#these questions & more will not be answered. thank you for your time
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glypt0don · 18 hours ago
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So, this is quite a rant. You can skip to the bottom, if you want to know my opinion but don't want to read that much... But I worked hard on it and I think it's important, so it would make me very happy if you read through the whole text.
So this fits into something I wanted to post about anyway: a broader theme of why do we frame things as wars? Like, why is it culture war, specifically. First I liked the concept, I thought it described something quite complicated reasonably easily. But I pondered on it a bit more and I think there's more going on.
It's pretty trivial, that most societies went through a huge change over the last half century. It's not just feminism. I could make a whole list of things we as a people took on. Anti-racism and civil rights, religious acceptance, global trade, reinterpreting the meaning of peace, connecting the word through the world-wide web, etc. We ( or, as I am barely an adult and have no idea how to change things for the better, I should say you, or maybe chat) decided it was time for change, so change came. You brought it about.
And I agree. Change WAS and IS necessary. What that change should entail, well, we all have our ideas, right? And they have the ugly tendency to differ from each other. The question then is, how do we coincide our contradictory ideas on society? The answer is both worrying and very important.
To be fair, our race doesn't have a great track record on solving these kinds of issues. I dug into my historical knowledge, since, you know, those who don't learn from it, repeat it... The only thing I can compare to what's happening today would be the Reformation (which probably says a lot about my historical knowledge). That's the only time I know, where societal assumptions were altered so much in such a short time. That time it was specifically about the Catholic church (if you don't know, what I'm talking about, you really should, so Google it), and the result was a series of wars, that ultimately may have wiped out about a fifth of Europes population. The wars were of course led by powerful men, who capitalised on the divide to further their own goals.
As back then, now too, we can't rely on institutions to tame the public. Many media and political identities have a direct interest in polarising society. Because that's what happens. All these contentious issues about gender, class, or foreign policy become dividing lines between folks who are supposed to be parts of the same whole (call it community, state, nation or humanity, depending on how wide you can think). You know, how it works, probably saw it a few times, whatever your interests are. It's literally everywhere! We fight it out with the perceived enemy of the week sometimes, when there is an election, something notable happens, or it's simply Pride Month. Then everyone goes back to their respective corners, where they vehemently agree with themselves. We don't talk a lot, just throw words at each other, like Buggs Bunny, playing tennis with a dynamite.
I should say, this post is a notable and refreshing outlier. Thanks, @trans-androgyne , for starting a discussion for a change!
I know, it's a bit like nuclear armament. You can't just stop, because THEY won't, and then they win, and you can't allow that. It's life and death! And I don't have some magic pill to make it all go right, or believe me, I wouldn't sit here, typing this out at 3 in the morning Central European Time. But let me propose this: don't call it a war! Neither culture war, nor gender war, nor anything like that. Because this isn't a war. Just ask anyone in the middle east! They can tell you, what is war, and THIS IS NOT IT! And also, because it may not be guns and destruction yet, but nothing guarantees, that it stays that way. We already had multiple attempted takeovers of capital buildings since this cursed decade began, because our social reality became so fragmented, that you can't accept the results of a popular election anymore. That should raise alarm bells. I know it does, but it can be much worse! Learn from history, do not repeat it! Hit the Wiki page on the Huguenot war! On the siege of Magdeburg. Or, if that's not your cup of tea, watch Civil War! I genuinely think it's the best movie of the year.
Call it Social Discourse! That sounds much more manageable, doesn't it? Or you can come up with something else, as long as it isn't some warmongering bullshit. And maybe the next time you meet someone with sexist, homophobic, racist, or maybe radical left and anarchistic views (whatever you're opposing), don't attack them with your words! Those aren't weapons. Try to talk to them instead! Try talking about feelings! Listen to theirs, make them understand yours! I say feelings, because you both have those. Try finding a common ground, however small, and build up from there. Like Minecraft Skyblock. It can be hard in a challenging way, instead of making you want to shoot yourself in the head. Remember, you aren't fighting a war. You are having a discourse.
All of it is to say, the world and society are changing, wether you like it or not, and we have to change with it, to survive. That is the simple fact. If you call that change a war, that's just gonna make the whole thing unnecessarily painful for everyone involved.
This was sociopolitical advice from a giant armadillo.
Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?
That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.
Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.
Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.
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kyri45 · 1 day ago
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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 21/11✨
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Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hi! Would Macaque kidnap Wukong again? I read your comic, the last page, where Macaque is the kidnapping expert. And I'm very curious about it. Anyway, I love your comics! You are awesome.
Haha I don't think they really need it unless they want to do a "traditional wedding courtnapping" but it would be pretty odd since they kind of already live togehter.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I know this is definitely a LONG ways away, but, imagine: Wukong and Macaque playing the newlyweds game. What questions? What answers? Who’s asking the questions? Who’s getting the most right?
I wont list all the lesson but I think Macaque would get most of them right just because Wukong never really changed a lot during the years, while Macaque went through different stages of his life, and and he has new hobbies and tastes.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will mk have a nightmare about LBD? If yes Then we will have some angst with fluffy monkeys family moments!!!
Oh he has. He has many. Most of them he has while he is at pigsy's.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Can you please shows up a flashback backstory on how MK/Wukong discovered/found out/came out as trans?? 🙏🙏🙏 Banana sundae with chocolate sauce, rainbow sprinkles, THREE cherries, and a super-deluxe one-and-only Monkie King™️ collectible spoon???
Anonimo ha chiesto: will we see any past Shadowpeach?? I’m interested to see how you frame their dynamic back 5en.
Hahah maybe in the future, I'll see
Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we get Wukong telling dad jokes? Please, I’m begging i want to see MK laughing and Macaque just being so disappointed with Wukong yet so smitten. I want to see more Monkey family domestic blissss. 🙏🙏🙏🙏
I don't have my dad jokes book here but man give Macaque an award for the patience he has with these two children
@goofybearclown ha chiesto: Hi :3 Just wanted to say I love your shadowpeach and cotl AU!!! I didn't notice you made both at first but when I did I was like "waow :0". Tbh your works are in my top 3 series on Tumblr! @fenikzia ha chiesto: I love your LMK comic so much, I look forward to reading the new additions to it when they come out every other day,and reading your comic just makes my day better. Even if it hasn't updated a particular day, I make sure to go back and reread the newest part.Keep doing what you're doing and make sure to take breaks! @skye-minecraftyt-blog ha chiesto: You! I like you! Your Bio parents Lmk au always makes me extremely happy and I regularly reread it. ((o(^∇^)o)) Just wanted to say it @blazeandsilver ha chiesto: Hello, I just wanted to say your artwork is absolutely stunning, it makes my day whenever I see that you posted something new to the BioParents comic. Please keep up the good work and be sure to take some time for yourself, you’re important too.
AWWWWWW THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE!!
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hihi shadowpeach au question: You mentioned in the latest comic that Mac is more lean and skinny than Wukong. Will we ever see the full extent of that?? ALSO I ADORE YOUR ART OMG ❤️❤️
A fully naked Macaque you say? Maybe.... who knows....
Anonimo ha chiesto: I come to defend Wukong acting like a man looking at a victorian lady ankles, he hasn’t seen his (ex) husband’s fur in centuries. And he probably hasn’t socialize in years either besides MK and the gang. Romantically he is stunned right? I doubt he has even looked at anyone besides Macaque anyways…
Honestly I like to think that Macaque was the only being in all the universe that was eer able to make him flustered
@mochalikesdrawing ha chiesto: So I got a question, will we ever get to see kaiju MK again?
I have a scene post AU I would like to draw. Maybe.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Ignoring all the angst because it is crushing my soul /pos, I'm lowkey convinced that Macaque knows Wukong feels some kind of way about him because he can hear his heartbeat go crazy at certain moments and isn't dumb, but just isn't calling Wukong on it because he's still trying to sort his own feelings first. BUT ONCE HE DOES OH BOY-
Hahah Macaque knows perfectly well Wukong is down for him. In the meantime Wukong is alwasy afraid he's just imagining things bc he's dense af.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you think Wukong and macaque would be cuddling and macaque would be watching something scary and Wukong would be trying to not pay attention to it because he hates scary stuff or would it be the other way around?
yess
@ep2nd ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach bio parents au, if MK and Wukong were created by Nuwa, with Nuwa using Macaque and Wukong as a base, has anyone wondered who created Macaque? And does Macaque himself knows?
Wait Nuwa created Wukong? If that's so I think then all the 5 monkeys were made by her, for some reason.
@boonalina ha chiesto: Sooo what exactly is the courtnapping process like? Is it just a simple "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you away" or is it an entire ceremony? Does someone have to lure the person into place? For example, Mei bringing Redson over to a secluded spot so that Mk can "courtnap" him? (Side note: I've been in this fandom for around two years now, and this comic is what made me find out about courtnapping lol)
I "think" anything that can be counted as like a sneak attack that takes them out of guard and brings them to the designated courtnapped room can be considered as courtnapping technically.
Anonimo ha chiesto: ... Hey so your shadow peach bio parent AU is better way better than season five. WOAH, WHO SAID THAT!! (no but seriously it is like a sitcom I tune on ever so often. Much love 🫶)
Haha thank you! That's a HUGE statement!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I wonder if MK has any unique attributes/abilities as a living mass of celestial material?
He's such a cocktail ofdifferent energies I wouldn't be surprised he is able to glow in the dark.
@cjtuy ha chiesto: I do have a question it's mainly about pigsy and tang when and how long have they been together as a couple and did both of them find mk are they married ?
They have been together for almost a year, but I don't think they are married, but maybe that could happen in the future??? But yeah MK found out a little after season 5 that they are together, that was also the same time he started calling Tang "Papa"
Anonimo ha chiesto: Has macaque added any personal items to the house? Like is he moved in? Have Wukong and macaque improved or changed anything else besides making the bed bigger?
Yes he did! Half of his belongins are in FFM, althought he's a little more minimalistic than Wukong. He also have been bothering Wukong to death so that he can finally organize his stuff (and they were roomates
Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like if they were to play Minecraft or something macaque would be the base mom. He would be the only one to remember to farm food to not starve. The others would probably forget all the time that hunger is a thing in game. Wukong or Mk: oh dang does anyone have food I'm starving Macaque: (always brings extra for this reason) "sighs" yes
AH!
Anonimo ha chiesto: Remember the Minor Scale episode, from season 2? Where MK learn how to shrink himself? And there’s also the final episode of that season where MK just grow very big to try to fight LBD. I just love that part of his power and I have seen very little people showing it. Like, sometimes that power can show up when the poor boy is experiencing overwhelming emotions that can’t be contained anymore, or pure exhaustion. For example, Having many responsibility can lead to a lot of stress and exhaustion and at some point MK just can’t do more and just become tiny, not able to do more. On the opposite, maybe he experience trauma again through a nightmare (like about azure for example) and the emotional burden is to much and he just becomes big because of that. You see my vision? I love sizeshifting base on emotions :)
Aww and i love emotion-based powers, they are just so easy to play around.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Tbh the show should let macaque have a motorcycle. Wukong gets to be passenger princess
Yesss
Anonimo ha chiesto: as we get into the colder months i like to imagine MK’s first winter coat and he’s all super fluffy and warm
Cool for the monkey parents, bad for pigsy and all the hair in the restaurant from sheeding.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so funny if MKs rock hadn't been cracked and he'd been raised on FFM by wukong. If the same thing happens in the show macaque planning to take mks powers thinking he's just Wukongs student but then while macaque and MK are training. Since macaque is so close he notices his ears. (Being raised by a monkey he gets his form sooner) suddenly putting everything on hold busting into FFM and is like WUKONG WTF
There's a fic on AO3 about it it's A Son of Two Dads
@cheese-hommo ha chiesto: Hii, fiesta I want to say I love how you draw and everything, it just looks so cool and beautiful. Now, with the last chapter of Monkey parents Au and so, with the acknowledgement of the demon etiquette and else, DBK and Wukong really misunderstand the comfort scene for a confession? Or something more? It was just so funny seeing the two of them getting so embarrassed at the end 🙂‍↕️
Ah, 2 young demons in their true forms so close to each other, blushing? Scandalous.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I've seen Mk is his Lego merch- he gots a tooth gap- so does this MK have one or did he get it filled?
Wait that was a tooth gap??? I though it was like, a detail of the smile
Anonimo ha chiesto: 🎤 what is your official (if any) opinion on Ink MK? (as a character, plot device, literary parallel, what have you)
It's ok. I personally believe "shadow" version of one character with their own fears and doubts is a clique a little bit too much used. But they give a lot of angst.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Thoughts on Macaque knowing either Japanese or Korean due to him liking anime.
I'll give you one better. Macaque always traveled to Japan pretty frequently during the centuries. Then became a weeb
Anonimo ha chiesto: Maybe it's just me but Wukong looks a bit thicker each time, is it because his fur's thickening or is he getting chubbier ??????? Anyway luv ur art
Both.
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no-144444 · 1 day ago
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lies and flights- o.piastri
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pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader
summary: you two have a moment, the moment ends, and so does something else...
part one | part two | part three | part four
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He sighed as he walked into the paddock, cameras all over him as question after question was thrown at him. He answered as many as were appropriate and off he went, signing hats and t-shirts as he went. He had so much to do, so much to get through before qualifying, yet all he could think about was you. He didn’t mean to make it a big deal, he just wanted to take care of you. You’d fainted, for god’s sake. He was worried about you. 
