gods, his past, etc.- they're people who are steadfastly loyal, and for mcs who would need space to talk about their anxieties they seem like they would be so safe, willing to challenge things that don't sound right or border on self-sacrificial but also gentle when they do it....i just think they would all bring out the best in each other, while also helping each other avoid the pitfalls of the most passionate (but consuming) parts of themselves. the stuff that's good in moderation but can get scary when it's too far

i could actually write a dissertation on this lmao i started typing and just kept realizing i had more to say. thank you SO SO MUCH for characters that are this fascinating and fun to imagine lol, i hope this wasn’t too much!!

Ahhhh thanks so much for sharing!!! I absolutely love reading thoughts like this, I think you're absolutely spot on with the characters and how a poly relationship between them would go! :) This was lovely, thanks so much for the fun read! 💖

[phoenixyfriend]

#ive never been to a wedding thst lets people smoke#and a lot of them have been outdoors #and tbh ive only really been to family weddings and not offering drinks there would be so staggeringly rude

The weddings I've been to in Serbia have been fully indoor smoking at the reception, including the one where the bride was five months pregnant, and not herself a smoker. If you want non-smoky air, you have to go outside, and the smoke still floats out to the balcony and such.

#but i do encourage op to consider is a minute before telling people you dont like it when they drink#cos family can take that sort of feedback#but if a friend of mine said they found me annoying and tiresome when i drink#like i would just stop inviting them to join me when im going to drink#cos thats a vulcanerable state and im trying to be relaxed and in a safe space#and theres one guy here adding stress and judgement to an otherwise pleasant atmosphere#you dont have to drink obvs#but don't be a dick about it

Generally people don't invite me to drink unless they plan to max out at one drink. Every time I've been invited to something like a nightclub, I have been utterly miserable. I do in fact ask people 'hey, is this a drinking thing?' when they invite me to evening events, and if it is, I decline to go. I will drink one thing to be social, though I'll probably nurse it all night, but that is my limit.

Please don't assume I'm being a dick for no reason? I am not complaining about how people drink ever, I am complaining about how people try to force me to support drinking culture, or force me to drink.

Was talking about weddings on discord with some friends and like. I'm not getting married. I don't even have a partner. But my cousin got married a year and a half ago, and some of the conversations I had afterwards were very odd, to me.

Scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if someone mentioned their wedding would have a dry reception? Not for 'former alcoholic' reasons or anything, just 'I don't like alcohol and I really don't want to have to deal with drunk people at my own wedding.' People always get weirdly angry when I mention I like the idea of a dry wedding/reception.

Related, would you be upset if an outdoor reception required smokers to go to a designated area when lighting up?