#so now i have to figure it out because i Have Capital H to get this permission

[ceaselessbasher]

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[booksandabeer]

Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.   

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

[gainevere]

So now that you have met and surpassed your intended goal so quickly, have you figured out the next move/goal? Does our Hero go for double? Or does she try to slow it down and give herself time to process? And do you think you can even keep up this hectic fattening pace?

I gained about 30 pounds in a pretty short period of time earlier this year. And I had to slow down because I was staying up to stuff myself and not getting enough sleep, and I was also having to replace nearly my entire wardrobe (and so many cute clothes 😭) and that was super expensive. And also my holds from the library were running out because I was too high all the time to read 🙈

Anyway, I am once again spending 2-3 hours each night stuffing myself while stoned out of my mind. My clothes are getting tight. I got a book that I really want to read before the loan runs out. I'm not at the end of this cycle yet butttt maybe soon?

Plus I want to appreciate each new size! Gaining like this really is a whole capital-H Hobby.

[fruitmins]

Attention | Jimin

➭ summary: You’ve been stalking your ex ever since you two broke up. And he’s aware of this, but you know he won’t stop you cause he’s a little attention whore. Until he starts seeing some else so you have to remind him who he belongs too..

➭genre: smut with a little plot if you squint, ex’s au, drabble

➭warnings: unprotected s*x (don’t do that), kinda rough s*x, a wall, cuss words, relationship is hella toxic, stalking (don’t do that), murderous tendencies, he plays into your delusions, more s*x implied, Jimin is still the dominate somehow??

note: i haven’t posted a oneshot in a while and wanted to work on my smut so let me know if it’s readable or not but I actually kinda like this one ⚠︎ this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. jimin is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.

Your blood is boiling.

Your sat posted up across from the small modern cafe he works, in a black cap and all black outfit. He can’t see you right now but you can see him very clearly.

You can see the way he entertained the female customer by biting his lip and looking her up and down. You can see the way the girl hides her face where he speaks, undoubtedly flirting with her and smirking at her pathetic reaction.

This isn’t what gets your blood boiling.

You wouldn’t even think past it because you know Jimin has always had a flirty personality. You’ve watched him flirt with most female customers before, even woman over the age of forty five. It was just who he was.

What’s annoying you is how this is the second day in a row where the same girl has come in, just to flirt with him. And eventually, the girl just took out her phone for him to put his number in. And he did.

Something in you still had faith in him. A part of you wanted to believe that he’d just ghost the girl and get her off his back. He still belonged to you. You weren’t ready to let him go yet. Therefore he wasn’t on the market.

And he knew this. But still, as a warning you lift up your cap and emerge from the bushes. You walk across the road and walk past the window to the cafe, visible through the big see through windows.

And you know he saw you. You know this cause you’ve watched him glance at the window every five minutes looking for you. Waiting for you. He knows you’ve been stalking him ever since the two of you broke up four months ago. You’ve made yourself known every now and then. Outside his house, outside his job, when he is out with friends. He knows you’re there. He’s caught on to your little game.

So you figured he was just fucking with you like he used to. Trying to make you jealous on purpose. After that he would simply leave the girl alone and in response unblock you instead of texting her.

That was until two days later you watched him get into his car and drive to the cafe. Expect he didn’t work that day, and you saw the same girl walk in a couple minutes after.

They were on a date.

He was on a fucking date.

You tired not to panic at first. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had to be fucking with you. Playing with your emotions to draw you out somehow. That’s what he always did. He treated you like a game.

But then you watch him, his guard slowly melting. His body relaxing as he finally pays attention to what she was talking about. Finally realizing that the girl might have a personality. You watch him stare at the girl as she talked, now so absorbed in the conversation that he wasn’t even glancing at the window anymore.

He wasn’t waiting for you.

He’s so predictable it makes you sick. He sees a pretty slut is giving him all of her attention right in front of him and crack’s immediately. He capitalizes on the effect he has on people and uses to it his own pleasure. Once anyone has every interest in him, he has to suck the life out of them, and then leave them to dry when he gets bored. Like he did with you.

You almost feel bad for the girl. But then you see her do something stupid like touch his thigh when she laughs and you think about burning her alive again.

You need to remind him that you haven't let go of him yet. That you still have your full attention on him. You need to remind him just how good you are to him.

So you watch him. You watch him smile and get lost in the girls eyes. You watch as he forgets about the world around him because of a pretty girl. You know this is happening cause you watched him do it on your couple first dates. So you watch for the entire hour and a half with a sick stomach.

Until they finally leave the cafe, and they finally break apart. The girl walks out of the store, and you think about slitting her throat as she struts down the sidewalk. Obviously feeling good about herself. That she had managed to strike a gold mine like Jimin.

You roll your eyes and wait for Jimin to exit the cafe minutes later after saying hi to his coworkers. You watch as he gets in his car and then you walk to his house as he speeds away in the same direction.

You take your time, thinking about all the fun you’re going to have when you get to his house. You ditch the cap on the way, your hair now flowing freely in the wind. You take off the large black hoodie as the sun shines down. You’re not going to camouflage yourself for this. You need him to see you. To see what he was missing. To remember all the good you to had.

You make it to his house and feel a little relief when he’s car is there. He could have easily went out to get some groceries or a snack after. But he was there. You entire his house easily, always knowing where his spare key was. No matter how many times he changed the hiding place.

You walk into the familiar house, taking a minute to glance around and smell the familiar air. Your heart races and thumps as you think about all the times you spent together.

You practically frolic through his house before finally going upstairs to his bedroom. You can hear the shower running as you walk up the stairs and your heart pumps even more with excitement and anticipation.

You enter his bedroom, glancing around the warm space. So caught up in looking at his baby pictures and sports posters that you don’t realize that the shower stopped running until you hear his voice.

“What are you doing here?” He says as you slowly turn around to face him, a picture of him with a pirate suit on in your hand.

He’s stood there, a couple steps away and in nothing but a wet white shirt that stuck to his body and didn’t hide the visible six pack and black sweats. His hair dripping wet and down his face as the smell of soap fills the room.

“I needed to see you again.” You say without thinking, sounding utterly pathetic but you know it amuses Jimin. You know this will only boost his ego.

“And you thought breaking in was the smart way to go?” He asks raising an eyebrow, his voice is soft yet stern and you can’t help but let out a smile when you hear it.

“I’m sorry I don’t do dates like all the other girls.” You respond back, rolling your eyes as you thought about watching the date he went on earlier.

He lets out a small chuckle, masking his amusement with a look of disbelief as he shakes the towel to dry off his hair. “You need to leave.” he says in a soft low voice.

“Oh I will. But first let me make something clear.” You stay sternly, taking a step towards him, causing his eyes to widen slightly with suspicion. He looks at you for a moment as you closes the distance between you, the smell the familiar scent of his soap and shampoo filling your nostrils.

“Just because you broke up with me, doesn’t mean you get to move on.” You say, your face suddenly darkening before leaning against his ear to lightly whisper. “You’re still mine.”

As you lean in to whisper your words in his ear his body stiffens, as he feels your breath on his ear. You can almost feel the tension building inside him.

“That’s not how this works.” he says, his voice still low but you can tell there’s a little nervousness in it, like he was now unsure of something.

You can practically see the thoughts and memories rushing through his head as he stared down at you. You can see his pathetic little heart beating faster as he drowns in your strong words. “That’s exactly how this works.” You say with a slight chuckle, knowing exactly what to make him crack.

“And I’m going to make sure you remember that every time you even think of going on a date.” You whisper with a smug smile and you can see his eye twitch.

His expression changes ever so slightly, thinking deeply about your words till his muscles tighten and he suddenly moves.

He puts his hand out as if he’s about to push you away, but instead he pulls you close.. “Let me make something clear,” he says with a growl, his eyes locking onto yours. His one hand lightly grips the nape of your neck while his other hand lands on your waist as he lifts you against the wall.

“I will be going out on dates, and I will be getting over you. Because you’re crazy.” he tells you, and if he was a cartoon character you are sure he would have steam coming out of his ears.

You know you’ve damaged him, you’ve pushed him to the limit and forced him to remember and care about you again.

“And that’s exactly your type.” You respond quickly with a smug smirk. You can’t tell if he’s still seriously angry but it’s obvious that he’s turned on by all of this. That he is in love with how crazy you are for him.

“And as much as you don’t want it to be true. You love how crazy I am.” You’re an automatic ego booster that you know he can’t let go easily.

“Fuck you.” He spits in return before slamming his lips meet yours roughly, demandingly as he tries to silence your words and his thoughts that he didn’t want to come to term with. That everything you said was right. And that he is just as crazy as you are.

You smirk in victory but kiss him back immediately, the kiss rough and hungry as it deepens. You can feel him giving in more and more, losing himself in your touch just like he always does.

As the kiss deepens, his hand moves from your waist down to the hem of your shirt, the feeling of his fingers grazing the skin of your stomach that sends you into a spiral.

As he touches your skin, he can feel you trembling and shivering underneath his hands, it feels like he’s holding on to a fragile being but he loves the way you shake in his hands. He loves how unpredictable you are and how you treat him like he’s some type of God.

His mouth sucks on your neck as he tugs your shirt up, slowly revealing more and more of your soft skin that is hot under his fingertips. His fingers dance along your skin, tickling and teasing as he kisses his way up to your lips again.

You lean your head back against the wall, breathing heavily as you wrap my legs around his hips to hold yourself up against the wall.

He continues to kiss you passionately as he pulls away again to look at you, this time leaving a trail of saliva across your face. His eyes are full of lust and hungry. His other hand travels southwards once again, touching your thigh gently.

He then begins kissing along your jawline before finally trailing kisses down your collarbone. "God...you're driving me insane." He whispers huskily against your chest.

“Good.” You whisper back, your hands in his hair as he pushes you more up the wall. He growls at your words, his movements become more desperate, his hands underneath your clothes now as he lifts you higher.

He kisses you deeply, as if silencing you again as his tongue pushing past your lips, gripping onto you tighter. You groan into his mouth, his tongue fighting with yours as you do him the honors of lifting up his shirt.

He moans loudly, loving how much control you have over him."Fuck..." he says breathlessly, breaking off their kiss briefly to help pull off his shirt, exposing his toned body. You can’t help but brush your hands over his abs off letting out a breath before he takes off your own shirt.

You move your hand from his abs down to his v line. You can’t help but quickly move your legs higher so you have complete access to slide down his sweats and he is quick to help you undress him, pulling down his boxers along with them.

His cock quickly reveals itself, slapping against his stomach as it escapes his tight boxers. It looks bigger than usual because of how hard he was, even throbbing with some precum at his tip.

“You’re crazy.” He whispers again, almost disappointed in himself for wanting you so bad as he pressing himself closer to you, bending his head down and kisses your neck.

“I missed you so much.” You respond back, delighted that he was back in your clutches. His hands find their way into the waistband of your pants.

His hands slip under your pants, your body jolting when you feel his fingertips rub against your wetness. “Jimin..” you whisper breathlessly and he can’t help but smirk at your desperation.

“I want to hear so much more..” he says in a low husky voice, placing light soft kisses on your neck as his middle finger presses against your slit.

Your back arches letting out a soft moan as you hold onto his hair tightly. Your body shakes an anticipation until he effortlessly removes my bottoms all together. He stares hungrily at your exposed lower half, admiring every inch of it.

He pushes you against the wall, slowly lining himself up before letting out a groan of relief as his hard cock slides into you. You're so wet and warm around him, it feels amazing. His hands move to your hips, holding them still as he starts thrusting slowly. He feels so perfect inside of you, fitting so perfectly and like he was always meant for you.

"Fuck." Jimin says quietly, kissing your neck. He hips buckle as he slowly starts moving faster, don’t being able to resist wanting more as his grip tightening around your hips.

He pulls out a little and then thrusts back in, feeling you tighten around him. His movements become faster, more erratic as he can't control his need for you. “So perfect..” he groans, his hips slapping roughly against yours earning a loud moan from your every time.

Your mind is hazy from the intense pleasure, pulling on his hair tightly as your body trembles. You loose all of your senses and thoughts, soaking in the feeling of him inside of you.

He moans when he feels you tighten around him, loving the feeling as you reach your climax and spill out all of the butterflies in your stomach.

He slows his pace, but makes sure to keep moving inside of you, watching your face contorting from the high of your orgasm with pride.

“I’m gonna drive you as crazy as you drive me, darling.”

[dani-says-stuff]

Myrtles Plantation

❥ Back to the Control Center

❥ Nate Hardy Masterlist

- note the reader is afraid of dolls in this one - also my love for Amanda spills through... a lot... but I think it adds character, spice, and humor, so I'm leaving it in

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Nate Hardy x fem!medium(?)reader

Summary: Based on this request

« could u do a nate x reader (in a relationship) at the haunted plantation?? like she sees something and amanda lets them know it was evil??? »

Thanks to this anon for reminding me this was in my drafts

Thank you for my first request anon!! so so so sorry it took so long!