He caught a glimpse of you walking in with Lando as he was filming some random content for one of the sponsor's instagram pages, and his mood sank lower than it already had been. You with Lando. 
It’s not like either of you had confessed, but you’d both felt the chemistry between the two of you, right? He finished up with filming and followed Tom into one of the meeting rooms, ready to look over data, when he (literally) bumped into you, sending you flying. 
“Shit, sorry,” he muttered as he caught you, holding you by the waist. “My bad.”
You smiled. “Saving me two days in a row? You should be a bodyguard instead of a driver,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”
Lando’s jaw dropped when he heard you call him ‘Osc’, and a sense of pride bloomed in his chest. Osc was getting the girl! Lando sent him a quick thumbs up behind your back as he also held the camera. 
“What’re you doing here?” Oscar asked, not yet letting go of you. His hands were so warm, radiating heat through your whole body and making you nervous. You had a love-hate relationship with interactions with Oscar. He made you so nervous, no matter what. Your years of media training and professionalism could get stripped back by one small chuckle, one small smile, making eye contact. It was embarrassing. You liked him so much, which was a separate can of worms itself, and he looked at you the same way he looked at everyone.
“Motorhome tour,” you explained, looking up at him. He could’ve sworn he saw something in your eyes, something that practically asked him to make a move, to kiss you here in front of everyone. Then it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, your professionalism taking precedence over your feelings. “Moving on,” you turned back to the camera as Oscar dropped his hands from your waist, allowing you to move on. “To the driver’s rooms!”
He chuckled as he watched you and Lando run towards the other side of the motorhome, and Oscar started walking again, not unaware of the eyes Tom was giving him. 
“You two seem close,” he smirked. “The shoes aren’t a dealbreaker, no?”
He laughed. “Why does everyone bring up the shoes?!”
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“Congratulations on P3, Judgy McJudgy Pants! How did the race feel?” you questioned. You were doing post-race interviews today, and Oscar had gone from P5 to P3. 
“Yeah, it was difficult but we kept a good pace, Max was just too fast to catch,” he nodded, his eyes staring into yours. 
“I’m glad to hear, are you glad for the race to be over?”
He nodded, chuckling. “Very glad.”
“The heat must be something else in those cars, on top of the regular heat. Does that make getting out of the car a lot more of a relief?” 
“It does, but I was more excited about the interviewer,” he smirked. He was not doing this right now. He was not flirting with you on live television. You got the signal that the interview should end and you let out a quick breath of relief. 
“Well thank you, but I in fact need to interview your fellow podium drivers, thanks for your time.”
Lando walked over, ready to take the mic and he smirked at Oscar. “Getting bold?”
He shrugged with a smile. “What’s the worst she can say?” 
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"Oscar Jack Piastri!" Nicole's voice rang out as he lifted his phone to his ear. "My son flirting with people on live television is not something I want to see."
He chuckled as he mother continued berating him, and they chatted about the race for a while, before he had to go to the airport. When he walked to his door, ready to leave, he wasn't expecting a knock at the door, nor was he expecting it to be you.
"Hey Y/n," he smiled. "How are you?"
"I'm good thank, you?" you were out of breath. Had you ran here?
"I'm great, thanks. Are you alright?"
You came in and closed the door behind you. "What are you playing at?"
"Excuse me?"
"The interviews, the pictures, everything. What are you doing?" you questioned.
"Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled. "I like you, like, like like you. I thought I made that clear?"
You grimaced and his heart sank.
"It's fine if you don't-"
"Oscar, no, just... it's kind of awful timing and we can't be together, right? That would never work, we hate each other, right?" you rationalised, willing him to agree with you.
As much as he wanted to scream and rip his hair out, he nodded, a flat smile on his face. "Exactly, that's why I was just joking."
You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God!" you chuckled. "Well, congratulations on the win and I'll see you in Qatar, thanks Osc."
"Bye," he smiled half-heartedly, then flung himself back on his bed when you left. You didn't like him back. And what did you mean by 'bad timing'? He spent his entire flight, awake and wondering about what you meant, and thinking over every interaction, wondering if he'd really just made it all up in his head.
But the way you looked at him, it couldn't just be platonic, right?
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yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, charlesleclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,928,733 others
yourusername: @.f1, you've been my home for many years and I love you, thank you for starting my career, but also for being my favourite series of motorsports since I was a little girl. But now @.skysports is branching out and I'm moving across the pond at the end of this season to cover @.Indycar and @.nascar ! I'll miss everyone so much, but I am so so so excited to see that the future will bring! 6 races left! (also sad to be missing the historic season that 2025 will be, but oh well!)
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user83: oh I'll kms.
pierregasly: we'll miss you xxx liked by: valterribottas, zhouguanyu, landonorris, danielriccardo, charlesleclerc, carlossainz, alexalbon, francocolapinto, liamlawson, yukistunoda, estebanocon, fernandoalonso, jensonbutton, aussiegrit, kevinmagnussen, nicohulkenburg, lewishamilton, georgerussell, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, isakhadjar, paularon, arthruleclerc, lancestroll, checoperez, maxverstappen, alexandrastmleux, kikagomez, lilymhe, rebeccadonaldson.
skysportsf1: We'll miss you most! xxx
tedkravitz: It's been a privilege and an honour to work with you. You truly are the funniest person I've ever met. Your segment on Ted's notebook will be thoroughly missed. You will be thoroughly missed.
charlesleclerc: Bonne chance mon amour! ❤️
yukistunoda: who will organise interviews with me and pierre now? 😿 -> yourusername: I'll ask ted :(
danielriccardo: legend of the sport :) -> yourusername: looking in a mirror are we?
mercedesfmg: we'll miss you y/n! 🩵
mclaren: missing you already! 🧡
user72: guys... has anyone told oscar? -> user21: he must be so upset :( -> user92: yeah his best friend and his crush leaving F1 in the same year.
stakef1: missing you 💚 -> yourusername: manifesting hulkenburg podium next year
lewishamilton: I'll miss you, but you definitely have to come back for some hot laps... maybe Austin next year? -> yourusername: I'm there :)
maxverstappen: sad to see you go, but i can't wait for all the stories :)
landonorris: FUCK I'M CRYING WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS YOU TOO MUCH PLEASE DON'T GO -> yourusername: IT'LL BE FINE LANDO YOU'RE A BIG BOY
patooward: YAY WE GET Y/N!
haasf1team: our favourite interviewer ever ❤️
alpine: missing you loads 🩷
jackdoohan: NO I'M FINE THAT MY BEST FRIEND IS MISSING MY ROOKIE SEASON -> yourusername: I'LL BE IN MELBOURNE AND AT THE LAST FEW RACES!!! -> jackdoohan: ...forgiven.
liamlawson: NO DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE -> yourusername: JACK WILL BE THERE NEXT YEAR CALM DOWN
kimiantonelli: miss you xxx
olliebearman: will be in need of your smoothie recipe since you won't be here to make it :( -> yourusername: I'll send it to you :)
user829: someone check on oscar rn...?? -> user36: fr he's probably sobbing his celeb crush is leaving the paddock for good ->user292: BRO IS IN THE LIKES !!!!!!
redbullracing: we'll be staying tuned to watch shine -> user88: wow a better send-off than daniel got lmao
logansargeant: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 😁😁😁😁 -> yourusername: ME NEITHER
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He stared at his phone in shock.
What. The. Fuck.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
part one | part two | part three | part four
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followerofmercy · 2 days ago
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THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT SO ELOQUENTLY
I woke up and chose brain mush today asldj;f. I believe this is the time when "using someone" becomes appropriate. When I'm in a workplace with a Racist Joe or Sexual Harasser, I do, usually, end up with a surface level civil enough work relationship no matter how much I hate them (or sometimes call them out), but that's less because they have valuable things to offer and more because I'm keeping tabs on them/trying to get dirt on them. If they're dangerous, they are no longer part of the Know A Guy network. If they suck that hard they're usually NOT worth working with, because like you said, they're hurt YOU too.
And, hell, if someone is Actively Dangerous like that, it's worthwhile to organize everyone to do something about them. Not, like, mob violence, but having an in-community support to deal with their rank ass.
There's a lot of nuance. I've had a lot of shitty people that I can be the voice of reason for - little reminders of "Hey, the women in your life have better things to do than put up with your shit. Hey, uh, I don't think that racist joke was funny. Why exactly do you think that's funny." with mixed results. Sometimes people CAN get better if they just have someone vocally disapproving of their actions. The reason a lot of these behaviors go unchecked is because they're surrounded by people that also do those behaviors, or, the only people that have been critical of them are strawmen on the internet they can feel attacked by.
Utilize peer pressure for good. I think internet circles especially have a bad habit of writing people off for Genuinely Sucking But In A Way That Could Get Better and, while it's nobody's job to fix them, the fact of the matter is that they're not gonna suddenly stop sucking without an outside influence. It really is wild how much Being Someone People Respect and Having A Different (and strong) Opinion can get people to stop and think about their biases.
...And then sometimes someone sucks so hard that your best option is "let them dig themselves a hole in front of you and then mount a counteroffensive" asldfj. Pick and choose your enemies. I used to be a homophobe because of how I was raised and now I'm not, mostly because the people around me were willing to answer my questions and also chime in when they didn't approve of my behavior. I was also raised in a racist society - just like everyone else here is - and no matter how much I work on it, I'm still gonna fuck up occasionally. I would appreciate correction instead of being written off as The Enemy.
Anyway be safe. Pick and choose the people you spend a lot of time with. I do think there's merit in being the only sane motherfucker that talks to the Kinda Racist but Could Get Better guy or the Kinda Misogynist but Not Actively Dangerous guy to get them out of their echo chamber, but at the same time, there's limits to how good of an influence you can be. Some people Are In Fact Too Dangerous To Work With. Use your best judgement
Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide
This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.
How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:
The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours
It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people
Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.
Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.
Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)
The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.
It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share
You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.
You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*
If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people
So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.
Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit
Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen
Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **
General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.
Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something
Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill
* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them
** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone
Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty
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lightseoul · 2 days ago
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CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK
w.c. 3.8k
tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up
a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!
links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)
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You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.
Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.
You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.
Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.
Even if it means looking like this.
You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.
With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.
Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?
You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.
Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.
His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.
“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.
“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”
And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”
He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.
And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.
“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”
At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.
Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.
“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”
That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”
You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”
And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?
You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”
To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”
Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”
Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.
Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.
“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.
“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.
You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”
“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.
The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”
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The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.
Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.
Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.
And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.
Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.
“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.
After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.
The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.
Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.
“Sorry,” you offer meekly.
He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”
You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”
“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”
You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.
You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.
Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.
For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?
“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”
If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.
And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.
Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.
You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.
“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”
You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.
“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”
Well.
That’s not exactly comforting.
Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.
A strip club.
You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.
“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.
You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.
And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”
“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”
“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”
To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.
“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”
You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.
“The f—”
“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”
To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”
The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.
Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.
“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”
“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.
“But, sir—”
“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.
The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.
You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.
Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.
Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.
He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.
“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.
And so you do.
You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.
But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.
And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.
Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.
It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.
You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.
Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.
Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…
It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.
And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.
There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.
But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.
“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”
“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”
Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”
“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.
You decide against it.
To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”
At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.
“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”
“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”
And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.
“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”
“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”
“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”
“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”
“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”
“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.
Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.
Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.
You brace yourself with bated breath.
He flashes you a modest smile.
“It’s a deal, then.”
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˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!
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dingodoodles · 2 days ago
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NEW FOOLS GOLD EPISODE IS OUT!!! WE DID IT!! HAZZAH! LIFE UPDATE I know my uploading schedule has slowly slowed down. As I’ve come to realize I’m a bit burnt out. I’ve been doing Fool’s Gold for almost 7 years now, STRAIGHT. I’ve only had 2 vacations and now it’s starting to bite me in the butt. I want to keep going but my brain and body need a bit of a break. I will be taking the rest of this year off to try and recharge. Along with in January- Feb, Felix and I are getting married! Meaning I have a lot to do to get that all planned. So expect ep. 37 to be a bit of a wait. I know it can be frustrating, but I do really appreciate all your patience with me and my process. I hope you all still enjoy things!
Kickstarter stuff: seems to be going well as I see lots of people getting their stuff. Canada, unfortunately was left last for the shipping services, meaning Canadians should start to be getting their rewards in the next two weeks. If you are at all missing anything or have some questions that need answered please email at: [email protected] and they will help sort things out for you!
The next episode of the Sands Podcast is going to be delayed probably by 1-2 days next week. This is due to posting ep.36 and needing a bit more time to finish off the editing of Ep.21.
We're gonna be at PAX U We'll be doing a signing at the Hit Point Press Booth. I will let you guys know as soon as I know where and when. Once again. Thank you all for supporting us and our many projects while also being SO GODAMN PATIENT with us :3
Love y'all <3
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obxsummer · 2 days ago
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paper rings // ghost of you
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pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader (she/her)
summary: sarah cameron takes a test before she joins you and john b on a rescue mission. your brother has no aim whatsoever, you can't drive a boat, and jj's got an important question for john b. (p.s. sarah cameron is an angel)
warnings: pregnancy trope (i still love u sarah), john b & jj cry sesh!!
navigation -- series masterlist
ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi
--
If you had asked Sarah Cameron what her life would look like at one point, she would’ve never told you this. She would’ve never guessed she’d be living with five Pogues who happened to be her best friends, and one Pogue leader boyfriend. That seemed impossible, but here she was.
John B was still passed out in bed, having carried you to your own at some point during the night to be tucked under warm blankets. Kie was snoring away, and Pope and Cleo had yet to emerge from their room, so Sarah had the house to herself, technically. 
