#were so proud of calebs self control

[arrirose]

This comes down to pure hubris, and sorry but Laerryn wins that fight

World Wizard Entertainment Final: FUCKING TROUBLE

(And is Vince McSam in the room with us now?)

Well folks, this is it. The final.

We've lost some good wizards along the way. Also some evil ones. Probably some neutral ones as well, I dunno, this wasn't the alignment quiz. We've campaigned, cat-fought, and cried crocodile tears for who was the most wizard, who was the strongest wizard, and sometimes, who just made the funniest argument.

And in this last round, we've had to say goodbye—for now, but not forever—to our champion, our guiding star, our last hope....

A moment of silence... for Veth's Big Naturals.

But do you know what? It's what she and her huge, wizardly knockers (and, maybe, somehow, also Cerrit's roguely big naturals?) would've wanted. Her boy, Caleb Widogast, in the final round, up against the Calamity's dearest heart of hearts, Laerryn Coramar-Seelie.

Pfffft, alright, enough of that heartfelt fuckery.

There's no crying in wizardry, as they say! If you want to see previous polls, rankings, and methodology, please check the tag here. Otherwise, let's get to the trash talk!

(But for real, again, keep it weird and funny, not just... mean. Contrary to popular belief, people can in fact tell the difference. This is for fun.)

Our final round match-up, wizard to wizard:

So come, one and all, and vote for the last wizard remaining! Laerryn, give it your best shot. And Caleb, AVENGE THOSE TOTS!

[bulbtree]

Have you ever heard of the Wittebane brothers from The Owl House? I think the story of Samekichi and Sal (especially in the manga and the reboot-exclusive videos) would still make sense even if they were replaced with Caleb and Philip.

Spoilers for TOH i suppose:

I've heard about Witterbane brothers, i think in core, Caleb and Same are somewhat same, they both learned to be selfless and to chase higher goals in life then harm others. Caleb isn't dependant of Philip like Same is of Sal tho, but Same was very young when he started losing his brother.

Philip and Shiranami have surface similarities with secret indentity, being extremely selfish and the curse but are quite the opposite, again coming from their childhood difference. Everything Philip does, he chose to do to himself willingly. He changed name because it got bad rep, he cursed himself to gain abilities, and he was taught to be selfish early on. Shiranami on the other hand has very little if any agency on every front. Everything happening in the game is driven by the curse that affects anyone and everyone who expresses strong negative emotions and bends them into monsters. And puts them under control of a god-princess, at that. Given his self perception and condition, and becuase he couldn't live like that anymore, he had to run away and switch indentity. Note that he is very upset about his real indentity, labels it, hides it and rejects it (manga), while Philip is very, very proud of it. Philip is cunning and calculated while Sal is just resourceful liar.

Despite constantly claiming he will, Sal kills Same in 1 out of 3 timelines. He keeps him alive during entire Normal End 1 as prisoner, and he choses to aim blade at Wadanohara in true end, meaning it is not his first choice. I think Philip would do that too if he had timeline options, so that is interesting AU. Caleb imprisoned? Samekichi clones? TOH AU sounds like very fun idea.

[saphirered]

hey I saw you said you like writing Molly!! I’m some episodes I notices that Taliesin bursts out laughing really loudly as Molly but maybe in actuality Molly considers that his ugly laugh? He’s always trying to be smooth and laughs as attractively as he can but can you write a reader x Molly where he just lets out a huge belly laugh and snorts and gets embarrassed but the reader thinks it’s super cute? Sorry if that was really long!! And thank you! ☺️

Thank you for your request. I hope this one’s to your liking. Please enjoy ��� 

Mollymauk is in control of his charm. He knows exactly what he’s doing and manages to utilise it as a weapon when needed. Charm a guard? He’s a master of suave talking. Scaring off an old fool looking at him or you funny? He’s not afraid to live up to the judgmental stereotypes around his infernal bloodline for a moment and send them running for their mothers. You have had many laughs when it comes to the latter. 

His laugh, oh how you love it. A soft chuckle at a joke, a snort or covering his mouth to stifle it, each of them charming just like him. You were sure you’d seen all the laughs of Mollymauk Tealeaf over the time you’d known him. How wrong you were….

You’re all seated around a table in a local tavern after a long travel day to your destination you’ve finally made it and now it was time for some relaxing. You decided to share some funny stories of your lives, or well, some of you anyway. Others may perhaps not yet.

“-so there we were, standing behind our barricade with nothing but our steel, a hand full of arrows, provisions for one day and a bloodied cloth to stop the bleeding from one of our compatriots. We had to surrender but we just used the only white cloth we had on that idiot’s bloody nose of all things.” You lean over the table on your elbows telling the story moving around your hands with suspense as they hang onto your words. 

“We look around to see if we have anything else white to wave for surrender. Nothing. Nothing except my brother’s pristine trousers. So he looks down, back at us, back down again and begins to take them off saying: ‘if you wimps wanna surrender you do so but I am neither a wimp nor a loser. To battle.’ He raises to his feet, jumps over the barricade with a battle roar and runs for the enemy. They’re so caught of guard you see, because my brother, idiot he is completely forgot to put on underwear in the morning, he managed to make it past them grab their flag and bring it back to our base and we won!” Everyone around the table laughs, some of them wheezing at the visual, even Caleb is snickering. Molly of course is shaking from the soft chuckles as he takes another sip of his drink. 

“So flapping bits won you a war?” Jester says between laughs sending Beau in another laughing fit.

“A game of capture the flag. But what a grand battle it was!” You take a sip of your own drink. 

“Okay okay okay okay who’s next?” Jester asks as everyone calms down. Nott slams back her drink, takes another sip from her flask for good measure and begins to stand up onto her seat. 

“Listen up here you little shits because do I have a story for you!” She slurs as she begins climbing onto the table. Now this would have been alright had the table not been round. The moment her weight switches from the chair to the table the table flips. drinks and plates spill falling down onto her. There’s a moment of silence.

“Are- are the drinks safe?” Nott screeches from a pile of leftovers, dirty dishes and spilled drinks. Everyone bursts in laughter, including Mollymauk who just breaks completely. This laugh you’ve never heard before, completely unrestrained, cackling a hag would be proud of. It even takes him a hot second to catch his breath wiping away the tears from his eyes. The others didn’t think much of it but even through your own laughter you saw and heard. 

“I think it’s time for you to get some sleep.” Caleb says to Nott as you help her up and set the table upright again. Caleb picks her up and begins carrying Nott to their room as she struggles like a child.

“I can make my own decisions! Another drink!” She screeches until they’re out of sight. 

“Yeah, that’s our cue. Let’s get some shut eye.” Fjord says after putting the last dish on the table and finishing off his drink. Eventually it’s just you and Molly left. 

“‘Are the drinks safe?’” You mimic Nott’s voice laughing to yourself. 

“One forever ingrained in our memories.” He clinks his drink with yours in a ‘cheers’ as you both take a a swing. 

“Not the only thing forever ingrained in memory. You seemed to enjoy that one quite a bit.” Molly looks down and you see him bite his lips for a moment. 

“Not my finest I must admit.” He swirls his drink and you swear you can see a small blush. You must be imagining that one right?

“Perhaps not, but cute no less.” He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow

“Cute? I’m cackling like the Night Hag of Air and Darkness and you call it cute?” Sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

“No need to be embarrassed. Like I said. It’s cute. All your laughs are. I guess I can add this one to the list now too. Don’t hide it. Everyone needs to be a cackling hag every once in a while.” You smile at him. 

“For you? I think I can drop my charming suave self for just a moment and have good cackle. As long as I’m not cackling on my own.” 

“And so we’ll be cackling hags together.” You click your tankards once more as you continue telling ridiculous over the top stories you have experienced and come across bringing you many chuckles and laughs worthy of mentioned hags. From now on Molly would take care not to hide his cackles anymore. Sure he’d still keep his charming chuckles and laughs but no more stifled belly laughs from now on and of course you made it your sacred duty to get those loud bursts of joy out of him whenever you had the chance or when he needed a cheer up. 

[e-one-seven]

(I hate being a literature student. Just know that literature students have a bad habit of over-analyzing stuff, and apparently D&D games are not exceptions.)

Normally I don't talk about ships. I think that everybody is free to ship whoever character they want with who they want and I am no one to judge them. Especially if the characters in question are from a live role playing game and one of the ships in question involves a couple controlled by a couple who is married IRL. But this one. Oh boy. Laura Bailey is an absolute beast and she deserves all the respect in the world if even a fraction of what I think it's happening/going to happen will effectively happen in game.

Fjord kissed Jester. He asked for her permission and he got it. It was beautiful. And I am genuinely freaking out because I knew that was going to happen and it's even worse than I imagined it. Why am I talking about it like it is something bad? Because it's possible that Jester is not ready to be in a relationship right now, and that Jester herself is not aware of it. Let's talk about it from the beginning.

Jester likes Fjord from the beginning of the campaign, we all know that. When Jester met Fjord for the first time, she was a sheltered girl who, in her head, just met the perfect man: a proud and strong sailor who wants to live an adventurous life just like the heroes of her novels, and she easily identified herself as the heroine the hero will inevitably fall in love with. They meet the rest of the Nein, live on their adventures and Jester keeps on acting like she is the Guinevere of her personal love story inside her head, while Fjord is blissfully unaware of what is happening inside the skull of his new friend.

Then Fjord meets Avantika, a mature woman who seems to share many traits and interests with him. Jester is clearly jealous, especially after that they sleep together to seal their alliance. That is also the moment when Jester starts to see Fjord's flaws and she seems to be willing to accept them, which is actually a point in favor for a possible relationship between them. But Fjord is still unaware of what the special attention of the blue tiefling actually means.

Then she meets a real married couple, and she starts to realize that romance is not always like she imagined it was. Nott/Veth and Yeza are married and have a child, and they are not as dependent to each other like the heroes of her novels: Nott does her own things and she is a strong independent woman and Yeza is pretty much the same, they are not allowed to be as intimate as they used to be because of "Nott's condition", but they still love and support each other through and through. And at this point, Jester starts to notice that there is a member of the Mighty Nein that seems to show her that unconditional love and support that Nott and Yeza radiate with every action: Caleb Widogast.

Caleb used to be a stinky wizard, a brash individual who joined the group just because he was too squishy to survive on his own. But ever since they are in Xhorhas, he cleaned himself, he is kinder with everyone and he wants to help her organize the Traveler Con even if the event has nothing to do with him directly. Jester is visibly touched by his newfound beauty and kindness. But he still loves Astrid. He called Jester with her name when they danced together in Hupperdook. And he seems to be interested in Essek Thyless too, so she is probably imagining it. The Mighty Nein travel, grow more powerful, and Fjord manages to set himself free from Uk'utoa's influence and becomes a Paladin of the Wildmother. He finally becomes more similar to the hero Jester imagined he was when he met him for the first time, but she seems to be only minimally bothered by his change. She needs time to think because she feels that something is changing inside her. Fjord might not be the right one after all. Caleb is always there for here with all his support, and she starts to want to be there for him.

Eventually, they stop the war, they defeat a fire god and Caleb sets up wonderful magic and illusions so that the Traveler Con is a success. But then, during the last night of the gathering, something happens and Sehanine, the Moonweaver herself is angry. She is taking Artagan away, and Jester is willing to follow him in the Feywild and share his punishment... but Fjord grabs her and begs her not to go. She has still the Mighty Nein, she has still him. For the first time Fjord is being explicit about his feelings for her. Luckily everything goes well and the Mighty Nein are free to come back to Wildemount... Where she finds out about Caleb's past and his intent to save his friend Eadwulf and his former lover Astrid from Trent Ikithon. They go dance again, Caleb pushes her in Fjord's arms, and the half-orc gives her a present. There is definitely something. But there is Caleb too, but he is too busy trying to deal with his demons to pay attention to her.

Jester meets Astrid and she antagonizes her. She is jealous, she thinks that Astrid is Caleb's ideal woman and she realizes they are not alike at all. She is a talented and ambitious wizard, while she is just Jester, the cleric of an Archfey. Astrid is just like Essek, and Caleb is attracted by Essek. Jester understands if Caleb doesn't like her after all: why should he be interested into a childish cleric whose power is not even her own? They are just very good friends. That's all. He should be back with Astrid and she will support him if that will happen once that she will be free from Trent Ikithon's influence. But Caleb is still so kind, and loving, and supportive... she is really confused about it. But he is kind and loving with all of his friends, so in the end it might not be important.

And then, there is Eiselcross with its weird ancient magic. A magic as dangerous as the one they found in the Happy Fun Ball, which contained a Blue Dragon and a trap that managed to kill Nott without them being able to prevent it. Everything is dangerous and the Mighty Nein realize as the time passes by that not everyone of them could get out of there alive, especially given what and who they are trying to stop. And Jester herself falls into a trap: she is given a vision that confirms to the Mighty Nein that what they feared is true, that the Tomb Takers' objective is to bring an eldritch floating city scary enough to cause a Morkoth into voluntary exile back to Exandria, where it intends to absorb its inhabitants into its hive mind. The price to pay for the vision are 5 years of her life. "Growing old" is different than "growing up", and it happens to her in a matter of seconds. Jester is five years closer to death now, and it is possible that she is lucky they are just five. The minor changes in her appearance are a reminder of what it could have happened if she wasn't lucky, and she has no idea about what else changed about herself and what will change in her personal life and relationships because of that accident. All she knows right now is that these might be her last days alive and she is afraid she might be missing something before her untimely death.

(And she would not be silly to think about it. After all, who they are facing is reminding all of the Mighty Nein that even if they are becoming powerful they are still mortal beings.)

And when she is in the middle of a mild existential crisis and confusion reigns inside her head, Fjord declares. And Jester, still willing to believe that she is her old self, the young woman who left Nicodronas and miraculously met the man of her dreams that will lead her to live an exciting life full of love and adventures, accepts to kiss him. It is very likely that she was not thinking about anything in that moment, but one thing: "If I say yes to Fjord it means that I am still me, right? It is happening because it was supposed to happen from the beginning, because we were supposed to be together."

There is just one little problem: Jester is ignoring the fact that she has changed from the person she used to be back then, and it did not happen because a group of stone statues magically aged her up. There is still something for Fjord, she will never forget him as he is and he will always be her first love. But she has some feelings for Caleb too, and even if she is "a good liar" they might be too strong for her to simply ignoring them. After all, Caleb "I was trained to lie and kill for the Empire" Widogast did an excellent job when he was trying to hide them. There are some clues here and there that hint that Jester might love Caleb as much as he loves her and that she wants him to be happy, even with other people... just like he wants it for her. Add the trauma she is just starting to deal with, and there is almost no way that her current relationship with Fjord is going to evolve into something healthy and angst free right now. This if that kiss was the effective beginning of a serious relationship, and not the promise of a future relationship between them if she will be still available. 

But these are the vibes that the beginning of a relationship between them is giving to me right now, and nothing will be confirmed until Laura Bailey will show up to Talks Machina to talk about it. I am also curious about how she will react when she will see Essek again: when the stakes were not high she used to tease him to be with Caleb... but now she has met Astrid, she might have feelings for him and being in a relationship with another person, and Caleb states that he doesn't trust him. I guess that if she still does, it will be mostly an attempt to show to everyone that nothing changed for her and that she is fine (and that would be a huge step back into her character development, but it was her defense mechanism until the Rumblecusp arc and she is dealing with a lot of serious stuff all together right now).

I'm not saying that the ship is going to die: I'm saying that because of the circumstances behind how it was made official and the relationship between all the character involved, I would say that it is very likely that it will lead to some cute moments, but that it eventually won't last. This is especially true if it will confirmed that Jester has feelings for Caleb too, as feelings for another person are not easy to get rid off, and I am fully expecting Jester to angst and talk to someone about them at some point. She needs to achieve true clarity and accept that she is going to break someone's heart in order to be in a healthy, happy relationship. Because, let's face it, we all imagined Jester would have been much happier if she'd ever entered into a relationship, shouting about it out loud so that everyone know. There is something weird here. So, or either the kiss is a promise, or Jester's heart is not fully into it and this means trouble.

But yes, Laura Bailey promised us that she would have romanced Travis's character and she is doing it. And whatever it will be the final result, she is still a legend for having achieved the impossible once more.

PS: Obviously this post in the end means nothing, as no one owns and knows the full truth behind the intent of these characters but the actors who control them. I just wanted to give my two cents about the question. It's more likely that this development will prevent Jester to suffer from a mental breakdown in Eiselcross instead of causing her to suffer from one, but I tend to over-analyze stuff. Please forgive me for this.

PS2:  As a final note, it would have been the same even if Caleb would have been in Fjord's place, if not even worse: I wrote a post about Caleb in Eiselcross too, and between him and Jester I have no idea of who is the most messed up at the moment. Poor children...

[communicationnskills]

Okay but here’s some food for thought about Lucy undercover:

We all know Lucy has been wanting to be a UC for awhile now, there’s no doubt that this is something she obviously is interested in and wants to test into. But when she was talking with Grey and Harper, you could tell she was very eager to prove herself, and they were very adamant that she didn’t need to. She later gets that under control and sees that she’s actually really good at UC and is proud of herself, but when Nyla has her fake kidnapped, you can also tell she’s still really dealing with some PTSD from her real kidnapping, and it looks like Lucy wanting to go undercover at the moment is actually a response to that trauma. Now I don’t think the show will go that dark, but it looked and felt like, when Lucy realized she would have to be hurt or worse during undercover, that she wanted that, almost like either a self inflicted punishment for being off guard with Caleb or a self inflicted challenge where she goes through something traumatic again but this time she’s prepared and proves herself. Both reasons being a trauma response. Now obviously this is just speculation but looking at that end scene with Lucy and Nyla, just the way Lucy was looking and acting makes me think this, as well as the fact that we never really saw Lucy deal with her experience after that one episode (2x12) and we did see her be triggered after visiting Rosiland in 3x01. So it’s very possible she’s still really dealing with ptsd but has been hiding it very well and her response to this undercover op is based on that. Again just speculation but I think it would be interesting if this was the route the writers were taking. It’s definitely more dark than we are used to from the rookie but if you go back and watch that scene with Lucy and Harper, just watch Lucy’s facial reactions and the way she’s acting. It just feels like it means something more.