I hope this is what you were looking for, I kinda went off the deep end with it lol

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: language, hauntings, evil spirits, creepy stuff, inconsistent capitalization, my disregard for run on sentences and “pRopEr gRammAr”, unedited ramble writings bc i just wanted to finally get it published for y’all, maybe incorrect timeline? technically? bc i can’t remember if Nate was in a video with Amanda before this one…

Dialogue Key:

Y/N

Nate

Sam

Colby

Amanda

Spirit Box

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You and Nate were currently in his car, driving to the plantation for Sam and Colby's video.

Nate was nervous. That much was obvious from the tight, white-knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel. You could practically see the the tense emotions rolling off his skin in waves. You however, were practically buzzing in excitement.

You opened up the camera app on your phone to record a little clip. One you would either post to your instagram story soon, or you'd send it to Colby to put before the video... you hadn't really decided what you were going to say yet.

First, you brought the camera really close to your face, barely anything other than your forehead, eyebrows, and eyes in frame, "Ok so- I don't really know where this clip is going to be shared yet... or if it'll be out at all... but Nate is being boring and having a panic attack and I'm super excited and want to talk to someone about it."

You extended your arm, full face now in view as you smiled widely at the front facing camera, "Guess what!" you yelled, "We're filming with the boys again!" you spoke, flashing the camera to show Nate as he drove, "and that's not even the best part... drumroll please... the love of my freaking life is coming with us!" you squealed.

Nate's eyebrows furrowed, barely sparing a glance in your direction, instead keeping his eyes on the road, "Babe, you already showed me?"

"Oh not you." you scoffed, rolling your eyes, "You're just my boyfriend."

"Mhm..." he hummed, blinking a few times trying to figure what exactly it was he was failing to understand, "Yeah no. I don't get it N/N... pretty sure 'love of my life' and 'boyfriend' are the same thing." 

You tilted your head pondering the thought for a moment, ultimately shaking your head innocently, "Nah, it can't be. There are two very different people that take up those positions." 

"Oh really?"

"Oh yeah." you turned your gaze, meeting the side of his face,"You may be my boyfriend, and I love you so, so, so, very much..."

"But?"

"But.." you grinned turning to face the camera, "The love of my life is the wonderful and beautiful Amanda~" you sang, moving your phone forward once more blowing kisses at the screen.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so excited!" you yelled, shaking the screen for emphasis.

The brown haired male next to you laughed at your actions, "Babe, be careful, you're going to make 'em all dizzy." 

"True" you shrugged, focusing your phone once more, "anyways, you've probably guessed it by now, but we're doing another investigation tonight!"

You flipped the camera, showing nothing but trees surrounding the vehicle, "We're currently in the middle of nowhere- but that's because this location is a little different than usual."

"Yeah, instead of like a house with like- other neighbors around it and stuff" Nate spoke up, "were going to a plantation, in the middle of just like- trees" he shivered awkwardly, hissing in discomfort, "so if we get in trouble or something there's nothing for miles."

You scoffed, pulling the view back on yourself, "Yeah I guess, but that's fine because nothing is going to go wrong!" you exclaimed happily 

"Mhm, and how do you know that?"

You winked at the camera, patting the area over your chest, "I have a good feeling about it."

"Yeah ok then- remind me how you feel when we actually get there."

You laughed loudly at you boyfriend, finally getting a small crack of a smile across his lips. "Anyway, that's all for right now. See-you-all-when-we-get-there-bye-bye" you rushed, quickly ending the video.

As soon as he could tell you stopped recording, Nate spoke up, "now what was that for?" 

"Updating the public" you shrugged, starting a quick conversation with Colby over text.

Hey~ might've just filmed a little intro clip for you

You're welcome of course

And you better use it

I put a lot of effort into it

Oh really?

Obviously

Send it over

I'll check it out

About 2 minutes later after your mini vlog went through, he responded 

Oh yeah, thats going in

You're good if I do a little editing over it?

Ofc

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Later, when viewers clicked on the video, they would be greeted to a huge tone shift between the first 2-3 minutes of the video, versus the of it.

First, your little intro, which basically became a fan cam for Amanda. Bright hearts and anime blush- the whole nine yards.

Broken, of course, every once in a while with a freeze framing on your real partner. The video going gray scale, with rain and violin music playing in the background.

Then, hard cut straight to the footage outside the plantation. ━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Soon, the group of five were all stood before Myrtles plantation, waiting for the tour to begin.

Sam turned to Nate, camera pointed to him, "Are you excited?" 

"Dude- I- just-" your boyfriend sighed dramatically, bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes. You, however, could be seen lurching forward in laughter at his reaction, "It just like everytime you bring me on one of these."

You walked up, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm your breaths, "Yeah, so thats a no." you looked up at him, pouting when he met your gaze, "He's very nervous"

"You look terrified." 

"I can tell by your- genuine face of excitement right now"

Nate forced a sarcastic smile on his face that turned out more of a grimace, "Oh yeah? This face? Right here?"

You struggled to hold back your laughter, "All excitement from him on the way up here"

He turned his head, looking down at you as you were still holding onto his shoulder, "You know, usually you're a bit more cautious about these things."

You shrugged, "But we have Amanda here this time," you gestured to her, "There's finally someone else to help me keep you guys from doing something stupid."

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

The five of you entered the house, deciding to take a quick look around before the tour guide arrived.

Almost immediately upon entering the door, something caught your attention- and no it wasn't the smell the boys were busy commenting on.

Hung on the wall of the foyer, there was a mirror. You couldn't quite put a finger on it, but you could tell there was something strange about it.

For now, you just assumed it was how dated the mirror looked. Nothing from today looked like that. 

Soon, the boys called you over to the steps, wanting to take a peek upstairs. Sam and Colby had already made their way up with Nate following behind them, leaving you and Amanda  still on the first floor. 

"Hey" you tapped the blondes shoulder, "Just to- uh, to make sure... you feel that too, right?" you asked, looking up the stairwell. 

She hummed, "Yeah, thats probably because of what happened on the 17th step." 

You simply nodded enthusiastically despite having not clue what the significance of that specific step was, "Oh yeah of course. Just making sure I wasn't the only one feeling that sense of impending doom" you joked

Amanda laughed breathily at your phrasing, "Yeah, after events like that, they tend to leave a heavier, darker feel behind." 

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

You didn't find out till later that night, it wasn't just a slip down the stairs, but a death on the 17th step.

Thanks a lot for leaving that out Sam. 

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

By the time you made it up the flight of stairs, the group had entered one of the bedrooms. Everyone was inside except for your boyfriend, who stood before the doorframe waiting for you. 

"Hey babe..." he spoke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, grabbing your hand with the other, "so, just like a heads up, there's like... a shit ton of creepy ass dolls in there." 

Your eyes widened looking up at him, "What?"

"Yeah, like the entire mantle?" he gestured with his hands, "Just- completely covered." 

"I don't wanna go in there" you shook your head quickly, eyes still wide as saucers gripping his hand tighter. 

"Just- just don't look to your right when we walk in?"

You squinted you eyes at him, "...why?"

Nate shrugged, "Oh you know, there might be one that is kinda-sorta positioned to look at you when enter." he spoke nonchalantly as he dragged you through the door. 

You glared up at the brunette, "what?"

"By the way, we have to sleep here tonight-" the both of you heard from further in the room, "So someone is getting the room with the creepy doll staring at you."

You knew your friends- so without even thinking you threw your pointer finger up, touching your nose. 

"Woah, woah, woah" you rushed when the other three looked in your direction with shit eating grins, "No I did it- it was Col-"

"Nope, I'm safe" the black haired man cut you off.

You looked up slowly, glare pointed directly at your shocked boyfriend, who hadn't done it in time. "I'm going to kill you."

You looked over his shoulder, seeing the dolls for the first time. You quickly dropped his hand running over past Amanda and out to the next room, "Nope! I just wont be sleeping with you."

Nate quickly followed, arms extended "Wait babe! No please! Don't leave me alone!" Leaving a laughing Sam and Colby behind, filming the entire thing. 

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

"Sam" you spoke up once the tour was over, "next time we do one of these things you've got to tell me more than just 'oh were going to a haunted mansion'" you mocked 

"What's up?" he laughed, "What do you mean?"

"Oh you know" you gestured around, speaking with your arms, "yellow fever death child, owner of the house killed on the steps, poison murders, voodoo queen death, ghost mirrors-" you listed propping your hands on your hips, "I could go on and on." 

"It's haunted Y/N, what did you expect?"

"Not this!" you shrieked.

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Soon, the five of you began the investigation in Chloe's room, each wearing a set of clip on earrings. Thanks to your wonderful, amazing boyfriend, you and Amanda were wearing the hoops. 

In addition to the earrings, Amanda came with some gifts with the four of you. she gave Colby a crystal to help amplify his empathic skills, and evil eye bracelets for both Nate and Sam. 

"These are just because I felt bad getting something for Colby and not you two." she spoke handing over the bracelets.

The raven haired man gasped, bringing his hands up to his chest, "She has a favorite!"

Nate placed his hands up on his waist, popping out his hip, "Well that's ok." he shot back sassily, dangly earrings swishing by his neck.

The blonde girl however, hummed in agreeance with Colby reaching back into her bag, "Yep, but it's not you." setting off scandalized gasps from the two men and hysteric laughter from sam. Amanda approached you with a small bag usually used for jewelry.

You took it smugly, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek, "Thank you m'love"

"of course darling" she played along, "I heard you also have some abilities, so I picked out three things to help" she spoke as you opened the bag, pouring the items in your hand, "Ok, so this one is Labradorite" she pointed to the darker, slightly iridescent one, "It is one of the best crystals for enhancing abilities, it extends your awareness, helps you connect with the spiritual world and can be very grounding and helpful for mediums." she moved to the brighter crystal, "This one is Angelite, the same as Colby's-" 

"oh." the mentioned male scoffed playfully, crossing his arms, "I see how it is... I feel very special now." 

"-and the last one," Amanda pointed to a pitch black stone that was attached to a corded necklace, "is Black Tourmaline, which is really good at protecting and shielding you from bad energy. It can basically cleanse you from any unwanted energy that comes your way." 

"Ok!" sam exclaimed, "Now that we've handed out the gifts and the pity gifts" he raised his wrist up to the camera, making the rest of you laugh, Lets get on to the investigation!"

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

The group decided to move on to the seance room after very little seemed to be happening within Chole's room. 

"I hated this room earlier" Nate shivered next to you, "It just... I don't know, it's just weird."

You nodded as you followed him in, "Yeah? Now imagine feeling heavy when you walk in" 

"Really?" he looked down at you, "What do you mean?"

"It's just like what Amanda said earlier," you shrugged softly, "it's just very heavy in here, it feels tight." 

You let go of Nate's hand, leaving him as he went to look at a painting in the corner, approaching Amanda instead. You stood next to the blonde as she looked up at the mirror that faces the one in the other parlor. 

You shifted you gaze between her and the mirror quickly, "So... whatcha lookin at?"

She gestured you to stand next to her facing the mirror, never once moving her own gaze from the glass, "so look up there," she pointed at a specific area, "and unfocus you eyes- almost like youre trying to look through the mirror" she explained. 

Within a few seconds she could feel you tense beside her, causing the blonde to grin, "you see it?" 

"yeah" you breathed, nodding slowly, "yeah I see it" 

"Yo wait" Nate whipped around, "see what? exactly?" he moved up behind you, placing his head over your shoulder, squinting his eyes to find whatever the two of you seemed to see, "I dont see it"

"I keep seeing things move behind me" Amanda spoke

"I cant see anything specific" you added, "but I can see shapes moving" you explained gesturing up to point in the direction of the areas you spoke of, "like I saw something move like this" you dragged you hand, "and something over there" 

Amanda hummed in affirmation, "yep, where you just pointed, between this wall in the candles, there's someone" she moved her other hand, "and over here, where you saw something move, there was some kids." 

"thats crazy"

"are you feeling anything right now?" Nate questioned, as Colby moved to flip off the lights.

The both of you answered simultaneously, gaving very opposite answers,

"No."

"Yes." 

and for the first time in what felt like hours, you and Amanda broke your gazes from the mirror turning to each other instead.

"You really dont feel that?"

she shook her head, "no, I'm seeing them. I feel that someone is here, like I have full goosebumps"

"N/N" Nate placed a hand on your shoulder, "what are you feeling?"

You looked back to the mirror, looking for anymore blurs, only to see nothing, "It felt like- happy? I guess? Like you know that feeling of when you'd go to the park when you were younger and you were just like- excited? it felt like that."

Amanda nodded slowly in thought, "well, that could be the kids I saw, they did look pretty happy."

"but now" you spoke up once more, causing the boy's eyebrows to furrow, "now it just feels crowded. I cant pull one emotion from another. Its so weird." 

"the energy in here is insane" Amanda agreed, "I feel like if we did a seance at the seance table- we could get some pretty gnarly stuff"

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

So, that what the group did. you broke out the spirit box, and immediately you were greeted with several hellos. 

"Is there any sign you could give us of who were talking to?" Sam spoke up, "a name, an occupation?"