She made her way out early in the morning when the sun was just peeking through, steering her bicycle into the downtown area. It was still trashed, obviously, but it seemed the worst of the damage had been taken care of and the fires were out. Keeping her head down, she ducked into the pharmacy in hopes of finding the thing she came here to.
Three years ago, if you would’ve asked Sarah Cameron, she would never be stealing pregnancy tests from a pharmacy, and she sure as shit wouldn’t be doing it at age nineteen.
Grabbing the two boxes, she stuffed them in her bag before collecting a handful of other items you all needed at the house. Might as well, considering there was still no power and the store wasn’t secured with the broken glass everywhere. 
Shuffling her way out the door, she tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while walking back to her bike. It was clear the riot had continued further past JJ’s departure since most stores were wiped of merchandise and torn to shreds.
The sunshine caught on the shards of glass scattered and Sarah held her hand up to her forehead to block the reflection from burning into her eyes. She came face to face with the local jewelry store window, the one she’d been in just a few weeks before.
--
JJ threw open the door to Sarah and John B’s room without any hesitation, and thank God the duo were actually taking a nap and not enjoying their alone time in other ways.
“Sarah!” JJ’s attempt at whispering was not going well. “Sarah, wake the fuck up!”
The girl in question groaned at being pulled from her slumber. “The fuck, JJ? What?”
The blond boy waited for her to look over at him before he was waving her closer. She huffed and shuffled out of John B’s arms, her boyfriend still snoring soundly with the grace of a heavy sleeper. Following JJ out of their room, she closed the door softly behind her so John B wouldn’t wake up.
“I need your help with something,” JJ explained.
Sarah took one look at his expression and smirked. “Holy shit, you’re so stressed.”
JJ rolled his eyes and grabbed her by her shoulders. “I need you to help me find a ring.”
“A ring? A ring for what?” Sarah repeated in confusion.  JJ shushed her, his index finger pressing against her lips as she went wide-eyed with realization. Sarah was practically jumping now, her excitement evident as she pulled JJ’s hand away from her face. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”
“Yes, now be quiet!” He looked over his shoulder to see if you were done with your shower and found the door still closed and water running. “We have to go now, okay? I don’t want her being suspicious.”
Sarah was quick to agree, bouncing as she ran down the stairs to grab her shoes and purse before meeting JJ by the Twinkie.
The two spent a good two hours in town, Sarah having been former friends with the jewelry store employee who was more than willing to answer any and all of JJ’s questions.
“What size ring does she wear?” Sarah asked as she scanned the cases for anything that caught her eye. “Do you think she’s a princess cut girl like me? Oh my God, this one is gorgeous.”
“Princess cut?” JJ repeated the phrase, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looked down at the ring Sarah was pointing at. “The fuck does that mean?”
Sarah looked up at him, dumbfounded. “Do you know the slightest thing about what she wants?”
JJ tilted his head and looked back at her. “Sarah, we’re Pogues. Have been our whole lives. Do you think she even has the slightest clue about what any of this means?”
Accepting defeat with that one, Sarah shrugged and turned back to the options displayed. “Whatever it is, you better make it a good one with all the shit she deals with when it comes to you.” She shoved JJ teasingly and moved to look at another area of the room. 
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Princess Cameron.” JJ rolled his eyes and followed her without any disagreement. 
--
Sarah frowned at the memory. The days of peace and hoping for the celebration you and JJ could have were long gone, but she hoped they could find a way to change that. If anyone deserved that happy-ever-after feeling, it was you and JJ. 
Biking back to Poguelandia was quiet, and Sarah was thankful for the time to think. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with the pink tests in her bag and her heart was racing just thinking about it. She was nineteen, John B was almost twenty, but shit they were still young. This wasn’t what she imagined when she thought about having a family. Not in an environment like this.
Sarah tiptoed her way back up the stairs, noticing all the doors were closed except for the one to your room. A tiny part of her was relieved and she peeked in to see the balcony doors open, curtains blowing lightly with the wind. Closing your bedroom door behind her, Sarah made her way out to where you were resting in the hammock with your eyes closed.
“Hi,” She whispered quietly, not wanting to scare you.
You blinked and smiled up at her. “Hi, you okay?”
Sarah bit her lip in response, hand searching blindly in her back for the boxes before she held them up for you to see. “Um… can you-can I do this, in here? With you?”
You nodded, pushing yourself out of the woven hammock to meet her in the doorway, grabbing her hand in yours. Sarah tossed her bag on your bed and followed you into the connected bathroom, forcing a deep breath into her lungs. 
“I’ll wait, out… on the other side of the door?” You asked carefully, not sure if she wanted you in the room or not. When she nodded, you squeezed her hand. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Yeah.” Sarah nodded in agreement, but she was obviously trying to convince herself more than you. You attempted to give her a reassuring smile, but it probably didn’t help considering you were just as nervous for her. She closed the door quietly after that.
You paced the floor for a moment, wanting to give her the space and privacy she deserved while also fighting the bile in your throat. What the fuck happened now?
And where the fuck was JJ?
There had been no texts or calls from your boyfriend since last night, and although you were trying to give him the space and trust he deserved, you were worried. He wasn’t in the right mindset last night, and you didn’t have enough time to talk him down like you wanted to, like you always did. 
Grabbing your phone from the charger, you unlocked it and immediately moved to the Find My app where you could see JJ’s location pinging from Goat Island. You cursed, knowing he probably went in search of Groff after the information Luke shared.
JJ deserved answers. He deserved the truth. You shook your head, thinking about how Luke Maybank abused a boy that wasn’t even his, realizing how heartbreaking this whole situation was. It was unfair, and cruel, that everything good in JJ’s life had been ripped from him in some way.
Moving back to your messages, you typed one out: babe you okay?? we can come get you??
The message wasn’t read right away, causing you to sigh, but remind yourself that he might be busy talking to Groff. Or something was wrong. And you really really hoped something wasn’t wrong.
Your bathroom door creaked open slightly, Sarah’s face poking out as you got to your feet. Her expression wasn’t easily readable but she shifted enough for you to see the two tests on counter, both with two bright lines on their screens.
“Okay,” You spoke quietly, watching her expression for any kind of indication of how she felt.
“Impeccable timing,” She replied stoically. You nodded, trying to think of any words to comfort her but were stopped by the sound of footsteps.
“Hey! Is Sarah in here?” There was no time to prepare for Kiara’s sudden presence as she popped up next to you. Her eyes locked in on the bathroom counter instantly and her jaw dropped. The turning gears in her head were practically visible as she turned to face Sarah. “Um… are those yours?”
Sarah bit her lip, clearly nervous at the thought of more people knowing. “Yeah.”
Kiara was instantly looking over at you. “Oh, shit.”
Sarah frowned at the response, her eyes moving between the two of you in attempt to figure out what she was missing. “What? What’s ‘oh shit’ about?”
You shook your head, trying to give Kiara the sign to shut up. “Nothing, nothing. There’s nothing to be worried about-”
Kie thankfully picked up on your clue and started to dig herself out of the hole she created, “I mean… soon to be homeless, broke again, chased by killers. I don’t really know how it could get better.”
Sarah hummed, her eyes glancing back at the positive tests. “It would be like, super great, if maybe you could fine, like, one positive thing,” Her voice was shaky as she looked back at the two of you, eyes damp with tears. 
“You’re gonna be an amazing mom,” You answered simply, like it was the easiest thing because it was. Sarah Cameron had all the great qualities that a parent should have, and you were so happy for her. You just wished it had been at a better time.
“The best,” Kie agreed quietly, “And John B loves you. He’s gonna be an all right dad.”
The idea sent the three of you into laughter at the thought of John B, your John B, raising a kid. 
“And you have all of us,” You continued as you reached out to grab Sarah’s hand again. “Each and every one of us.”
Sarah nodded, her arms opening to pull you and Kiara into a group hug. “I love you guys.”
“We love you,” Kiara replied, her hand squeezing your side just a little bit tighter in an unspoken conversation. “So, what does this make me Auntie Kie now?”
The three of you pulled apart with more laughter, the cloud over your heads slowly disappearing with each passing minute. 
“Does… does John B know?” Kiara asked after a moment. Sarah pulled the tests off the counter, tossing them in the boxes and into the garbage with a shake of her head, telling Kiara that he didn’t, not yet.
“Any word from JJ?” Sarah switched the topic to pull the attention off herself.
You glanced at your phone to see an empty lockscreen and shook your head in response. “No. I have an idea of where he is, I just don’t know if he needs us yet.”
Eventually, Sarah slipped downstairs to make breakfast, finding John B already up and moving around the kitchen with the smell of bacon lingering. 
“Hi,” She greeted softly, kissing his cheek before unloading the items she had stolen from the store into the fridge. “Didn’t think you were up.”
John B flipped a piece of bacon. “Heard you laughing with the girls, figured I’d come get something started before we head out for the day. When did you go out?”
“Early,” Sarah replied shortly, her chest tight with the possibility of John B overhearing the news before she could share it. “Did you.. Did you hear us?”
He gave her a quick glance before putting the butter back in the fridge. “Laughing? Yeah, but that was about it. Everything okay?”
Sarah nodded as John B wrapped her in a hug, kissing her forehead gently. “Your sister knows where JJ is.”
John B blinked in surprise at the fact that you weren’t busting down the stairs. “And we’re not going to him because?”
Sarah shrugged. “She said she wants to wait, to see if he needs us.”
While John B wasn’t sure that was the best idea, nobody knew JJ better than you, so he had no room to argue with the decision.
“The ring was gone. From the jewelry shop.”
John B nearly choked on his own spit and coughed to clear his throat. Sarah giggled at the reaction, a smile spreading across her cheeks at the way he blushed. 
“You’re lying. Please tell me you’re lying.”
“Nope,” She popped the p in her word and waved her left hand in front of his face where her homemade ring rested on her finger. “We’re not going to be special anymore, Vlad.”
John B smiled at the nickname that he hadn’t heard in a while. “You’re always gonna be special to me, Val.”
You walked down the stairs a few moments later, now dressed for the day and stomach growling with the scent of food. “Hey,” You greeted John B as he set a plate full of eggs on the table while Sarah dipped upstairs to tell the others that food was ready. “Thanks for last night, you didn’t have to stay.”
John B sat outside with you until the early hours of the morning, holding you close with the knowledge that the nightmares would be worse if someone wasn’t there. This was the first time in a while JJ wasn’t home when you went to sleep, and John B didn’t want you to worry all night, so he stayed.
“‘Course,” He replied simply, pausing to lean against the table and look at you carefully. “You heard from J?”
You shook your head, snagging a piece of bacon from the plate. “He went to Goat Island. To see Groff.”
“Groff?” John B paused. You nodded and bit off half a piece. “Like Chandler Groff?”
“Yeah, Luke was spewing some shit when JJ went to see him, so he’s trying to get answers. I didn’t ask, he seemed kind of upset about it. I’m sure he’s trying to figure out how Luke got a bypass to take the house,” You explained, trying to answer the question without really answering it. 
John B seemed to roll with it and your friends slowly filtered their way into the kitchen to eat their hearts out. Sarah tucked herself in the chair next to you, John B on her other side. The empty chair at the table was a little too obvious, and when the read receipt didn’t show up on your phone all morning, you knew something had definitely gone wrong.
--
John B and Sarah were in agreement the second you said something felt off about JJ not answering. You quickly cleaned up after breakfast (though it was more like lunch at this point), and tried to get ahold of JJ again. Your texts were no longer being read, but his location was still pinging near Goat Island and you knew you had to drag your friends into it despite JJ’s wishes.
“We can take the HMS, he took the charter boat,” John B offered as you tried calling JJ again, to no avail. 
“We’ll try to find out some more about the rezoning,” Pope offered as he motioned toward Cleo. “It’s only a matter of time before they come knocking. We might as well prepare for it. Could stop by and say hi to Ma and Pops too.”
Kie nodded in agreement, “I need to go check in at home, anyway. Mom’s gonna kill me with how yesterday went.”
John B nodded in understanding and tugged a shirt on over his tank top. “Alright, we’ll catch up with you guys later, yeah?”
The three of you took to the HMS shortly after, John B setting his course to Goat Island. Sarah plopped next to you on the small bench, leaning against your shoulder as you stared across the water.
Your brother was, recognizing the distant look in your eyes but his confusion was focused on Sarah’s sudden silence. She seemed excited earlier in the kitchen when talking about her new revelation, but she’s gotten quiet since then. John B made an internal note to ask her later.
“What’s that?” Your eyes caught sight of another boat across the marsh, barely covered by the plants covering it. “Kill the engine, JB,” You directed as you ducked down out of view. The fact that the sun was still setting didn’t help your cover but hopefully, the marsh grass would do its job enough for you to get a closer look. You could just barely see a group out on one of the ledges, a handful of them all with their sights on two people.
“Shit, that’s JJ,” You pointed slightly to the white shirt covering the form of your boyfriend. From here, he looked generally unharmed, but you still didn’t like the way the mercenaries were holding him back. 
“And Groff.” John B locked onto the form of the older man who was also being held a little too tight to be friendly. 
“Those are the guys from Charleston who took the scroll,” Sarah pointed toward the guy and girl that you and John B had narrowly avoided in the cemetery. The man she pointed at was the one Cleo had tried to kill, the same one that almost killed you while diving.
“What do they want with JJ?” John B asked, his eyes not leaving the form of his best friend, whose arm was wrenched behind his back with a machete a little too close to his face. 