Small edit with more thoughts: it could also be a trauma response in the need to prove herself to her family. Her parents have constantly told her that her job is a waste of time and not something they are proud of her for doing. She just wants her parents love and approval and knows she won’t get it. So this over eager attitude towards undercover work also most likely comes from a place of wanting to show her family how good she is at her job. Again, just another response to trauma. So no I don’t feel like Lucy is in the right headspace as of now to be making this decision and to go undercover. If it was 2 years down the road and she was testing into it, that would be a different story, but because of when this is all happening, I think we have to assume she’s only going for it this hard because of her trauma response. Also, as a new P2, she’s already really eager to prove herself a capable cop, so there’s obviously a lot of layers to why she wants this so bad, but I think the main two are her still lingering ptsd and her lack of family support; all boiling down to wanting to prove something that she really doesn’t need to.

Let’s discuss! I’m curious to hear others theories/opinions about this!

[spiderman-homecomeme]

nuts about you

It’s simple. Thirty days. All of November. No nutting allowed. Can Peter survive? A friends/roommates to lovers tale of stupid bets, sabotage, and most important of all, nuts. 

thotumn. day 11. free prompt day finale.

Thank you @spideysmjs​ for organizing this magical month for us!! Because I am TOO impatient, I’m posting this a day early (also to keep my tradition of not posting things at the right time). Enjoy this purely goofy adventure. 

--

Of all of the stupid ideas Peter and Ned have thought of in their ten-plus years of friendship, this one’s up there. 

Easily in the top three. 

No, it’s more than stupid. It’s ridiculous. It’s pointless. No one in their right mind actually thinks this is a good idea or that there’s any reason to do it. It’s an internet joke that’s too old, a meme that has no right being funny anymore. It’s run its course, and the guise of it raising awareness for anything other than the masturbation habits of penis-havers is complete and utter bullshit.

Again. It’s stupid.

Still, Peter Parker is not one to turn down a challenge, no matter how stupid. He’s nothing if not competitive. What can he say? If he won’t do it, who will?

This is what he considers as Ned lays it on the table for him.

All of November. Thirty days. 

Peter doesn’t know how the conversation even started or how they ended up betting against each other in the world’s most moronic challenge. All he knows is that Ned is more than convinced that Peter is weak and won’t last. In fact, he’s so convinced that he’s willing to bet money on it. His reasoning ends up being that Peter isn’t strong enough.

And Peter? Well, he’s convinced that he will make it, that he can survive an entire month without giving in to his desires to bust a nut, to beat his meat, etc. etc. And he, too, is willing to bet money—a stupid amount, maybe more than a hundred—on his own success and his friend’s failure. He doesn’t want to appear too cocky, but he’s more than a hundred percent sure he’s got this in the bag. Yeah, it’s thirty days of cutting out one of Peter’s favorite pastimes—if not the favorite—but there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s more than capable of practicing a little restraint. 

Still, confident as he is, there’s still that part of him that can’t help but dread the coming month the more and more he thinks about it. 

“So, definitely thirty days?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in thought. He tries to appear casual, as if the idea of no release for that amount of time isn’t a big deal. It’s more for clarification. “November has thirty days?”

Ned scoffs. “Yeah. Thirty days.”

“Any strikes? Any free coupons?”

“Nope.” Ned shakes his head with a soul-crushing finality. “Why? You don’t think you can make it?” 

It’s Peter’s turn to scoff, face scrunching dramatically as he recoils. “What? No. I’m worried about you, man. What are you gonna do about Betty?” 

Ned fixes him with a deadpan stare, clearly not buying whatever bullshit Peter’s trying to peddle. “A bet is a bet. She will respect that.”

“How can I trust you, though?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in slight accusation. “You’re always at her place. I mean, how’ll I know you’re not lying?”

Ned glares. “How can I trust you?”

Peter sputters, desperately thinking of ways to throw a reverse Uno at this situation. “Wha—I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m—I’m single, man.”

Ned blinks. Once. Twice. “Do we need to talk about Felicia?”

“That was—”

“Cindy?”

“Dude—”

“Johnny? Jessica? Gwen—”

“I get it. I get it—”

“Carlie? Oh—Debbie? Caleb! Then there was Angela—”

Peter’s expression contorts into one of confusion. “Angela?” He tilts his head, squinting, searching for any kind of memory. 

“Cute red head. You met her in line at Aldi.”

“Ahhh…” A knowing, borderline too-telling smile of recognition pulls at Peter’s lips. “Angela...” he sighs, almost dreamily. Okay, so maybe Ned has a point. But just because Peter enjoys the company of other people so much that he’s got his own version of Mambo No. 5, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of living without the warm touch of another human being or his hand. 

Peter freezes, glancing at his friend. “Okay. Well. What do you want me to do about that? It’s not like I’m gonna call any of them up or anything. I have some sense of self-control.”

Again, Ned blinks. 

“And besides, Felicia was freshman year… she’s our friend now. I don’t hook-up with her anymore.”

Another blink. “Dude.”

“Fine.” Peter huffs, whipping his phone out, eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets and onto the floor as he starts swiping through his contacts. “But I’m not deleting any of ‘em, okay?” 

“Peter…” 

“I’ll change their names! How ‘bout that?” 

A beat passes of silent, overtly-judgmental staring on Ned’s part. He huffs after another second, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine.” Then, his frown shifts into a nonchalant smirk. “Whatever makes it easier for you to lose and me to win.” 

“Please,” Peter scoffs. “I’m not the one with a girlfriend. You’re going down.” He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, lips pursed in mock-contemplation as he points a finger. “Or I guess… Betty’s the one going down.”

Ned nearly chokes on his water holding back a snort. “Come on, man.”

Peter shrugs. 

“Okay, well, are you gonna change the contact name for your right hand, too?”

It’s Peter’s turn to spit out a laugh. 

But before he can even come up with another totally awesome comeback, he hears the jingling of keys, the clanking of locks as their roommate comes home after a long day of classes. All he sees is a flash of her curly hair before he’s tearing his gaze away from the front door, suddenly finding the pads of his thumbs to be pretty damn interesting. 

“Hey, MJ,” Ned greets casually, as if they weren’t just sorting out a bet where neither of them are allowed to orgasm for an entire month. 

“‘Sup.” Michelle flashes them a brief, closed-mouth grin as she makes for the refrigerator, swiping up some baby carrots and the brita filter. 

Really, the conversation from earlier should be done there. Nothing else needs to be said. Especially not in front of their roommate. 

But Peter can’t help himself. 

“Let’s shake on it,” he says, putting his hand out, knowing that the more he keeps talking, the more danger he’s in of saying too much. 

Ned takes it readily, eyes narrowed in determination. “Let’s.”

The corner of Peter’s lip twitches upward, but he holds it back. “No… Peanuts.”

“No walnuts.”

They have that understanding, speaking in the code that the two of them have just made up on the spot, something that Peter can’t help but feel pretty damn proud of. 

MJ glances between the two, carrot half-way to her mouth, frozen in place, brows pinched in suspicion. 

“Peter and I are giving up all nuts for the next month,” Ned says proudly, answering the question that she most certainly did not ask. 

“Cool.”

Ned throws a not-as-subtle-as-he-thinks-it-is wink across the table, giving a just as subtle thumbs up from behind one of his stray history books. 

Peter nods. 

“Why?” Michelle asks, her question—one that shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise at is was—causing them both to exchange wary glances. 

There’s a silence that follows, one that might clearly show that these two guys have no idea what kind of hole they’ve dug themselves into. Ned watches Peter expectantly. Peter glares back. 

“Is it like a health thing?” MJ offers, popping another carrot into her mouth.

Peter nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Health stuff.” His stomach flips when her gaze meets his, her eyes squinting as she chews thoughtfully. 

“May thinks Peter might have a nut allergy,” Ned hastily spits out. When both sets of eyes land on him, he laughs. “So his allergist suggested going a month without ‘em. To see if that makes it better.”

And honestly, Peter thinks that’s a pretty damn good save. 

The best part is that MJ seems to buy it. She nods. “So why are you doing it, Ned?”

“Solidarity,” Ned offers quickly. 

Nice save. 

“Ah,” MJ purses her lips, though she still doesn’t seem to care all that much. “Well, good luck. I guess. I know how much you guys… love… nuts? I guess?”

Peter nods solemnly. 

When she turns back to grab a cup from the cabinet, he throws Ned a quick single nod.

Well played.

--

“So, Peter’s doing no nut November.”

Felicia nearly chokes, snorting as she struggles to keep her vanilla latte in her mouth. “What?” She asks after a dangerous second. They were supposed to be having a nice study sesh, reading about Bloom’s taxonomy, not talking about Peter’s nut habits. 

“He and Ned made a stupid bet to see who could last the whole month,” MJ answers, taking a quiet sip of her London Fog. “Apparently they bet a lot of money on it.”

Felicia’s face scrunches in amused confusion. “Why?”

“Do they really need a reason to do dumb shit?” 

Considering that for a second, Felicia nods with a satisfied frown. “Fair.”

“I bet against Peter, though,” MJ continues. “After he left, I made Ned let me in on it. There’s no way Pete can last the whole month, right? Not even a week.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Felicia vehemently shook her head. “I honestly feel like he’d spontaneously combust after, like, a day.” Then, she lets out a quiet snort. “Combust a nut.”

Michelle wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

“But for real. He’s not gonna make it.”

“That’s what I said. Ned seems to have some faith in him though—no idea why. I told him that Peter wouldn’t even last a week… and now I guess I’m involved.”

“This would be so easy to sabotage though.”

“Right?” 

“Seriously,” Felicia snorts. “All I’d have to do is hit him up one more time and he’s gone.” And then, in that next instant, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. “That’s it!” Before she says anything else, she’s pulling her phone out, quickly scrolling through, looking for God knows what. “Girl, I am gonna win that bet for you.” 

MJ leans forward, curious, yet still cautious. She’s not sure if Peter hooking up again with Felicia is the best idea, given that relations within the friend group would just make things a giant, tangled up mess of complicated awkwardness. “How?” Michelle dares to ask, craning her neck to see what the hell Felicia’s doing on her phone. 

Her friend is quiet for a moment, locked in concentration on her screen, bottom lip tucked between her teeth, brows knit together. Then, she cracks a satisfied, sly smile, turning her phone to show MJ just what she was looking for. 

Simply; a picture of Felicia’s relatively new tattoo which, in and of itself, doesn’t seem like it would get Peter’s peter going. It’s pretty. Floral. Nothing to lose one’s mind over. 

No, it’s more the placement. 

It’s a tasteful shot, the simple flowers lining the underside of her breasts, her hands acting as makeshift pasties, just barely covering her nipples. 

Still, though there’s no actual nudity, it’s enough to make MJ’s eyes bug out of her head for a moment before she’s realizing what she’s looking at. 

“Okay. So?” Michelle waits for an explanation. 

“I send him this,” Felicia says simply, pulling her phone back and (seemingly) drafting up the very message. “Ask if he wants a closer look at it.” 

Michelle considers it a moment, knowing that there’s a very strong chance that Peter could almost immediately fall into such an obvious trap. The corners of her lips twitch into a casual frown. She shrugs. “Honestly. Yeah. That might work.” 

“Might?” Felicia almost scoffs. 

“You’re a genius.”

A smirk tugs at Felicia’s mouth as she leans back in her chair, swiping up to send the message before putting the phone down on the table. “I know.”

They sit in silence, the two of them watching the screen with bated breath. They both gasp when the read receipt pops up, followed by a dead silence. MJ can only imagine how stressed that boy must be, opening his phone, thinking it’s an innocent text from Felicia, then BAM, he’s vibe-checked by her boobs instead. 

She holds back a snort, her stomach jumping into her throat seeing the dot-dot-dot pop up at the bottom of the screen. It’s almost as if she forgets to breathe, waiting to see what he’s going to say to such a blatant come on. 

It’s like he’s typing a damn novel with how long it’s taking him though, and Michelle’s not sure she can take it much longer. 

And then, her phone dings. 

Felicia’s lips pull into a frown reading the message. “‘Wow. Looks cool! No thanks, though.’ Aaaaand,” she spins her phone for MJ to read it. “Thumbs-up emoji. Smiley face with sunglasses.”

Even MJ’s surprised at that response. Maybe Peter is really taking this No Nut November thing seriously. Maybe he’s not as weak as she thought. But… it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing’s adding up. 

And with this confusion, there’s a sense of relief, knowing his response. Waiting wasn’t fun. 

“Huh.” Felicia sighs, biting her lip in thought as she starts typing out another message and sending it. 

“What did you say?” Michelle asks. 

“I told him I’d been thinking about getting my nipples pierced and wanted to know what he thought.” 

At that, Michelle snorts. “You’re an evil woman.” 

Felicia shrugs innocently. “I think he’d really like ‘em.”

Truly, it’s a genius move. It’s something that Peter has to address; Felicia’s nipples. The idea of them being pierced. It’s too much for his brain to handle. 

And again, just like before, they get into a staring contest with the conversation, watching as the read receipt pops up again, immediately followed by the ever-cruel ellipses as Peter no doubt struggles with a response that’s not too-eager. 

But then, he completely throws them for another loop. 

“‘I support you, friend!’ with…” Her eyes narrow. “A smiley face.” 

“Wow,” Michelle says, genuinely surprised. 

And Felicia seems just as shocked, if not a little offended that one of her oldest tricks in the book seem to have no effect whatsoever. “Did he just… friendzone me?” She asks, absolutely appalled.

“You were already friends before?” Michelle laughs. 

“But in this context?” She huffs, shaking her head. A beat passes where all she does is stare at her phone. “That’s weird,” she says slowly, lips quirking into a confused frown. “Huh.” 

“There, there,” Michelle deadpans, patting her friend stiffly on the hand. 

Felicia laughs. “It’s fine…” She draws out. “A hit to the ego is good for me every once in a while.”

“Oh my God,” MJ rolls her eyes. “You’re still hot. Don’t worry.” 

With a sad, a little over-dramatic nod, Felicia’s frown deepens as she pretends to wipe at her eyes. “Yeah. I am.” 

“I can’t believe that didn’t work,” MJ muses. Really, she can’t. Peter’s perhaps the easiest person she knows—and there’s nothing wrong with that at all; it’s just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Grass is green. Peter is a thot.

“I guess he’s really following through with this whole no nut thing…” Felicia’s brow furrows as she recoils. “How much money did he bet anyway?”

“A hundred.” 

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” 

“How much did you put in?” 

“...A hundred.”

“MJ!”

“Listen!” Michelle reasons, holding her hands up in defense. “This is gonna be the easiest two hundred dollars I’ve ever made.”

Felicia sits back, clearly impressed. “Does Peter know you’re in on it?”

“Nope,” MJ says, emphasizing the ‘p’ with an audible pop. 

“Well—” Felicia starts, shifting in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “—I’m sure you’ll find some way to make that boy give in. Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Michelle lets out a light snort. “It’s okay. You tried.” 

“If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

But honestly, MJ already has a vague idea of what her next step is. 

And it brings her to his bedroom, to his desk, messing with his laptop while he’s out for his Sunday patrol. His password is entirely too easy to guess—really, you’d think a guy as smart as Peter would have something a little more complicated than “webshooter69.” 

If there’s anything she knows about Peter—maybe a little too much about her friend—is that while he mostly enjoys the company of a flesh and blood human being, he’s not above the occasional perusing of adult websites. 

The guy likes porn. 

The plan is to make his chrome homepage one of his regular sites. Confront him with the images that really get him going. 

She browses through his history, hoping that he hadn’t thought to delete everything or go incognito. And… luckily for her, that particular idea seemed to have slipped his mind entirely. Literally not even a week out and she’s found a slightly-more-than-nefarious-looking website. 

Easy enough. 

And it’s exactly what she’s looking for. Nudity galore. There doesn’t seem to be a corner of the site that doesn’t have a boob or a butt. It is truly Peter’s domain.

For a moment, she wonders if she should make the homepage specifically something he searches for… his favorite genre perhaps. 

She shakes the thought away immediately. It’s too invasive. Besides, the front page should be more than enough—there’s literally a video that frustratingly autoplays every time she goes back to that one page. And why would she need to know what Peter likes? There’s no reason for that. At all. 

Making sure to close out of everything before logging out, she slams the laptop shut, sprinting out of his room as if he was just about to get home. Her heart races as she slams her own bedroom door behind her, catching her breath proving to be more difficult than usual. 

And now, she waits. 

It turns out, she doesn’t have to wait very long. 

That evening, in fact, after Peter’s come back for dinner. 

He takes his time microwaving his leftovers from the day before, whistling to himself as he bounces around the kitchen. The whole time it feels like MJ’s just holding her breath, anticipating his early demise the instant he opens up chrome on his laptop. And honestly, this does feel like a low blow, like she’s just snatching up that low-hanging fruit—God, MJ, phrasing—but then she’s reminded that this, again, is the easiest two hundred dollars she will ever earn. 

And then she feels a little less bad about what she’s done. 

The second he’s finished with his food and disappears into his room, her eyes are on his door, and then it occurs to her that there’s not really a way that she can know he’s, well, “lost.” It’s all based on his own honor, if he’ll admit to succumbing to his most basic need. She likes to think that he would, though. Peter’s too much of a good, honest guy—hiding his secret identity aside—that he couldn’t lie to his friends about it. 

Ned comes home not two minutes later, deflating on the other side of the couch. 

“Rough day?” MJ asks, the teasing hint to her tone not going unnoticed. 

Ned rolls his eyes. “Told Betty I was doing this whole month thing.”

MJ winced. “Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Ned chuckles. 

“Well, if it helps, this whole thing is probably gonna end in—” she checks her phone. “—five or so minutes.”

Ned’s gaze darts right and left. “What… What do you mean?” 

Before she can answer, Peter yelps from the other side of his door. There’s a loud crash that sounds suspiciously like a laptop being yeeted across the room in a hasty, knee-jerk reaction. Before either she or Ned can move, Peter’s bursting through his door, eyes blown wide, his face drained of all color, and he’s frozen in place, one hand gripping the doorframe. 

And it takes everything in her not to grin. “Everything okay?”

Peter coughs, scratching the back of his neck, before his gaze lands on Ned in a challenging glare. “DUDE. Not cool.”

Poor Ned looks as confused as ever, his jaw dropping, brows pinching together as he glances between the two. “I—What—what are you talking about?”