Kate

Colby looked up with squinted brows, confused at the sound "what did that say"

"it said Kate" you responded from next to Nate, hand on his arm, "im pretty sure it said Kate"

"yeah" Amanda added, "I wrote Kate right before it said that"

"is it true that this room is a portal?"

you stepped back at the question, making Nate look to you in concern "guys I just got really nautious-" 

Evil

"oh no-no-no- I don't like that" you rush out, placing yourself on the other side of the doorframe, "i'm definitely not a fan of that"

Sam, Colby, Nate and Amanda continued to speak to the spirit box within the room while you stayed in the hallway. Nate moved from the group and closer to you to make sure you were ok.

"Can you tell us how many spirits are in here with us right now?"

three 

from the doorway, you couldve sworn you saw a flash of green reflect in one of the glass window panes. Green, like the head wrap Chloe was said to wear. 

"do you think.." you trailed off moving closer to your boyfriend, "could Chloe be one of them?" you whispered. 

he stepped out of the room upon seeing your expression. You seemed paler than usually and he could almost see you shaking with wide glassy eyes staring back at him. He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back to give you some semblance of comfort. 

Nate, his chin resting in your head, repeated your words louder to for the group still inside the room to hear, "Was that Chloe?"

Me

Look 

you whimpered, pressing your face into his chest, "nope. tell Amanda to look at the window-"

"-that candle just got so bright at the far end-"

"-yeah that one." you mumbled, "the window by the candles. I saw something green over there."

the brown hared man nodded, raising his voice to cut off the trio 's conversation on the candle's, "Amanda? N/N said to check around that window. She said she saw something green flash overthere earlier." 

"Yo! What?" sam exclaimed excitedly, moving to you both with the camera while Amanda looked by the window pane, "What happened? what did you-"

 he was cut off by Nate shaking his head quickly above you, "not right now" he whispered to the blonde, "later." 

Sam nodded understandly, moving to film Amanda by the window, "You see anything?"

"no, not anymore." she stated, "its all clear, whatever it was must've moved by now."

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

A few rooms and a short reenactment later, it was time for solo investigations. Well, at least it was solo for Sam and Colby, you, Nate, and Amanda were able to go out on the porch together.

The three of you were given the spot where Chloe's picture was taken, and had decided to take turns doing the Estes Method. Amanda was first up in the rocking chair. 

"I've got some information"

"woah" Nate turned to the camera to you, who was laughing softly from shock.

"We didnt even ask anything yet," you looked into the camera lens, "and were already getting answers? this is crazy"  

Nate hummed, "Yeah this is insane- what type of information do you have?"

"lets go"

"Go where?" you questioned, "where do you want to go?"

after a few minutes you received no response. you shrugged, looking over to Nate, "I don't know, you ask a question" you laughed, "it doesn't like me I guess"

He shrugged at your statement, readying his next question "Chloe, did you put yourself at risk to get the information?"

"ready"

you squinted at one another, "are you ready to put yourself at risk?"

"for the information?" Nate added on. 

"yes" 

you shook your head with a smile, " I guess she's ready ti talk"

"yes"

"Chloe was it you that they photographed in this alleyway?"

"Accident"

"You didnt intend to be in the photo?" 

You turned around, looking off the balcony as Amanda shivered, brushing her arms, "something just touched me" 

Nate turned his head, looking your direction as you gazed out onto the dark field, "Babe?" he whispered, "You alright?" 

"yeah" you muttered, scanning the yard, "yeah, I just got that feeling that something was watching me." you shook your head and rolled your shoulders, "it was probably nothing."

Nate nodded slowly, continuing his questioning of Amanda rather than you, glancing at your from the corner of his eye to make sure you were alright. "Chloe, does guilt keep you here?"

"I knew it was wrong"

You and Nate brought Amanda out of the trance to add a trigger object, things for more intense from there. The answers seemed more and more on the nose, and the small inkling you had of being watched quickly increased tenfold.

You soon felt like you spent less time engaged in the investigation, and more time peering over your shoulder.

"it was the family name"

"Woodruff? Did you hear Woodruff?" Nate rushed, "are you trying to tell us about the Woodruff family?"

"It went silent" Amanda exclaimed, "like full complete silence for a full 'Mississippi' and then it started again"

"it was in the house"

"Are you tired" 

"I hope you don't mind" Nate mentioned, gesturing too the plant, "We have oleander in Amanda's hand-"

"I know"

"-was the death an accident or was it an act of revenge?"

"Nate" you whisper, looking out into the yard, "I...I don't think this is a good idea anymore."

his eyebrows furrowed, peering at you while keeping the camera on Amanda, "Why? What's up"

 you sighed, "I just- I think we should stop. something doesn't feel right." you tore your gaze from the dark, looking up to him, "something's wrong-"

"its time to wrap up-"

The blonde spoke removing the blindfold and headphones, "I swear, it said, 'its time to wrap up'"

"See!" you gasped hitting the man's arm, "told you!"

Amanda looked between the two of you, both of your eyes were wide and your posture screamed that you were both worried, "what's going on?" 

Nate set the camera down on the bannister, still filming, as he went to get all the equipment together, "N/N was just talking about how something feels wrong and we should quit." he looked up at the blonde, "she's been feeling weird this whole time"

The two continue talking while you walk further up the porch. The feeling of being watched became stronger and stronger as you surveyed the yard, eventually catching a glimpse of something off to the side. You leaned over the wood and squinted, trying your best to get a better look. 

Soon, you saw it. 

"Guys" you muttered, trying again louder when they didn't respond "Guys!" 

Nate looked up seeing how far down the porch you'd wandered, "N/N? what's going on?" 

you looked at them eyes wide, "There's someone out here." you panicked, "please, please tell me you're almost done because there's someone in the yard and they're getting closer."

Nate straighted his back, looking into the grass too. he didnt see anything at the moment, but you were so far down and it was dar enough that it could simply be that he was too far. He waved his arm gesturing you over to them, "N/N I need you to come down here right now" 

For all he knew, that was some psyco trying to add a new spirit to the home. That spirit, would not be you if he had anything to say about it. 

"oh my god" you yelled, running up beside the two, "its getting closer."

The brown haired man moved to shield the two of you, shoving the equipment you three brought out to you an Amanda, only keeping a flashlight, "Go inside."

"but-"

"Y/N go inside."

"Wait" Amanda spoke up, peeking around the man's shoulder, "to the left?"

you were shaking at this point, "yeah, It followed me down from that side"

The blonde moved forward, pulling the flashlight from Nate's grip, illuminating the patch to see nothing there, "There?" 

you tilted your head in confusion, "well... yeah? it was-"

Amanda turned off the flashlight and the both of you were greeted with the dark figure once more, this time it was only about 10 feet from the railing. 

"oh my god" you breathed, heart hammering in your chest.

The urgency in your boyfriend began to dissipate, believing that while a spirit following his girlfriend wasnt the best- it was better than her being followed by an actual crazy person.

However the seriousness of the blonde nearly doubled once she caught sight of the glowing red eyes. "You are not allowed to be here." she spoke stern, making you stiffen even further, "you do not have permission to follow us or come any closer."

"Amanda, what is happening?" you spoke, eyes trained on the humanoid figure before you. 

"move back to the door" the blonde spoke softly to you and nate, before strengthening her voice once more, "You do not have the right to follow us into the home, you must stay out here." 

Once the door closed, the blonde watched the figure through the window until it dissolved into the air. 

"you see that stuff all the time?" you stuttered, clinging to Nates arms that wrapped around your waist, "like thats what a ghost is? I've never actually seen something like that before" 

"no." the blonde spoke turning to face you, "that... Y/N, that wasnt a spirit. that was a demon."

[eccentricgrace]

Once Bitten, Twice Shy || IronDad

summary: in the midst of a very high fever, peter accidentally calls tony instead of may.

tags: fluff, sickfic, fevers, humor, hurt/comfort, tony acting as peter parker's parental figure

wc: 3,749

cross-posted on wattpad under the same name!

He hasn't felt like this since he was thirteen going on fourteen, and his muscles ached and he had cold-shakes and he just kept thinking, shit, May just got her new job, she doesn't have health insurance yet— and, oh, he'd been nursing an infected spider bite. Radioactive, specifically.

Giving May a big ol' smile and convincing her that he felt fine, she could definitely work, he'll be okay— and then going unconscious for twelve hours at a time, kind of thinking he was going to die.

Obviously, he didn't die. Actually it felt like he did kind of the opposite, 'cuz then suddenly he had like, abs, and no asthma, and he could sit on the couch and actually see every pixel of May's cheesy medical dramas without having his (broken, taped) glasses.

And also he could do things like avoid bullets. Or not avoid bullets, bleeding all over Flushing Avenue, and still live to tell the tale. This is how, two-ish years later and at the ripe age of sixteen, he knew he'd live through whatever nasty virus this was, too.

Viruses be damned, though, he'd rather take a bullet.

He felt like shit. Capital S-H-I-T. The Bo Burnham song reincarnated into his sweating, fleshy form. His eyes burned, everything ached, and he was pretty much resigned to lying completely still on his lumpy twin-sized mattress and taking shaky, measured breaths until he fell asleep.

He's pretty sure the fever's gotten worse since May left this morning, and he was only able to convince her to leave to begin with because it had been low. A measly 100. Not great, but not the worst either.

May had given strict instructions before she did finally backtrack out the door: keep down as many fluids as he could, and to check his fever every two hours. Call her if he needed anything. And Peter said, "Okay."

Now, he's been so-so with the first instruction. He had a pitcher— literally, a pitcher. The kind that store a gallon vat of iced tea or lemonade, or god forbid iced tea-lemonade in the summer— and he filled it to the brim with water and had just been sipping at it.

This seemed insane, and kind of was, but he didn't want to keep getting up to fill a puny 12oz water glass when his legs felt like they were about to fall off, and his bed was so warm, and the outside world was so cold, and the pitcher worked, damn it.

But he'd finished that an indeterminate amount of time ago, somewhere after 'the-neighbors-are-still-watching-Curb-Your-Enthusiasm' timebut before 'my-eyes-feel-like-they're-not-real' time. Either way, his neighbors have moved on to watching Scrubs, so clearly it's been a while.

As for the second one, the thermometer is on his bedside table, and he thinks he checked his temp a few times, maybe, but he keeps forgetting the results. And he keeps forgetting if he actually checked his temp or if he just thought really hard about checking his temp and his brain decided to keep those thoughts as the word of God. (Also, he really likes the word 'temp.')

He should probably check his fever again. He doesn't really know what time it is— he's been using Scrubs episodes as a clock, and he's may be hallucinating but he's pretty sure he's slept through at least half a season. Or there were a lot more Christmas plotlines than he remembered.

Unfortunately, all the evidence points to the fact that Peter must resort to step three. Call May. So makes a half-hearted series of motions, all shivering violently as the blanket lifts up to expose his skin to the air, and grabs his phone off the charger.

His hand is fumbling blearily through his phone through his contacts, the starred ones, because he can't focus at all and he's pretty sure May is at the top of the list— makes it all easier for him in emergencies.

The phone is ringing and his ears are ringing and his head is ringing and J.D. is monologuing to Dr. Cox about a Super Bowl party he wasn't invited to, and then the line clicks.

"May," Peter greets with as much cheer as he can muster. He can't tell if he's speaking very loudly or very quietly but his throat rasps and it hurts and he wants to go back to sleep. "Hi, May."

"Peter? You sound like you just got hit by a bus," a voice answers, and it sounds muffled, like it's talking through water. But Peter's chest eases at the sound, like he's hearing home, so he smiles and his dry lips crack open a little bit. "Kid? Please tell me you didn't get hit by a bus."

"Haha," Peter says, and yeah, he literally says the word 'haha.' He doesn't have the energy to actually laugh. "I wish!"

He's been hit by a bus before. He's been punched through a bus before. Way more of an enjoyable experience.

"You've what?" The voice slices, a sharpness cutting through on deaf ears. "What the hell? Peter, where are you? Isn't it a Tuesday?"

"Home sick," Peter mumbles, his eyes slipping shut as the sunlight moves just enough to stream in through his blinds.

"You're—" a pause. "You're homesick? For what, kiddo? I— alright, back up a moment. Are you safe?"

Peter groans, shutting his eyes tighter as sunlight continues to infect his little cave. The light stings at his head. "Owww. May, 'm so sorry."

"Hey, talk to me," the voice says, so strong, so parental that Peter can't help but feel equal parts soothed and scolded. "Why're you sorry? Are you hurt? FRI, bring up schematics, vitals—"

"Today was such a big day," Peter says, his tongue feeling numb as he stumbles along each word, going slower than molasses at the speed of which his mind supplies them. "You had to do the thing and then the other... and I told you I'd be okay, but 'm not feeling okay anymore. I need you. 'M sorry."

"Okay," the phone says. "Peter, it's okay. I'm on my way, alright? Are you bleeding?"

"Mm," Peter mumbles a faint disagreement, feeling absolutely miserable. "Jus' tired. I drank all the water already and I can't get up. An' I think they're watching it out of order."

"Who's watching what out of order?"

And Peter can't find the proper words to explain that it's the apartment across from them, who's definitely watching Scrubs out of order, because now J.D. is being locked on the roof of Memorial Hospital, and that's definitely a season one episode.

"Right," Phone says, befuddled. "You're sick, aren't you? Caught the spider-flu?"

Peter groans again. Loudly, to emphasize the misery.