You shook your head, heart practically in your throat at the scene in front of you. “I don’t think it’s JJ they want. He’s collateral.”
John B ran a hand through his hair. “We could, like, ram them. Create a distraction,” He offered.
“Ram that?” You repeated as you pointed toward the much larger boat. “John B, come on!”
“Sorry! Just trying to think!”
“Wait, hey!” Sarah reached down to grab the handful of liquor bottles that were remaining from your last store run, having been left on the HMS in a hurry, clearly. “A little Molotov cocktail, maybe?”
You gave her a side glance. “That’s psychotic. Let’s find some rags.”
John B quickly pulled up the bench seat in search of any leftover towels. You tugged your favorite beach towel from underneath you, fingers struggling for a second before you were able to rip it into strips, quickly tossing them to your brother.
“John B, hurry!” You hissed as the lady’s attention moved to JJ, her form much closer than before. 
“I’m trying! Shit!” 
Sarah ripped one bottle from his hand, tucking a few towel strips into the neck of the bottle and swirling it to the alcohol would drench the towels. “Light it, we'll distract them. He’ll get free, jump over, and we’ll grab him.”
“Just don’t hit him,” You looked at your brother, slightly terrified with the knowledge of his past aim. “I’d like him in one piece, please.”
John B quickly tied a rope around the bottle, his fingers moving as fast as he could to tie one of the knots your father had taught as kids. “Don’t hit JJ with the Molotov cocktail. Gotcha.”
Your hands searched your jean shorts for JJ’s lighter that you rarely left home without, handing it over to John B for his use. “Be careful, please.”
Sarah tucked herself behind the wheel of the ship, your brother on the front bow with the cocktail and lighter in hand. He quickly lit the towel, a curse leaving his lips at how fast it caught flame before he tossed JJ’s lighter back to you and started spinning the rope with the flames midair.
“Oh my God, I should’ve done it,” You huffed as you ducked next to Sarah, John B’s tactic clearly a horrible one. 
With a final grunt, he put his whole body into the throw… only for it to come back down on the floor of the boat.
“John B!” You chastised as the flames sprinkled over the floor. “You’re a dumbass!”
“Oh shit!” John B tumbled into the water in shock, the splash definitely giving away your cover if the fire itself didn’t.
You cursed and pushed Sarah back when she went to run for him, your stern eyes keeping her in place as you ripped open the cabinet beneath the wheel to grab the fire extinguisher Pope insisted on being there despite JJ’s best wishes. 
In his defense, John B was kicking and shoving water onto the boat, lessening the flames before you pulled the pin on the extinguisher and knocked the rest of it out in a cloud of powder. 
“Are you okay?” Sarah reached down to pull your brother back on board.
“I’m so sorry,” John B coughed and flung his extra shirt over into the boat.. 
“A blind person could’ve thrown that better!” You hissed and helped Sarah haul his weighted form up.
John B shrugged your hands off, his attention back on the cabinet where he pulled out a slingshot that JJ insisted on buying at the local county fair one year, swearing water balloon fights were going to become his new hobby.
You grabbed the second bottle as John B tied the rubber pieces to stabilize them. 
“You have ten seconds to explain yourself, or we start shooting!”
You recognized the man’s voice, knowing he was the one who had chased after you and JJ underwater that day. John B shuffled around on the floor, pulling the bands back into position for you to settle the bottle into his grip.
“Ready?” You asked, flicking the lighter open in your hand. Your brother nodded, giving you permission to bring the flame closer until the towel caught and the flames warmed your skin. 
John B took a deep breath, his movements calculated as he aligned and leaned back further. “Bye bye.”
The bottle launched this time, flying across the channel gap to the larger boat where the glass shattered on impact. The group went scrambling and you lost sight of JJ in the glowing orange light. 
“I said not to hit him!” You smacked your brother’s shoulder out of anxiety and looked back to the fiery scene ahead. “Let’s go!” 
John B moved instantly to restart the engine and steer closer to where JJ could hopefully get a better approach to jump. Your jaw dropped at the sight of a burning form going overboard to remove the flames from his clothes. 
“Where is he?” You called out aimlessly as John B approached the boat. He tugged on your elbow, pulling you behind the wheel without any explanation, and stood on the edge. 
“I’ll find him,” He promised before hopping to the other boat like it was the easiest thing ever. “Circle back around.”
Sarah thankfully shifted you gently, understanding you hated driving the boat in the first place, let alone when both of your boys were up to no good. Her hands took over easily and she steered the boat with a precision you never had.
“Thank God you used to be a Kook,” You breathed out with a small laugh, Sarah smiling in response but keeping her eyes focused. “We’ve gotta quit letting them do stupid shit like this together!”
Sarah huffed, turning around slightly to bring the larger boat into view as you waited for the boys to come into view. “I’ll kill them myself, actually.”
After a moment of looking, you caught JJ’s white t-shirt sprinting out one of the doors higher up, John B right behind him. Your brother took to the ladder, JJ engaging in another fight with the mercenary who intercepted him.
“Shit, shit, go!” You directed to Sarah when both boys were as high as they could climb. The crew below was recovering from the distraction and slowly shifting closer to engage. You screamed as one started climbing the rungs just behind your boyfriend, “JJ!”
His head snapped up immediately at your voice, barely sparing a glance at John B before the fear of you watching him get killed outweighed the jump they were about to take. “Ready?”
“Screw it.”
You couldn’t tell whether they were screams of excitement or fear, but both John B and JJ jumped as far away from the boat as they could. Sarah moved just as quickly, giving the vessel enough push to float next to the two close enough that you could lean down and grab hold. 
You anchored your weight and reached down with two hands to grab JJ’s wrists, a small grunt slipping out as you pulled him up with your momentum, both of you tumbling to the floor of the HMS. Sarah and John B had been much more graceful, your brother having enough time to get back to his feet and behind the wheel, jamming the throttle forward just as gunshots rang out.
You reached out to grab Sarah’s wrist, pulling her back down as John B swerved to make it harder to aim. JJ coughed under you, your leg tucked between his two as you sat up to keep an eye out for the mercenaries to follow. When they didn’t, you put your attention on the boy.
“Holy shit,” You breathed before bending to kiss him deeply, fingers tangling into his wet hair as his hands grabbed your hips tightly. You managed two more quicker kisses before settling back. “You okay?”
JJ’s thumbs slipped under your tank top to brush your skin gently as you looked him over for any obvious injuries. “Oh baby, you have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
“Hey, hey. Keep it PG down there, you two,” John B’s request made you scoff and you moved down to kiss JJ again despite your brother’s wishes. Sarah sat next to your brother, letting him rest on her shoulder as she took over driving so John B’s adrenaline could wear off easier. 
The four of you burst into laughter, sinking into the relief that you found your missing piece and could return home for the little time you had left there. What you didn’t know, just yet, was that the boys made it out with the scroll relating to the Blue Crown and your next treasure hunt was just around the corner.
--
After arriving back at Poguelandia, Sarah had practically dragged you into the house with the intent to shower before you’d rejoin the boys and catch everyone up on the last few hours. 
“Hey, dude,” JJ stopped John B before the older boy left the dock after he tied up the HMS. “Can I talk to you about something?”
John B nodded without any hesitation, nudging his head toward the store to at least get under the light since night had taken over. The Routledge boy dug into the cooler, grabbing a beer for himself before tossing one to his best friend. “Let me guess, this has to do with the grabby hands you had at the jewelry store last night?”
JJ’s jaw practically hit the floor which had John B dying from laughter in a few seconds. 
“How the fuck did you know?” JJ glanced around quickly to make sure nobody else was around to hear the conversation. “Seriously, are you a mind reader or like-”
“Sarah told me,” John B took a deep breath to resettle his emotions. “Said it was gone.”
JJ groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly, he didn’t know how to talk to his best friend of almost fifteen years. How does one ask their best friend of fifteen years permission to marry his sister?
“Look, I know this conversation should’ve been had with your dad, and I wish it could be because there’s a lot of things I would say to him first,” JJ started off, his words a little too heavy for his liking, but he had to acknowledge it. He had to acknowledge the fact that they were still kids in a scary world, and Big John should’ve been better to you. 
Clearing his throat, JJ took a big sip of his beer before forcing himself to meet John B’s gaze. “I mentioned it and you probably thought I was joking, but I also know there is nothing more she would want than for you to hear about this first. More than anything in the world, John B.”
John Booker Routledge had prepared himself for a lot of things in life, but he never prepared himself to be staring at his best friend with tears in his eyes over you. To be talking about another person protecting you when he couldn’t, to give up being the one you ran to for help. John B didn’t want to admit it, but he felt like this was saying goodbye to being your big brother. 
“I love her, man. I love her more than I ever thought I was capable. She makes me… she makes me so good. Like I’m more than the kid with the piece of shit dad and the shit short stick. I’m more than that to her, and… and I couldn’t be more thankful for that. Like you can’t make that shit up, bro,” JJ let out a teary laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s like the fucking sunshine after a hurricane, like no matter what, it’s gonna be okay, and I don’t want to lose her. Ever.
“I want to make her the happiest person in the world. She deserves a life so much better than this one, where she’s not worried about food on the table, or if we’re coming home at night. She and Sarah, hell all of us, we all deserve that, man. I just…I just want the chance to give it to her.” 
John B stared at the person across from him who was spewing words he couldn’t read in cursive. This was JJ, JJ fucking Maybank. The kid who smoked weed like it was his job and hosted keggers like it was nobody’s business. John B’s watched that version of JJ, the ticking time bomb version, completely disappear. That version of JJ doesn’t exist anymore, and in its place was the one John B had grown to trust when it came to you. 
The version that held your hand when the road was rocky. The one who picked flowers in your favorite colors just to see the excitement in your eyes before they died two days later. The JJ that held you night after night when your head became too messy and you wanted to give up. This was the JJ that knew your anxiety attacks and how to stop them, how to be level-headed with you even when it was hard to. This is the JJ that John B knew you deserved.
JJ was pacing now that his best friend hadn’t really said much and he was worried the idea was flying out from under his fingertips. “I know I don’t deserve her, John B. I never will. And I’ll never forgive myself for letting everything happen to her. I should’ve been there, I should’ve done better. But I swear to you, from here on out, I will do everything I can, every lasting day of my life to make sure she’s safe.”
Reaching into the zipper pocket of his cargo shorts, he tugged out the signature shark tooth he usually had clipped around his neck, but this time there was a new piece attached. A silver ring on the chain weighed a little bit heavier than usual. JJ took apart the clasp and pulled the jewelry off before holding it out to John B.
“Sarah um… Sarah was with me, but I guess that’s obvious now. I didn’t know what the fuck princess cut meant, and the lady there went to the Kook academy and they used to be friends so I guess…”
JJ's voice floated away as John B stared at the ring in between his fingers. He’d seen this ring so many times in his life, and the realization of where made the tears fall. Holy shit.
John B crying caught JJ off guard and now he was panicking, “Dude, you good?”
“I made a call,” Sarah’s voice entered the conversation as John B turned to face her. She was teary herself, having eavesdropped a bit on the words shared. “Nicola said she remembered your dad from the shop.”
John B swallowed harshly and opened his arm to let Sarah tuck into his side. He stared at the object for a moment longer before holding it back toward JJ who was looking at him expectantly. “That was… that’s my mom’s ring. Our mom’s ring.”
JJ’s breath caught in his throat. 
“Dad had pawned it when he got in deep with the gold and… how did you?” John B sniffled and rubbed his nose as he looked down at the girl next to him.
“Oh come on,” Sarah laughed at their shock, but deep down she knew this meant a lot to John B and it would mean even more to you. “She’s my best friend. Did you really think I was going to let you go in there and pick out something as important as this when you didn’t even know what a cushion halo was?”
JJ crashed into the blonde girl a little harder than he intended, but Sarah welcomed it regardless. She hugged him back just as tightly, feeling his shoulders shake beneath her touch. She was just glad to make this happen for the two of you. Nobody deserved it more. 
JJ pulled back after a moment, giving her forehead a kiss before he was once again faced with his best friend and the lingering question. John B tackled him just as hard, the two boys clutching each other like a lifeline. Suddenly, they were kids on the playground again, defending each other when things hit a little too close to home. And shit, were you home to both of them.
“There is nobody…nobody, I would trust with her more than you,” John B sniffled when he leaned back to clasp JJ on the shoulder tightly, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his face. “She’s yours, JJ. Always has been.”
JJ let out a sob and embraced John B again. John B knew that deep down JJ never felt like he was good enough for you, but the two of you couldn’t have been more perfect for each other. 
And although John B felt like he was losing you, there’s nobody he’d rather lose you to than his best friend, JJ Maybank.
--
a/n: hiiiii our babies are getting engaged!!!!!
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mommynott · 2 days ago
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i need need NEED showersex w theo scene pweaseeeeeeeeee
i luv ur writing btw actually in luv
Shower sex with Theo is a literal NEEEEEED so I get it
You’re so sweet thank you sm anon 💋💋💋
Okaaaaay let’s get into some steamy shower fun with Theo 👀
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Showering in Cum
Theodore Nott x Reader
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Summary: Just some steamy shower fun between friends with benefits
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, college au, fwb!theo, dom!theo, shower sex, rough sex, spanking, degrading, dirty talk, facial, PIV, dom&sub
—Plap plap plap- Your soapy breasts were pressed up against the glass shower door, Theo holding your wrists behind your back as he thrusted into you with great force. Warm water trickles down your marked-up body. This was already round two for the night. “Can’t get enough of me, can you, Tesoro?”