Peter narrows his eyes even more. 

“Did I hear something break?” MJ asks carefully, as not to seem too suspicious. 

He startles at her voice, sputtering out a response that mostly sounds like the macaroni glue art of sentences. “Oh—uh—no. It—It was the—the laptop. There was—a thing. And—I just kinda—threw it.” He laughs nervously. “It’s fine though. Not—not broken. All good—” He throws some finger guns. “—in the hood.”

Her lips twist as she nods. 

Peter nods back, hands in his back pockets as he starts to retreat back into his room—though not before throwing another I’m watching you glare at Ned. 

As soon as the door clicks shut, Ned’s in full interrogation mode. 

“MJ, what did you do?”

She shrugs, toying with the loose thread of her hoodie. “Nothing much. Just… Set his default homepage to some porn. No biggie.”

Ned’s jaw drops, thoroughly scandalized, but there’s a hint of amusement behind his eyes. “Dude… That’s evil.”

Michelle gives another shrug. 

So, her second plan had failed. Even after surprise-porn, Peter’s still in the running. He’s still holding out. Almost a two days into November, and he is surviving, a surprise to everyone involved, and already, MJ’s running out of ideas. Well, good—plausible ideas. There are plenty of ways she’s sure she could compromise him. Take him to a strip-club maybe, but there’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d be able to pick up on what she was doing. There’s no way he’d fall for it. 

Hiring an escort was definitely out of the question. 

Theoretically, both of those could work. Were they good plans? No. Absolutely not. 

He’s already turned down a previous hook-up. He broke his laptop out of the sheer panic that seeing porn brought him. 

There doesn’t seem to be much more that she can do. 

It’s not until the next day, as she’s walking the clothing section of Target with Felicia that she’s struck with an idea. 

Felicia specifically striking her with said idea. 

They’re in the middle of the sleepwear section, MJ mindlessly rifling through the fuzzy sock bin, when she nearly collides with the underwear display. She’s distracted for a moment, wondering if it’s too soon since she’s bought new underwear to justify taking advantage of the sale, when Felicia nudges her with her elbow. 

“Peter’s really into pretty underwear,” she says as if they’re not in the middle of Target. As if there’s not a mom and two kids in the actual pajama section two displays over. 

Michelle recoils slightly, startled. “What?” 

“He’s like, really into it,” she says, taking a casual sip of her iced coffee, reaching over to pick up a particularly lacy number. “Just saying. Might be useful.”

For some reason, MJ feels a strange heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m not gonna put these on for him!”

Felicia smirks, holding a hand up in defense. “Who said anything about you wearing it? You can just… leave it lying around for him to find, or something.” She tilts her head to the side, both brows raising. “Jeez, MJ.”

“Oh…” Michelle says, though her face still burns. “Right.” 

It’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s pretty good. If Peter’s as into fancy underwear as Felicia says he is, then maybe leaving them around like some kind of weird scavenger hunt is the best plan. She doesn’t buy much, picking a pair of relatively cheap lace and polyester. She could use her own underwear for this, but… that would be weird right?

(As if this isn’t weird enough already.)

And besides, the ones she’s buying are a little more extra in that department. They aren’t meant to be worn for long, not from comfort. 

They’re perfect. 

She feels like some kind of underwear fairy, planting them somewhere in the apartment, making sure they’re hidden, yet visible in a place that Peter frequents; it sticks up between the couch cushions, not subtle in the slightest. The second Peter’s butt hits that couch, he’ll see them. There’s no other way around it. 

It becomes another waiting game as she sits in the living chair, knees curled into her chest as she pretends to read quietly. It’s pretend because she can’t focus long enough on any single letter to let her brain absorb anything on the pages. Finally, the front door opens. Peter greets her with a cheery smile, making immediately for the kitchen. 

Good. Yes. He gets his after class snack. Important. 

Just as she’d planned. 

He emerges not two minutes later, bag of cheese crackers in hand as he launches himself over the back of the couch. “‘Sup?” he asks after shoving a mouthful of Cheez-its into his face. 

Michelle wrinkles her nose, her eyes unconsciously darting between the guy on the couch and the panties peeking out from the cushions. “Reading,” she offers, brandishing the very unread book.

Peter nods, tearing his gaze from hers after a beat and reaching for the remote. When he sits back, his hand brushes the cheap lace and he pauses, curious as he looks down to see what he touched. 

All of this while MJ desperately pretends not to notice. 

When he picks the pair up though, his brows pinch together, at first unsure as to what he’s actually looking at. “Uh…” 

At that, MJ looks up, seeing right as the realization sets in. 

Of course, she plays dumb—by staying silent. 

Peter quickly looks to her, eyes wide as if he’s seen a ghost. “It’s—it’s not—these aren’t—” His lips press together as he forces a breath through his nose. “I—Oh god—”

And then, for a split-second, she feels the slightest bit guilty. Is this actually a good plan or is she just tricking him into getting a boner over cheap department store undies? That, and is she technically lying to him by not claiming the offending undergarments? By making him freak out over nothing?

He seems to be having some sort of existential crisis, wondering if these really are from some recent hook-up and the psychological effect of not nutting in three days has caused him to forget. 

This was a terrible idea.

She has to put him out of his misery. 

“Oh, shit. Those—” Her laugh is breathy, short. “—Those are mine.” 

And instantly, Peter drops the thong, as if his hands had been burned. “Oh!” he coughs, his gaze straining as if he’s trying to keep his eyes on her face. “S—Sorry.” He swallows.

“Yeah.” Rising on legs that are shaky—from sitting so oddly in the chair for so long—she goes to snatch up the baby pink lace, clutching it behind her back before Peter can get another look. “Sorry. Must’ve forgot. Uh, when I did… Laundry.”

Peter nods, breathing out a chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah. S’fine.” He waves her off, scratching the back of his neck. 

But even after that, Peter still seems off. For some reason, he still doesn’t seem to be able to look at her for more than a split-second. He doesn’t say anything else, sitting in silence, his cheese crackers long forgotten on the coffee table. 

Michelle wonders if she should say something else. Break the tension. It’s awkward, obviously, because he feels weird about touching his friend’s underwear. Anyone would, really. He touched something that theoretically would be on her body; something that normally, he thinks is really sexy, or whatever. 

After another minute of some good old soul-crushing silence, Peter stands, excusing himself to his room without another word. 

Huh. Weird.

--

It’s the movie night that finally gives her that clarity she’s been looking for; that moment where everything clicks into place, and she can finally see how she’s going to win this. 

Ned’s out with Betty, leaving her and Peter alone not for the first time. 

She and Peter are sitting on the couch together, her head resting on his shoulder—because that’s what friends do, obviously—the two of them sharing a gray fuzzy blanket. This is a normal occurrence. They’re close enough in their friendship that some occasional cuddling isn’t too weird. Especially given how chilly it’s been lately. And, it’s comfy. Just some nice head-to-shoulder contact. 

But later in the movie, when MJ starts to get dangerously sleepy, feeling herself drooping further and further, unable to completely pull herself back to reality. Things are fuzzy, almost dreamlike, as she just pulls herself up from his shoulder, giving up entirely on watching the movie and just grumpily laying down right on his lap, his thigh her make-shift pillow.

This isn’t weird. 

It’s normal.

She’s sleepy.

And Peter’s a surprisingly comfy pillow.

Peter doesn’t even have time to ask what she’s doing before she’s just nestling further into his lap. She misses the pure dread and panic that flashes across his face when her head lines up with his head. There’s no safety here. Just a few wrong movements, and she’ll definitely know what’s up. She’ll be an unwitting tourist to Boner City, population: one. 

Peter has to do something. He can’t let this continue. Having his best friends head just straight up on his crotch is not helpful in the slightest. 

“MJ,” he gently nudges her, grimacing slightly when she just burrows further into him. 

He nudges her again, and she grumbles, finally opening her eyes and looking up at him. She puts a hand on his thigh to steady herself. 

Peter swallows. 

“What?” She asks, not opening her eyes.

“I uh—” Peter can’t seem to speak, trying desperately to come up with some excuse as to why he has to get the fuck out of there. “—I gotta pee.”

She cracks an eye open skeptically. “But I’m comfy,” she emphasizes her point by—once again—snuggling her face into his lap. 

Peter’s about to lose his damn mind. 

In MJ’s defense, this had started with the best intentions. She truly was just wanting to lay down and sleep on her friends lap—again, a perfectly normal thing—but now… even through the haze of sleep, she’s seeing how much this is effecting him. 

It hadn’t occurred to her until now, that she could be the one that makes him “crack.” They’re just friends. Sure, she thinks he’s attractive, and yeah, maybe she’s had the one or two or three sexy dreams about him before (even some soft, fluffy ones), but that doesn’t mean she thinks about him in that way. 

He's just Peter.

Sweet, adorable, kinda hot Peter.

Again, she doesn't think about him that way.

But she supposes it makes sense. Really, she should have known before putting her head on his crotch that he might get a little flustered from the proximity, that it might remind him of certain things. It's just the body's physiological reaction to a stimulus; the stimulus being her head. It's simple science.

So then, it would also only make sense for her to take advantage of that physiological response she's able to get out of him. Maybe not right at this second, given she's been a little blindsided by this whole thing. But maybe now she can rethink her gameplan. Now she has access to tools she didn't know she had access to before.

Her own sensuality.

She can certainly use that.

And it's not as if she'll do anything too out there. Just... make him feel the heat—the pressure—just a little bit. Make him sweat.

Felicia's of course delighted by this development, giving her full support in "seducing Parker into busting a nut."

(Her words, not MJ's.)

She'd also said something about how it's about time, but that'd been promptly ignored—mainly because MJ didn't know what the hell Felicia was talking about.

The problem is now, though, Michelle's not exactly sure where to start. After Peter had made a dead sprint to the bathroom the night before, he's been a little more, shall we say, cautious, around her. He bounces on his feet, trying desperately to appear casual, acting as if nothing was weird about their movie night.

She only has three days left in the week, so she has to think.

And fast.

--

Peter's not sure if MJ's up to something, but he can't help but feel as though she's acting... strange. First, the underwear thing, which made him feel all kinds of flustered and weird, and then her head being dangerously close to his dick. It's a lot. She can't possibly know about this No Nut thing, right? She wasn't there, and Ned wouldn't have told her... right?

Still, he tries to avoid her as much as he can, ready to fly away the second she's in the same room as him.

Truthfully, he's always had maybe the tiniest crush on his best friend. It's faded in and out over the years, especially in their college years. But it's always been there, even if just the ghost of one. And now, he's starting to see maybe how bad of an idea this was in the first place—No Nut November. His roommate is literally probably the prettiest person in the world and he's being constantly reminded of the one thing he definitely should not be thinking about under any circumstances if he wants to win. It's a disaster that should have never happened in the first place. This could have been prevented, he thinks.

He's not sure how he didn't think about that when he'd agreed to do this.

He just knows that he has to do something, though he's not sure what.

But any and all ideas of how to protect himself instantly leave his mind, crashing his brain, when he comes back to the apartment the next day to find it sweltering. He looks at the thermostat, thoroughly confused to find the heater set to eighty. He peels off his jacket, recoiling when the humid air sticks to his skin. It's hot. Too hot. Even for early November. It's not that cold outside.

He's about to call out for his roommates when MJ emerges from her room, and he feels like he has to pick his jaw up from the floor.

Her shorts are too short for it being fall. They show too much of her legs for his eyes to not be immediately drawn to them. Her white tank top is tight against her skin, hugging her form in a way that almost makes him jealous. And then, it's almost too much, too dangerous, when he can very clearly tell that she's apparently decided to forgo a bra for the evening.

"Oh, hey Pete!" She says, as if she's not looking like that.

"Hey—hey. Em..." He clears his throat.

Dear God. It's been less than a week. Hold it together.

"Is it..." Peter swallows. "Is it hot in here? The—the heat? Is it—is it on?"

MJ's eyes widen a fraction.

"Oh, yeah. It is," she replies casually. "Is that okay? I was just a little cold."

"So you turn it up to—" Peter stops, craning his neck to look at the thermostat on the wall. "—eighty-two?"

She glances left and right, as if there's nothing wrong with that temperature whatsoever. "Yeah," she says with a nonchalant shrug, her lips tugging into a frown. After a beat, she lets out a faint snort, apparently finding something particularly funny, before turning to the fridge. She opens the freezer, sighing as the cool air hits her face.

Peter doesn't realize he's staring as she reaches in, pulling out a box from the top shelf. When he sees what's in the box, he knows that his doom is near. It's bright, colorful. It's popsicles. He has to leave immediately if he knows what's good for him, if he has any sense of sanity left. She grabs a crinkling wrapper from inside the box, casually whipping it out. She holds one out to him.

"Want one?" She offers.

Peter can only shake his head, swallowing a near-silent, voice-cracking, "Nope."

And it's at this point, as she shuts the freezer door, as she starts peeling the wrapper off the way-too-phallic popsicle, that he knows he should run. It's not safe here.

But he's frozen in place, trying to burn his gaze into the intricacies of the granite countertops, tapping his fingers in an erratic rhythm.

He's an idiot, for sure, because he looks up at exactly the wrong time, right as she wraps her lips around the tip of the pop, her eyes meeting his for a fraction of a second.

How can it only be eighty-two in here? 

Thankfully, he gains some sense, tearing himself away from the counter and going over to actually turn down the thermostat. "Is it okay if I—" He coughs. "—Turn this back down?"

"Sure." MJ doesn't stop him. She wets her lips, hiding her satisfied smirk by taking the popsicle deeper into her mouth.

But again, he makes the fatal mistake of looking at her again, because now... well, now she's just messing with him. She has to be.

No one eats a popsicle like that.

When he thinks it can't get worse, she has the fucking audacity to hum as she pushes it further into her mouth. "This is so good," she says, half-way a moan.

Who actually says that about a fucking popsicle?

It's evil, truly it is, because it makes him imagine her swirling her tongue around it inside her mouth, and suddenly, the tightness in his pants gets even more uncomfortable.

He hurries to somewhere else in the kitchen, pouring himself a nice glass of water. It's still too hot in here. MJ sidesteps him easily, still inappropriately eating—sucking off—her popsicle. And he nearly chokes, because as his eyes meet hers again, she takes the damn thing out of her mouth—he thinks he's safe, but oh no—she slips her tongue out, licking a long stripe up the base, swirling it around the tip before taking it into her mouth again.

"What?" She asks—she fucking asks—when he can't look away.

And unsurprisingly, Peter can't speak. Can't even get a single syllable out.

"Is my tongue red?" She asks, sticking said tongue out that was just seconds before all over the popsicle.

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower," Peter spits out, dropping his water in the sink and making a mad dash to the bathroom, not waiting for a response.

A shower is what he needs right now.

A nice, cold shower.

He needs to take a deep breath. Think of not sexy things. Things that don't make his life out to be a bad porno.

Then, he needs to leave. Hide in the forest. Live among the trees, away from temptation, until November is over. Only then can he be at peace.

That's it!

Trees. Nature. Forests. Cold. Snow. MJ in the snow. Kissing MJ in the snow—NO.

NO.

He slams the bathroom door, leaning back against it. He heaves out a shaky sigh, running a hand over his face in frustration. How he can possibly survive the rest of the month, he has no idea.

MJ has to be messing with him, right? There’s absolutely no way in hell she’s not doing this on purpose. And why? Why is she torturing him like this? What has Peter ever done in his life to deserve this torment? It isn’t fair. 

No matter how desperately he wants to take care of the not-so-little problem in his jeans, he holds himself back, clenching every muscle in his body as he switches on a very cold shower. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the image of Michelle—his best friend and roommate—eating a popsicle out of his mind. It has absolutely no right to be there. 

And still, as Peter stands under the stream of freezing water, letting it run down his back and front as he holds himself up with one hand, he can’t help but think that the worst is yet to come. That somehow, someway, MJ would top simulating a blow job on an ice pop. He doesn’t know how she’d do it, but he knows it’s coming. 

He must be ready. 

--

Not to MJ’s surprise, Peter avoids her the rest of the day. He keeps his head down, not daring to even glance up at her as he walks past. Weirdly enough, this is a good sign. It confirms her hypothesis that her actions can have some sort of an effect on him. It helps her to know what to do next. 

And, well…

She’d be lying if she said it weren’t at least a little bit thrilling. 

There’s something deep inside her that finds all of this so interesting, so amusing. She wants to know how far she can go, how hard she can push before he cracks under the pressure. And the fact that it’s her that has all this power over him—it’s certainly a revelation. 

But still, even if this is “fun,” she can be professional about this. She would never let it get “too far,” whatever that would be. No, the goal here isn’t to seduce her way into Peter’s pants, but to seduce him—innocently—enough that he just does it to himself. 

Her next plan might be a little more unfair, a little more direct, and perhaps a little more daring than the last one. 

And—she should add—much more difficult than she had anticipated. 

For one, she just can’t seem to get the right angle, holding her phone above her body, making sure to get both the underside of her breasts—a tasteful amount of boob, thank you very much—and the same cheap, pretty pink undies she bought from Target. It’s awkward, tilting and twisting her phone, her thumb just barely reaching the shutter button. The first few shots aren’t anything to be particularly proud of. Too blurry, her arm cramping up from holding the camera up so long. This isn’t something she’s really done before, given she’s never seen the appeal. Why send pics when you could just, you know, show them the real thing? 

But for some reason, it makes her heart climb into her throat, makes her face almost unbearably warm. 

It’s when she changes her positioning on her bed, finding some nice light filtering in from the early evening sun. Golden hour has always proven to be exceptionally kind to her. She finds a decent pose, covering both breasts with her forearm, arching her back, making sure to get that perfect “booty tooch” that would make Tyra proud. She breathes out in an attempt to cool her heated nerves, parting her lips in a way that’s sure to incite some kind of reaction. 

Click. 

And then, she’s got the shot. 

Okay, technically it’s not a nude, but there’s something about the idea of sending this picture to Peter of all people that gets her stomach twisting in knots. 

And as her hand hovers over the send button, her heart hammers in her chest, hesitation holding her still. She takes her bottom lip in her teeth, beginning to wonder if this is the best idea. Her plan had been to send the picture, play it off as some kind of mistake, and hope that he goes to… take care of himself. Sure, it might get a reaction out of Peter—one big enough that causes him to give up this whole no nut thing—but it almost feels as if she’s crossing some kind of line. 