"Okay. I can handle sick. Listen, thank you for calling me, I know that's often difficult for you," Phone seems to laugh, like he's poking fun of Peter about something.

Peter's not amused, as much as he really, really would like to be. Phone seems like a funny guy. Phone seems like he tells really funny jokes, and Peter would love to be laughing at them right now.

"It is," Peter sulks instead, because it's true, andit's not funny, and he wants his aunt.He sniffles. "It is really hard. I don't wanna 'nother spider powers. Ugh, my head hurts so bad..."

"Aw, Pete," Phone chuckles, and sighs. "I know, buddy. Alright, hang in there. I'm gonna send a call to your aunt, quick. Stay there, capiche?"

This is a silly request, because Peter can't go anywhere even if he wanted to— which he resolutely does not. His limbs are so stiff, and heavy, and he's so tired that even twitching a finger is a Herculean effort.

His phone drops lamely from his hand as he waits for something, but he forgot exactly what he was waiting for. He thinks May. May is supposed to come back, right? And take care of him?

He ick-shivers and cold-shivers and listens to the distant muddy voice of Zach Braff and someone singing about Superman to a banjo, and then everything goes blissfully fuzzy.

For the next whenever, he can't genuinely tell what is a dream and what isn't.

A hand soothes over his forehead, and when he flutters his eyes open it's all blurry— someone tells him to go back to sleep. It sounds like Ben. Peter didn't realize he got home from work so early.

"Oh, kid..."

Peter listens to Ben, and dreams again.

The hand returns, this time to take his blankets. A cold shiver racks through his entire body, every notch of his spine. He can feel the sweat gathered at his neck, the crooks of his elbows. He grunts his disproval and grips his fingers onto the fabric, pulling it back towards him.

"I know, but we have to bring your temperature down. Let go of the blanket, Spidey."

"That's a secret," Peter croaks. "'M not Spider-Man. I'm Peter Parker."

"Yeah, well, I'm Iron Man. So you have to listen to me. Let go of the blanket, Peter Parker." Someone tugs again at the duvet.

Peter peaks an eye open again, to verify the identity of his assailant. He blinks a few times, feeling dizzy even with his head pressed back firmly against his pillows.

Iron Man was not in his bedroom.

Tony Stark, however, was.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter furrows his eyebrows, shifting around on the bed. He wants to sit up, even if the thought alone makes him sort of crosseyed. His muscles don't budge more than a few inches before aching again. "Is'ere a mission?"

Tony quickly leans forward, gently guiding Peter back down. "Easy, killer. No mission."

Peter's brain short-circuits momentarily, and then starts the slow process of reboot. He blinks. Then sniffles.

Tony looks amused, his head tilted in a funny way. His mouth quirks up on one side, dimpling at his cheek. He clears his throat, and gestures to the blanket again. "You willing to work with me here?"

Peter starts, and looks back down at the blanket forlornly. "But..."

"I'll trade you. Why don't you go take a shower, and I'm going to change these sheets for you, something I have done maybe once in my life," Tony rattles off. "See? We're good for eachother. Can you stand?"

Peter sluggishly twitches his hand under the blankets. He thinks of all the ways he could say no. (Negatory. No-siree. Nopers. Thumbs-down. Absolutely not. Not gonna happen.)

He squints, and slowly gives Tony an affirmative nod.

Tony's eyes focus very intensely. Peter kind of feels like he's about to explode from the sheer power of his gaze, or like, be blown to bits with lasers.

Peter slowly shakes his head.

"Maybe a bath, then." Tony finalizes. He pulls the blankets off, ignoring Peter's whines, and helps him up. Used tissues fall to the floor, and Tony's nose curls up. "Alright, kiddo. Let's get you to the bathroom."

He lets himself be led into the bathroom, wincing as the lights are flicked on. Tony starts running the bath's faucet, one arm still outstretched like he's ready to catch Peter if he falters. It's kind of humiliating, but as it stands— Peter can hardly stand, and they both know it.

His cheeks burn red.

"I'm not a baby," Peter points out, just so they both remain aware of this fact. He's shivering so hard that his teeth clack against each other.

"I know. That's why I'm not staying in here," Tony says offhandedly. He runs his hand under the water and shakes it off once he's seemingly satisfied with its temperature. "Don't prove me wrong by drowning, will you?"

"I'm cold," Peter complains, trying not to shift from one foot to another. Every movement makes him lightheaded, which really wouldn't prove... whatever point he was starting out with.

"I know, buddy." Tony pulls back from the bath. "You able to get in there on your own? The water's not cold. Rapid cooling is a no-no these days, I got the rundown from FRIDAY on the drive here."

"I'll say thank you to her later," Peter shuffles over to the bathtub and sits down at the edge. He takes a moment to breathe and then nods. "I'll be okay, I think."

"Alright. Yell if you need anything. I'll be just across the hall," Tony says, backing up. "Do you want me to leave the door closed, or open a crack?"

"Does your old ears need it open a crack to hear me if I yell?" Peter asks unthinkingly. A moment of silence passes. Then his mouth opens, and he stares blankly, like a fish. "...Uh..."

Tony's scrubbing at his face, and his eyes are covered but it almost looks like there's a smile pulling at his lips. "I'm going to close the door. You little shit. Don't drown."

Peter smiles weakly and gives a thumbs up. Tony retreats, the door shutting softly behind him, so Peter starts peeling off his sweat-soaked pyjamas. He grimaces, and tosses them to the floor with as much effort as he can (they land about a foot away from him).

The water is not warm. Peter's still shivering when he slides into the tub. It's not as cold as the air, though, so he soaks into it and relishes as the water starts to soothe the ache in his joints. It's nice not to stink like a middle school locker room, too.

He can hear Tony outside the bathroom, rummaging around through a closet, shedding the sheets off his bed, all rustling sounds of fabric— and then the beeping of the washing machine being turned on. His footsteps creak back and forth on the old wooden floors of the Parker apartment.

The realization of his circumstances suddenly seems very, very funny. He accidentally called Iron Man instead of his aunt, and now Iron Man is doing his laundry. Iron Man is probably cleaning up his disgusting snot-tissues. This really is the timeline he's living in.

Anyway, the longer he's in the water, the better he feels. His thoughts are coming back to him a little clearer now, for better or worse, so he scrubs himself head to toe with soap and then lets the bathtub drain.

Tony, apparently, had grabbed a pair of fresh clothes for him before they'd even left his room, which Peter now clocks on the bathroom counter. He tries not to cringe as he pulls on a very old, very faded Stark Expo shirt that Ben bought when he was eight. (Peter begged for an extra extra large adult size, so he would never grow out of it, because "it's limited edition, Ben!")

To add insult to injury, it seemed Tony also picked out the cursed Hello Kitty pajama pants. At least they were warm, but Peter knows that wasn't why they were picked.

He drudges out of the bathroom and pushes open his door. The window's been cracked open, the whole room being filtered with New York's closest approximation to fresh air. Peter's sheets were in-fact changed, and all of the popsicle sticks, tissues, and miscellaneous pill bottles have all been cleared out.

Tony's crouched over, filling a laundry basket with the sporadic mess of clothes strewn across the floor. His head turns up at the door. "There he is. You feeling better?"

Peter answers by crawling into his bed and sighing with all the breath his lungs could hold.

Tony makes an amused noise and sets the laundry basket down. He takes the thermometer from Peter's newly cleared bedside table, and Peter shuts his eyes as the cold plastic smooths over his forehead gently, down the side of his face, stopping at the back of his ear.

It beeps twice in quick succession, which could be worse. Last time Peter remembered it beeping a lot more, and the light was red, which is notoriously not a good colour for a light to be.

"Well, your fever didn't break, but it is significantly lower," Tony clicks his tongue. "Congrats. You're no longer cooking your brain."

"Yippee," Peter says dryly.

"I'm making you tea," Tony decides, putting the thermometer down. "Are you hungry? You want soup? You a chicken noodle guy?"

Peter blinks open an eye, feeling a youthful hope spark up in his chest. "...I think we have cans of minestrone in the pantry?" He says quietly.

"Minestrone? Sure. I'll look for minestrone." Tony clears his throat. "I filled you an actual water bottle. It has ice in it. Drink that, I'll be back."

"Please don't burn down May's kitchen," Peter calls after him, sinking into his pillows. "It's seen enough!"

"We'll see about that!" Tony calls back.

Peter decides to sip at the water for no other reason than he knows he should, and checks his phone while Tony is suspiciously rummaging through cabinets.

Ned has been messaging him all day, talking about things he's missing: a broad spectrum ranging from Spanish quizzes to that squirrel who apparently found its way in the cafeteria again. Peter sends him back a text that (to reiterate) Iron Man is making him soup, because if anybody could understand how bizarre this was, it would be his best friend who had personally seen him in his fanboy phase.

May has been sending him texts, too. Ones that he apparently had already replied to, although he doesn't even remember getting them. He decides not to let her know about that particular detail and goes right on to updating her.

tony came over he's making me soup against my will

LOL. I know, baby. Tony called me.

How are you feeling? You sure you don't need to me come home?

feeling better now

i'm okay, promise

they need you over there! you're too special and important and amazing to leave

😋Alright, that's enough out of you

Drink lots of water. I'll be home soon ❤️‍🩹

i will, larb you!

Larb you too ❤️

He looks at his phone blankly for a measly few seconds before he once again realizes how exhausted his eyelids are from staying open. He sighs and falls backwards onto the pillows, and lets himself drift.

It seems like it's only a few seconds before he's gently shaken awake again, just a hand sweeping over his knees. He makes a grumbly noise and peeks an eye open, and Tony is there again, a mug—(a mug?)—of soup in his hand, and a bottle of pills in the other.

"Take these," Tony says, handing him the bottle. "Take three. Drink your soup so you've got something in your stomach to help digest it." 

"How do you know this stuff?" Peter mumbles, but does so anyways. He pops the pills in his mouth and swallows them down with some water. "Thought only parents knew that."

Like May, his mind suggests.

"May told me," Tony confirms his thoughts as if he had spoken them out loud. Peter nods in understanding. 

He sips at the minestrone, wincing as the liquid passes over his scratchy throat. It's bland from how congested he is, and the steam makes his nose start to run again, but the warmth feels good in his stomach. 

"Why're you here?" He rasps out finally, because his brain is finally catching up now and while Tony being here certainly wasn't unwelcome, he also cannot remember when or how or why he got here. There's definitely some pieces of the story he totally missed due to being only quarter of a functional human.

Tony raises an eyebrow, sitting down on Peter's bed. He kicks his feet up so they're resting on his spinny desk chair. "Why? You waiting to kick me out already?"

"No," Peter rolls his eyes, smiling. "Although you may wanna get out of here while you can. You might catch whatever super-flu knocked me out, and then where would we be? No Spider-Man and no Iron Man? That's like, half the Avengers right there."

"Very funny, kid," Tony says, trying valiantly and in vain to bite back a grin. "You'll be back on your feet in no time. Until then, I don't mind staying around to make sure you don't brain yourself on the windowsill or something."

"I wouldn't do that. The bathtub, maybe. But the windowsill, doubtful."

"Great, well, at least you know your limits." Tony clears his throat. "You should take a nap. Let those meds kick in."

"I've been sleeping all day," Peter complains— and he's not entirely sure why he does it, because yes, he has been sleeping all day, but he really wouldn't mind sleeping for another week. Maybe two weeks. He's really, dreadfully tired, and if a literal coma is what is gonna get him up and swinging around the city again, then it is what it is. 

But Tony is right here, and something about that makes him want to stay awake a little longer. Maybe it's because this situation as a whole is so bizarre and rare that he kind of wants to fiddle with the buttons, mess with some switches, see how far he can take it before Tony calls him out on it. 

"Alright, well you're certainly not gonna be running laps, so," Tony lifts his arms in a 'what'll-you-do' motion, a half-assed cocky shrug that he's really perfected over the years. "You can stay up long enough to drink more water, but then I'm knocking your ass out."

"You'll stay with me?" Peter blurts. Then he feels an immediate wave of regret and embarrassment, and makes the rapid fire decision to just power through. He puts on his best smile, tries not to think of how he probably looks miserable anyways. "We can watch stuff together on my laptop, it'll be fun. I'm just about to start the second season of Scrubs."

Tony scratches at his chin for a moment, and then sighs. "Yeah, alright. Punch it, Chewie."

So Peter drinks the rest of his soup and lets the fever reducers finally settle in his system. His eyes grow heavy with every line the Janitor says— and he's not entirely sure, but before he drifts off, he thinks he feels Tony run a hand through his hair, smoothing down his unruly curls, tucking them behind his ear.

"Thanks for calling me, kid," he thinks he hears Tony murmur.

Peter responds back with two spots of drool on his shoulder. Thank you for answering and I love you.

He thinks Tony will understand what it means.