Groaning roughly through his words, his eyes were glued down to your wet ass that jiggled against him. His free hand had a good grip on your hips while he fucked you. —Smack! Theodore’s heavy hand falls onto your ass cheek, the steamy water making it sting even more, but fuck you lived for pain and pleasure. “When I ask you a question… you answer me, slut—“ The assertiveness was prominent in Theo’s tone but fuck. You were a babbling mess of bliss.
“S-sorry, daddy— Fuck! It feels so good!-Mmm” You stumbled over your own words, resting your cheek against the glass as you felt Theo ram inside of your leaking cunt even harder than before. His cock twitching at the pet name you gave him. But this wasn’t new for you guys. Not at all. Friends with benefits has been going on for months now… and lately? You two haven’t been able to keep your hands off of one another.
Theo took his hand that was digging into the flesh of your hip and reached over to grab one of your tits, giving it a firm squeeze. But only for a split second before he swiftly grabbed the shower head, bringing it between your legs “Feels good, huh?— Show me how fuckin, good it feels, Bella.” The sensation of the jetting water on your clit was making your knees weak. “T-Theo…Gods—I…please don’t stop! Fuck— that feels so fucking good!”
Seeing your reaction, Theo smirked, his grip tightened around your two wrists behind your back just as he started pounding his cock deeper and faster. Feeling your rapid pulse from your veins. Surely they’d be bruised tomorrow. “Who fucks you this good, hm? Who Tesoro? Say my fuckin’ name….No one compares to how I fuck you huh?” He was taunting you but, hell, it was true. No one fucked you like Theodore Nott did.
“You—fuck! T-Theo- Theo- Theo!” A euphoric scream guttered from your lungs, your juices squirting out so heavily that it shoved his cock right out of your clenched walls. Theodore quickly spun you around, his strong hand wrapping around your throat while he lowered you to your knees. “I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face.” He growled, pumping his cock right over you as you stuck your tongue out, surely a sight to see for the Italian.
Taking your hands, you pressed your tits together, showing off all of your sex appeal for him. “Cazzo— You’re so fuckin’ hot-“ Theo groaned loudly, stroking his length that was covered in your sweet wetness even faster before his sticky white cum spilled all over your face and tongue. A little bit of it falling onto your breasts. Theo took his pointer finger, scooping up some of his seed, and held it to your swollen lips. “Open.”
Through his heavy breathes, you parted your mouth open, sucking his cum right off of his finger. Theo’s gaze darkening down into yours. “Such a good fucking girl.” He mumbled before lifting you to your feet. Immediately taking some water in his palms and carefully cleaning up your face. Grabbing the soap and slowly massaging it down your tired body. Softly smacking random little kisses down your neck from time to time. Wanting to take care of you after all of the intense, rough sex the two of you had today.
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Okay but this was SO fun to write I’m thinking of doing a full shower sex fic now lmaooo
Hope you beauties liked this one! Love you bunches and as always, requests and asks are open💋
Divider linked in my masterlist🌙
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zepskies · 3 days ago
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Heyo! So not sure how youd even write this from a story perspective— maybe headcanons r easier idk— but! What would Current SB/Ben say to his younger self (your choice on age) about his future? Whether it be from an introspective place, him talking fondly about his future family, etc — all you boo👍 Hope youre doing well!
Hey there! Thanks, I'm doing well and hope you are too!
Strictly speaking on story/fic requests, I'm only doing full fic requests on my Patreon, but occasionally I'll be able to do a short imagine/HC when something strikes me. For example, you pose a really interesting question. I think the answer would depend on Soldier Boy/Ben's level of growth/character development.
Like, if we're talking about Break Me Down version of Ben, for example, I've actually thought about this a bit before! If he had the opportunity to talk to his younger self, let's say in the 80s (shortly before Nicaragua):
What (BMD) Soldier Boy/Ben Would Say to His Younger Self
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"You just think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Ben says, crossing his arms at his younger counterpart.
"What? I'm at the top of my game?" Soldier Boy says. He smokes a joint, blowing up smoke casually and arrogantly.
Ben chuckles. "That's what you think."
Soldier Boy frowns. "The whole fucking world worships me. Whatever I want, I get. Women, picture deals, a fucking statue in front of Vought tower-- Hell, I've got hit after hit record on the top of the charts, for fuck's sake."
Ben just shakes his head. His rueful smile irks the other guy, but not as much as what he says next.
"And you're bored," Ben says. "You've got it all... But nothing's ever good enough, right?"
Soldier Boy's lips purse, but he doesn't have an answer. Not one he's willing to voice. Ben nods in understanding.
"It's all right. One day you'll find it," he says.
Soldier Boy frowns, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean, find it?"
Ben doesn't want to give away the punchline. This guy hasn't earned it yet. Not the way Ben knows he'll need to. Otherwise, he'll never understand what it all meant. What all those years struggling alone in the dark, and what betrayal, loneliness, and pain were worth.
No, he won't give it all away. But he'll give him this, at least.
"It's the simplest thing in the world," Ben says. "You're gonna meet a woman."
Granted, the way he met you was anything but simple. The way Ben sees it now, though, it is simple.
Soldier Boy's frown fades, his face turning wry. "A woman, huh? Think I've got plenty of those. Any time, any place, any way I want."
"Not this one," Ben says. He can't help a small, reserved smile when he thinks of you. "Matter of fact, she's going to test your last ever-fucking nerve, every day of your life...but you're not gonna be the same."
Ben thinks about the life he's built with you. He thinks about his daughter, Lila, and his son on the way. Ben pictures the house in his mind--Christmases, birthdays, wedding anniversaries, along with missions gone awry, and the fights and arguments that reverberated on those walls. Moments where his temper got the best of him, or your stubbornness made you dig your heels in. All of it is worth it.
"Then one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've got everything you need," Ben says.
Soldier Boy seems to take that in. He's still skeptical, but maybe secretly interested in the bright future lying in wait behind his older self's eyes, even though he doesn't want to show it.
"Yeah? And then what?" Soldier Boy asks, in a tone that scoffs, but Ben sees that he's serious too, and he's listening. He knows it as well as he knows himself.
Ben levels a pointed finger at him.
"All you need to do, is protect it."
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AN: It's like the old Spiderman meme where he's pointing at himself. lol 💚
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Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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BMD Tag List:
(I've paired this down from the old list that seemed to have a lot of people/blogs that are no longer active.)
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2
@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91
@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester
@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70
@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303
@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas
@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67
@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510
@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373 @charmed-asylum
@mrlonelycat @kmc1989 @siampie @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters
@alwaystiredandconfused @mostlymarvelgirl @twinkleinadiamondsky @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess
@winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland
@illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala @impala-dreamer @k4marina
@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn
@number1whorehome @g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic
@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77
@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas
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hard-core-super-star · 16 hours ago
Text
brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]
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pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff
summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare
wordcount: 4.1k
a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3
* * * * * * *
Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.
That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 
The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.
Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.
And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.
It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.
(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)
You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.
Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.
She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.
Well, except because you really missed Wanda.
Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.
Your bed.
That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 
Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.
That was the third thing you learned.
Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.
It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.
You didn't understand how real that was until now.
Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.
You were theirs.
You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.
A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."
"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your grip on me begs to differ."
At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.
"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."
 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.
Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.
Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"
Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.
After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.
"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."
Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"
You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.
However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.
"Yes, Daddy. I know."
She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"
You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."
Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.
"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.
"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."
"Good. Thank you, Friday."
The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.
"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"
You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.
You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.
In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.
Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.
"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."
You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.
You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.
The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.
"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."
Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.
"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"
"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"
"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."
Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."
The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."
"When are you going to let that go?"
"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."
Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.
Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.
You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.
They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.
Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."
"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.
"I'm talking to all of you."
"Nice save, 'Tasha."
"Shut up."
There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.
"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"
You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.
"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.
"I'm guessing this means training's going well."
"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."
The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.
It's far too fun.
"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"
Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.
You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.
Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."
"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.
A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.
"Keep telling yourself that, darling."
"Oh, I will."
Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.
Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.
Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."
You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.
You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.
Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.
The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.
"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."
"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"
You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.
Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.
"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."
The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.
"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.
"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"
"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"
The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.
You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.
"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.
You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.
Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."
Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.
"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."
"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."
"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."
The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."
Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.
"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."
You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.
"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."
Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.
You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.
The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.
They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.
"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."
"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."
That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.
Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.
Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"
Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."
The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.
Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.
"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.
Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"
"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."
"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.
Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"
The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."
You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.
"Sorry," you mumble.
Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."
The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 
Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."
"Don't rush her, little witch."
Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."
A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.
But the Widow really can't help herself.
"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."
Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.
Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.
Your bed.
With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.
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wip · 2 days ago
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would it be possible to allow both a primary blog and its secondary blogs to have the same blocked users list/share a blocked list? like if i create a secondary blog for a specific thing, i naturally wouldnt/dont want people ive already blocked to interact with that blog either, but re-blocking every single user, when some people have hundreds or thousands of people that they have blocked (like me) is nigh impossible/kind of a cruel thing to ask when the same person would clearly have the same people blocked on that blog too.
like could the blocked users list be assigned to all blogs under the email, rather than to individual blogs regardless of secondary status? like removing an invisible wall and just letting the secondary blog[s] use the main blog's blocked list instead of its own separate one.
or would implementing this somehow hit rate limits or something? (which is i think why twitter's old 'import blocklist' feature shut down years ago and why i wouldnt ask for that feature on here, as cool as it would be.) in which case would it be possible for new blocks going *Forward* to be shared across same-email blogs instead since the secondary blogs wouldnt have to be hit with the weight of a sudden influx of past block requests and it would be able to happen gradually as the person blocks new users from hereon one by one in real time? (sorry that this is wordy!)
Answer: Hi there, @ryuseitaiz!
Thanks for your question. This is a tricky one!
This is a not-uncommon question that we receive at @wip. One of Tumblr’s oldest core principles is that we try not to reveal who owns what blogs—or the relationships between primary and secondary blogs.
So, blocking someone from all your blogs could easily reveal that the same person owns different blogs in some scenarios that can be easy to game. For the longest time, we haven’t wanted to change this principle—but we are rethinking it in some areas, like Communities. We may rethink it everywhere, based on feedback like this, but can’t say any more than that right now. If anything changes, you’ll find out here or at @changes.
But thank you—we appreciate your thoughts and consideration.
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daisymbin · 1 day ago
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Hey can i get 41. "you’re staring again—what’s on your mind?" Female reader asking Joshua? Pls thanks🤍
ah!! thank you for requesting!! hope you enjoy this one!
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fluff prompt 41: "you're staring again—what's on your mind?"
it was late, the kind of quiet that only settles when the world has gone to sleep. the warm glow of the table lamp painted the room in soft amber, the kind of light that made everything feel a little more intimate. you were curled up on the couch, a book in your lap, though you hadn’t turned the page in a while.
you could feel his gaze.
joshua sat on the opposite end, his arm draped over the back of the couch like he had nowhere else to be. he wasn’t even pretending to hide it this time, his eyes trained on you with a softness that made your chest tighten.
“you’re staring again.” you tried to sound nonchalant, keeping your eyes on the book. but the words came out quieter than you’d intended. “what’s on your mind?”
he didn’t answer right away. you finally looked up to find him smiling, that small, lopsided smile that always made you weak.
“you.”
just the single word, and it felt like all the air had been knocked out of the room. your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought the urge to look away, to hide the way your cheeks were surely betraying you.
“me?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“you,” he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “i can’t help it. you do this thing—” he paused, his smile growing wider, almost teasing. “you make everything else disappear. it’s hard to focus on anything when you’re here.”
“that’s—” your voice caught, and you quickly cleared your throat. “that’s ridiculous.”
he laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet space between you. “is it?”
you stared at him then, trying to figure out if he was joking, if this was one of those moments where he was just being joshua—playful, impossible to read. but his gaze held steady, warm and unwavering, and you felt like you were the only thing in the world he was seeing.
“you don’t mean that,” you said finally, though even you didn’t sound convinced.
“i do,” he said, his voice softer now, almost shy. “i think about you all the time. more than i probably should.”
your breath hitched, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. the book in your lap suddenly felt heavy, your fingers tightening around its edges.
“you… you shouldn’t say things like that unless you mean them,” you said quietly, your eyes dropping to the floor.
“i mean them,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “every word.”
when you looked up, he was closer, close enough that you could see the way his eyes softened, the sincerity in them clear as day.
“so… what’s on your mind?” he asked, echoing your earlier question, though his tone was lighter now, teasing.
“you,” you admitted, the word barely a whisper.
his smile widened, and this time, he didn’t look away.
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tareqayad · 20 hours ago
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📆 Date: November 21, 2024 (Palestine Time)
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Short-term goal: $20,000
✅ Amount raised so far: $14,972
💵 Remaining to reach the goal: $5,028
📅 Donations received today: only $160
✋ If 120 people donate $25 each, we can achieve the short-term goal!
💡 And if 3,117 people donate $25 each, we will reach the campaign's full goal!
🌟 Every donation makes a big difference! You can help by donating $5, $10, $20, or even $25 to contribute to the progress of the campaign. And don’t forget to reblog or share this post to reach more people!
If you have any questions or inquiries, I’m here to answer them.
You can also check out the campaign details and verification through the link below: https://linktr.ee/savetareq
Thank you for your support and trust!