Miming a blow job on a popsicle was one thing—one that she can’t decide if she’s proud of or not. That was just a performance. It wasn’t something she was doing to Peter. This—sending him a racy picture when he’s literally in the next room—is a direct interference. 

Plus, there’s no telling what this would do to their friendship. It could ruin everything. Catastrophically. 

Awkward would be an understatement. 

She puts her phone face down on the mattress, avoiding the picture all together, before getting up and pulling on one of her comfy robes. 

God, all of this was a terrible idea. 

Wallowing in her own self-pity and regret, she flops back down onto the bed, grabbing her phone with the intention of deleting the picture once and for all. It’s still there in the text conversation, just waiting to be sent. She scoffs, shaking her head at herself, only for her heart to stop in her chest when—in her frazzled state—she hits “send” instead of that little “x.”

“SHIT.” 

No no no no no NONONONONO.

She drops her phone immediately, wrapping her robe tighter around herself as she scrambles for her bedroom door, nearly tripping over her rug in the process. 

Peter’s sitting on the couch, blissfully unaware, when his phone pings. And to Michelle’s utter horror, he picks it up. 

“NO!” MJ shouts, jumping on top of him. It’s a futile attempt really, seeing as her best friend—she stupidly forgets—is an actual superhero. 

Peter yelps as she pushes him down into the couch, tumbling onto the floor, holding his phone away from her grabby hands as she straddles his hips. “What the fuck—” And while he could push her off of him with a ridiculous amount of ease, he stills, becoming suddenly aware of their precarious position. 

“Gimme your phone!” Her voice comes out in a half-plea, half-demand. All panic. 

Peter still holds it away from her, his own brand of panic flashing across his features when his other hand naturally falls at her hip. He yanks it away, instead holding her back by the shoulder. “Why?”

It’s also then that he sees what she’s wearing—or rather, what she isn’t wearing. 

And in his distraction, Michelle snatches his phone, instinctively throwing it across the room. She winces apologetically when he looks up at her, jaw dropped and brow wrinkled. 

“What the hell, MJ—”

“—I’m sorry! I panicked!”

“Why?!”

“I—”

It’s then, as they both stare at each other in shock, that they both realize the position they’re in—but neither of them seem to be able to move away, frozen solid on the living room floor. 

Peter can feel his heart beating relentlessly in his ears, his throat suddenly going dry when he notices how tightly Michelle’s thighs are holding him in place. Another problem starts to arise when he sees how her cotton robe is pooled around their aligned hips, his eyes catching the sliver of shiny pink underwear when one side falls back. “What—” He clears his throat, his voice coming out uncharacteristically breathy. “—What was on my… my phone?”

“Uh—” She presses her lips together. “A picture.”

Peter’s gaze drifts lower for a split second, dipping to the exposed dip in her chest, drawn to the rise and fall with each breath. “Of?” 

“Me?”

“You?”

MJ breathes out a laugh, glancing down. “I, uh—accidentally sent… You a picture. Well—I meant to send it to you, not that like, it wasn’t for you, but I kinda decided not to send it… and then… I did. Accidentally.” 

And even though he’s trying everything in his power to keep his eyes on her face, he can’t help the way they seem to travel lower and lower with each second. He’s confused at first, but then, it hits him, like a train, what exactly that picture was. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The air crackles between them, static in their ears. Michelle finds her own gaze drifting lower, lingering on his parted lips, a warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach. She shifts slightly, her breath catching as she suddenly feels the hardness pressing into the inside of her thigh. Peter stares up at her, something in his eyes bringing her closer, inch by inch. The warmth and weight of both of his hands tentatively, slowly moving to her waist causes something to ignite within her, and in a split-second, her lips are on his. 

Michelle’s surprised to find herself… well—surprised—at how this kiss doesn’t immediately turn into an all tongue-and-teeth, ripping-eachother’s-clothes-off kiss. It’s sweet. Slow and tender—as if the two of them are savoring it. Nothing like she’d expected Peter to be capable of. Nothing like how he’d painted himself to be from all of his hook-up stories. 

And she’s not entirely sure who’s “fault” it is when it turns into more. 

It could be the way she’s subtly grinding her hips against his, her body alight with the friction. 

It could be how his tongue swipes over her bottom lip, innocently at first. 

It could be her soft, breathy whines as one of his hands moves lower to cup her ass, pulling her closer, the new angle against his hardness bringing an indescribable feeling. 

And then again, it could be her robe starting to fall off her shoulders—she’s not sure who starts that, but all of a sudden she’s feeling cool air on her skin. 

She almost smiles into the kiss, thinking about how easily and quickly this “chaste” kiss had shifted. 

And it’s immediately after that thought that she snaps out of it. 

“Wait!” She says, pulling back and sitting up—but still staying in Peter’s lap. Before this can go any further, she has to tell him the truth. He has to be able to… back out of it. 

Where this sudden sense of generosity’s come from, she has no idea. 

He follows, sitting up with her, brows creasing, his expression a concoction of worry and panic. “Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry—”

“No!” She puts a hand on his shoulder after fixing her robe. Her thumb smooths over the fabric of his shirt. “No. It’s… fine. I just…” Surprisingly, she finds herself chuckling, unable to bite back her smile as he looks at her with concern. 

“What is it, Em?” 

It’s the nickname for her nickname that does it for her. Truly. 

“You good?” He asks, wincing as she shifts in his lap again. 

“Yeah, uh—” She coughs, trying unsuccessfully to hide the way her lips are twitching violently as she fights her smile. It takes her more than a few moments, the deep breaths she’s taking not doing all that much to help mask the humor in her tone. “—I know about No Nut November.” 

At first, Peter’s confused, staring back at her with furrowed brows, his mouth in a cute little ‘o’. He tries to play dumb, maybe thinking that he can get away with one final attempt to save his pride—letting out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck, he shrugs. “Yeah, my new diet. Crazy, huh?”

She blinks, blankly staring at him. “Peter.” There’s some amusement there, especially as she pointedly glances down to their current position. 

“What?” He asks dumbly. 

“Ned told me.”

Peter curses, wincing. “Damn it, Ned.”

“Yeah…” In a strange, very unwelcome bout of insecurity, Michelle removes her hands from Peter’s shoulders, twiddling her fingers together in front of her. “I made him tell me… and I kinda… also made him let me in on the bet.”

His eyes nearly bug out of his head. “What?!”

“We kinda made our own bet that like… If you lasted less than a week, I would get all the money.”

“You didn’t think I’d last a week?” Peter almost takes offense at that, even if there’s merit to her prediction. “Damn, MJ…”

“I mean… I also wanted to win. So… I kinda tried—or I guess have been trying… to sabotage you?” 

At that, his jaw drops. “No! Wait—You—What? I—” He stammers like that, his brain short-circuiting as she still watches from his lap. “That was—what? The porn? On my laptop?”

MJ nods, grimacing. 

“The… underwear? Just in the couch?” 

“Yeah…”

“And you were gonna…” He looks down at her, the cotton robe still just barely tied around her—the journey his eyes make also coinciding with his mouth going dry once again. “...That picture you took…?”

She nods again, looking down at her hands. 

“Putting your head on my lap?!” He asks, as if he of all people is scandalized. 

“That wasn’t part of the plan. That was kinda what helped me figure out that… I could just… do it myself.” 

“Oh my God,” he puts a hand on his face. “The popsicle. The fucking popsicle.”

“That was probably my best work, honestly.”

“That was so cruel.” 

And when he laughs, his eyes crinkling, she starts to see that maybe this will all be okay, and a sense of relief fills her chest. “Yeah, sorry. I also had Felicia help.” 

“You put her up to that?!” 

“Nah. She offered. I felt kinda weird about it—” She says the last part without realizing it, immediately shutting her mouth. 

“That’s why I said no,” Peter replies. 

It’s Michelle’s turn to be surprised. “What? Really? I thought it was just ‘cause you were so dedicated to this whole no nut thing.”

“I mean, yeah, I was but—” He laughs, reaching a hand up to smooth the curls at the base of his neck. “—I just… felt weird about it. With you guys being friends and all.” 

The way MJ’s heart flutters is strange, but not entirely unwelcome. “Why would that be weird?”

“Why did you think it’d be weird?” He throws back, his lips twisting into a curious grin. 

And not for the first time when talking to Peter, Michelle feels all knowledge of the English language leave her body. It’s strange, how much confidence she can have while literally dry-humping him on the living room floor, but how scared she can be trying to explain something about how she feels. 

She only shrugs. 

A beat passes, and still, Michelle can’t bring herself to move. 

“So…” Peter draws out after another moment. “All that—” he clears his throat. “—stuff… that was just to win that bet?” 

“Well, I mean—yeah?” The look of hurt on his face makes her heart lurch in her chest. She’s quick to correct herself. “But—I… I think maybe that could be a good thing.” 

His brows raise in careful curiosity, though he still seems apprehensive. “A good thing?” He asks slowly. 

Michelle nods, swallowing. “Uh—Yeah. ‘Cause… If I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have figured out that—um… I might—” It’s weird, how frustrating it is that she can’t seem to find the words she wants to say, that her brain seems to have completely abandoned her in her greatest, most dire time of need. And this shouldn’t be this hard. She’s an adult. She’s in her third year of college. 

Confessing the feelings that you’ve just realized you have for your best friend since high school should be easy right?

Right?

And she’s only just figured this out. In the last five seconds. That all these years of weird feelings, long glances, warm faces has actually lead to something, they’ve actually meant something other than a weird stomach bug or whatever. 

All it took was attempted sabotage during No Nut November for her to realize that. 

The power it has. 

“MJ?”

His voice grabs her attention; the caution in his tone snapping her gaze to his. And for a moment, she just looks at him, mouth hanging open as she tries to say something, anything. But still, she can’t.

So, she does the next best thing. 

She kisses him—again—trying her best to put all of the words she can’t seem to figure out into it. And although he kisses her back—easily—he doesn’t seem to understand what she means, because he pulls away not ten seconds later. 

“Listen—MJ—” Peter stammers, running a jittery hand through his hair as he breathes out a huff of laughter. “—I don’t think I can do—” He gestures between the two of them. “—This… if it’s just… casual.” 

So, he really didn’t get it, and now, she’s feeling the impatience creeping up her neck. 

“I really like you, MJ,” he confesses, and for a moment, she’s not sure if she heard him right, or if she heard him speak at all. Her brain must be playing some nasty, cold-hearted trick on her, because Peter—perpetually single and ready to mingle Peter—just said that he liked her. 

God, she feels like she’s a teenager again. It feels so high school, the amount of butterflies in her stomach hearing him say that. 

Even more so when she finds herself responding automatically, “I really like you, too.”

“Cool,” he says lamely, his breathless chuckle making her heart flutter in her chest. 

He doesn’t waste another second before he tugs her back to him, capturing her lips to his, one of his hands moving to cup the underside of her jaw. She tilts her head, letting out a gentle sigh as he deepens the kiss. His tongue brushes against her lips before slipping into her mouth. The weight of his other hand on her waist is comforting in a way, heavy and solid as he holds her in place. 

Truly, she hadn’t expected any of her plans from earlier in the week to come to this. 

Instinctively, her hand snakes down to his hips, sliding underneath the hem of his t-shirt and dragging across his stomach, smiling into the kiss as his muscles twitch underneath her touch. It’s then, as her hand dips even lower, palming him over his sweats that he seems to snap out of whatever trance she put him in. 

He grabs her wrist—gently, of course—pulling it away and breaking the kiss. 

His chest is heaving with each breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in an apologetic smile. “I—I can’t—the… the bet.”

And it dawns on Michelle then, that she’s been cockblocked by No Nut November. 

Even though she tries to appear understanding, he must be able to see the disappointment in the twist of her lips, the way she nods quietly. 

“But—” He starts, pressing his mouth together into a thin line. He nudges her, pointing his finger as he’s hit with a revelation, talking slowly. “—You’re not… doing… No Nut November…”

MJ lets out a surprised laugh, shifting in his lap as her face warms even more. A beat passes as she stares at him, giving him a chance to take it back. “Are you sure?” She finally asks.

Peter nods quickly, insistently. He’s got this. Clearly. “Oh. Yeah. Definitely. I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, she’s not sure how much of that she actually believes. 

Probably none of it. 

But, that doesn’t mean she’s turning down the offer. 

“Okay…” She trails off, unable to bite back her grin at the brief self-doubt that flashes across his features. “What do you—what do you wanna do?” She asks, her face burning, suddenly finding herself the slightest bit tongue tied. It takes everything in her to at least look calm and not like she’s about a half-second away from just jumping his bones. 

Or, one in particular. 

Peter clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning an adorable shade of red. “Uh—” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean… Whatever you’re comfortable with? I’m cool with whatever you want.”

He’s cool. Okay. Yeah. 

She shifts her weight again, biting back a smirk when he inhales sharply as she brushes against the hardness in his gray sweats. “Sorry.” Feeling merciful, Michelle climbs off of his lap, sitting back against the couch, curling her legs underneath her. “Any ideas?” 

Though, Peter can’t seem to tell if he’s happy with this new development or not—as hard as it was having her sitting on him. “Um—” And his expression tells her that he does have one. “I could…” He coughs again. “I could go down on you?”

It’s funny, how casually he says it, like he’s offering to give her a ride to the airport, or something. But it still makes her ears ring. 

“Yeah,” she says, nodding slowly. She swallows. “That sounds—that sounds good.”

“We should probably—” He gestures to his bedroom door, huffing out a laugh. “—not do this out here.” 

“Probably,” she snorts. 

The speed at which he scrambles to stand and runs to his bedroom, compared to her somewhat-leisurely pace, makes her let out the most undignified laugh. 

A silence falls between them as he shuts the door, the click echoing. MJ takes a moment to glance around his room—literally a single moment, because in the next he’s wrapping his arm around her waist, yanking her to him and crashing his lips to hers. His hands are greedy, twisting handfuls of the soft fabric of her robe, finding purchase on her ass and grinding her against his hardness. 

MJ revels in the groan he lets out as she melts into him, her hands winding themselves in his soft curls, twisting and tugging ever so slightly. 

He guides her to the bed, pausing to gently lay her back on the mattress before crawling over her, his mouth finding itself on the underside of her jaw, his lips and tongue dragging along the column of her throat. With one hand, he prises her legs apart, happily settling between them while his other fumbles with the tie of her robe. 

His eyes meet hers first, silently asking for permission, before pulling the thick string back. His eyes darken as Michelle helps him slip the robe back, leaving her almost completely bare underneath him. He unconsciously wets his lips as his eyes hungrily rake over the expanse of her body—he feels as if the only accurate description for how he feels at this moment being a deer caught in really well-defined headlights. 

She thinks for a moment that he’s just going to do this—stare at her—instead of, well, what he said he’d do. 

But he doesn’t seem to have that kind of patience. He lurches forward, his mouth hot on her neck, trailing open-mouthed, wet kisses down to her collarbone, her sternum, the swell of her right breast. 

She bites back a gasp as he takes her nipple into his mouth, her back arching off the bed as his tongue swirls around it, palming the other with his hand. It’s a sight to see for sure, Peter’s head on her chest, his curls tickling her skin.

His trail continues, back to the dip in her chest, lower and lower, his kisses hot on her stomach, down to her hips, the lace trim of her thong.

Peter sits back on his heels, breathless as he looks down at her. “Fuck—” He curses, drawn to the damp patch in the middle of the soft faux-satin, how it clings to her. 

He doesn’t give it another second, hooking his thumbs around the lace and roughly pulling them off of her legs. 

He’s diving his head down in the next instant, his lips leaving scorching kisses on the inside of her thighs. He thinks that he can maybe tease her, trying to slow his pace as he gets closer and closer to where she wants him to be. 

(Okay, it’s where he wants to be, too.)

He pulls back a little, trying not to smile too much at the disappointed edge in her shuddering sigh. As much as his mouth waters with her so close to him, he controls himself. Kind of. To a degree. He takes a finger, experimentally teasing her entrance, his sweats—somehow—tightening at Michelle’s quiet gasp as he touches her. There, he collects her wetness, coating his finger in her arousal, swirling it over her cunt, around her clit. And he sits there, marveling at how impossibly wet she is already. 

Though, it’s not long, probably less than a minute, before his impatience kicks in again. 

He thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t eat her out. 

Dramatic? Maybe. 

Valid?

Who’s to say?

But he can’t help himself, and any thought about slowing down is thrown out the window as he licks a long stripe up her center, his eyes rolling back as he tastes her. He dives right back in, his tongue circling her entrance, lapping her up. 

And Michelle can’t help but notice how at home he looks between her legs, how in his element he is as he moves to start sucking on her clit, flicking it back and forth with his tongue as he teases her with two fingers. 

His eyes meet hers and she wonders how on earth she’s going to survive this, especially when those two fingers push into her, curling as he pumps them in and out. 

“Shit—Peter!” She cries, her back fully lifting off the mattress as he picks up his pace, moaning against her. 

Clearly he’s enjoying this, too. 

A choked gasp slips from her lips when he slows suddenly, his eyes locking with hers again before picking back up even harder and faster than before. She reaches down, tangling her hand in his messy curls, holding him in just that right spot. Her thighs try to close on him, trapping him in as the coil in her tightens, but his free hand grips her, holding her in place. And she can’t fight the way her hips buck against him as she begins to grind herself against his face. 

It builds and builds, teetering just on that beautiful edge, when Peter adds a third finger—and then, she’s seeing stars, her brain going fuzzy as all of her muscles tense, electricity shooting from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She comes with a strangled moan, panting as her body’s overcome with pleasure. 

Peter’s movements slow, and he pulls off of her sensitive clit, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, before taking each finger into his mouth, sucking them clean. 

MJ sits up on her elbows, her chest heaving with each breath as she watches him—and at that moment, her eyes drawn to the hard line in his sweats, she curses No Nut November again, because honestly, she’s never wanted him to fuck her more, never been so angry at a single month.

He seems to be in the same fire, his expression wrought with the inner turmoil he feels. His eyes screw shut, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to ignore how painfully hard he is, how he can feel his dick pulsing already, and how stupidly hot and beautiful MJ is. 

His decision’s made before he opens his eyes. 

Michelle lets out a surprised yelp as he leaps on top of her, his mouth on hers before she can start laughing. Somehow, his hands are greedier as they explore her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts, her waist, her hips, down to her ass. 