[wordy-little-witch]

Is it bad to want to see more of Ghost Roger shenanigans? Because now that the man knows he can talk to the living world... The conversations, Perona is getting so many stories about Buggy and Shanks as children. Poor Buggy

OUGH yes absolutely give me an excuse to write about this bc it's so silly and it's arguably one of my most favorite things ever aaaaaa

Roger is just SO excited, and while he does have HUGE Girl Dad energy, he's hitting all the Dad Points. He's a Capital D Dad. The D in Gol D Roger stands for DAD and I cannot articulate this enough. It's hilarious. He's an idiot. He made so many mistakes but he always always ALWAYS did his best to do right by his kids and he loved them with every cell in his body. He was the type of parent who would have a wallet solely for the opportunity to flip it open dramatically and unroll a mile long strip of baby photos.

Even being dead won't stop him from gushing about his sons and embarrassing them.

Perona ultimately becomes his main focus because Fresh Meat, and she's just gobbling this up. They're mutually trying desperately to figure out how to get ghost pictures into the physical world. She has all the tea.

Up to and including walking up to Buggy one day during a cross guild meeting, no regard whatsoever for the "uncute and stuffy vibe" to instead redirect focus onto the Important Stuff.

"Hey Buggy, did you really once dress in drag ad a child to get free food at Fishman island"

Crocodile chokes on his cigar. Mihawk damn near does a spit take. Buggy just sighs.

"Yeah."

"Are there pictures"

"Somewhere probably"

"Can I h-"

"No"

"Booo you're mean! Grandpa Roger said I could"

Buggy then manages to somehow snort and gasp, coughing harshly as his whiskey drips from his nose. "GRANDPA WHO?!?!?!"

Meanwhile Roger is floating in the upper corner in full gremlin pose as he cackle like the menace he is. ((And no he does not flinch when Buggy side eyes him aggressively while cleaning his face.... he just..... decided suddenly and with no particular reason to avoid his clown child's room for the next three to five business weeks. Pranks can be played elsewhere. No, he isn't scared of his most unhinged child.... of course not............ ((the old scar from a tiny mouth clamping on his ankle aches a little, but he's very good at ignoring things))))

All of this is, ofc, not even touching on the hijinks the kids got up to together. Perona has SO much blackmail!!!

[dairy-farmer]

Sneaking back iiiin~☆ After a period of being away o/

D-Lister Otome Powers POG? I think SO! CONSIDER:

Tim, out on patrol, things have been... tense. He's gotten Bruce back from the timeline, but it hasn't FIXED anything. Things were said. He spiraled. Trust was betrayed. He doesn't... he doesn't feel like he HAS a home anymore.

Dick feels betrayed and worried TOO. He needed Tim's support. Instead he broke down, went rouge, and nearly DIED. Didn't explain ANYTHING. Now he's drifting away from the family.

Bruce is barely recovered. His family is in pieces around him and he's pretty sure it's his fault.

So... Patrol is... Professional. Tense. Like it has been for days.

Red Robin is checking out some minor disturbance. Discovers clues that it's some INCREDIBLY naive or foolish out-of-towner who thinks they can "make a name for themselves" in America's crime capital. Idiot is going to get himself killed.

But why target a minor gaming company?

No matter, RR can handle it. He's tired, patrols nearly over. Should be quick.

The days after weeks of hurt and hypertense emotions have left him exhausted. Making mistakes he would normally NEVER make. Like going after an unknown alone. No matter how small they SEEM.

You could always be wrong.

And that KILLS.

Batman trained him better then that. Bruce, catches his plan, too late. Is blocks away. Can hear, through Tim's comms, the most terrifying sort of confidence in that opponents voice. Not fool hardy overconfidence. Not arrogance. But "I have a nasty trick that I KNOW you can't counter". Tim. Tim, get out of there! TIM!

Red Robin does not respond.

And Tim? Wakes up with a splitting headache. Too... honestly? What looks A LOT frilly, hyper feminine version of one of Drake Manor's guest rooms. But with "personal touches" added to make it LOOK like someone supposedly lives here. Too generic though. And too artfully placed. It looks like a movie set.

Where the fuck is h-*DING!*

Then a blue screen like some of the holographic screens he's seen before, pops up. "Welcome to ☆~Knights In Gotham~☆! Complete the game or be trapped forever~♡!" It reads in cutesy font.

Well that ONE way to get him out of bed. But unfortunately, it takes less then 15 minutes to confirm that he is, indeed, not in his native reality. MIGHT be drugged or hypnotized. He'll have to test. But the whole new reproductive set, suggest otherwise.

So he pokes around. Speed runs his emotional "I'm trapped, might never see my family again. No. No! I WILL escape!" Character arc/mental breakdown in the shower. Finds some pants.

Figures out what sort of game this is. It's an Otome game. Dating. Based on? His FAMILY. Fffffuck his life.

Okay, should be TOO bad right? People never get their personalities right in fan stuff. Thanks to the Bats being Cryptids. So Tim can just pretend they're other people, right?

Wrong.

The game world he quickly realizes, is using HIS knowledge to fill in the blanks of the massively unfinished framework. This assholes Meta powers? Can only trap him IN here. He's not in control of it. NO ONE IS. Oh, that's so much worse.

Outside? Bruce has BatDad'd panic beat downed the Otome Meta. Where is his BABY BOY!? He can't answer you unconscious, Bruce. Thankfully, Dick is observant. There us a computer on. With Tim on it. He puts two and two together. They are able to keep the power on and transfer the computer to the cave.

Meanwhile? Tim is staring down a Bruce in FULL Brucie Mask. Debating with himself. Because on ONE hand? Childhood wet dreams: Get? But on the OTHER, baggage for daaaaays. And there us no guarantee this isn't a PG title. So like? Bruce would DEFINITELY be the hardest Route, wouldn't he?

He has no idea what he's doing.

He doesn't PLAY these type of games.

He figures, since demon child DOESNT have a reason to hate him here? Probably the safest bet. Especially since he won't feel as bad manipulating a version of him. It should be fine right?

Wrong. He doesn't play these sort of games. Is unaware of how they work and what's at stake. He bungles it. Doesn't play to the troupes, gets his first Bad End. He knew just a touch TOO much, too soon, too openly. Damian's character became convinced he was either a Rouge or an Assassin. But! He got all those "heart event" thingies! Tim mentally protests!

Which is why it doesn't just cut to black, a sudden attack from behind, "Game Over".

No, Tim wakes up behind bars. In a bunker. Nicer then a prison cell, but only just. Because Damian LOVES him. But can not allow him to continue his criminal ways. So he's going to rehabilitate him. By force if necessary. And he knows, because he is not a fool, that Tim does not truely love him. But?

He can fix that too.

They have time.

Outside? Actual Damian is horrified. His feelings towards Drake are... complexe. But this?! Absolutely not! He lunges forward. Dick is trying desperately to hit the Restart. It's not working. Damian hits it HARDER. It works immediately. (They later realize only the "Route" target can restart the game)

Tim wakes up in the starting room.

This time he fuckin LOOKS UP Otome Games on a computer.

Takes a bracing shot of whiskey, because this IS Drake Manor and he knows where his parents hid the good stuff, and tries again. Gets the Neutral End. Fuck! Okay, tries AGAIN. Gets shot, Game Over. Oh god damn it!

He keeps going.

Nothing seems to be WORKING. He's getting stressed. Lonely, desperate, hopelessness trying to set in. He just... just wants to feel WARM you know? Reassured. Held. Knows he's not thinking clearly, but...

So he goes after "Brucie". He KNOWS Bruce. Knows how he picks his one night stands. Knows how to dress up just enough, just OFF enough, to not be suspicious. It's a bad idea. He knows it as he gets dressed. As he arrives. Flirts. Charms and drinks, but not too much. Let's himself be tucked under Bruce's arm. Led away.

Kon always said he was great with his mouth. From the way "Brucie" tenses, like iron under the sild of his suit, holding himself back from grabbing and being rougher then his reputation would allow? He'd say Bruce agrees. Tim certainly puts his all into it. Let's himself lose himself to the rhythm of movement. The scent of Bruce's cologne. The slide over his tounge.

Stolen moments though, aren't enough to get to everything Bruce wants.

The party ends too soon. And Tim leaves with the other guests.

Only to find himself FIRMLY in Bruce's route. The man showing up everywhere. Stealing kisses. Hands disappearing under clothes. Bruce, as he tends too, obsessed. In love. Overwhelming. Tim finally, FINALLY get a Good End.

He also gets fucked, in his bed, within an inch of incoherence, by Batman.

Yet the Game does not release him. Because it did not say "complete A Route" the realse conditions were Complete the GAME. So now Tim has to "win" the others.

All while they watch.

Because THEY are the only ones who can start a new route. Bruce absolutely could have hit that restart once the Good End popped up. Yet... he let the scene play out. Sat, alone, having sent the others to bed... and watched his son get fucked by a version of himself. Watched his son gasp and whimper, cry out and sob, in pleasure.

They each get to watch. As Tim bonds with "them". Spends time with "them".

Eventually, Tim manages the secret Harem Ending. Stumbles free into the waiting arms of his family. They rejoince. But the question remains~! What will they do know? After so long, thinking darkly that they could "do better"? That TIM deserved better then the touch of imposters? That is the question we ask! As I run out of steam and need to sleep! Thoughts?

-🐼🐼🐼

tim's family watching as he works through all their "routes" 👀👀👀👀

[snugglesquiggle]

i am asking about your ocs

give me a yap about one of your favorites >:3

you asked this in the middle of me trying to edit HT so i hope you know what you've done >.>

so um. my favorite is probably Mewla Asetari but i don't think the world is ready for the Mewla yap yet

"squiggleyapper, tell me about your favorite oc" "you couldn't handle my favorite oc, mutual. my favorite oc is fit for book, let alone a blogpost. you better go to a yapper who cooks normaler characters"

taunting aside, the problem with mewla is that she's such a damn complex girlboss queenfailure. to understand her, you need to know about the noble clan of asetari (importantly, her mother uvema, and to understand her you need to cover the second grand trial at least) as well as how their bloodline abilities works (which has at least three separate mechanics), and you need to understand the deal with the unbrood black ops, and as well as the context of the third grand trial

and even that's skipping over all the background needed to understand black nerve in the first place, which at this point is an intimidatingly complex setting to get into. and if you think any of that sounds interesting, i haven't even mentioned how her husband was a failed prophet or how she split in two then repeatedly cheated death to master the impossible art of intangibility, or the mundane stuff like her anti-fascist terrorism arc

...honestly, maybe it's me who's not ready to write about mewla :s

instead, i think i’ll try someone simpler first. (this is not me tempting fate, do not curl O monkey’s paw).

i’m gonna tell you about Prince Lucien Aetheart. i figure you’ll appreciate this, because he’s from the cometverse like Knight‍-​Commander Novus and Vela, whose fight i yapped about all those months ago

so, Prince Lucien. he’s an aethling, one born of noble blood in the kingdom of Extola. but let's a put a read more here for the people scrolling past this

now, the line of royal succession is a curious thing in this kingdom. you see, a thousand years ago, comets fell to earth. comets are eldritch horrors. they’re kaiju, natural disasters, CR 20 monsters. they’re unnatural. just being around them causes some Color Out of Space type shit.

as you can image, the cometfall invasion was an apocalypse for humanity. in the midst of that war for existence, there was a minor lord who would later rename himself Cyrex. he fought (survived, rather) the worst of the cometfall. Cyrex was an enchanter of mediocre skill, and he should have died like thousands of his betters.

but Cyrex had a wife: Uluna, a descendant of the moonsingers from a distant isle. she awakened a innate enchantment seemingly purpose‍-​built for fighting comets. so Uluna became the hero of humanity, banishing the comets with moonsong

and Cyrex capitalized on his position as the husband (owner, almost) of the Uluna. he declared himself a king, and waged war through the post‍-​apocalyptic medieval wasteland until his kingdom encompassed Extola.

with access to the greatest enchanters of a whole continent, and with all the worshipful gratitude directed toward Uluna, the king and queen were blessed with the finest boons of lifecanting there was.

but Cyrex had seen the worst of the cometfall. not only did he cling to life, he needed to become more, push beyond the limits of humanity until he might bear to think of a comet without trembling.

and, to make this long tangent short, he became more. so much more.

you see, the king of extola cannot die, and has ruled for over a thousand years.

thus, Lucien Aetheart was born his great, great, great (dozens omitted) grandson. he had the finest tutors — because refinement and sophistication is all a prince can aspire to. one of the first things taught to him is that, like some forty odd prince and princess before him, he will never sit on the throne.

Lucien’s parents died when he was six, and his aloof, dismissive tutors are the closest thing to family he grew up with. his parents died, and he would die, and what would any of it matter in the end?

he looks at the throne adorned with sanctified skulls, and decides no. he will be immortal, one day. he will be king. and if that means treason — well, subtlety and sophistication is what a prince can aspire to.

as a sidenote, i’ll briefly mention the Heirs of the Mother Void. this is a cult borne of the insight of Brother Lychon. Lychon was a cunning enchanter tragically cut down in his prime by his former best friend and burried in the ground. then he saw the light of the mother void, and rose again. “Death ain’t shit”, as he always says

you can understand why Lucien would be interested in a group — but lucien doesn’t, not at first. the heirs are secretive. in Book One of Aurora Moonrise, Lucien will be traveling the land in search of leads for the Heirs’ operations

this is how he crosses paths with the protagonist, a girl named Aurora. a few years younger than him, with no skill at enchanting worth speaking off — and yet she wields a masterwork crystal sword with perfect attunement. suffice it to say, Lucien’s interest is piqued.

throughout the second arc of the book, Lucien would training Aurora, as well as teaching the peasant girl noble manners. this puts him at odds with Morri, Aurora’s first friend, a girl born to a bandit with nothing but disdain for the nobility.

i wont recount what happens in detail, because this isn’t about them :p

but i will spill some ink discussing what the arc reveals about Lucien’s character. first of all, his personal enchantment is called ⸢Three Pledges Under Fire⸥

you see, he has an enchanted ring. with the hand wearing the ring (or any tool held in the hand, such as a weapon) whenever he touches something, he can ‘tag’ it.

he maintains a sense/awareness of all active tags.

these tags are otherwise undetectable and have no effect on the tagged object.