TAREQ AYYAD
tag list under the cut :
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zoofzoofxx · 2 days ago
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—The art of eyecontact —
Pairings ; Axel Kovacevic x fem!reader
Summary ; After spending a night together, Axel made a mistake, regretting his actions soon after. His friend Zara, seeing the tension between them, steps in to help by offering advice and encouragement. She urges Y/n to reconsider the situation, emphasizing that Axel’s feelings are genuine despite his hesitation, and suggests that Y/n give him another chance to explain himself.
Warnings ; none (I think)
Mentions ; @oscarisdaddy69 @babylambdietcoke @karmaswitch
Pt. 2
୨୧・・・・♡・・・・୨୧
I woke up feeling completely drained, as though I had been transformed into a zombie overnight. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was already 8 a.m., and the harsh reality hit me- I had only managed to get one hour of sleep. My mind, still foggy with exhaustion, was suddenly flooded with memories of the night before, replaying every detail vividly.
Turning to the side of the bed, I noticed Axel was nowhere to be seen. However, the sound of running water from the bathroom confirmed he was in the shower. Deciding not to waste time, I slipped back into the clothes I had worn the previous night. Once Axel emerged, I planned to let him know that I would head back to my own room to get ready.
'Hi.' I turned around to see Axel standing there in simple, casual clothes. I offered him a small smile and a quick wave, keeping it light. He didn't say much as he walked closer to me, his presence commanding yet calm. Instead of a kiss, he pulled me into a hug.
The embrace was warm and steady, and I couldn't help but notice the distinct, luxurious scent of his cologne—it was rich and captivating, lingering in the air between us. His warmth was comforting, a stark contrast to the exhaustion I was still feeling.
'I should get going. The next event is in four hours,' I said, my eyes drifting toward the bed where, just an hour ago, we had been sleeping together. On the chair nearby were the folded clothes he had lent me to sleep in. They were neatly arranged, a small but thoughtful gesture that didn't go unnoticed.
When I looked back at Axel, I noticed a soft pink hue coloring his cheeks, a hint of shyness that made the moment feel unexpectedly tender.
'Thank you for everything,' I added, my voice gentle as I tried to ease the subtle awkwardness lingering between us. I wanted to make the atmosphere feel more comfortable, even as I prepared to leave.
He gave a small nod, his demeanor calm and composed. 'No problem at all. I enjoyed your company,' he replied, his voice relaxed and warm. He seemed far more at ease than he had been the day before, when tension had defined his every movement. This softer side of him made me smile, even if just inwardly.
'Oh my god, no way!' Sam exclaimed, pacing back and forth across the room while I sat silently on the edge of my bed, unsure of how to respond.
'So, are you two like... a thing now?' she asked, stopping abruptly to look at me, her hands firmly planted on her hips and one eyebrow arched high.
I bit the inside of my cheek, the question hanging heavily in the air. I didn't have an answer—not for her, not even for myself. Instead, I shrugged, a silent gesture that conveyed my uncertainty. My lips pressed into a straight line as my thoughts drifted to the tournament happening in just a few hours, offering a convenient distraction from her probing stare.
'Let's just get ready,' I said, standing up and reaching for my karate uniform, eager to shift the conversation away from Sam's relentless curiosity.
'We'll have this talk later, young lady!' she yelled after me, her voice full of mock authority. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her pointing at me, as if to emphasize her determination.
I couldn't help but laugh at her over-the-top seriousness as I walked to the bathroom. Once inside, I locked the door and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over me, clearing my head before the day ahead.
As Robby and I walked into the building where the Sekai Taikai event was taking place, my eyes immediately landed on Tory standing in the lobby. She looked composed but intense, her focus evident. Robby sighed beside me, already taking a step in her direction, but I gently stopped him, deciding to approach her myself.
'Y/n,' she greeted, her tone serious, her expression unreadable. The captain's headband was already tied firmly around her head, a symbol of her leadership and resolve.
'Tory... how are you feeling?' I asked, letting out a small sigh, my voice softer than usual. She didn't respond right away, standing in silence as if weighing her words. The tension in the air was palpable, and I found myself stepping forward without hesitation, wrapping her in a hug.
At first, she didn't move, her arms stiff at her sides, clearly hesitant. But after a few seconds, I felt her hands rest on my back. She sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that seemed to carry everything she couldn't say. Her grip tightened, and for a brief moment, she hugged me back fiercely before pulling away.
'Everyone on your team is mad at me,' Tory said, her voice quiet as she shifted her gaze from the ground back to me. There was a flicker of guilt in her eyes, a vulnerability she rarely let show.
'They're not,' I replied, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat. 'They understand how you feel and why you left.' My words came out gently, hoping to ease her mind. I was about to say more when a group of Tory's teammates, including Kwon, walked up to her. Their eyes darted toward me, filled with disdain and unspoken accusations.
Sensing the rising tension, I offered Tory a quick goodbye and stepped away, heading toward the locker rooms where I assumed my team would be waiting. On the way, I nearly bumped into Zara. Seeing her brought back the memory of yesterday, when she'd helped me with the water. Her kindness lingered in my mind, making the chance encounter feel a little less coincidental.
'Hi Zara, I wanted to thank you so much for the water and—' I started, but she cut me off before I could finish.
'It was Axel's idea,' she said matter-of-factly. 'But he was too shy to bring it to you himself, so he asked me to do it for him. Which I did.' Her tone was short, almost dismissive, leaving me momentarily speechless.
'Still, thank you,' I managed, offering a small smile while my thoughts drifted elsewhere. I couldn't help but wonder where Axel was now and why he hadn't just come to me himself.
'Do you know where he might be?' I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Zara turned slightly and gestured toward the direction of her team's locker room. 'He's in our locker room,' she said with a small, knowing smile before walking off without another word.
I stood there for a moment, processing her answer, before deciding what to do next. Her casual demeanor left me feeling more curious than ever about Axel and why he seemed so hesitant to approach me directly.
I sighed as I made my way to their locker room, hesitating briefly before giving the door a soft knock. It opened to reveal their sensei, who looked at me with a mix of confusion and curiosity.
'May I help you?' he asked, his tone formal as he opened the door wider. Over his shoulder, I saw Axel deep in conversation with one of his teammates. The moment they noticed me, their chatter stopped, and all eyes turned in my direction.
'May I speak with Axel?' I asked, my voice tinged with stress. Memories of what had happened to him resurfaced, and a wave of discomfort washed over me.
Axel stood up almost immediately, but before he could step out, the sensei placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.
'One minute,' the sensei instructed, his tone firm. Axel nodded and quickly walked toward me once he was released. His gaze met mine briefly before darting around, scanning the area as if checking for prying eyes. Without a word, he grabbed my wrist gently but firmly and led me down the hall, pulling me into an empty locker room.
'Axel, I—' I began, but he interrupted me, his tone sharp and distant.
'Yesterday was a mistake. We shouldn't be hanging around with each other. You're my opponent, and there's nothing going on between us,' he said coldly, his posture stiff, the same tense demeanor he had shown the day before.
For a moment, I stood there, speechless. I didn't know what to feel—whether I should be hurt, relieved, or indifferent. Deep down, I had seen it coming. Kissing someone you barely know, someone you'd only met yesterday, was bound to lead to complications. It was a reality I couldn't ignore.
A soft sigh escaped me as I nodded, silently acknowledging his words. I kept my gaze fixed on the walls of the empty locker room, avoiding his piercing eyes. 'I understand,' I said quietly, my voice steady, though my thoughts felt scattered.
I opened my mouth to say something, to call him back, but no words came out. Axel had already turned around and walked away, his steps deliberate and unyielding. I stood there, frozen in place, unable to move or stop him.
A heavy sigh escaped me as I sank onto a nearby bench, my thoughts swirling. The weight of his words lingered, leaving an uncomfortable ache in their wake. I stared at the floor, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar feeling that had settled in my chest.
Had I attached too quickly? Maybe he had, too—at least for a moment. It all felt like a whirlwind, a connection that had sparked so suddenly and burned out just as fast. I pressed my palms together, trying to steady myself and figure out how to let go of something that hadn't even begun.
I sat still for a moment, trying to collect myself. I reminded myself that crying or stressing over a boy who thought it was okay to toy with someone's feelings wasn't worth it. Just as I started to steel my resolve, a chuckle broke the silence.
Looking up, I saw Kwon leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused expression. I rolled my eyes and stood, ready to walk past him, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my way.
'Heartbroken?' he asked, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. His attempt at puppy dog eyes made my annoyance spike even higher.
I pushed against him, but he didn't even flinch, instead bursting into laughter.
'That's cute,' he said, finally calming down and giving my shoulder a playful pat. I stood silently, my irritation already at its peak.
'I heard everything that guy said,' he added casually, his tone shifting slightly. His words made me bite the inside of my cheek, discomfort creeping in. I didn't like the idea of anyone eavesdropping on such a moment, especially not someone like Kwon.
I took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm myself.
'Move, Kwon,' I said firmly, brushing past him and walking out of the locker room. I could still feel his eyes fixed on my back, but I ignored the weight of his stare and continued toward our team's locker room.
Inside, I found Sam, Devon, Hawk, and Robby sitting together. They were deep in conversation, their energy noticeably lighter than mine.
'Did you hear the news?' Devon asked excitedly, his eyes practically lighting up.
I tilted my head to the side, confused, as I walked to the nearest locker and began putting my things away.
'No?' I replied, my curiosity piqued.
Devon's enthusiasm was clear, and Sam and Robby seemed just as thrilled. Hawk, on the other hand, looked far less amused, sitting silently with a faint scowl. His expression was enough to make me wonder what exactly this "news" could be.
'So, Miguel is back in Los Angeles, right? Kenny is taking his place,' Devon said cheerfully, practically bouncing in her seat.
'Oh, that's awesome news!' I replied, matching her excitement. Despite my happiness for Miguel, a flicker of worry for his mother crossed my mind. 'When will he arrive?' I added, glancing at Sam, who seemed just as eager to hear more.
As Devon started talking again, I reached for my phone, pulling it out to quickly text Miguel. Hey, is everything alright with your mom? I stared at the screen for a second before pressing send, hoping to hear good news soon.
Almost immediately after sending the message, my phone buzzed with a response. Everything is alright, thanks for asking, and good luck, Miguel's reply read. I let out a sigh of relief, the tension in my chest easing slightly. At least one worry had been lifted, and I was glad to know he and his family were doing okay.
I sat down and leaned back, letting my eyes drift shut for a moment, hoping to clear my mind or maybe even steal a few minutes of rest. But the weight of what had happened with Axel lingered, refusing to let me relax. The memory of his cold words and the way he walked away without looking back gnawed at me, twisting into an uneasy knot inside me.
'I'm going to the training room,' I murmured quietly, standing up and grabbing my water bottle. My teammates were still deep in conversation, so I slipped out unnoticed, grateful for a moment alone.
The training room was empty when I arrived, and the sight of the silent, open space was a relief. The quietness felt like a balm to my frayed nerves, and I welcomed the solitude. Setting my water bottle down in the corner, I began moving through a series of taka drills. Each strike and kick became a release, a way to channel the emotions swirling inside me.
The repetition of the movements steadied me, grounding me in their familiar rhythm. For the first time since the conversation with Axel, I felt some of the weight begin to lift. The stress and confusion didn't completely disappear, but with every precise move, I could feel my mind slowly clearing, piece by piece.
After the event, our team ended up ranking second. The Iron Dragons claimed first place, while Tiger Strike secured third. This outcome meant that Cobra Kai, unfortunately, had to leave Barcelona. The news shocked me, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for Tory. She had worked so hard to get her team to this level, and it felt unfair for it to end this way.
Later, as I walked into the hotel lobby, I saw Tory sitting with her luggage, waiting with an air of quiet resignation. It was clear she was preparing to leave. Just then, an announcement came over the hotel's intercom, instructing all participants to gather in the lobby for an important update.
Curiosity buzzed through the crowd as everyone assembled. The room quieted as Gunther Braun, the head of the tournament, stepped forward to deliver the news. His expression was serious, commanding everyone's full attention.
'We have received credible information that members of the Tiger Strike team used performance-enhancing drugs during the tournament,' he announced, his voice grave. A collective gasp spread through the room, followed by murmurs of shock and disbelief.
Gunther continued, 'As a result, Tiger Strike has been disqualified, and their rankings nullified. This adjustment means Cobra Kai will retain their place in the tournament.'
The announcement hit like a bolt of lightning. Cobra Kai, instead of being eliminated, could now remain in the competition.
On the surface, I felt genuine happiness for Tory. She had given her all to this competition, and she deserved to see it through. But deep down, I couldn't ignore the anxiety creeping in. Cobra Kai was back in the running, and I knew all too well how formidable they could be as opponents. Their return wasn't just a stroke of luck for them—it was a reminder that the path ahead was about to get even more challenging.
I glanced over at Tory, and to my surprise, she smiled at me. Her teammates were cheering loudly, celebrating their unexpected chance to stay in the competition. Despite the chaos around her, Tory seemed calm, her expression soft with relief.
Turning my head, I caught Demetri rolling his eyes, clearly unimpressed by the situation. Hawk, on the other hand, looked furious, his jaw clenched tightly and his arms crossed as he glared toward the Cobra Kai group. Our senseis stood nearby, their expressions a mix of stress and unease. It was clear they weren't thrilled with the announcement either; this development added more pressure to an already intense situation.
The atmosphere felt stifling, the noise and tension overwhelming. Needing a break, I decided to step outside for some fresh air. Without saying a word, I slipped out of the building and started walking.