None of that’s to say that she’s complaining, though. Peter just ate her out like it was his full-time job, like he was stopping crime as Spider-Man. As far as she’s concerned, he can do whatever he wants right now. 

It’s when he starts to take his sweats—and boxers—off that she gets confused, if not a little too hopeful. 

“What about the bet?” She asks breathlessly when he pulls back.

He holds her gaze, his lips curving into a sly grin. “Fuck the bet.”

If there’s a god, Michelle wants to thank her right now. 

Peter’s hands grip her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin as he wraps them around his waist. He takes his dick in his hand, pumping a few times, swiping it down her center, tapping her clit, before Michelle suddenly remembers to use their one collective brain cell. 

“Wait—” she gasps. “Condom.”

Peter curses under his breath, hanging his head for a moment, biting his lip. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.” 

If she thought he was fast running to the bedroom, watching him scramble through his bedside drawers looking for a rubber is something else. A giggle—a fucking giggle—bubbles up out of her at his relief when he finds one. 

He rolls it on quickly, expertly, days of No Nut November clearly not slowing him down. 

He’s back on her in the next second, eager as he gathers her arousal and coating himself with it. 

They both let out a string of curses as he pushes into her—finally. Peter screws his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath as he feels how warm and snug she is around him, almost unable to believe how well she fits him. MJ grips his shoulder, face burning as he gives her a moment to adjust, a moment to take all of him in. 

When he starts to move, they both wonder again why they hadn’t been doing this in the first place. 

As with everything else, Peter doesn’t waste their time. Even though he revels in how fucking amazing she feels around him, how he can’t even remember the last time this felt so good, so right, he picks up a steady pace, fucking into her like it’s the last chance he’ll get. He hikes her leg higher on his waist, the new, deeper angle causing Michelle to arch her back, a wet moan ripping through her. 

“Peter—” She chants his name over and over, unable to say anything else as his hips snap into hers. “Fuck—”

“God, MJ, you’re so fucking good,” his voice is almost a growl, lower and more desperate than he’s ever sounded. “Taking me so well.”

Michelle should’ve guessed he was one for dirty talk, though she can’t say she’s surprised. 

Or that she minds. 

Peter bites back a groan, stilling momentarily as she clenches around him, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He’s already so close, teetering just on the edge, but he’s filled with a sense of determination at the sting of her nails digging into his shoulders. 

His hand trails down her stomach, his thumb pressing her clit, scrubbing furiously as he pumps in and out of her. She squeezes him again, head thrown back, slack-jawed as he tilts her hips even further, the new angle causing a string of curses to spill from her lips. Her muscles spasm around him as she comes for a second time, her eyes screwed shut as she clings to him for dear life. His own orgasm crashes over him, and he moans loudly into her skin, holding her to him , fingers digging into her hips as he comes undone. 

It’s something MJ can’t help but want to see again. And again. 

He flops down on top of her, his head on her chest as he struggles to catch his breath. 

Her hand comes to smooth down his curls at the nape of his neck, and she smiles as he shifts his head to look up at her. 

“God, fuck No Nut November,” He breathes into her skin. 

A light laugh bubbles up out of her. 

He lets out a heavy sigh. “What day is it?” He asks.

“November fifth.” 

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Damn.” He pulls out of her, standing up to throw the condom away, almost missing the bin in the corner of the room. 

“You made it longer than I thought you would,” Michelle laughs.

Peter flops down next to her, his eyes narrowed, though there’s still a smile on his face. “What?” 

“Well, yeah. I bet Ned that you wouldn’t last a week,” she replies, patting him on the chest as she gets up, disappearing into the bathroom. 

Peter’s eyes widen before he covers them with his hands. “Oh. Shit. Ned.”

He’s still there when she comes back; still naked, too. 

“Ned, doesn’t have to know,” MJ says, falling back into the bed with him. 

Peter peeks out from underneath his arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can like, pretend you’re still doing it.”

There’s a crooked grin on Peter’s face as he stares at her—a look that makes her insides gooey and heart fuzzy. 

And she hates how much she doesn’t hate it. 

“And when Betty inevitably breaks Ned,” she shrugs. “We can split the money.”

He shakes his head, amazed and somewhat scandalized. “MJ, you’re a genius.”

Again, she shrugs. 

“So, we can keep doing—” He gestures between them, brows raised. “—And let Ned lose. The money’s ours.”

“Right.”

He lamely sticks his hand out, offering for her to shake on it.

“Deal?” He asks.

She kisses him. “Deal.”

[megabees]

I am still thinking about that Yasha scene, and how it is such a peak for her arc. We all said that the harp scene in Vo was a turning point, and it was, but I think this is the true moment we see her forgive herself, pledge herself to the Mighty Nein and focus on growth. 

When we meet Yasha, we get very little of her backstory. We learn that she follows the Stormlord in Episode 9, we learn that she’s from Xhorhas in Episode 14, we learn she has wings in Episode 19. There are other things we learn, mostly about her book and Molly, but those are the main backstory elements.  Then her first dream with the Stormlord. In Episode 20, Yasha dreams of a wasteland of worms, finding herself dizzy, confused and desparate. In this, she is saved by the Stormlord, who says “ You walk the right path. Be strong. Don't forget who you were, and decide who you will become.” 

She’s walking the right path. She’s letting these people in. Then she is kidnapped and Molly dies. She can’t let them close, she flees. But she is brought back to these people again, and they take her on a ship. She sees islands in a vision that she needs to go to.  Ship life. Fjord battles with his demons, everyone but her fights a dragon in the Happy Fun Ball, the waves crest. Second vision, on the deck of the ship. This time she sees Zuala, happy and then skeletal.  “Loss. Loss is excruciating. Loss is paralyzing. Loss is inevitable. Loss can bring sorrow, bring hate, bring cruelty and darkness.“  Burning huts, then our first glimpse of Obann, telling her her anger is beautiful. “Loss can instead teach you what is important. It offers perspective. It offers focus, might, the courage to protect what has not yet been lost. To be alone, to push others away can prevent loss, but it also prevents growth, strength, purpose. How much, how many will you lose until you find your strength?” Back to the storm. “Show me. Show me what is important, what is worth protecting. This storm was birthed only for you.”

We learn about Zuala, following this vision. “I fell in love with someone else that was not chosen for me, and we got married privately. They found out and the punishment for that is death, and they killed her and I ran away, so I... I am a coward, I guess. I don't know if my heart could ever be healed, but I'm okay with that. I feel like if it were put back together then that means Zuala would be gone. I know one day I want to go back there. I don't know where she was buried, but I have so many flowers to bring to her.” How can Yasha forgive herself when she still thinks herself a coward? She feels she is cursed to lose those who loves. 

The party goes to Xhorhas. They give the beacon up. Nott, Yeza, Veth, Bren, Luc. Third vision, in the giant stronghold. It’s Obann. Yasha is standing on a pile of bodies. They’re overturned and it becomes Molly, Jester, Caleb, all of her loved ones. Yasha is terrified. What has she done? How can she let these people in if they are bound to die? She forces a fourth vision. 

Shackled, bound, in a storm. “You have done terrible things and you are capable of doing terrible things. Your strength is not wholly your own. You are still shackled, child. Fight against them. Don’t let the iron be your strength.” She thinks of her friends, she thinks of the Mighty Nein. She is still shackled.  

We meet Obann, for real this time. Yasha remembers. Is she truly herself? She goes with him. She has no control. The Mighty Nein are just another obstacle. Her memories are faint, she is death and destruction only.  The Mighty Nein work like hell to get Yasha back. Fjord gets the Star Razor. Caduceus meets the Dusts. They kill the permaheart in the Happy Fun Ball. For Yasha, her time is spent with Obann, The Inevitable End, The Laughing Hand. They storm the Cobalt Soul. Final confrontation, in the Cathedral. Yasha is returned to herself, Obann and the Laughing Hand are killed.  Apologies. Anger. Self-Flagellation. She doesn’t want to be alone but she’s hurt these people. Fifth vision. No words, just a cliff side to climb. At the peak, a sunrise and a welcoming rain. Her wrists, unshackled. A sense of pride from the Stormlord. Growth. Forgiveness. Healing.  She begins to let these people in again. Talks with Beau, with Caleb, with Caduceus and Jester. She watches Beau almost give herself up to the hag, we head onto the water for Travelercon. Sixth vision. Again, we find ourselves at a cliffs edge, this time before a giant canyon. She leaps, she begins to fall. Calls out to the Stormlord for help (he blasts her with lightning as her help but okay). Bamfs Out the Wings, and Yasha soars. “You are worthy, both of my guidance and of your own acceptance. This path before you is long and I won’t let you stray.”

We think this is her turning point, but it is not. On Rumplecusp, we watch relationships begin to be formed more. Jester is falling apart, Caduceus is having a Very Bad Day, but Yasha is kinda thriving. She plays a beautiful harp song, carries Beau again, makes a decent amount of jokes. The viewer can see that she’s more comfortable with herself. She is healing, she is forgiving herself. Her wings, while still skeletal, begin to feather.  Most recent vision. A feather, on a pool. A storm brewing, illuminating everything around her. Do not run from yourself. Overcome what falters, and rise stronger. She grabs the feather, lets the lightning hit her, and there is a clear path above. But below, there is Zuala. She could join her, still. She could stay with her love. So many she’s lost, all below the surface, easily reached. Can she let go of her past, remembering it for the good but not letting it control her? 

I have to go. 

And Yasha leaps. With that, she hears Zuala’s final words. “I’m proud of you. Do not let me be your shackle.” 

She can see from above the continents, she is no longer tethered. Yasha forgives herself, and she is free. 

[mapleandgingeroatmeal]

CR2E109- Frigid Propositions

Ooops! I've been moving and then road-tripping the past few days, which makes for a high volume of podcast consumption and a very low amount of blogging time. I also have a week off now, so I plan on going back and categorizing my Rumblecusp thoughts, because I have many. For now though, I want to keep up with this project so I'm writing while things are fresh in my mind. So! With that said, here's 109 thoughts!

I always love a shopping episode. Is that weird? Idk, they're usually light-hearted and role-play heavy, which are two things I love. This one was no exception.

It's so funny to see everyone go completely fucking wild the first time they get any kind of wealth in their pockets. Illegal Fireworks! All the paper in the city! A million stink bombs! A 5,000 gp ring that I will never need! It makes sense for people who live so much in the moment to spend the way they do, but god its also so funny how ecstatic they are to have spends .

Fjord and Yasha are so good together?? Hey? Fjord is such a charismatic guy, he should be good at this, but Yahsa has zero impulse control and he likes to be spontaneous sometimes, so it's like she sucks all his common sense and people skills right out of him when they're together. What a great dynamic omg.

Veth is totally That Mom who makes everyone take terrible matching-christmas-pajama photos and I am so here for it.

It makes me happy to see Veth with her family, but I do always get this feeling like the relationships she has there are so forced and fleeting. They've never spent more than a few days at a time together since she's been back! Matt even makes a point of saying how much Yeza's changed and has become a different person in her absence. I honestly feel Veth and Yeza are really tip-toeing around each other at this point.

Also we went through all of Rumblecusp and we haven't once had a convo about how Veth is feeling/adjusting to her new body? I want that info so badly, but I also totally feel like this is a deliberate character choice on Sam's part. He knows how to constructively interrupt if he wanted a scene of her talking about it, which makes me think Veth is in hard Denial Mode about her feelings and wants and needs rn.

(also over in Widowbrave land, Veth could've given Caleb anything, but she chose a thong?? If that's not a you-can-join-me-and-my-husband-sometime flirt then wtf is it?)

Ashley Johnson came for my entire soul with that church scene. "I think I'm being rebuilt, too". EXCUSE ME I'M SOBBING?? I have been so in love with Yahsa's ard since Obann, some day when I have time I'm gonna scream for an hour about the Wings scene.

Ok not that long ago I said that I wasn't feeling the Fjorjester buildup super hard; I am now revising that opinion. Travis has definitely been laying the groundwork. That unicorn was Fjucking adorable, and I love how he matched Jester's goofy playful energy when he gave it to her. You can see him trying so hard to speak her language and it's just so precious.

And it was so interesting that Caleb pushed them together with the knowledge that he's been a little in love with Jester for a while. I guess he's seen enough of how her and Fjord pretty obviously feel that he's trying to get himself over that one. Also the fact that he may lose Veth has forced him to confront how in love with her he is

It really is incredible how far Beau and Caleb specifically have come. None of these guys are at all who they were at the start, but I feel like the change is most obvious on them. Caleb isn't quite at forgiving himself, but he's slowly letting himself be happy. Beau is reading books and allowing people to love her and commanding a position of responsibility.

Caduceus is finally opening up to friends about his issues and I'm so proud of him? Even if it's just that very little bit. Beyond what he said to Yasha specifically, you can really tell by the things he doesn't say that he's been doing some quiet self-reflection. I mean, "patience can curdle into apathy", hello, projecting much there bud? Think maybe you're not even talking about Yahsa's issues so much any more?

also we got a hint of aro/ace Cad here with his comments about finding the dancing awkward. I am so excited that talks is back, and I cannot wait for someone to ask Tailesen about the choice to create a character with that identity specifically. God I love Caduceus Clay with all my heart and soul. I would die for this wise baby cow man.

AAA I've gotten to Eiselcross I cannot fuckin belive I'm here!! I know I'm still many episodes behind, but I've officially reached the place where I really started seeing enough cr around my lurker feeds to decide I should get into it myself. So it honestly feels like I've reached some arbitrary "caught up" point in my head, bc from here on out I vaguely saw fan reactions to live episodes as they were released. I know whats coming here, and I am SO EXCITED to see it all for reals.

I might be able to do a pseudo-livebloggy thing with the next few episodes since I'm on break, so if there's anybody out there who actually reads these things and was sad I skipped so much, maybe that will make it up to you.

[whumpqin]

Enough

What’s this? Another chapter? Oh man! (Actually I had written this chapter before the other one, but I needed something in between them for, uh, reasons.)

Link to Masterlist

Taglist:  @faewhump​ @galaxywhump​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​ @insanitywishes​  @burtlederp​ @whumpasaurus101​

CW: Non-fatal suicide attempt, Whumpee wanting to die to escape abuse, self harm, fucky thoughts about pain, blood, biting, self-vampirism/drinking one’s own blood, dehydration, starvation, spiders, referenced torture, referenced eye whump, pet whump, explicit vomiting / nausea, monster whumpee, creepy/intimate whumpers, 

Word Count: 2,149

There’s a spider in the basement today. It’s crawling in the corner, weaving a small web to catch some of the small flying gnats that were down here.

Like a magnet on similar sides, Elisha found himself curled into the opposite corner, repelled by the sight of it. Him and spiders… don’t get along, usually. Especially when they were in the same space. Before he would simply avoid their space and they would avoid his. Now, there was no getting out of watching it move about the room, and he could only pray that it wouldn’t come over to his side. He could never bring himself to kill it.

Most of all, he wasn’t sure he could kill it. All of his limbs were so weak from not being able to move around, and even shifting his toes back and forth took almost all of his energy. Even after his legs had mostly healed, and he could draw them up to his knees if he were able to with minimal aches, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t go anywhere.

And God, he ached.

Not a point on his skin was unmarked. Elisha had been beaten, whipped, cut, burned, rubbed raw, and broken in every sense of the word. His bones wept underneath his skin, streaks of  agony that fluttered through his body whenever he thought about moving. His lips cracked and split from the lack of water - despite being given a few gracious drops here and there - and his mouth felt dry. His insides felt like they were hollow, as if nothing was left of him but this shell that his Masters could torture to their greatest desire.

Then there was that spider and all eight of its legs moving on its web and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He couldn’t do anything about anything. Elisha was stuck in this moment of time, a hollow outline of himself, waiting for his Masters to finally tire of him. Maybe they’d be merciful enough to end his suffering, bury him out in the fields where he’d nourish the plants with his marrow. 

He had always wanted to be a tree. Or a bush. Or wheat. Or literally anything that wasn’t what he was now.

Elisha couldn’t stand himself.

His bones ached, his arms and legs he could barely move even if he really wanted to, his missing eye still moved around in its socket, like a ghost of what was there, his mouth was so dry eating sand might have been nourishing, he was so hungry ripping into the stone with his fangs wouldn’t even settle the constant rumble of his belly, and then there was that fucking spider-

Horns scraped against the stone again, bringing about a familiar and faint ache from them. The feeling was satisfying, something he could control, a pain that he could create himself. His Masters had tried to threaten him to stop but even their prying eyes didn’t stay on him forever.

The thought made him smile, a wide grin outstretched to either side of his face that didn’t reach his eyes, where they teared up and ran down. Elisha tasted more blood from his empty eye. Jeremiah would be angry that he sullied his bandage again like that.

It wasn’t enough. It didn’t hurt enough.

He swallowed, drinking in what little tears ran into his mouth. Tasting the copper tang of his own blood mixed with salt. It was incredible.

Elisha was losing his mind. He was well aware of that. But it wasn’t like his Masters were going to help him with that, were they? Aridai might call him cute or quirky again, and Jeremiah might just tell him to stop being weird.

Haha, he should have bitten that woman who called him weird. Maybe then he would have been a normal Cambion.

He still could bite, he supposed.

Elisha’s left eye angled downwards, where his hands splayed open in his lap. The faded tally marks against his pale green skin were evident along his arm, reminding him of all of his rules. Those damned rules, forcing him to be perfect or else suffer horrible consequences.

It’s not hard to hate them.

He bared his fangs at his arm, forcing all of his energy into the limb so that he could raise it to his head. It lifted slowly, presenting the tally marks to himself as he sank his teeth in as hard as he could. Pain blossomed, swirling with his other aches and pains as he gasped from the feeling. Blood welled around the wound and dripped onto his tongue, flooding his senses with its taste.

It was with a sudden surge that Elisha realized he wanted more. More of himself, of his blood, even with the panicked nagging in his brain begging him to stop. His teeth ripped at the skin of the tally mark, sending a jolt of agonizing pain that made his mind go numb to everything else for a moment. Elisha swiped his tongue over the larger mark, relishing in the ability to drink something after what felt like days of nothing. Sparks of scattered pain littered his arm, screaming in agony at his betrayal, but there was something sickeningly desirable at doing this to himself.