(in fact, tagging an object cannot have an effect — weapons will deal no damage)

each tag is one third of a spell. he must decide the spell when the tag is placed, and cannot change it later.

he can only have 3 tags at a time. if he already has 3 tags, he may choose one to revoke at will.

an object can only have one type of spell tag.

finally, the upshot of all of this. if he manages to place three tags on an object, he may snap his fingers and the spell takes place, exponentially more powerful, or with a dramatic new effect.

some examples of use: ‍-​ he lands a sword swing against you — yet it’s oddly dull and light, as if you were simply hit with a big stick. then again nothing, and finally come the third, you think you have nothing to fear from his blade. then he snaps his fingers and your arm falls off ‍-​ he throws himself out the way of your attack, falling to a crouch and tapping the ground. circling around, he overcommits to an attack, swinging downward till his hand touches the ground. you think nothing of it. and one last time, he taps the ground. still, nothing at all happens! you laugh and press the offense, swords clashing and sparking. when he maneuvers you over that spot, snaps his fingers, and the ground explodes beneath you ‍-​ he’s trying these above strats, and others. he parries your sword and there’s a telltale glow of him placing a tag. what’s he planning to do with your sword? in between placing other, he taps the bracer on his arm. but you’re pressing the offense hard enough he can hardly afford the distraction. he fumbles, you get an opening, and he tries to block it with his arm (ha. it’ll hurt regardless) — and he snaps his finger, and his arm resists you as solidly as a brick wall

as you might gather, the intent for him is to be something of a hypertactical chessmaster.

he’s prideful, though. do you recall the infodump last time about gravitas loci and how powerful it’s supposed to be? surely something like that would be uncontroversial tool in everyone enchanter’s toolbox. lucien disagrees:

Gravitas isn’t the culmination of enchanting in the slightest; it’s a dead end, a distraction. It’s a terrible idea, through and through — you’re relying on something outside of yourself as the source of your power. Something completely callous and inhuman, on top of that. Do you think the earth cares about you? Its only will is for all things to fall. Do you know what happens to people who lose themselves in earth‍-​resonance? We call them gemfiends.

so, what does Lucien think the real pursuit of enchanting is, then?

sorry advance for the chonky quote

Out in the gardens, Lucien walks with a rapier held out, gesturing as he lectures. “No doubt, you’ve come to understand that the bedrock of enchantment is will, the intent to use a tool with vigorous effort. The common enchanter will tell you the key to refining your will is understanding your tool, even going so far as to urge you to craft it yourself. After all, latent within the tool itself are those qualities an enchantment can amplify, or spells provoke. I cannot call them fools for this, but this parochial wisdom neglects what constitutes true, powerful enchanting.” Aurora frowns. “Will, intent, and focus. My teacher said all enchantment—” “I’m sure she was well‍-​intentioned. But it’s common advice for a reason. You can sell foci. You can teach mere intent to anyone. But will? What is will?” “Great enchanters have great wills,” Aurora echoed lamely. “People speak of it as if it were innate, as if the masters were born with willpowers inscribed in their destiny. The reason no one instructs will is because at its core, improving the will is painfully introspective, and terribly philosophical. Your will is what drives you. When you swing your sword, it is not enough to want to swing it. It is not enough, even, to want to cut your opponent. Cutting your opponent down must be the culmination of the very essence of your being. The most powerful enchantment is woven with a will that would falter no sooner than your will to live itself would fail you.” “You have to give it your all,” Aurora summarizes. “But then, you’d never want to run from any fight, if your will never ever faltered.” “Power is knowing yourself. You must know why you fight, and pick only those battles you must fight. There is a untold strength in being unfaltering. Have you heard of the Ultima Canto, Aurora? It is the greatest spell an enchanter can ever weave. The distillation of their will into one absolute truth, so powerful even eldritch spirits cannot violate it. But there is no way to ever speak the Ultima Canto without knowing oneself. So tell me, Aurora, what do you stand for?”

another thing worth knowing about lucien is that, like all nobles, he is a lifecanter, capable of healing the sick. this drives some of Aurora’s initial interest in him; she wants to know about lifecanting because Aurora’s first teacher had a terminal case of fantasy mentor disease and died in the first arc bc they couldn’t cure her.

(it turns out lifecanting wouldn’t have been able to save her — the disease that killed the mentor was also anime mom disease what took Lucien’s own parents from him, even though they had all the riches in the land.)

anyway, after some climatic drama, Aurora and Morri run away one morning before the break of dawn, just ahead of a court ruling that they are wanted as accomplices to a spirit enthralling humans unlawfully.

in the process, though, the pair wind up killing a baron, and this is how they cross paths with Lucien.

King Cyrex (he insists the prince call him ‘father’) knows that Lucien was there with the baron was killed and let the girls get away with it. so the king tells him to fix his mess, and bring them to justice

by now, the dryad maiden Kheimon has bound Aurora with her vines, and she is en route for the capital — but Morri still remains at large. so Lucien sets out on horseback to track down this wannabe bandit

i don’t think i’ve laid the ground work to properly hype this fight up. Morri is a cute character, i think. sidekick/rival vibes, Aurora fights her in one of the early chapters, defeats her, realizes their both grieving dead parents, and so she asks her to join the party.

she spends the rest of the first arc terribly unsung; Aurora’s mentor dislikes and is suspicious of her, refusing to teach her anything. we get some hints that Morri has unrevealed depths to her — she has a strong affinity for communing with spirits, and knows a thing or two about brewing potions. also, she has a hunting dog familiar made out of tree bark. a timberwolf :3

(actually, have i mentioned she’s a wolfgirl? cuz that’s a thing. dog ears, fluffy tail, and claws)

but there’s something big i’m glossing over. why is aurora’s mentor suspicious of her? how is she so capable of communing with spirits? is killing one random baron really enough to get a warrior‍-​prince sent to hunt you down?

who was Morri’s mother, anyway?

she was a witch, and she taught her daughter bloodcanting, a vile art considered a high crime by the crown — treason against human flesh.

you see, Morri uses blood sacrifice to commune with spirits and empower her attacks. she was sandbagging in her fight against Aurora, and after that she didn’t use much of her true power, at first first because Aurora’s mentor was always watching, and then once she came to care about Aurora, she didn’t want to offend her heroic sensibilities.

but now? Morri’s on her own, and Lucien really pisses her off.

so just this once, we see Morri go all out. using blood magic to tap into her canine nature, with magic claws and fangs and windswift speed.

it’s not enough to instantly win — Lucien has studied the blade all his life — but it’s close, and isn’t that embarassing? Lucien is a prince of the realm, and here was a lowborn bandit girl keeping pace with him.

a major reveal happens in this fight. remember how bloodcanting is treason against human flesh, but every noble is a lifecanter? what’s the difference between the two?

what’s the difference between Lucien and Morri?

Lucien says:

The difference? You’re right, it just comes down to wants in your veins, I suppose. I’m allowed to do anything, because I’m noble. You aren’t, because you’re nothing.

there’s character development for morri here too, but again, this isn’t about her. without that, it does make the conclusion to this fight feel a bit on the nose, but hey, i’m just yapping here

Morri goes:

Remember what you told Aurora, about will? Who do you think has the stronger will, between the two of us? To me, mister prince, you are everything I despise. But to you? I’m nothing.

all of this serves to give Lucien his first major character development. on the verge of being killed by a demihuman and witch, he awakens.

with rapier‍-​blade he slashes a circle in the ground and expands it. truly, he’s been reduced to chosing one embarrassment or the other — or was it an embarassment? what foolish pride it was to think he could ever achieve power without relying on anyone else.

after all, what’s a king without a kingdom?

with that thought, Lucien casts his Gravitas Loci for the first time.

…and he still doesn’t capture or kill Morri ;p

she escapes — she’s forced to run away — so at least he spares himself the embarassment of being bested by her.

Lucien drops from the narrative mainstage after that; this is Aurora’s story, after all. the climax of book one happens, and then there’s extended epilogue chapters showing what happens to various characters.

namely, it’s revealed that, after failing to capture Morri, the disappointed king strips the prince of honors and sends him down to fight on the frontlines fo the ongoing war to colonize the southern continent, Tinen.

thus kickstarting Lucien’s pov arc, “Salvation by Fire”. now, the notes i have for this section don’t hold up (originally, he was going to be placed under the command of Novus, but what happens here doesn’t line up with Novus’s later characterization, specifically his refusal to use ⸢Meteor Heart Explosion Pulse⸥ until Vela forces him too.)

but i should probably get on with what happens this arc

some hardass commander (not Novus) is trying to whip Lucien into shape, and failing. the prince has been sent to lead a squad of rookies to wet their feet attacking an enemy site. they venture into a forest; Lucien is scouting out ahead while others from his squad makes camp.

in the woods, Lucien encounters a girl younger than him. the girl spots him, and runs away scared, hiding a nearby bush. one of his soldiers, also scouting, comes to him, asking if Lucien saw anything. he thinks, and choses to say he saw nothing.

Lucien keeps scouting till he finds the enemy site his superior told him to raid. except he looks closer, and realizes it’s not a military base at all — it’s just a village. it’s just civilians.

he returns to camp and tells his squad he had no luck finding the base. while he’s keeping watch, he’s almost nodding off, but catches movement — it’s the girl, so desperately hungry she’s willing to raid a soldier’s camp for food.

Lucien’s confused. don’t they have farmland or whatever peasants do?

they did. then the extolan bastards burnt and salted it all.

luciens feeds the girl and tells her to be careful out there.

she laughs. there’s no way to be careful with extolan soldiers this close.

anyway, lucien returns to his superiors claiming he completely failed the mission assigned to him. the disappointment and discipline that results is obvious. worse, he soon overhears a crystal ball conversation between the commander and the king. king straight up doesnt care if Lucien lives or dies at this point. if he keeps being more trouble than he’s worth, just kill him lol.

as you can imagine, instead of sleeping that night the prince just stares into space, gripped with despair. his life’s forfeit. ‘immortal one day?’ ‘king one day?’ what a joke.

it’s his turn for night watch before he gets a lick of sleep. an hour or two in, he smells the acrid stench of smoke. the forest is on fire. he makes no effort to warn anyone to evacuate. what would be the point? what does any of this matter?

maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, maybe it’s the callous disregard of his “father” upseting him more then he realizes, but Lucien sees the distantly approach flames coming to consume the forest, and envies it. envy for the flames, or for the forest?

either way, he approaches. skin‍-​slicking heat, suffocating smoke, but he marches through it.