The cool air was a welcome relief as I wandered toward a nearby grocery store. The quiet of the streets contrasted sharply with the buzzing energy I had just left behind. Once inside the store, I browsed the aisles absentmindedly, grabbing something small to eat. It wasn't much, but the act of doing something mundane helped calm my mind, even if only for a moment.
Sitting on a random bench in the park, I tore off a piece of my croissant, savoring the flaky pastry as I let the quiet surroundings ease some of my stress. The fresh air and serene atmosphere helped clear my mind, if only a little. Tomorrow was the semi-finals, and I knew I needed to be completely focused and calm to give my best performance.
As I took another bite, my phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen and saw a notification—Kwon from Cobra Kai has followed you. I rolled my eyes, unimpressed. Of course, he'd find a way to insert himself into my day.
Before I could put my phone away, another notification caught my attention: a message request. It was from Zara.
Curious, I hesitated for a moment before accepting the request. Almost immediately, her message popped up. We need to meet up as soon as possible.
Her words were short and cryptic, making me frown. What could she possibly want to discuss, and why the urgency? Whatever it was, I had a feeling it wasn't something I could ignore.
Sure, when do you have time? I quickly typed and hit send. Not even a moment later, Zara replied: I have time now or later at the club.
I frowned. The thought of going to a loud, crowded club didn't appeal to me—I needed rest, especially with the semi-finals tomorrow. Instead, I texted back, suggesting we meet at Parc de la Ciutadella. The response came almost immediately: she liked my message, confirming she'd meet me there.
I leaned back on the bench, finishing off the rest of my croissant. The peace didn't last long, though, as I suddenly felt a pat on my shoulder. Startled, I turned around only to see Kwon standing there, a smug grin plastered across his face.
I let out a deep sigh, rolling my eyes at his intrusion, hoping he'd take the hint that I wasn't in the mood for his antics. Instead, he just laughed and casually plopped down next to me.
'Aw, did Axel leave my poor Y/n all alone?' he teased, his tone dripping with mock sympathy.
I shot him a cold, unimpressed glare. 'Just leave,' I said, my voice sharp.
Kwon held his hands up in mock defense, clearly enjoying my irritation. To my annoyance, he stayed planted in place, looking far too amused.
As I reached for the last piece of my croissant, he snatched it out of my hand with a mischievous grin and stood up.
'Thanks for the snack,' he said, walking off without a care in the world.
I clenched my fists, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from yelling something back at him. The only consolation was that he was finally gone.
'I see you're juggling two boys at once.'
Startled, I looked up from my phone to see Zara standing there, her expression a mix of teasing and seriousness.
'What do you mean by two boys at once?' I asked, genuinely confused.
She sighed, crossing her arms. 'It's obvious, even from a mile away, that boy from Cobra Kai likes you.' She gestured vaguely, then pulled out her phone, snapping a picture of the fountain in front of us as if this were just a casual chat.
I furrowed my brows, unsure where she was going with this.
'You know... Axel told me about you,' she began. 'That first day we got here, when you bumped into him, he mentioned you. He said you caught his eye.' She glanced at me to gauge my reaction but didn't pause long enough for me to respond.
'I didn't believe him at first,' she continued. 'I didn't really want him to fall for someone, especially not an opponent. I've known him since high school, and I can tell you—he didn't exactly have a social life back then. He never really experienced liking someone, let alone pursuing them.'
She paused, looking more thoughtful now. 'But then today, he told me about what happened yesterday. And... well, I saw his lock screen. It's a picture of you.'
I blinked in surprise, not sure what to say.
'That's when I thought, okay, maybe he really does like you,' Zara admitted. 'But just after the announcement earlier, he told me he said something harsh to you—about not wanting to know you. He regrets it, by the way. And now he's asked me to talk to you about it.'
I listened carefully, trying to process everything. Zara's voice softened. 'Look, I know this is probably a lot, but Axel isn't a bad guy. He's just... inexperienced. And a little scared, I think.'
For a moment, we sat in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't exactly easy, either. I could feel her waiting for me to say something, but I didn't know where to start.
Finally, Zara broke the silence. 'You have three choices here. I know two of them,' she said, leaning back slightly.
'The first,' she continued, counting on her fingers, 'is that you talk to him, work things out, and become this epic, soulmate, love-of-your-life couple with a fairytale future and all that.' She waved her hand dramatically, clearly poking fun but also being sincere.
'The second option is that you just decide you don't want anything to do with him. You let it go, cut the cord, and move on.'
I tilted my head slightly, processing her words. 'What about the third option?' I asked.
She sighed, shrugging as if it were obvious. 'That's the one you have to figure out for yourself,' she said simply.
I looked down at the ground, the weight of her words settling over me. I didn't have an answer yet, but I knew I had to decide soon.
'And don't get Axel wrong, Y/n,' Zara said, her tone soft but firm. 'He just... doesn't really know how everything works. He's figuring it out. And honestly, I didn't expect you two to work out when he first mentioned you. You're such different people.'
She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. 'When he told me you caught his eye, I decided to pay more attention to how you act. Don't get me wrong, I'm not some creepy stalker or anything,' she said with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
'But you remind me of a golden retriever,' she said with a teasing grin. 'And while Axel's not quite a black cat, he's more like a doberman.' Her laughter was awkward but genuine, as if she was trying to make sense of her own analogy.
I raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a small smile. 'So you're comparing us to dogs now?' I asked, mildly amused by her unexpected metaphor.
'Basically, yeah,' she said with a sheepish shrug. 'But what I mean is, you two are so different. We've always known Axel to keep to himself—he's never been the kind of person to share his feelings. At least, not until the past few days when he started asking me for advice. You should've seen him when he asked me to bring you those water bottles—he was blushing so hard it was like he turned into a different person.'
Zara smiled warmly. 'I just want you to know that I'm genuinely happy for you both. I really hope you rethink everything I've said because I think there's something special here.'
She stood up, brushing her hands off and glancing at the fountain. I looked up at her, surprised when she leaned down and hugged me gently.
'It's going to be okay, Y/n,' she said softly. 'Don't stress too much about it.'
Before walking off, she turned and blew a quick kiss in my direction, her usual playful attitude peeking through. I waved at her, unable to find the right words to respond.
Once she was gone, I sighed and sank back onto the bench behind me. My mind was swirling with everything she'd said. I sat there for a while, staring at the fountain, trying to figure out what I should do next. The decision wasn't going to be easy.
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rosyhoneydew · 4 hours ago
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9-1-1 8a Coda
Buck shows up to the little soiree that Eddie is hosting the night before he leaves for Texas. The 118 (et. al) is there along with some other familiar faces. Eddie's old coworkers from dispatch are there, Josh and Linda, and Carla are there. Tommy's there.
It's a good night, it's bittersweet, but everyone seems to be focused on remembering the good, the funny, the sweet times, rather than thinking about the goodbye to come. There are a few hijinks that come with Buck begging everyone there to not let him be alone in a room with Tommy. I don't know what I'll say to him if we're left alone. He's not mad, it's the opposite more than anything. Left alone, Buck's worried he'll beg, plead, bargain, for the chance to get back what they'd had. He's not sure he'll survive it with dignity intact.
It works, for the most part. Hen and Chimney take on the brunt of the work, keeping the two of them separately occupied enough that there are only a couple of close calls, once in the hallway by the bathroom, and once when Buck goes to grab more champagne from the fridge. It's at the end of the night that there's no helping it. Buck and Tommy both stay. They take down streamers and collect stray glasses strewn around the living room. They turn down the music and stuff trash in a bag.
It's nearing 2 AM when the three of them drop down onto Eddie's sofa. There's a moving company coming tomorrow to pack it all away. It's the last time they'll do this. They're quiet for a long minute. Eddie doesn't have to ask, but he does anyway, Am I doing the right thing?
It's not a question Buck or Tommy can answer, it's hardly a question another parent could answer. Buck tries anyway, I think you've gotta find that out. I don't know if this'll fix things with Chris or not, but, he chances a glance at Tommy, you've gotta know when something's worth fighting for. What could be more worth it than Chris?
What if he doesn't want me there?
Tommy speaks this time, Then you know you've always got a home here, he meets Buck's gaze, You know that you have people who will be here no matter what. Shit may happen but, we're not going anywhere.
They pack up not long after that, Buck promises to be back early to help the movers and see him off. Tommy tells Eddie to Keep working on your knee strikes, then puts a hand on his shoulder, Gonna miss you, man, don't be a stranger.
Eddie smiles and thanks the both of them before turning back into his house, the house. The moon is glowing bright, a half-crescent, and the walk that Buck and Tommy take to their cars is silent but for their footfalls.
Buck feels the slightest brush of a pinky against his own as they walk.
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kwillow · 2 days ago
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Mail time. Theo clearly isn't the best candidate to lecture people on "good manners" but that's not going to stop him.
Also using this as a header for more LORE RAMBLES: THEO EDITION, because again I have more interesting asks about Theo than I can answer with drawings -- so REAMS OF WORDS it is!
Questions and answers under the cut...
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Well, Theo isn’t terribly fond of the guy. He’s never met him, of course, but from his research into Old Kingdom history, he thinks of Ambroys as a conceited, shallow, disloyal, cowardly liar – and he’s not exactly wrong, ha.
If they met in the past, when Ambroys was his cocky, younger self, I think Ambroys would take advantage of Theo’s poor social skills and unpopularity by bullying him for some cheap points with other people who would find amusement in that. Ambroys wouldn’t have much use for him otherwise. Theo would spend far more time seething about Ambroys and plans for his revenge on that POMPOUS POPINJAY than Ambroys would spend thinking about Theo at all.
If they met in modern times – well that’s something we’ll address eventually, but Theo and Ambroys would not get along much better. Present-day Ambroys does not like mages one bit. Also, he is quite used to being literally worshipped. A little hater like Theo would not be looked upon kindly.
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Thank you!! Now you too are present in a lore dump!
Theo is indeed a fan of the performing arts, and art in general (though he is, predictably, very particular in his tastes). Opera and such was performed during Ambroys’ time, and much of it was likely lost during the apocalyptic era between the time of the Old Kingdoms and the modern day, but I imagine some scant examples of the genre (and traditional plays by the likes of Furry Shakespeare, because Shakespeare is one of those people who just exists in every universe no matter how bizarre) would still survive into the Theo’s time.
Theo’s hometown of Northcrest would be too small and rural to have a real theatre, so experiencing “proper” performances would be rare treats for him, when he followed his mother on business excursions to the rich districts of Ironfrost. I love that you picked up on the fact that he would want his own private box, haha. He wants to observe, not be observed!
You’re right that musicals would probably still be in their vaudeville and burlesque era, and Theo would find them to be distasteful, vulgar pap suited only for the soft, feeble minds of the unwashed masses, not a refined intellectual like himself. (Which is funny because I think a real-world modern-day Theo would like musicals because in some ways, he is a theater kid without the charisma or confidence to actually perform.) While his mother did not enjoy theatre to the same extent he did (her tastes were more in feats of choreographry and human/anthro excellence like ballet), they would bitch about the decline of society together if they saw a poster for one of those terrible, gaudy cabaret catastrophes. In general, Theo hates anything modern and likes anything old-fashioned, and that shifts according to the decade he lives in. An Amaranthine Theo would hate swing music, but a real-world modern-day Theo would like it. Embarrassing!
Also, he will memorize and quote his favorite soliloquies at people for the faintest of reasons. Don’t test him.
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No, I don’t think Hyden has strong enough arms or a sturdy enough back to lift an entire person, even one as little as Theo. Hyden might be large but he’s not as powerful as his height and bulk make him look. I think even Theo is more physically adept than Hyden is (and that’s not saying much).
Also, while he would learn to tolerate it from someone like Hyden (in the same way your cat might begrudgingly tolerate you grabbing their little feet), Theo does not like being picked up by people. I can speak from experience than when you’re a short person, people love to pick you up randomly to establish dominance and it’s not a very dignified experience. Theo has a hard enough time being taken seriously even without being lugged about like a wheezing sack of flour.
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Theo would be the first to inform you he is not the person to consult on romantic matters. At the same time, he would still give his advice: stop being a fatuous little fool and turn your efforts to matters of greater importance, like work or supporting your family or collecting every edition of your favorite encyclopedia or hitting your head against a wall. All would be better ways to spend your energy.
(I think you’re alluding to a person with a crush on him – God knows why such a person would exist in his universe – asking him for romantic advice, but I feel compelled to specify that the message he’d give a man seeking instructions on how to deal with a lady would be akin to “GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER”)
(Or maybe you mean someone Theo has a crush on? Well, the answer would be the same. Theo isn't duplicitous enough or proud enough to try to swindle someone towards viewing him as a romantic prospect. But he sure wouldn't suggest they get with someone else. NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BE IN LOVE. STOP IT, HE SAYS.)
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Yes, those are self-inflicted injuries. He’s had a compulsion to bite and scratch himself ever since he was a kid. Sometimes as a punishment, sometimes as a ritual to quell distressing thoughts, sometimes out of the need to replace distressing sensations and events that are out of his control with one that is in his control, no matter how painful.
He does not particularly value his body nor its integrity. However, he is aware the scars are alarming, and finds them somewhat embarrassing reminders of his flaws in self-regulation. He deals with both the sight of the scars and the urge to harm by wearing his gloves, which is something he started doing in his late teens – they cover the marks and help redirect him by replacing the sensation of flesh with fabric when he goes to bite down.