Aridai didn’t even need to tell him to do this. Would they be proud of his lack of hesitation, at his resolve?

He soon found it too unbearable to move the arm and let it collapse against his lap. Elisha licked his lips, tasting the dirt and blood and his tears mixing together in an unholy concoction. All of it his own.

He forced his other arm to lift up, bringing his wrist close to his face. Elisha was so tired. He just wanted to see the sun again. A part of him had a feeling he never would.

It was slower this time, as he sank his teeth into his wrist, trying not to blindside himself with pain. Blood welled into his mouth again and Elisha drank, relaxing against the wall as he ripped and tore into himself. He ignored the sickened feeling from his stomach and the woozy, hazy feeling from his head, until his body wouldn’t allow him to. Elisha coughed, spitting up his own blood as he felt his stomach churn, feeling himself go limp at his vision blurred.

Distantly he heard the hatch to the basement open.

Elisha squinted, righting his vision just as boots stepped down, and he caught sight of lighter hair that he knew was blonde as Jeremiah blindly searched for the light switch. He hoped he had arrived too late to do anything.

When the light flicked on, Jeremiah’s neutral expression turned into immediate horror - a widening of the eyes and gaping mouth that Elisha had never seen from him, ever - as he stared at Elisha’s bleeding form. Blood still welled from his wrist, pooling into the dirty ground around him. Elisha looked up to his Sir in misery and elation, completely pleased in how he made himself suffer.

“What the fuck?!” Jeremiah all but shrieked. He dove for Elisha and picked up the arm where he’d bitten off the tally, holding his hand tightly over the wound to get it to stop bleeding. “What the fuck did you- holy shit. ARIDAI!”

Jeremiah had seen his wrist. He shifted forward, tightly wrapping his hand around the bite mark and putting heavy pressure on it. Elisha’s lip curled at the attempt, pulling away from his Sir. Just let him bleed, let it happen. Why was he trying so hard for a stupid pet who couldn’t get anything right?

“Stop, Caleb stop- stay the fuck still,” Jeremiah breathed, but there was no lasting anger behind it.

Quick footsteps and a flash of red noted the presence of Aridai. They stood back several feet or so, staring at the scene unfolding before them with genuine surprise, sleeves folded up and water dripping from their hands like they had just been washing something. Jeremiah craned his head backwards to look at them.

“Fucking help me, Aridai!” he yelled, pulling them out of their stupor.

“What the hell happened?!” Aridai stooped down next to Jeremiah, taking one hand while he took the other. Elisha’s eyebrows furrowed as they ripped off a piece of their own shirt to tightly tie it against his wrist.

“I don’t- I don’t know, I just- I just came down here and-and he was like this,” Jeremiah quickly explained, falling over his words while he inspected Elisha from head to toe, trying to make sure that the bites against his arms were the only things wrong with him.

“Shit. What the hell were you thinking, Caleb?” Aridai demanded, grabbing him by the chin and forcing his head up to look at them.

The motion finally made the dizziness in his head and the churning in his stomach mix together, and Elisha’s chest heaved, unable to stand his own blood coating his throat and stomach. He vomited up a mixture of bile and blood, coating his chest and Aridai’s arm as they pulled back in shock.

“Ugh, the fuck?!” they cursed, flicking their hand and holding it up in disgust. “What the hell did you do, decide to become a fucking vampire?!”

“Aridai, I don’t- I don’t know what to do, we can’t just take him to a hospital, can we?”

“No fucking hospitals, Jer. We handle this ourselves.” Aridai tied the shirt piece tighter against Elisha’s wrist, then wiped their hand on their pants to get rid of the extra blood and other fluids. “Hold his mouth open for me.”

Jeremiah did the same, instead using his belt to tie a makeshift tourniquet to stop too much blood flow. Elisha writhed under his Masters’ touch as they forced his mouth open. Jeremiah curled his fingers enough so that he couldn’t snap his jaws shut and bite, while Aridai practically stuck their fingers down his throat. Elisha gagged, the nausea in his stomach rolling uncomfortably.

“Come on… get that shit outta your system, diamond,” Aridai pressed, curling their index and middle finger to make him gag again. Elisha’s stomach heaved again, as he spat up more blood and bile from his throat. He let out a miserable cry, weak limbs clawing hopelessly at his Masters to get them to stop. “No, stop that. Take your punishment like a good boy and throw that blood back up. Shit’s bad for you.”

Once more he gagged, but this time only bile rose from his stomach. Aridai and Jeremiah let him go, satisfied, and turned their attention towards his wounds.

“We can’t leave him in the basement. Stupid thing would probably die of infection,” Aridai said. “Can’t leave him in the kitchen, he’ll just run. Same thing with the living room.”

“I’m not leaving him in the bathroom.” Jeremiah sighed, glancing up to the basement door. “Guess it’s the bedroom, then. We’ll be able to keep an eye on him through the night. I’ll have to put up some foundations so he doesn’t get loose.”

“Alright. You work on that while I dress these. Help me get him upstairs. He’s- goddammit he’s still fucking bleeding,” they hissed, putting pressure on his wrist again. Aridai’s head fell in annoyance and stress as they wrapped their hands tightly around his wound. “Caleb, honey, you’ve gotta stop. That’s enough of this little tantrum of yours.”

Elisha whined, tears flowing freely from his eyes. Everything hurt, and where the hollow once was it had been replaced not by satisfaction, but by discomfort and pain and sickness. His head fell forward in despair, butting into Jeremiah’s before his Sir pulled away in a hiss of pain, cursing as he grabbed Caleb’s horn and pressed his head back up against the wall.

“We need to get him some ice. Ari, what if he, he doesn’t stop bleeding? What are we going to do?” Jeremiah’s voice was just on this side of calm, an odd tense note in his voice. Panic.

“He’s just a pet, Jer. If he dies, he dies, and we’ll get a new one.” Aridai fished for the key in their pocket and tossed it to their partner. Then, their cruel eyes turned towards Caleb. “But we’re not going to let that happen, if we can. There’s still so much fun we can have, isn’t there Caleb?”

He closed his eyelid, breathing hard through his nose. They didn’t repeat themselves, or demand that he give and answer. Instead, Elisha caught their faint, hushed whispers about moving him back upstairs. Talk of blindfolds, muzzles, anything to keep him from seeing upstairs again. Not because they didn’t want him to see it, but because he didn’t deserve it. 

Elisha figured that was right, for the most part. They hadn’t given him permission to look upstairs, yet.

They wouldn’t even give him permission to die.

[the-littlest-goblin]

fic writer tag game, tagged by @mithrilwren​!

Name: the-littlest-goblin

Fandom(s): Only Critical Role as of now. I’ve had ideas for other fandoms in the past but never got the motivation to actually write them.

Where you post: Ao3 primarily, with some shorter fics posted here on tumblr.

Most Popular One Shot (by kudos) this year: the lone wolf dies (also my shortest fic on ao3), a post-97 reaction. Can’t say this is the work I’m most proud of, but I can understand why it was popular; we of the Essek stans were all ravenous for more context after that whirlwind of an episode.

Most Popular One Shot (by kudos) overall: the risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math, my first serious foray into fic (only preceded on my ao3 account by a short, fluffy test of the cr fandom waters). I have sort of mixed feelings on this one - I’m certainly proud of it, but I’ve vastly improved as a writer since then. Still, I’m thrilled people liked it, and I’ll never top it in terms of title.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos) this year: I’ve only written one multi-chapter... so it’s if all the shadows disappeared by default! My attempt to rehabilitate the high school au into something marginally less cringey. Did I succeed? That’s up to you, I guess, but either way I had a blast working on it. I hope I get the right combination of inspiration and motivation to do another multi-chap soon.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos) overall: ^

Favourite story you’ve written so far: Definitely my most recent, rational animals: speculative shadowgast fic exploring Liam’s idea of a future where Caleb and Essek are enemy spies with a long-standing sexual tension. Not to plug it or anything, but it’s imo the most ambitious, polished, and poignant thing I’ve written by far.

Fic you were nervous to post: hmmmm that’s tricky. It could go to if all the shadows disappeared or legacy (not so lucky). Both had what I perceived to be major detractors baked in: who likes hs au’s anymore, and I as a reader generally avoid oc-centric fics. I feared a lackluster or outright critical audience response.The former’s popularity was a pleasant surprise, the latter’s lack thereof was less of a blow to my self-esteem than I feared. Both were learning experiences in dealing with nerves and external validation. 

How do you choose your titles?: Google search “quotes about *insert theme/motif here*”. Picking out titles is one of my favorite parts of writing fic and I highly recommend this method if you find it a struggle or a slog. Exceptions exist when I think of a title before I’m finished, as with the risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math (we all know the troubled birds meme) and rational animals (lyrics from “Eat Your Heart Out” by Saint Motel).

Do you outline?: When need be, as with longer or more complicated plots. You can probably assume >10k words had an outline, <10k I just started typing and fixed it up later.

Complete: 10! A nice, humble, round number. More to come in time, I’m sure. Also more like 15ish if you count the tumblr-only fics floating around.

In-Progress: Not a whole lot at the moment. I have a document for a shadowgast pride & prejudice au, but don’t get too excited, it’s the farthest thing from finished and I haven’t touched it in months.

Coming soon/not yet started: "Coming soon” implies I have any notion or control over when I complete projects. For “not yet started” I don’t have any concrete ideas rn, but I would like to add a least one other fandom to my repertoire eventually.

Prompts?: I still have one outstanding from when I asked for them... a month ago? two months? I probably won’t be opening up another invitation anytime soon. If you want to send one unsolicited I don’t really mind, but I offer no guarantee whatsoever that it will be completed.

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: I think we’ve established that I don’t have much in the works at the moment. 

[potatoesandsunshine]

truly incoherent late-night ramblings about the mighty nein and pride under the cut. an unorganized stream of consciousness basically. i’m so tired i have so many Thoughts

cad saying tonight that nobody in the m9 is vain (can’t remember if he said “none of us are vain” or “none of you are vain” but i’m going with the first one bc i can’t watch it again till it goes up on yt) really got me thinking because my immediate reaction was “no? that’s not true?” but i couldn’t figure out why exactly i thought that - so naturally i spent the rest of the episode pondering it.

like... the members of the mighty nein are each in their own way juggling a massive load of insecurity and in some cases just pure self-loathing but they’re still very... they’re not vain, but they are proud to the point of arrogance which is just super interesting from a character perspective (just wanna note here this is not a “and this makes x character A Bad Person” hot take or whatever, characters have character flaws and that’s what makes them interesting to me, please don’t come to my inbox saying i hate fjord or caleb or caduceus or veth or jester or beau or yasha because that’s just not the case) anyway imo yasha is currently the only one who hasn’t shown a big moment of this flaw, everybody else has. yes it’s possible i don’t remember a moment for yasha at this second but tbh she’s spent so much time getting controlled by other forces this campaign like :( give yasha a break challenge :( she gets one from this post

early on beau had her kind of rebel without a cause, too cool for school thing going on - to me that’s a kind of pride? like it came from a feeling of isolation and disconnect from the people around her and the structures her life had operated in and also the idea that “i’m the only one who sees how bullshit everything is” that’s (at least in my own experience) a really common feeling in late teens/early twenties. honestly the first moment that shook her out of it was dairon imo (i know that a lot of beau’s change is attributed to molly’s death but i honestly think it started back with that brawl in the warehouse) and dairon has continued to be a (flawed themselves) check against arrogance for beau which is really interesting to me? anyway continuing

fjord’s whole persona that kinda wasn’t a persona during the pirates arc (i’m talking specifically about the captain pursuing his own ends, not about the accent thing) was very much a character based on knowing more about the world than everybody else did, even though i don’t think fjord himself believed it? honestly for all that you can say about fjord i think he’s lowest on the list in terms of pride (besides yasha!! who isn’t on this list!!) bc he’s very honest about the fact that he often feels like he just does not know what’s going on around him. props to that bc it is hard to do.

veth’s biggest Moment of this (and pride just doesn’t feel like the right word but i don’t know how else to capture the meaning, the idea of Knowing Better than everyone else i guess? you know what i mean) that i can think of is the letter to astrid in zadash that everyone screamed about bc caleb was the current fandom favorite sadboi at the time; it was such a big moment of trying to arrange someone else’s life for them that’s like. like it’s a Big Moment idk how to explain it. i think a lot of the responsibility she feels for yezza and luc also relies on the premise that she Knows Best which again is super interesting because it clearly causes her a lot of guilt that she’s not doing Enough for them in her own eyes when it’s like... like... talk to each other... idk idk i have Feelings about the brenattos. Arranging the lives of other people, no matter your intentions, is imo a thing that comes from thinking you Know Better than they do. 

caleb... i so do not want to re-litigate the disintegrate discourse that was imo truly a waste of time last week but i do agree with the idea that caleb’s got ye olde mythological-level hubris. the man has a goal of turning back time to rewrite his own mistakes and like it’s not just a dream it’s a Goal He’s Working Towards which means that either 1) he believes it’s possible for him to do it or 2) he can’t admit that it isn’t possible and he has to live with ‘his’ mistakes (i can’t get into the caleb stuff rn but uhhh it’s not as much a personal failing as you believe it is caleb). both of these viewpoints are like. so dependent on viewing himself as A Power That Affects The Universe instead of someone who is affected by it which is kind of the sentiment i’m trying to get at idk idk it’s late i’m tired

it’s interesting with jester and caduceus for a couple reasons but the fact that they’re both literally blessed by gods is like... like i can’t say they’re unduly proud (i don’t really think that any of the m9 are like unduly proud) because they’re literally made More Important by the deities of the setting from the moment of introduction but we do still see really interesting stuff from both of them imo

caduceus thinks he knows better than everybody else which is something i think we’ve seen from the beginning as well? that’s part of why he’s kind of set himself up as the Wise Councilor of the group (and if you ask me, why he seems unable to reach out for support of his own - all the instances of someone digging deeper into him were instigated by other people from what i can remember right now) and it’s been neat to see him reconciling things he Knows Are Right from his time in the cemetery with a more complicated reality in the wider world. it’s hard for me to say that cad’s arrogant because he thinks he’s privy to the literal divine plan when he is privy to an actual divine plan thanks to the wildmother but i think it’s interesting to see it in the small moments. we saw it more earlier i think? but like this part of his character isn’t Gone. as long as he’s got himself designated as the group moral compass i think there’s an element of this in play. 

and jester ohh jester i love u i’m so sorry everything has been so hard for so long like aaaa imagine you find out your best friend (who is also your god) has been lying to you for all of your friendship and also lying to all of his followers (because it turns out he’s not a god, technically) that’s so hard anyway. anway. i don’t wanna derail into talking about how much i love jester but i love her ok? ok. anyway jester’s current defense mechanism is retreating into the fact that she’s the best follower of the traveler and he loves her the most, because she’s Special (which again, her god told her this there’s literally nothing i can say against it) but we’re seeing that kind of fracture in an interesting way if you ask me? because the fact of the matter is, whenever jester asks a question about ‘the followers of the traveler’ she is implicitly also asking a question about herself (this is why i was so fascinated by her convo with fjord tonight also). it only works for So Long to keep repeating that you’re special when you’re not sure about it anymore oh jester i am so worried about u ohhh :( i am so sleepy but i have so many thoughts

[strvwberryblcnde]

👫 teddy/lana

send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons i have about our muses’ relationship.

ok so. lana has a habit of sharing food as one of her many love languages i think. she jst likes.... giving ppl things even if it means she’ll have less. she’d let a wolf make a meal out of her n eat every last piece if she loved him n she knew he’d feel full. bt of everyone i feel like teddy hs always been the one she does this w most.... like even when they first met in the cafeteria she gave him spoonfuls of her greek yogurt n honey. whenever she’s eating fruit (which is a lot she’s obsessed w strawberries n peaches n grapes n tangerines n oranges) she’ll ALWAYS give him half whether tht’s segmenting up pieces or dividing bites evenly between them n Without Fail it’ll always b half tht she gives him whereas she might give other ppl like.... a bite or a piece or two bt......... it’s rly specific each time tht she gives teddy half. it isn’t even intentional it’s jst like a subconscious thing bt if we were to slide on spectacles n analyse this in an english class fr it’s Meaning then. looks at u then looks away. i think this represents the way tht teddy hs always felt like another half of her. they’re one in the same. in a lot of ways they’re very similar mayb even................ TOO similar n that’s why it’s been sch a fking.... bastard of trying to work things out ever bc they very much hv the same rampant commitment issues n bad timing n fears of never being gd enough. i feel like in the past a guy she ws dating (noncommittally as lana tended to do these things) wld have even noticed this n it would have bugged him a lot just like... how close she was w teddy in general............. n he would’ve one day brought it up in the middle of a fight he’d picked jst cutting away from what they were talking abt to be like. u only ever give me one bite but u would give teddy all of it if he asked u to. tell me i’m wrong. n she’d scoff out a laugh in disbelief looking around like omg...... all this over a fruit...... what are u even sa-- n he’d cut her off n be like. literally tell me i’m wrong lana. n she wouldn’t even b able to after going quiet n rly realising what it was he was actually Saying. he’d storm out. relationship over. icons of always being a little bit in love w each other n not even noticing it until someone else points it out <3

god. sighs dramatically at the idea i jst had. i cn imagine in la verse lana being rly drunk getting bk from a date one time n inevitably it was just some random loser since she’s back to dating Trash in this era bc she just truly cbas trying after her breakup w dom n............. it would be like a parallel to tht one time they’d fallen out over him sleeping w imogen when she ws upset w him bt crawled into his bed drunk at a party just to lie w him for a little while despite everything...... she wld have gone to his instead of hers on some drunken automatic pilot n somehow got into his room n..... she’d clamber in n flop nxt to him n maybe it wld be funny at first if he woke up n was like lana what the fk...... are u doing here.... so disorientated n confused.......... n she’d just be joking initially bt very clearly drunk like making fun of her date talking abt how he kept complimenting his own hair n calling himself a tesla in a sea of prius’ n checking himself out in every window they passed n then the laughter wld slowly trickle off n she’d go kind of quiet fr a moment n maybe teddy wld assume she ws passing out bc she’d drank sm bt after a short silence she’d perk up with a mumble out of nowhere n, barely conscious of what she’s saying, b like “why didn’t u wait for me like u said u would”. n if he was like.............. huh? she’d have her eyes shut n just b murmuring half awake then open them sleepily to look at him n rly quietly be like........ “u promised”. mayb she’d even reach out to gingerly trace his face bt then her wrist wld go slack bc she was rly tired n she’d just wriggle closer n tuck her head to get comfy n be like “warm” then promptly fall asleep. JSGSFKGHFHGKHGSFKH. literally jst jolting him awake w this rarely serious n genuine conversation then passing out. jst the worst fk teddy’s life bet he lay there staring at the ceiling fr so long after tht one <3 lana wouldn’t remember this in the morning either she’d wake up like why am i here........ did we meet up last night............ teddy jst like >_> u crashed here it was nbd.