(if he dies here, what does it matter?)

a chapter would end there, followed by pov of the the girl. recounting how she had overheard lucien lying to his squad about her and helping her, intercut with impassionated rants about how much her life sucks and it’s the fault of the evil kingdom. after Lucien tells her to be careful, she instead keeps poking around — there’s almost nothing left in her village to go back to.

like that, she gets captured by soldiers. taken to a secret tent far from the main camp, and interrogated with spilled blood and screams. she contemplates whether starving in the dirt would be better than this.

and then the commander enters the tent. the ignorant girl was no use to their information‍-​gathering efforts — but the girl will give them information. in the form of experimental data. you see, in secret the commander’s been working to achieve something big

as the commander takes a knife and inscribes runes deep into the girl’s flesh, he makes small talk. rants, rather. one of the things that particularly vexes him as of late is the prince. the sheer lack of ambition in that boy is an insult. content to be a pampered prince, unwilling to put in the work to achieve true greatness. he can’t imagine living life in the shadow of giants and not trying to shine larger

which brings us to why this guy is vivisecting this girl. as you can imagine, he’s stuck in a shadow of his own — Knight‍-​Commander Novus is the metric by which all commanders are found wanting. this is its own insult. the spell that made Novus so great is one that man refuses to ever cast again.

thus, the commander has been attempting to replicate what Novus was afraid of — ⸢Meteor Heart Explosion Pulse⸥. he’s going to turn her into a enchanted object.

the commander knows Novus’s spell is one that somehow uses lifeforce to fuel an explosion, but the details elude him. by the time he finishes carving, it’s all quiet; he’s run low on rants, and she’s run low on screams.

now, all that’s left is for the soldiers to plant his new bomb near the enemy base, detonate and watch the lightshoq. he regard the girl with smile. “thank you, dear. this might be the most help any of you people have ever been. you’ll go down in history for this.”

and in that moment, with those words and that smug smile, all of the hatred for Extola comes rushing back in a maelstorm. and then…

it’s incorrect to say that this commander turned her into an enchanted object — life itself is spell, and every beat of the heart enchants the flesh and every breathe in a incantation. sure, it was the commander’s enchantment now carved onto her body — but it was her body.

fear shines bright in his eyes now — not fear, fire. the spell had activated, under her will, and blazes out in a deadly wreathe of flames now. his flesh is first so much sweat and then so much bubbling fat. he’d run low on rants, but he still had plenty of screams left.

and although the girl had no screams left, she had plenty to rant about. every indignity forced upon her people. every brag and whinge the commander spoke now twisted againsts him. every insult he had for Lucien, and yet that boy might be the most help any of you bastards has ever been. “you wouldn’t have less of a heart if i ripped it out of your chest.”

hatred crackles around the girl, and power newly awakened and surging. she’s cackling mania, and she hardly notices that her tormentors had become piles of ash. years starving, helping, clawing at the dirt, and now she can feast on all the raw energy of conflagration.

the forest goes up in flames — and in the end, she becomes exactly what the commander hoped to create.

her village lay in that forest. as she becomes an elemental of ever‍-​spiraling flame, she can’t stop burning any more than you could stop shivering in the cold.

she’s all intuition and knee‍-​jerk associations of thought. so when her village erupts, when everyone she knows and loves is a chorus of screams, she thinks of the soldiers she’d burnt to a crisp and how they screamed.

ultimately, she’s but crackling hatred and exhilerating power. the maddening part of becoming a weapon to destroy her people is that it’s so fucking satisfying.

and then so much of the forest is alight that there’s so little left to feast upon. she’s peaked and coming down. she’s hatred — not crackling but crumbling like wood ashes in horror of what she’s done: self‍-​hatred.

and then that boy is standing there, staring into her flames, into her.

if she could immolate her own flesh and blood, she could certainly burn another extolan bastard who’s sole virtue was not being the literal worst.

except her family screamed and fled like her tormenters. Lucien doesn’t scream nor move.

he stares, and his visage of despair looks so much like the expression on that face she once had

the girl‍-​turned‍-​elemental burns herself out, and at length, she discovers that she does, in fact, still have a body: a skeleton disfigured by runes and caked in ash. she’s not human, anymore, but nor is she a fiend. she’s something known in theory and legend.

comet spirits were the light of stars caged in ice. nature spirits were the light of one sun sprouted from air. (elusive weather spirits were but nature spirits with monk‍-​like abnegation)

a wildfire spirit is the light of lives lost to the pyre.

(the first life, of course, being her own)

Lucien had lost everything; his king forsook him, his squad is dead, and soon he’ll be too, if he reports back admitting he let this all happen. when the wildfire spirit speaks to him, tells him who she was and what was done to them with a numb voice, he’s outrage.

in that moment, his despair wanes, eclipsed by an emotion he’d never felt before, and never this strongly. once again, the wildfire is pained to see his visage mirror her own; he hates.

but he won’t hate face down in the dirt. the general thought he lacked ambition? no, he had a goal.

he looks back at the wildfire spirit, and holds out his hand.

“let’s burn that kingdom to the fucking ground.”

so, after all that payoff, i’ll end with more teasing.

remember how i said i wanted to talk about Lucien Aetheart? yeah, i lied. i actually wanted to talk about Myrka of the Mother Void, but, when i’m 4k words in and this isn’t even what i planned to do today, i think i can be excused. before getting from here to Myrka, we’d need to talk about Lilianna and Kheimon and Erato.

if it makes for a better defense, there’s also the fact that Book Two is a mess and needs a rewrite, or at least some kind of organization, and what ultimately happens to Lucien is deeply entangled with that plot.

if you read all that… wow, you really did want the yapping. thanks for bearing with me. sorry and/or you’re welcome

<3

[gorbalsvampire]

Do you have any general advice on involving human touchstones? (And, as a bonus round, any advice on how to handle touchstones that live somewhere other than your chronicle's city? How to make them matter, still bring the drama, etc.)

So I've had to sit on this one for (checks notes) ten days, because - OK, Red, you found my secret weakness. I am terrible at maintaining a mortal focus in my games. I am, on this occasion, the person V5 was designed to course correct. That said, I have made some progress since I first picked up the V5 books. Here's how.

One Touchstone per Conviction is bullshit. Coming up with Convictions is already a challenge, and now you have to ideate a whole person for each one? In theory this makes you create multiple mortals and really make you think about the World your characters live in and their roots. In practice it seems to result in part-baked NPCs who are there because the book says they have to be and never get used. So, turning to Requiem where the mechanic originates, and to VtM: Redemption (my beloved) which presents it as a plot beat, we have one Touchstone for each character.

Touchstones are not just Touchstones. Again, I get what the V5 devs were trying to do here - incidental, fleeting, arms-length, parasocial, parasitical, one-sided relationships - but I don't think it quite lands in terms of wanting to use the characters and having a purpose for them. Touchstones are at their best, IMO, if they rise out of Merits or Flaws, if they're associated with an advantage or disadvantage the character has to use or deal with. One could argue that for Finlay in the Wild Roses game, their Enemy Lucas is their Touchstone. Their rivalry has defined Finlay's life since before their Embrace, and ensuring Lucas doesn't get to join them in undeath is a constant drive for their actions. Cali's Touchstone is Mr. Morecambe, his family solicitor, who's locked into his Disliked and Destitute Flaws: Cali's quick mouth and quicker fists have landed him with multiple assault charges over the years, and the wealthier side of his family only relate to him through a legal intermediary. One could similarly argue that for SPC Kieron, his Stalker Sarah is his Touchstone. Sarah is a journalist - a theatre critic - who's trashed Kieron in print multiple times but still turns out to every show he directs, and Kieron's boyfriend Callum has remarked that someone needs to Embrace that woman because she has the vampire attitude down already. Kieron's had an opportunity to kill her - on the edge of hunger frenzy, he cornered her in a phonebox and fed from her - but he didn't kill her because, a) that would be wrong and b) he recognises he needs his most vituperative critic to tell him what he's doing wrong. I think Touchstones work as an incentive to not buy off Flaws with XP. You need this person, for some reason. They remind you that you could be worse, and need to be better. For a positive, tied-to-Merits example: Sister Alzbeta in the Dark Ages game has Sister Ruth as her Touchstone. A mentor figure who comes as part of the community in her convent Haven. Likewise, Mariam has Mendel, the son of her recently-deceased-in-mysterious-circumstances rabbi, and she's desperate to keep him safe from whatever Cainite nonsense is swirling around him - but he's a smart guy, he knows things, and he's known Mariam since they were kids, and he's going to work this out. Tension. TENSION! Their Coterie Type is Questari so investigating and learning about the secrets that threaten their communities is part of their whole deal and that's another hook to hang Touchstone relationships off. Your link to Humanity, capital-H, is also your link to your Domain Merits - I can never remember which one's which, I think it's Lien, the one that measures how integrated into the domain you are - anyway, to your little-h humans as well.

As for Touchstones who are outside the chronicle's immediate remit, I probably wouldn't - unless the player had a really cool idea. If that's the case, I trust the player to make the Touchstone relevant because it's theirs, and the kind of player that does this is going to bring their idea up.

So let's talk about Frankie's Touchstones. Frankie's lesbian aunties back in Finland, who raised them, and Frankie's daughter, who they were looking after while Frankie was studying in the UK (and never came back). This damaged goth MILF with a Past (loathsome ex, recovering from addiction, but a daughter she adores from afar) revealed her backstory over a few in-between nights and moments in the first two "seasons" of the chronicle, and it became part of her bond with Alistair as Coterie Mawla because he's had to raise a child at arm's length too. Their talk about that came at either the end of S1 or during S2, I forget now, but it was heartrending, and it's a big part of why they trusted each other going into the revolutionary activities of S3.

That sort of loops us back around to what I was saying earlier, though. By the Rules As Written, Touchstones are not necessarily linked to anything else on the character sheet, but if they are, they will be much more relevant to the players, and will become more present in play through reference and repetition. At least, that's what I've figured out so far.

[tyrantisterror]

I'm having too much fun with these.

Some context:

I did research on the Dark Urge route before playing it, because I'm the kind of nerd who feels the need to plan out their strategy for Role Playing Games before heading in, and ultimately decided to keep the default race of the Dark Urge as a white dragonborn while changing his class from sorcerer to paladin - the former because the evil albino snake aesthetic is pretty killer, and the later because I think playing a capital H hero with a code of capital H honor while dealing with a supernatural urge to be an evil murder man is thematically fun.

But I also had an ulterior motive in keeping the white dragonborn option - you see, if you romance Karlach, she'll ask you to try to figure out a way to cool her down, and being a white dragonborn gives you the option to blast your girlfriend in the face with ice breath so you can smooch.

I made intelligence and dex my dump stats since I knew Astarion would cover the later for me while Lump the Enlightened would cover the former. Thanks for the Flowers for Algernon crown you man-eating bastard!

I spent one section of the game adventuring with Lae'zel and Wyll in place of Astarion and Shadowheart, because there were two storybeats I thought they'd be well suited for (Karlach remained for obvious reasons). Eventually there was this dowry hidden in a hay bale that NONE of my characters spotted, so I quick went back to camp and swapped Wyll out for Astarion to get some fresh eyes on it. Well, when we go back to the main map, Astarion is inexplicably on the roof of the building and won't leave of his own volition. So I take control of him and make him jump off, which deals a significant amount of damage to him (which I imagine is why his AI wouldn't make him jump on its own) - and worse, during the five seconds or so I was controlling him, the Dark Urge and Karlach jumped on the roof and now have to be made to jump off. It became a very stupid back and forth for a bit and I like to imagine that's why Lae'zel doesn't go out on that many missions with the gang.

One last, "serious" comic about this run after the cut.

(well, last for now I suppose, I might make more of these if the mood strikes me)

So, like I said before, I initially tapped out of this playthrough when I hit the moment where the Urge unavoidably kills Alfira, because I grew to really like her in my Tav playthrough and it kinda fucked me up to see her, you know, die by my hands. I just didn't have the stomach for it.

But as my brainrot sketching has shown, the hook of this playthrough struck a chord with me. There is something so damn compelling about a Dark Urge trying so damn hard to be a good person, to be helpful and kind, all the while his own instincts and even the omniscient 3rd person narrator conspire to make him look at everything through a lens of cruelty and violence. I didn't want to kill Alfira, but I didn't want to abandon the Dark Urge either.

So I read up on the work around where you knock Alfira out cold so she doesn't show up in camp - the game compensates by having ANOTHER bard show up, establish her own distinct and likable personality, and get killed by you instead. Which I guess means that if I had to kill someone, I'd prefer it to be a stranger than a person I know? I don't know, it's emotionally affecting either way, but at least Alfira's alive.

We're going to get through it, Durge my buddy. We're gonna get you the help you need.

[elidoesntbreathwee]

It all started in a bathroom stall. Steve and Robin had been drugged by Russians, and were high off their minds, a little less now though.

"But Tammy Thompson's a girl..."

"Steve"

"Oh... Holy shit."

Robin, his best friend, his crush at one point, like girls. He knew that if he had been who he was in high school, he would have walked away from her forever, and thank fuck that he isn't. It finally, REALLY clicked for him; girls can like girls, and boys can like boys, and it isnt weird, or of the devil, or whatever people are saying.

Now he understood one of his kids more, and thats always a plus. Will probably would have never said anything explicitly to Steve. Will liked Steve, he thought he was cool, but Will could barely work up the guts to tell Dustin, Lucas and Mike (though Mike sort of always knew) But Steve also kind of knew, so he didn't make Will come out or anything, just pulled him aside and told him that he could be who he was, and that Steve wouldn't judge.

Then Steve thought. He thought back on high school, about the weird feeling he had about Tommy H. Steve thought he just loved him as a friend would. He was wrong about that feeling. He realized he didn't have the "close friends" feeling about Tommy H. after being taken to the police station after getting into one heck of a fight with Johnathan Byers. Yeah, so those close friend feelings weren't close friend feelings. "King Steve" had once had a *crush* on Tommy H. of all people.

This didnt make any sense to Steve.

"But i like girls, i always have. How could i have like Tommy H. in that way, and still like girls" he thought

He didn't know what to do, so he asked the closes one to him, his Platonic (with a capital P) other half, his best friend, who also happened to be a lot more knowledgeable about this topic. He asked Robin.

"Hey Rob, what if someone, let's call them, Mark. What if Mark had always like girls, but one day he realized he liked a guy. What would Mark do?"

"Well, I don't know "Mark", but i assume that he would panic a bit, then go to his best friend and tell her about it, and then she would say ' Well, Mark, you can be bisexual. That means you like girls AND boys' and then she would hug Mark"

Robin hugged Steve.

"Its ok", she started, "that you're still figuring out who you are, Steve. And im always here if 'Mark' has anymore questions"

They laughed and went back to whatever they were doing on that particular night.