On your question about Theo’s body-image: no, he does not care for how he looks. He likes that his eyes are grey (like mother’s) and that his fur is monochrome (like mother’s), and if pressed he might say the eyebrows aren’t bad, except for the parts where he’s pulled the hair out of them, but that’s it. He hates that he’s not just short but dwarfish, he does not like his heavy-set build, he would not choose to be born a rat, he despises his face, his teeth repulse him, he at least can make peace with the fact that he can’t grow facial hair because he’d never want a mustache like his father’s but it’s still somewhat emasculating, and on and on and on with the insecurities. He definitely feels physically inferior to other males. Your average man is not only much, much taller than him (and the world is cruel to a short king), but stronger and more classically virile as well. But he makes the best of that by dismissing those physical qualities as consolation prizes afforded to males who are obviously inferior to him intellectually, morally, and spiritually. He doesn’t care for brutes, but he doesn’t highly value machismo anyway… He thinks of himself as a gentleman whose best qualities reside in his mind and actions. A man who is reedy and petite but smarter or more charismatic than him is much more threatening to his ego than the bulkiest bruiser. (However, he will still try to fight both for dominance, either physically or verbally, and probably lose.)
Theo is highly offended and disgusted by nudity, both other’s and his own. Even states of mild undress are distressing to him, hence why he looks away when buttoning Hyden’s shirt. He’s willing to stomach some discomfort when it comes to helping a loved one, but only if it’s strictly necessary. He would pointedly not look and scold someone, even someone he was more comfortable with, if they were “too underdressed,” and freak out if they came into his vicinity in the nude. I think it would take years of gradual desensitization to lessen his negative reactions to nudity. It’s not just him being fussy, it borders on a phobia.
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(Haha this shows how long I sit on asks before I get around to answering them SORRY...!!!!)
I don’t talk about it a lot because while the character’s sexual orientations do inform their lives and development, romance and sex are not usually at the top of my priority list when it comes to my stories… but I’ve alluded and mentioned directly that Theo is “canonically” bisexual (always feels weird to say “canon” about my imaginary friends, ha). But he is in denial/in the closet about it. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware of the concept of “bisexuality”, nor would that exact label exist in his world, so it’s not like he would identify that way even if he wasn’t repressing hardcore.
He is revolted by sex and intimacy, but that’s more due to his psychological baggage, his perception of his parent’s relationship and his cultural mores than something necessarily inborn or inherent to him.
(Hyden is actually Also Straight, possibly even straighter than Ambroys if we’re measuring by “creator’s admittance that character may be bi-curious one day.” I have a track record.)
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Only if it’s karmic in some way, involving a person or persons he’s already predisposed to hating. Granted, dying of one’s own stupidity would be a form of justice in his eyes, but there’s limitations to that. Hearing about, say, an incident like Nutty Putty cave would not be amusing even though he would argue it’s the cave explorer’s “own fault” for going in there because it was such a gruesome and prolonged end, far outweighing the punishment Theo would find fair for such hubris. Of course, if the same cave explorer bullied him in prep school, then yes, it would be hilarious.
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I don’t have a character named Herbert, so I am assuming you mean Theo here, from context. :’D
I’d like to draw Theo practicing his fencing some day! It’s on The List along with, er, fifty other drawings, ha. There’s just so much I need to make and so little time…
But besides that, Theo is not a particularly sporty guy. He doesn’t tend to enjoy competitive sports, either participating or watching. Physically he’s just not suited to them, and his schoolboy days did not endear him to them.
He does enjoy taking walks and admiring picturesque landscapes. He also hunted with his mother. One of the duties of the Norths is (or was, before he started shirking all his duties to focus entirely on his madness quest) to eliminate monstrous predators lurking on the outskirts of their territory before they could terrorize the mundane locals. Mages can sense magic, and thus are more capable of tracking down and felling corrupt magical beasts than your average person. Also, sometimes one wants a pheasant for dinner on special occasions. So, he grew up learning to hunt, and he’s decent with a rifle. He doesn’t go out to do much anymore, though. His mother’s death and subsequent self-imposed isolation exacerbated his already present issues with social phobia and paranoia, so he doesn’t feel safe outside his house. Someone could see him out there, and Something could happen. (He isn’t sure what exactly, but surely nothing good.)
During the course of Amaranthine’s story he is, of course, forced to go outside again and travel, so he’ll rediscover his hobby of killing animals again. …Good for him. I suppose.
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(This is in reference to the tags I put on my post of Theo's romance meme: #ok one piece of commentary: brain problems + highly repressed upbringing = where i put theo on the kinky slider. it had to be there #you should think less '50 shades' and more '50 year old guys waxing poetic about quicksand scenes in old adventure films' for that one #he's not a quicksand guy. but that's the vibe.)
Hahaha, I appreciate your curiosity, but I’m not sure if it’s a terrific idea to share Theo’s “quicksand” equivalents. Alas, I don’t want to encourage the perception that my characters exist to be romantic or sexual wish-fulfillment, instead of the dysfunctional little narrative fidget toys they are, by going too in-depth too often on their hypothetical sex lives. Also, I get my (un)fair share of fetish-mining asks, and if I mention certain kinks, the senders of those asks might think they can wheedle that kind of smut art from me, which… is not the case, even if I did like the things Theo is partial to. Frankly, I don’t have time to draw smut art when I have so many comics of my characters angsting at each other that I ought to be drawing instead!!!
Anyway, complaining over. But I do know what Theo’s “interests” are, and don’t worry, they are suitably cringe. I find amusement in giving embarrassing proclivities to all my favorite characters, even if it will never come up in their stories. It keeps them humble.
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The Theo befriending scenarios are becoming more elaborate…!
Magic can’t really do that in Amaranthine (it’s more limited than a lot of people think)! But even if you could, I think Theo might realize something was off eventually. Granted, he is blind to a lot of manipulation when he trusts someone, and for his own stupid reasons he trusts Hyden, so that alone would provide cover for some time. Being nice to him in Hyden’s guise might even fulfill some boyhood dreams of his, so that helps too. Still, I don’t think anyone but Hyden could manage to act like Hyden forever.
Theo abhors liars, manipulators, and traitors (I know, this is very funny considering I just talked about how Theo likes Hyden – again, Theo is not a great judge of character). While he would be mortified at his own gullibility, it’s not like he’d spare you any judgment for being the one to take advantage of his hospitality in the first place.
So, in attempting to befriend him, you would have 1) caused harm to someone he has charged himself with protecting by kidnapping Hyden, 2) committed the sin of deceiving him and 3) wounded his ego by exposing a huge vulnerability in his psychological armor. These are not crimes he is likely to excuse. Among Theo’s many faults are his capacity for spite and appetite for disproportionate vengeance. In other words, he would want to hurt you very, very badly.
Anyway, in summation, this is not a great way to try and win Theo’s affection. If befriending something hostile is what you’re after, I’d recommend purchasing a pet cobra or something, it would be more rewarding and less difficult to manage.
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Ooh, this is another one of those “it depends” sort of questions… an Amaranthine Theo is completely unsuited for parenthood because he is just totally off his rocker and devoted to an impossible, nature-impugning, corruptive madness quest, so there’s not really much space left in his brain for any of the tasks involved in parenting.
Also, how well and in what way he would approach parenting would depend on if he has a partner and who they are, if the kid is biological (and therefore an extension of the North line) or adopted (and therefore might be spared some of those expectations), and what the kid or kids are like.
But, I’ll try to speak generally. He does put an importance on family so he would not be neglectful. In fact, I think he’d tend towards being smothering, way too over-protective. He would have high expectations for their academic career (despite flopping in his own) and would be upset if his children didn’t share his interest in intellectual pursuits. He lacks a lot of knowledge about life, and so he wouldn’t be able to pass that on to his children, despite desiring that they be self-sufficient and capable. He would try and keep them from being romantically involved until they could marry, which he wouldn’t think would be difficult considering how he himself is, but I think he would be disappointed and frustrated by the fact that most people (and therefore probably his kids) aren’t so averse to macking on other teenagers in their school days. His tendency towards being neurotic and temperamental would be an issue, and I think even if he tried to control his explosive tendencies around his children, they’d still pick up on it and be afraid of his moods. I think, with his immature development, he would have a lot of difficulty not descending to a teenager’s level of petty sniping if his teenage child did what teenagers do and started challenging him.
So… this is not painting a rosy picture. Don’t get me wrong, he’d try his best, and he would aim to be a good, supportive, and loving parent, but the man has issues. He wouldn’t be perfect. He might not even be good. He is Theo, after all.
Speaking of parenthood, let's get into some...
Family Matters
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NO, they did not like each other. Their passive-aggression is as genuine as it is petty. They were the most divorced people to still technically be married.
Love was never in the cards for these two. The marriage was purely strategic, and all parties were aware of that. Leonard would have liked to have his wife love him, if only because it would be much more pleasant and convenient for him, but it wasn’t a requirement. He could seek love elsewhere if need be. He was always an opportunistic fellow that way.
Jo never held fondness for Leonard, either before or after their engagement. The marriage was at the behest of her father, and Jo had always put her duties to her family line above whatever selfish wants she might have had. She was willing to tolerate Leonard, which is about the best you could expect from her. However, he tried her patience too often to maintain even that level of camaraderie.
Leonard liked how Jo looked, and he liked the idea he had of her personality. Because Jo was deferential to her father, he assumed she would be similarly deferential to him. Hahaha. Not so. After her father passed, she inherited the Barony and thus, in her mind, the right to dictate the use of her family’s assets, the alliances she would forge with her noble connections, and the future of her estate. All her plans conflicted sharply with Leonard’s ideas of what he was going to do with the North’s influence, and he thought himself the keeper of their assets by patriarchal right. They clashed often and they both were too proud, power-hungry, and conniving to reconcile.
Leonard stayed because giving up the marriage would be giving up his avenue to social power. If he wanted to appear like he held the reins to potential allies and business connections, he had to stay in the manor, stay in Northcrest, and keep that ring on his finger. But he did take a very “I just live here” attitude to his home life. Jo stayed because her family’s long-held values maintained that it was her duty to do so, and to falter in her duties would be a permanent black stain on her good name. Also, it proved her superiority to the clearly weak-willed, dissolute Leonard, and that was an ego boost she wouldn’t pass up.
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AHAHAH. THEO PEGGED FOR INBRED.
Yes, well, as you intuited, the Norths are one of those inbred noble families, like those you mentioned.
They’re a mage bloodline, and in the old days, mage nobility was a separate form of titled aristocracy from mundane nobility. Legitimate heirs had to have magical ability. If a mundane Viscount produced a mundane child, that was the end of the line of inheritance. Hence, noble mages in the Old Kingdoms only married other mages, to try to ensure their offspring could inherit their titles. While not all practiced inbreeding, it was a practice some families employed to try to “enhance” the magical ability and purity of their line, or just keep their wealth and power within their family (the Hyden family is another infamous example).
However, most magical lineages were wiped out during the fall of the Old Kingdoms, and those that survived were scattered to remote areas of the continent. Very few mages still exist, and the North family is one of the only lineages to survive “intact” to the modern day. They cling to their family’s history and their magical bloodline as their source of power and would never risk a union with a mundane. Like many other old traditions best left in the past, the Norths clung to the old ways, marrying within their line, inbreeding like an endangered species (which I suppose you could argue they were).
Of course, as the North’s numbers declined, the marriages shifted from pairing distant relatives to being cousin-cousin pairs. That level of consanguinity isn’t great for your offspring’s health or fertility, as it turns out, and further diminished their numbers (and options) until it came time for Jocosa to make their dying lineage limp along for another generation. By the time she was of age, there were no branches on the family tree left to harvest a husband from. Thus, the Norths needed to go further afield of the stagnant gene pool they’d been festering in.
Because of that, Theo is arguably a bit less inbred than previous generations of his family. The damage was already done, though. The fruits of the North’s unfortunate marriage practices have garnered them a deserved reputation for weak bodies, sick minds and dying young, and so far, Theo is two-for-three. We’ll see if he gets the triple.
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Related to the above: if you haven’t realized already, the Norths are fucking freaks. Especially in the modern day of Amaranthine, caring about matching species in a marriage is seen as hyper-traditionalist, bizarre and absurdly impractical. But, well, the Norths are all those things. Jocosa’s parents were a stoat-stoat pair, their parents were stoat-stoat, and so on up the family tree, with maybe some rare exceptions where you might find a few polecats or minks scattered about in amongst the other long pointy-faced carnivores. Jocosa’s parents really would have preferred to have another mustelid marriage rather than wed their daughter to a rat.
But, that was a preference, and magical ability was a necessity. When Jocosa needed to marry, there were no other magical stoats, weasels, or even an otter for them to choose from.
That’s when an opportunistic young rat caught wind that there was a beautiful noble girl in need of a husband, just when he needed a rise in social station. Leonard was reasonably wealthy, and more importantly charming, quick-witted, and not afraid of lying his ass off to close a deal. He befriended Jocosa’s father and was able to delicately pick his way around or find loopholes in the Norths’ strict rules for marriage. Importantly for the Norths, Leonard had magical ability, albeit extremely weakly. You might say he was a sparkler while Jocosa was a flamethrower (in this analogy, in his prime, Hyden was an atomic bomb). Not ideal, but Leonard had enough magic to count as a mage for heir-producing purposes. Ultimately, Jocosa’s parents saw Leonard as the best option in a bad situation, rat or no. Preferable to dying out altogether, at least.
...
AND ON THAT, UH, HAPPY NOTE: thanks for reading and thank you all as always for sending questions about my little guy and being interested in him, even with all his slimy, weird, unpleasant foibles and flaws!
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