i picture the first week they moved to LA lana wldn’t have admitted it bt she wld be feeling rly homesick............ radcliffe was very much like the first place she truly felt was her home n she’d miss all of the ppl there n just the general area A Lot............. one night i can see her jst wanting to spend with teddy to have like a sense of familiarity in an unfamiliar city (even if she’s spent a decent amt of time there over the yrs bc of jameson records hving studios etc bt still) n i’m imagining them like. breaking into an indoor swimming complex that her n her friends in high skl used to break into in the summers when they vacationed yrs ago.... maybe lana still has a key cut tht works from a connection she made bk then idk <3 it doesn’t matter <3 n they’d inevitably be drunk n just messing around n splashing each other n doing handstand competitions n all the typical..... fun frivolous childish antics lana n teddy tend to get into whenever they’re around each other.... truly jst transformed into big kids whenever they’re in the other’s company..... inspired a little by this gifset jst in terms of the playing around underwater vibe. anyway. mayb they mostly dry off bt they end up climbing up onto the rooftop after n it’s a baking summer night anyway so it isn’t like they’ll catch a cold being damp bt they share a big fluffy towel n bottle of rum between them huddled overlooking the lights of the city. n maybe somehow it gets onto lana admitting how much she misses home n how it’s kind of weird being here especially bc she’s further from caleb. she’s never been this far from him since he was away in the army n we all kno hw tht turned out. mayb she’d go a bit quiet after saying this bt then i think she’d take his hand w their fingers laced together n she’d rest her head on his shoulder n be like. at least i’ll always have u. it’s like i took a piece of home w me. we’ve always had each other like that. then she’d perk up n lift her head n be like let’s make a deal. i’ll be ur home if u’ll be mine. ok? n make him pinky promise. i dnt think she’d quite consider the sentimentality in tht bt 😔 she nvr rly does she jst says what feels natural without attention paid to the deeper meaning tht motivated it n.... sighs. looks at u then looks away....

this is inspired by tht scene in don’t trust the b in apartment 23 where she’s like “look. that video of me getting rawed by my best friend means the world to me.” KJGFGJKSFHKGHKSFGHKFSHKGSHGK god. inevitably in lana n teddy’s prime when they were literally hooking up 24/7 in earlier college yrs they made.............. a few videos. i mean it’s jst realistic. it’s jst common sense. probably even a feature length film at one point. n i had this idea where bc teddy’s trying to get into acting etc mayb if he gets an agent his agent is like.... do u have any dirt u need to take care of? loose ends to tie up? incriminating files to delete? sex tapes? n if he was like... ya..... mayb his agent wld have asked him to delete them if he still had them on his computer or w.e i mean i kno lana wld n wouldn’t have deleted them she wld have been proud of their work of art...... bt maybe he told lana abt this just laughing abt it n the atmosphere ws lighthearted at first bc she’d find it rly funny too like ommmmggggggg i’m a skeleton in ur closet tht is so fun if u get famous i cld be blasted all over perez hilton that’s kind of sexy..... bt............... mayb she’d as a joke be like. mayb we shld watch it one last time before u delete it. kind of like a funeral service. a goodbye party. sailing out the flaming viking raft n paying our respects u know??? n they were joking bk n forth bt then she’d be like. seriously tho mayb we should? growing more accustomed to the idea actually being a genuine one even tho tht is fking. the WORST idea i have EVER heard in the world like i do NOT know how lana wld think she has the self control to do that bt in her head she’s like. teddy n i are jst best friends now... it’s fine........... we’re open w each other it’s just a bit of fun.......... n then i can imagine if he went along w this it’s like a game of chicken they’re playing w each other where they’re both like fking hell shd we do this.... dnt wna seem like I’M the one tht thinks i can’t handle it........ n it’s some back n forth like nick n jess in new girl where they’re daring each other to have the threeway w the landlord. bt then like not even.... a minute into watching it as they’re both silently holding their breath n crunching popcorn they mde for the occasion (insisting on acting like it ws just a normal movie night) lana wld literally have to be like. slams laptop shut. UMMMM i forgot.... i....... have a very important meeting......... n teddy’s just like. meeting? u don’t have a job... what are u ta-- n she’s like A MEETING A VERY IMPORTANT MEETING...... very blatantly squirming around as she slowly gets up n tries to head fr the door... n teddy’s like.... taking the excuse without much question too like... ya i have to run lines actually i jst remembered gt an audition coming up..... n they’re both like ya haha... maybe some other time.... or maybe just delete it it’s whatever.... anyway we gtg haha... bye.... ttyl...... lana wld literally hv to SPRINT out of there to go home n. deal w how flustered this made her i won’t lie. she bumps into parker n is all flushed in the face n is just like CAN’T TALK BYE n takes off sprinting again like some kind of freak. it’d b a train wreck. i jst think that’d b rly funny tho n dare i say it? it’s canon. 

[gra-sonas]

Down to Earth With Tyler Blackburn

I‘ve never met Tyler Blackburn before—except that I have. Maybe it would be more accurate to say I’ve met versions of Tyler Blackburn. I’ve spent time with the actor on multiple occasions while covering his TV series Pretty Little Liars, the soapy teen-centered murder mystery that regularly generated more than a million tweets throughout its seven-season run. Just two weeks ago I reconnected with him in a lush meadow of flowering mustard outside Angeles National Forest, the site of his PLAYBOY photo shoot. But the Tyler Blackburn I’m meeting today at his home in the Atwater Village neighborhood of Los Angeles is in many ways an entirely different man.

When he greets me at the front door, Blackburn is relaxed, barefoot and still wearing what appears to be bed head. His disposition is unmistakably freer—lighter—than it’s been during our previous encounters. Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised by this. Six days earlier the 32-year-old actor came out publicly as bisexual in an online interview with The Advocate.

The announcement is clearly at the forefront of his mind as we sit down at his dining room table.

Almost immediately he starts to gush about the positive, and at times overwhelming, feedback he has received over the past few days. Within minutes he’s in tears. He tries to lighten the mood with a self-effacing quip, but now I’m in tears too. Then he tells me he can’t remember my question.

I haven’t even asked one yet, I reply.

“It just makes me feel, Wow, the world’s a little bit safer than I thought it was,” Blackburn says.

The most affecting response he’s received thus far has been from his father, whom Blackburn didn’t meet until he was five years old. Although he avoids offering any more details about that early chapter, he says, “Feeling like I’m a little bit different always made me wonder if he likes me, approves of me, loves me. He called, and it was just every single thing you would want to hear from your dad: ‘That was a bold move. I’m so proud of you.’ It was wild.”

Blackburn can’t pinpoint the exact moment he knew he was bisexual but says he was curious from the age of 16. It wasn’t until two years ago, though, that he decided to approach his publicity team about coming out publicly. At that point, Pretty Little Liars had wrapped, and the actor was without a job. So Blackburn and his team agreed they needed to hold off on making an announcement until his career was stable again. The lack of resolution weighed on him. “A year ago I was in a very bad place,” he says, adding that he has struggled with depression and anxiety. “I didn’t know what my career was going to be or where it was going. My personal life—my relationship with myself—was in a really bad place.” His casting on the CW’s Roswell, New Mexico, adapted from the same Melinda Metz book series as the WB’s 1999 cult favorite Roswell, seems to have come at the right time. Blackburn portrays Alex, a gay Army veteran whose relationship with Michael, a bisexual alien, has attracted legions of “Malex” devotees since the show’s January debut. Roswell, New Mexico has already been renewed for a second season—a feat for any series in this era of streaming, let alone one involving gay exophilia. Playing a character whose queerness has been so widely embraced by fans no doubt nudged Blackburn closer to revealing his truth for the first time since becoming an actor 15 years ago. (As he told The Advocate, “I’m so tired of caring so much. I just want to…feel okay with experiencing love and experiencing self-love.”) Still, he was somewhat reluctant. His hesitation was rooted in the fact that he wouldn’t be able to control what came next: the social pressures that often come with being one of the first—in his case, one of the first openly bisexual male actors to lead a prime-time television series. “If you stand for this thing, and you say it publicly, there’s suddenly the expectation of ‘Now your job is this,’ ” he says. “Even if someone’s like, ‘Now you’re going to go be the spokesperson’—well, no. If I don’t want to, I don’t want to. And that doesn’t mean I’m a half-assed queer.” Full disclosure: I previously wrote for a Pretty Little Liars fan site. In 2012 I published a listicle that ranked the show’s hottest male characters. Blackburn cracks up when I tell him this and wants to know whether he bested Ian Harding, his former co-star. After I inform him that his character (hacker with a heart of gold Caleb Rivers) finished second behind Harding’s (Ezra Fitz, a student-dating teacher) I promise to organize a recount. The always-modest Blackburn concedes that Harding is the rightful winner. (If anyone ever compiles a BuzzFeed article titled “Most Embarrassing Moments for Former Bloggers,” I’ll be offended if I’m not in the mix.)

Blackburn makes it clear that he has not always been comfortable with his status as a teen heartthrob. Knowing he was queer made it “hard to embrace it and enjoy it.” Growing up, he was bullied for being perceived as effeminate and was frequently subjected to slurs and homophobic jokes. He describes himself as a late bloomer who took longer than usual to shed his baby fat. He didn’t have many friends, nor did he date much in high school. A lifelong fan of musical theater and the performing arts, Blackburn signed with a Hollywood management company at the age of 17. His team at the time warned him that projecting femininity would hinder his success. An especially painful moment came after he’d auditioned for a role as a soldier and the producers wrote back that Blackburn had seemed “a little gay.” “Those two managers were so twisted in their advice to me,” Blackburn says. “They just said, ‘We don’t care if you are, but no one can know. You can’t walk into these rooms and seem gay. It’s not gonna work.’ I remember the shame, because I’ve been dealing with the feeling that I’m not a normal boy for my entire life.” After landing a recurring role on Days of Our Lives in 2010, Blackburn scored his big break when he appeared midway through the first season of Pretty Little Liars. “I was in Tyler’s first scene, so I got to be one of the first to work with him,” Shay Mitchell, who starred opposite Blackburn, tells PLAYBOY. “Right away, I knew he was special. Since the day I met him, Tyler always struck me as very authentic and very true to himself.” Fans instantly adored his on-screen love affair with Hanna Marin, played by Ashley Benson. The pair became known as “Haleb,” and Blackburn went on to win three Teen Choice Awards—surfboard trophies that solidify one’s status as a teen idol—in categories including Choice TV: Chemistry.

According to Blackburn, during the show’s seven years on the air, he and Benson bonded over their mutual distaste for the tabloid stardom that comes with headlining a TV phenomenon lapped up by teens. Today he fondly reflects on their on-camera chemistry. “It felt good,” he says. “It felt real.” Of course, rumors swirled that the pair’s romance was actually quite real. “We never officially dated,” he tells me. “In navigating our relationship—as co-workers but also as friends—sometimes the lines blurred a little. We had periods when we felt more for each other, but ultimately we’re good buds. For the most part, those rumors made us laugh. But then sometimes we’d be like, ‘Did someone see us hugging the other night?’ She was a huge part of a huge change in my life, so I’ll always hold her dear.” Blackburn also shares a unique connection with Mitchell outside their friendship. Similar to what Blackburn is now experiencing with Roswell, Mitchell was embraced by the LGBTQ community for playing a lesbian character, Emily Fields, whose same-sex romances on Pretty Little Liars were among the first on ABC Family (the former name of the Freeform network). Over the years, Blackburn had come out to select members of the Pretty Little Liars cast and crew, including creator I. Marlene King. But as the show approached its swan song, he started to recognize how hiding a part of himself was negatively affecting his life. He entered his first serious relationship with a man while filming the show’s final season. Not knowing how to tell co-workers—or whether to, say, invite his boyfriend to an afterparty—caused him to “go into a little bit of a shell” on the set.

“My boyfriend was hanging out with me at a Pretty Little Liars convention, and some of the fans were like, ‘Are you Tyler’s brother?’ ” Blackburn says. “He was very patient, but then afterward he was like, ‘That kind of hurt me.’ It was a big part of why we didn’t work out, just because he was at a different place than I was. Unfortunately, we don’t really talk anymore, but if he reads this, I hope he knows that he helped me so much in so many ways.” At that, Blackburn tearfully excuses himself and takes a private moment to regain his composure. “I never remember a time when I didn’t enjoy being with him,” says Harding, Blackburn’s former co-star. He says he saw the actor “start to become the person he is now when we worked together” but believes Blackburn needed to first come to terms with the idea that he could become “the face” of bisexuality. “Tyler’s discovering a way to bring real meaning with his presence in the world,” Harding says, “as an actor and as a whole human.”

Once the teenage Blackburn realized he was attracted to guys, he began “experimenting” with men while taking care not to become too emotionally attached. “I just didn’t feel I had the inner strength or the certainty that it was okay,” he says. It wasn’t until a decade later, at the age of 26, that he began to “actively embrace my bisexuality and start dating men, or at least open myself up to the idea.” He says he’s been in love with two women and had great relationships with both, but he “just knew that wasn’t the whole story.” 

He was able to enjoy being single in his 20s in part because he wasn’t confident enough in his identity to commit to any one person in a relationship. “I had to really be patient with myself—and more so with men,” he says. “Certain things are much easier with women, just anatomically, and there’s a freedom in that.” He came out of that period with an appreciation for romance and intimacy. Sex without an emotional component, he discovered, didn’t have much appeal. “As I got older, I realized good sex is when you really have something between the two of you,” says Blackburn, who’s now dating an “amazing” guy. “It’s not just a body. The more I’ve realized that, the more able I am to be settled in my sexuality. I’m freer in my sexuality now. I’m very sexual; it’s a beautiful aspect of life.” Blackburn has, however, felt resistance from the LGBTQ community, particularly when bisexual women have questioned his orientation. “Once I decided to date men, I was like, Please just let me be gay and be okay with that, because it would be a lot fucking easier. At times, bisexuality feels like a big gray zone,” he says. (For example, Blackburn knows his sexuality may complicate how he becomes a father.) “I’ve had to check myself and say, I know how I felt when I was in love with women and when I slept with women. That was true and real. Don’t discredit that, because you’re feeding into what other people think about bisexuality.” He clearly isn't the first rising star who's had to deal with outside opinions of how to handle his Hollywood coming-out. I spoke to Brianna Hildebrand just before the release of 2018's smash hit Deadpool 2, and she explained that she had previously met with publicists who had offered to keep her sexuality under wraps, even though the actress herself had never suggested this. Meanwhile, ahead of the launch of last fall's Fantastic Beasts sequel, Ezra Miller told me that he's "been in audition situations where sexuality was totally being leveraged."

Fortunately for Blackburn, his recent experiences with colleagues have largely been supportive ones. He came out to Roswell, New Mexico showrunner Carina Adly Mackenzie when he first arrived in N.M. to shoot the pilot but after he had earned the role of Alex, which for him was the ideal sequence. "I think he takes the responsibility of being queer in the public eye very seriously, and waiting to come out was just about waiting until he was ready to share a private matter—not about being dishonest to his fans," Mackenzie tells PLAYBOY. "I have always known how important Alex is to Tyler, and I know that Tyler trusts me to do right by him, ultimately, and that’s really special." Blackburn finds it funny that he’s known for young-skewing TV shows; the question is, What might define him next? He’s grateful for his career, but he grew up wanting to make edgy dramas like the young Leonardo DiCaprio. He also cites an admiration for Miller, the queer actor who plays the Flash. “I most definitely want to be a fucking superhero one day,” Blackburn says a bit wistfully. His path to cape wearing does look more tenable. The day before his Advocate interview was posted, he booked a lead role in a fact-based disaster-survival film opposite Josh Duhamel. Blackburn jokes that his movie career was previously nonexistent, though his résumé features such thoughtful indie fare as 2017’s vignette-driven Hello Again. There, he plays a love interest to T.R. Knight, who tells PLAYBOY that Blackburn “embraces the challenge to stretch and not choose the easy path.” For now, Blackburn’s path appears to be just where he needs it to be. “I may never want to be a spokesperson in a huge way, but honestly, being truthful and authentic sets a great example,” he says. “To continue on a path of fulfillment and happiness is going to make people feel like they too can have that and it doesn’t need to be some spectacle.” As it turns out, he may already be a superhero.

- Playboy

[humble-wayside-flower]

“The surface escapes you upward, leaving you in freezing depths, fathoms below.                                   Watching. Return. Reward. Wonder.  A final squeeze sends the last breath from your lungs in a muffled scream.                                                     Punish.”

                                                                        ~Episode 53

“Settled within a small chamber of tangled leaves and roots, within this mass of vines and green, you swear you can see a face. Female. Motherly. Her eyes closed.

The womb I grant, but withers without faith. His will shall find you again soon. His will shall find you again, but until it does, rest.” 

                                                                        ~Episode 65

Episodes 49 - 76

Spotify (X)- Liner Notes Under Cut Part 1 / Part 2 

_______________________________________________________

Pretender (Acoustic) by AJR (Post Pirate Arc- Feeling adrift and throwing yourself into another situation so you don’t have to think about the previous one. With everything going on in the empire and the lives of his friends, there are far more important things to be focusing on.)

I’m a good pretender Won’t you come see my show? I’ve got lots of problems Well, good thing nobody knows 

Seafaring Song by Mark Lanegan & Isobel Campbell (He feels uneasy being this far from the ocean, as he runs from the promise he made and things he did to chase power that didn’t matter. Looking up into the Xhorhas sky and seeing an unfamiliar, yet familiar vastness reflected back at him.)

I have traveled the world around Wandered far from home Sailed the ocean in foreign skies Still further to roam

False Confidence by Noah Kahan (The City of Beasts- Fjord should feel comfortable here, no one glances at him sideways, he isn’t the only one of his kind, but he still doesn’t feel like enough. Insecurities about his size, his tusks, his humaness, his orcness abound. Feeling like you aren’t enough for either place yet too much for both as well.)

Don’t take yourself so seriously Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see You’re here for a reason but you don’t know why You’re split and uneven, your hands to the sky Surrender yourself 

I Don’t Even Care About You (Stripped) by MISSIO (His first Uk’otoa dream since leaving the coast. It’s a warning and a threat of punishment. Being crushed in your dreams is every bit as unpleasant as it sounds.)

Depressed again Evening comes too fast, still tired of the routine Depressed again I can do without all your false curiosities Angry again No, I don’t wanna have a conversation with you Angry again Let me sit alone with kerosene I do’t even care about you

A New Mission by Josh Whitehouse (Everything about Wursh exasperates Fjord’s insecurities, but he feels seen in a way that, while not pleasant, is necessary. The group also gets another peek at the childhood that made their friend.)

Sometimes I can’t control a feeling that I get inside my chest Even with those who are close to me, the ones I call my best I lose sight of all my confidence, in a heavy single step It’s happened ever since my childhood, things I thought I’d put to rest

The Wolf in Your Darkest Room by Matthew Mayfield (Uk’otoa makes it clear that what can be given can also be taken away. The loss of his powers, however temporarily is terrifying.)

And I just want to taste you on my teeth And clawing at your neck to feed my needs You thought you found my limit But you don’t seem to know You don’t seem to know How far I’d go

The Mask by Matt Maeson (Fjord has spent a lifetime crafting masks, but at what cost, and with such weight. He’s not ready to take them off yet, but he gets one step closer with each day. Fjord’s second talk with Wursh about anger, picking your battles, and not letting others define who you are.)

Tell me what you know I settled my grievance by crafting a mask And I never looked back I will never grow While this anchor is chained to my feet

Waite by Lowland Hum (Xhorhas montage- Adjusting to a new city, a new culture, and having a home of your own for the first real time ever. The paranoia of feeling like you’re being watched. Caleb waiting for him in his room- a conversation with a friend you don’t yet understand, and are not sure you fully trust.)

Hunter, rush, mauve, dust; Colors I didn’t trust  Until I saw them from the train Home with stranger kin Camp in the kitchen Tears and sweet refrain Pining, dining, late reclining Pillow steals my brain Stop through, see you All we’ve been through Are we not the same?

In Memoriam by The Oh Hellos (Sleeping next to the Wildmother’s tree. Uk’otoa strikes again, but she saves him, brings him to her, and offers him a place of refuge to seek and strive for. For the first night in a long time, his sleep is peaceful.)

Well, it’s a long way out to reach the sea But I’m sure I’ll find you waiting there for me And by the time I blink, I’ll see your wild arms swinging Just to meet me in the middle of the road And you’ll hold me like you’ll never let me go And beside the salty water, I could hold you close But you are far too beautiful to love me

Diver (Acoustic) by Kid Astray (The Wildmother’s tree again, but this time his eyes are on Jester only. Also known as: He literally jumps off a tree into a deep dive to save her guys!! That’s some Disney bullshit!!)

So dive in with me, leave without the feeling that you’re on your own Hold fast drifting, know that I won’t go before you’ve had enough ‘Cause I can be anything that you want me to be, anything that you need me to be So dive in with me, dive in with me

 A Lullaby of Home by Jessica Curry (Bazzozan, Oban, and the loss of Yasha. The feeling of betrayal that strikes deep to his core.)

Instrumental

The Difference by Noah Gunderson (Fjord and Nott are parallel stories. The weird understanding and also misunderstanding between those who are in the same place, but had very different journeys to get there, and also don’t want to acknowledge just how much the same they are.)

I hope I don’t miss it Though I know I probably just won’t get it Maybe we were made this way Maybe we weren’t made Maybe we just got here Learning from our mistakes Maybe we don’t know What we’re looking at  The ever pressing question takes a toll

A Little Broken by Storm Greenwood (The Vandran scry conversation. Fjord confides in Jester about all of it, not knowing what he wants, losing his powers, being afraid of losing his friends and himself. She supports him like he never expected anyone to. He leaves feeling more grounded and ready to make a decision. )

And though we’ve been down the hardest road we’ve yet traveled At least we weren’t traveling alone Time ticks by and we’re still a little broken But together we can lighten this load

Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons (The whole damn lava pit thing, that defining choice. The giving up something bad to replace it with something better. Jumping off a cliff and praying you’ll be caught.)

Touched my mouth and hold my tongue I’ll never be your chosen one I’ll be home, safe and tucked away You can’t tempt me if I don’t see the day

Dear Wormwood by The Oh Hellos (The aftermath. When you’ve named the beast you can tame it, or throw it away entirely. In a way it is freedom. Fjord and Caduceus share a private moment of encouragement and support.)

I know who I am now And all that you’ve made of me I know who you are now And I name you my enemy

Kinda Feels Alright by Wild Rivers (Fjord’s friends love him so so so much. Coming clean about who you are even though it is terrifying, and finding that nothing has changed really, not in the ways that matter the most.)

I swear I should be terrified But damn, it kinda feels alright

Ginger by The Front Bottoms (Powerlessness and the Strength of Self. Fjord was never really weak, he just needed faith in himself, his abilities, and in the love of his friends.)

Back before I got struck by lightning Things were so much different than they are now I got a lot more people leaning on me And all I wanna do is make them proud But this is my body, the only thing I own entirely And it’ll carry me to greatness somehow

Better in the Morning by Birdtalker (Fjord and Caduceus commune with the Wildmother and talk about the importance of faith. There is no requirement to have it all figured out immediately. You are safe, you are loved, you are wanted. Just have faith.)

Be gentle with yourself as you uncover Your best kept secrets yet to be discovered In stillness, boys, clear water to the bottom You will do better in the morning

The Dragon from God of War (The Battle at Mythburrow for the material to finish Star Razor. If there was any doubt that his friends turned family would do anything for him, it is dispelled now.)

Instrumental

Atlas: Eight by Sleeping at Last (Rebirth, Reforged, Revival.)

Here I am, pry me open What do you want to know? I’m just a kid who grew up scared enough To hold the door shut And bury my innocence  But here’s a map, here’s a shovel Here’s my Achilles’ heel I’m all in, palms out, I’m at your mercy now And I’m ready to begin 

[immortalpramheda]

The 100 6x12 ‘Adjustment Protocol’

Madi seems to be almost completely possessed by Sheidheda, threatening to burn this world down and kill this child. Because of her fragile mental state, with believing that Clarke really is dead, it’s no wonder that she’s vulnerable to the Dark Commanders control. Clarke has to just suck it up while her daughter is struggling, she can’t give up the act or their plan will be foiled.

Raven has been trying to extract Sheidheda out of her head but it’s not working. Something is blocking her, it’s like the Flame is protecting him. All the while, bone marrow is still being extracted from Madi to honour the deal that saved them from being burnt alive. Two more doses are needed, because Russell is planning to resurrect all of the remaining Prime’s tonight. Taking that much bone marrow will kill Madi. This feels an awful lot like Mount Weather all over again. Taking something from another group of people so they can live. But this is much worse, because they’re not doing this to survive, they’re doing it so they can live forever.

Abby also believes Clarke really is dead. She just lost Kane and now her daughter too. For once she decides to so something self sacrificing. Madi is still here and she has the power to save her. She does what Clarke did, turning herself into a Nightblood to save someone innocent. Now the remaining bone marrow can be taken from her.

When they are alone, Clarke returns to the operation room and embraces her mother in a hug. The pure relief on her face at realising her daughter is still alive, and also has a plan to save them. “Now go save us all. Again.” At least someone acknowledges all that Clarke has done!

Abby begins to make amends for all that she’s done, apologising to Jackson, and to Raven. She tells Raven that helping create a new host for Kane wasn’t worth it, she asked her on the ship but she never answered. But now she’s realised that she lost her way, and the way she hurt Raven wasn’t okay. She may not be her daughter, but she’s her family. It was a beautiful and emotional way to mend their relationship.

The new Primes. The three guards became Miranda (Gavin’s wife), Jasmine (Jade) and Caleb (other guard). And Murphy and Emori, who are pretending to be Kaylee and Daniel. They got blank mind drives put into their head, the ones that Josie erased (the four members of the Lee family). They’re putting on an act for the people of Sanctum, but really they are now immortal.

Abby notices that only five were brought back, but there were six vials of bone marrow. Russell killed her daughter and he knows she’ll never stop wanting revenge. He injects her with the mind wipe serum. Raven and Jackson look out in horror as they realise what is happening.

Her memories flash by - Clarke, Jake, Kane, her happiest memories. It all flashes by… and then nothing. She’s gone. And she can’t come back because they used the EMP to get ALIE out of her head, there is no neural mesh like there was in Clarke’s mind. Her body remains but her mind has been erased.

Clarke meets her new mother. Well, Josephine’s mother in her mothers body. She doesn’t even look like Abby - the clothes, the make up, all of it, she really does seem like Simone. Clarke has no time to mourn, she still has to keep in character while processing the shocking news that her mother is dead. Gabriel gives her a moment to take some anger out on him, he knows she needs to keep playing Josie if their plan is going to work.

Abby has never been my favourite character but her death was a real emotional gut punch. She just lost someone she cares about, and now she’s dead too. But her body still lives and has been taken over by someone else. Her death was hugely impactful, and I’m glad she made some resolutions before she died. May we meet again.

After Gabriel hears that there will be ‘Naming’s’, he decides to take things into his own hands because he won’t let anymore innocent people die. He comes to Sanctum peacefully, dropping the toxin bomb into the pond and turning himself in.

It’s clear that Russel and Gabriel have a lot of history. 236 years to be exact. The alarm sounds, and Russell knows what he’s done. The day he returns the alarm just happens to go off when there is no eclipse. Gabriel manages to grab a gun and aims it at Russell but he can’t pull the trigger. Russell is an old friend, they spent all those years bringing the Primes back, bringing Josephine back. And he’s not willing to kill one person to save the many, even though Russell’s death could help immensely with his cause and cause a lot more bloodshed. It’s just not who he is.

I understand that Russell is just trying to save his family, but he’s so hypocritical. He’s the one who killed them in the first place, and maybe he feels that the only way to make for that is to bring them back time and time again and live forever. He’s had many chances and it’s time for him to just die.

After Clarke threatens to destroy Ryker’s mind drive, Priya agrees to take the shield down and the cavalry marches in. I loved the moment of Octavia playfully shoving Bellamy when he says ‘I told you so’, when really, it was the other way around. He was doubting things earlier and Octavia told him to have some faith, and she was right. Typical siblings behaviour. Things are looking up for the Blakes!

Bellamy tells everyone gathered for the Naming Day the truth, backed up by Priya. These people aren’t gods, they steal their bodies so they can live forever. Russell then orders an ‘Adjustment Protocol’ in which Sanctum will be ‘purified’ as the believers kill the non believers. He throws the bomb into the crowd and everyone begins to hallucinate. Tragically, now that Delilah’s parents know that Priya murdered their daughter, they end up killing her. Their daughters former body.

Murphy and Emori, or Kaylee and Daniel (who by the way are brother and sister…) get a makeover. And it really suits them, minus the whole betrayal so they can immortal thing (but they good in those outfits and make up). In the end, they have a change of heart. They aren’t going with the other Primes, they’re staying here to save their people.

“I’m proud of you Murphy.” And thats when he knows, when they both know, that it’s Clarke, because Josephine called him John. Clarke has believed that Murphy really had betrayed her and didn’t care that she was ‘dead'. But I’m sure he always did care about her, he just doesn’t always do the right thing. But he came around in the end.

The Primes head up to space while they wait for things to calm down in Sanctum. I don’t know if they’ll be a match for Wonkru, they need to wake up their sleeping army up there!

The Primes - Russell, Simone, Miranda, Jasmine and Caleb are currently in host bodies. Plus Gabriel (but he doesn’t really count anymore). Clarke, Murphy and Emori each have a blank drive in their head (three of the Lee family that were erased). Ryker and Priya are currently dormant. Josephine’s drive is blank but still intact. And Kane’s was floated with his new body (which was the fourth blank Lee drive).

I really hope Jordan will be an important part of the finale. Everyone seems to have forgotten about him. So much for keeping Monty’s legacy alive when they failed to take care of his son.

I have a feeling that Sanctum is going to end up being burned to the ground. Raven said last season just once she’d like to take off from a planet that wasn’t on fire but I have a feeling they will once again. Hopefully this will be the last time - third times the charm.

I predict the season will end with Diyoza returning and they all go into the anomaly. There will probably be a cliffhanger, we won’t exactly know what happens or where they go. I’m sure it will leave many, many questions because nothing is very clear about the anomaly yet. But as previous seasons, there are always hints as to what is to come next season and there have been a lot of mystery surrounding the anomaly.

This episode was a great penultimate episode. It was super fast paced and so much happened! I honestly have no idea what to expect, but it’s set it up for what I’m sure will be an amazing finale!!

[yfere]

Fjord and Caduceus and the Dream

AKA, can you not write an overly long meta for once???

Well guys, I’m going to bring some of my word vomit to that post-dream conversation between Fjord and Caduceus. In particular, I’m interested in Fjord’s tendency to default to the the role of the deferential supplicant, and how that pairs with Caduceus’ tendency to default to the role of the parenting sage. They feed off of each other in very strange ways. Not bad necessarily, but strange.

I’ve noticed already in prior episodes that Caduceus has a habit of adopting an infantilizing, even controlling perspective of people at the same time he cares for them--most extremely so with Fjord. Like a kindergarten teacher, he plans on giving Fjord a sword as, in his words, a “reward” for good behavior and not falling into temptation while at sea. He says “I believe in you” as a positive encouragement to keep Fjord on the straight and narrow at Darktow. Caduceus says, at the close of Fjord’s quest and again (three times!) in this conversation, that he’s “proud of” Fjord--a fraught term, because to be “proud of” something indicates a kind of possession over the thing, and often places one in a position of superiority, someone whose pride and belief must necessarily be a kind of gift. A mentor? A parent? Hard to say. But it’s not hard to see how Caduceus’ language routinely sets up a paternalistic status barrier between himself and people like Fjord--albeit a benevolent one, where Caduceus is the source of helpful advice and comfort and encouragement, and Fjord is the guided recipient. What it isn’t though is a reciprocal relationship. It is not a relationship where they are equals on the same ground, emotionally speaking

But what’s most interesting to me is how Caduceus conceives of Fjord’s relationship to Uk’otoa in much similar terms to his own relationship with Fjord--with Uk’otoa as simply a competing influence, aiming to control Fjord. The significant difference is that Caduceus thinks and behaves himself as if he were a good supportive parent with Fjord’s best interests in mind--while Uk’otoa is in Caduceus’ mind a selfish and abusive influencer. What they share in common, however, is using the best tools at their disposal to guide Fjord in--what? Their chess match over his soul? It’s significant to me that Caduceus can’t seem to conceive of Uk’otoa having a power to manipulate that it chooses not to use. He assumes that the threatening dream was the worst it could possibly deliver, saying “I’m sure it would put greater strain and stress against you for not following its wishes if it could. But it didn’t,” and he was genuinely confused when Fjord suggested that Uk’otoa probably could make things worse for him. Also, Caduceus’ first question upon learning of Fjord’s dream was about which kind of control tactic Uk’otoa was going for--”Would you describe this as a kind of positive encouragement, or a negative reinforcement?” he asks, and it’s a pragmatic question rather than one of motiveless curiosity, for Caduceus can’t counteract the bad influence if he doesn’t know what Uk’otoa did. Importantly, when Caduceus learns that Fjord was in fact threatened, he chooses to respond himself with the tactic of positive encouragement, saying “I’m proud of you for maintaining your sense of self through all this,” i.e, for not falling into Uk’otoa’s influence. He follows this with “We’ll help you with that choice [how to handle Uk’otoa], no matter what it ends up being,” which does the work of allowing Caduceus to portray himself safely as benevolent and supportive parent while at the time time, in the context of the conversation, making it manifestly clear that his preferences do lie in Fjord breaking away from Uk’otoa. “I do think you’re on a path. I don’t necessarily think it’s the path of just being a servant to some creature,” he says, driving the point home with some extremely loaded language.

But to become a closer child to Melora? That idea Caduceus doesn’t have quite as much of a problem with, if Fjord’s heart is in the right place--that inescapable, inseparable parent-child bond which, while having two way communication, does not allow for the child to be anything more than an appreciative, admiring recipient of benevolence and guidance. It’s two way, he says, between him and Melora--yet he seems to confuse connection with reciprocity. “Everything we do is a declaration of our love, our admiration, or our denial of it,” he says, of the child-to parent relationship he thinks they all have to Nature. Though I’m sure it would offend Caduceus for someone to say this, in a way this is in fact a less reciprocal relationship he’s describing than the one Fjord shares with his patron. Fjord is under contract--do favors for Uk’otoa, and he will be rewarded in turn. Yet from what Caduceus has said, there is nothing we can give to Nature but thanks love and appreciation--we must always be children, with them, must unavoidably take of Nature’s gifts by the very fact of our existence.

But taking on this kind of a non-reciprocal relationship probably wouldn’t discourage Fjord--heavens knows he’s rarely interested in trying to put himself on equal ground with anyone or anything who tries to claim authority over him. He endorses Caduceus’ preferred role as a benevolent font of wisdom--in this conversation, Fjord asked questions and fished for advice, while for the most part Caduceus gave pronouncements and attempted to educate. Fjord never fights Caduceus saying he’s proud of him or treats it as odd--he’s touched and says “thank you,” every time. He obsesses over the status of his “favor” with Uk’otoa, and doesn’t consider the possibility of becoming a free agent on equal footing so much as he considers the possibility of subsuming himself to another “counteragent” to Uk’otoa. I find it interesting that of everyone in the M9, Fjord in his uncertainty and deference is probably the one, alongside Beau, who slots most neatly into Caduceus’ tendency to act the sage. Caleb is non-responsive to Caduceus’ efforts, Jester tries to flip the script and give Caduceus advice, and Nott finds Caduceus’ efforts on her behalf various levels of offensive. But Fjord? Fjord supports it. Seeks it out, even.