Then the world needed saving again, and one Eddie Munson was a suspect for murder. Dustin knew Eddie, and knew that he would never do that, so Steve had to help Dustin (and Eddie) by 1) getting rid of Vecna (a.n. getting rid of the B, iykyk) and 2) clear Eddie's name

It did not go according to plan, of course. First Steve comes closer to death than he would like, (which is nowhere near it) then Death looks Eddie in the eyes, but Eddie, being himself, looked Death straight back and told him, 'No, fuck off'. At least they finished Vecna. (as far as they know)

But the biggest thing that didn't go according to plan was Steve's new big fat crush on Eddie-fucking-Munson. Of course, because Steve needs more drama in his life, so why doesn't Life through a crush on a drama queen like Eddie (a.n. get it, cuz he's a theater kid. idec if its cannon, its just flat out true) into his life.

The worst part of it is that now Stee knows what he's feeling and has to worry about if Eddie's straight or not, and knowing his luck, Eddie was about 99.99% likely to be straight. But Steve held on to that 00.01% chance that *maybe* Eddie liked guys. But Steve? Why would someone like Eddie Munson, goofball, metalhead, and 'dragon game narrator thing', like boring old, ex-king, Steve Harrington.

But Eddie keeps looking at him in a way, a way that makes Steve feel like he might have a decent chance with Eddie. He keeps pressing up to Steve. To be fair though, Eddie does that with everyone, y'know, getting up in their faces, leaning on people. But with other people, it's only for a few seconds, with Steve, though, he lingers, like he wants to be near Steve all the time. Steve wouldn't mind that though, not at all.

Guess who Steve tells first. If you guessed Eddie, then you're wrong. If you guessed Robin, then you win! He didn't really want advice, he just wanted to tell someone; to get it off his chest.

Robin listened, as a good friend does, and they moved on from it, Steve not wanting to linger on the subject.

Then, one evening, the whole gang had come over to Steve's for a movie night. They were 2 movies in, when Eddie left to go smoke outside. Robin encouraged Steve to go with him, even though Robin didn't like that Steve still occasionally smoked, she could let it rest for a bit in the name of love.

Outside, Eddie was leaning against the railing of the back porch. Steve walked up to the railing as well, silently.

"Nice sky. Pretty stars" Eddie said, in between puffs, breaking the silence

"Yeah, it is. You happen to have an extra?"

Eddie handed Steve a spare cigarette and handed him his lighter as well. The two smoked in silence for about 10 minutes.

"Didn't know you smoked, Steve"

"Surprised?"

"Yeah, i guess. I don't really know. I've been thinking, y'know. Before a few months ago, the only way i knew you was by how you were in high school. Dustin had told me you changed, and i guess i believed him, but I never knew how much you'd changed. I've said it before and i'll say it again, you're a good guy, Steve. Hell, you're a great guy, and i guess I'm still jealous of-"

"Of what?" Steve interpreted him. "Of my stupid hair? Of how i can't win a fight? Of my stupid fucking polo shirts? What's there to be jealous of?" Steve said the last sentence quietly, looking down at the ground below the porch.

"Steve..."

"Hm?" Steve said without looking up. He had already gotten through his whole cigarette and Eddie was just about done with his when he said:

"You know how much Dustin talks about you? The kid sees all the good in you, which, to be fair, is most of you. You're funny, and smart, and you may not win fights, but you sure as hell give it your all." Steve looked up at him, eyes tearing up.

Steve bit his lip to try and keep himself from crying, but it was no use, the tears had already started streaming down his face. Eddie ashed his cigarette and hugged Steve, giving him a shoulder to cry on. They swayed ever so slightly, which was comforting to Steve, even though he felt bad about crying in front of someone, much less in front of Eddie.

Steve cried for a few minutes, and when he had gotten most of his tears out, Eddie leaned back and wiped the tears off of Steve's face, cradling his cheek. Steve rested his forehead on Eddie's and before he knew it, Steve was kissing Eddie Munson.

When the two walked back into Steve's house, instead of going back to their original seats (Eddie next to Dustin on one couch and Steve next to Robin on the other) Steve and Eddie squeezed next to Robin (who was next to Nancy YIPPEE) and cuddled. Robin scooted closer to Nancy to give the two more room on the couch (and to be closer to Nancy) and Mike sat where Eddie had been sitting, and Will scooting closer to the couch Mike was on, but still sitting on the floor. Lucas, El and Max were already halfway asleep, so they didn't really realize anyone had moved, and Erica couldn't have cared less, because she had her ice cream and that was all that mattered.

And the rest if up to you and your imagination cuz i dont wanna keep writing :D Hope u liked :)

[trashcornertully]

unsolicited list of some of my current favourite monster prom ships atm and why

buckle up buckaroos. click "Keep reading" if you want to know Too Much. There are spoilers below the cut, so be wary!!

Milo/Damien ("Damilo" or "Revelation 20:14") Damien's an interesting character (despite what I've heard some detractors say) because he's a very sweet, sensitive guy with rad creative hobbies, but (mostly in Prom, less in Camp and Roadtrip) he paints a thick veneer of aggression and nonchalance over the top of it all. But he also enjoys that veneer, so he sort of inhabits two 'types' which, rather than competing, coalesce into one wild whole. Milo also contains multitudes. When I first played Camp it took me a while to perceive their depths, but the more I saw of them the more I got a taste for the person behind the persona. Their elegance and aestheticism is still a key aspect of who they are though, but it's offset by them being both funny and classy. I feel like Milo appeals to Damien's sensitive side, as well as his sartorial and cosmetic hobbies. Conversely, I think Damien's reckless tendencies would be exciting to Milo, and they have the choice to give themselves over or have a bit of fun trying to reign him in (which they're certainly powerful enough to do).

Dahlia/Joy ("Joylia" or "Goetia") While I always found this concept sweet and/or hot, I never expected I'd actually like it so much, but let's just say I got a couple of secret routes and now I really get it. Dahlia, like Damien, has a lot of facets hidden under her nominal motivation. So does Joy, although it's less of a secret that, despite her workaholic nature, she'd rather be doing anything other than constantly saving the world. Her and Dahlia are among the members of the Monster Prom cast that have full-on careers: Joy is a capital-"H" Hero, Dahlia is a warlord with vast off-screen armies at her disposal. Dahlia, like a couple of other characters, wants to be in the Coven so bad it makes her look stupid. I think however that Dahlia really just wants to be closer to Joy. They feel very star-crossed to me, both coming from rather different realms and spheres of influence, but always intersecting in fairly significant events. Two separate friends have shared the sentiment with me that, out of all the ships I've brain-rotted over, I feel like "Joylia" are the ones who would fully get married – even at the risk of one of their storylines interrupting the ceremony. Shout out to @ventagram.

Milo/Polly ("Molly" or "Afterlife") Milo and Polly are a brilliant pair, which @terrencemcterrence first opened my eyes to. My earliest ships involving Milo and Polly were actually putting them individually with Zoe, but "Molly" is a ship with a lot of steam behind it. First of all, they're both very "extra" characters with hidden depths. Secondly, they're both functionally immortal. They've got the potential to be rather bad influences on each other (Milo with their drive for recognition and extravagance, Polly with her dragon-chasing and dangerous impulses), but due to the nature of who they are both physically and psychologically, that's more likely to produce fun results than not. Overall this is a pretty decadent and enjoyable ship. Lots of potential for excellent fluff, deeper moments, wild zesty lemon, and perhaps a bit of poignant angst.

Zoe/Damien ("Zomien" or "Calamari") These two are the kind who'd bond over both their similarities and their vast differences. Both of them spent time in the Academy dealing with roles and responsibilities imposed on them unduly by parental figures. While it's the Player who helps them out with that in both cases, Damien has more overlap and interactions in Zoe's, being one of the major figures in her "IDENTITY" route, while Zoe doesn't really exist yet in many of Damien's routes. Regardless of that, their non-route interactions generally seem to indicate to me that Zoe genuinely has a crush on Damien based on the topics she chooses to discuss both with and about him. They're also both generally very creative and expressive in niche and personal ways. They're all about finding their own truth, perhaps more transparently than some other characters. "Zomien" for me is about exploring those feelings, and where they could take them. They're also just really cute together, prove me wrong.

—

That's all for now, 'cause this was basically a mini-essay. I'll happily answer any questions anybody has about these, or talk about other pairings I like if I can think of enough to say about them.

[tranquilspot]

[S] ==> The Note Desolation Plays

Very long thread ahead!

Alright! Time to comment on one of the most iconic Homestuck flashes. It has no command or name, so we'll use the name of the act:

The Note Desolation Plays First of, the flash itself.

The closeup on John never fail to get me, it's moving and impressive. The technique is simple and yet it's efficient. I think it's the first time we witness the Hero Mode. Followed by a change of scene (the empty streets). Then we zoom out, back to a more general shot, zooming out twice. Cue the visual narration.

The streets are empty. Wind skims the voids keeping neighbors apart, as if grazing the hollow of a cut reed, or say, a plundered mailbox.

Really interesting start. A simple direct description. 'The street are empty'. And then a more metaphorical one. Wind, void, neighbors. Cut reed. We went from a human/civilized/controlled concept to nature. Then back to a man-made object, the mailbox. There's an early preview of what's to come, the challenges and ideas that John will be confronted to. A breathe among the void, wandering, singing in a tube to travel and signal its presence. It's a pattern that will appear more and more in the future: the postal system on LOWAS, the pipes, and the organpipe at the end of his Land Quest. Heck, we were already introduced by DAD's pipes.

A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.

The wind travels and sing. It's now music. I always was fascinated by the instruments before the beginning of a concert. It seems dissonant by actually it creates something melancholic, anticipation, yet hopeful. The beginning before the beginning. A hint, to whats to come. 'Get ready'.

But who's playing? It is us, it is John, it is.. someone else?

It is your thirteenth birthday, and as with all twelve preceding it, something feels missing from your life.

This 'something feels missing from your life' is kinda vague. It seems like a neutral statement, but actually it's worrisome. Early signs of depression? Or does he feel like he hasn't done much in his life yet? Boy you're 13, you've got a lot of time ahead!

The game presently eluding you is only the latest sleight of hand in the repertoire of an unseen riddler, one to engender a sense not of mirth, but of lack.

Oooooh a mysterious character, a hidden Sphinx-like entity. They're holding the game like a playing card, one yet to be putted on the table. I like this part of the paragraph very much. But who's holding the card(s)? The author? The CEO of the Skaianet, the one behind the development of Sburb, Jake Harley? Or perhaps alt!Calliope herself, she herself is quite enigmatic and speak in riddles. 'One to engender a sense not of mirth, but of lack.' I think this sentence is quite ignored by all. One more reason to dig as much as we can. Mirth is laughter, joy and life, the opposite of lack. Life vs Void. I also found funny to see a word having 'gender' in it. OOOOHHH a new meaning appeared! If you're team eggbert, then the lack, the discomfort that John is feeling could be interpreted as gender dysphoria. The mirth being gender euphoria. But if you're on team cis, then it's highly possible that it's depression. Though it works for both cases.

His coarse schemes are those less of a prankster than a common pickpocket.

'His'? Is that a pronoun chosen by default, or specifically picked? LE? Also, alt!Callie and Jake don't fit the prankster shtick.

Maybe John is projecting because he's an aspiring prankster. Hmm, so this mysterious figure is not funny but more criminal. Malicious, perhaps? Or just cruel?

Unseen figure with unspoken plans, keeping like an apathetic thief the long-awaited game, the start of all, the end of all. The main plot, the full(ness) that will fill the empty. Additionally, 'His' could be God himself. Jesus' pronouns in the Bible are He/Him capital H if I recall correctly.

His riddle is Absence itself.

Can this riddle linked to the Ultimate Riddle? Or perhaps it's one and same thing? There is interpretation of what the UR can be, including a long-ass post that I read several times, cause it's dense and complex. For those that don't want to read the whole thing, the answer of the riddle would be: Do as you wish. Absence. 'Waiting for something to happen', perhaps? John wishes that something happen to him, something that will motivate him and change his life. It's an early exhibit of John's mindset. Doing nothing and waiting for an external output to push him around. It's a passive and submissive behavior.

It is a mystery dispersing altogether, like the moon's faint reflection, with even one pebble of inquiry dropped in its black well.

The ripples creates movement, and once it's set in motion, he sure is going, for a little while. Here, the answer seems to be within reach, but when we look for it it gets blurry. A mix of a truth not ready to be discovered yet, and an unseen force preventing him to uncover it.

It is the most diabolical riddle of all.

Me, when I try to understand why I'm not feeling well and what's my body trying to communicate to me..

But yeah, the kids will scratch their head for a while with that one!

"Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire." -Walt Whitman

Speaking of scratching, this one is a doozy. Extremely straight forward, and yet I have a hard time trying to link it to John's life and adventure. What would John attribute as "little passions" and "great ones"? "as wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire" is easily readable in a literal way. But for now its deeper meaning (how it applies to John) eludes me.

Alright, if it's the limits of my intellect, then let's check the work of someone who actually understood it! It's way too long to translate and put in this already long post, so I'm going to summarize it. This sentence is about relationship. According to Rochefoucald, there's no small loves but rather mediocre ones. Absence has a different effect depending of the nature of the relationship. If the bond is weak, the distance can make it dissipate. On the other hand, a strong bond can be strengthened by it. Distance makes us think and identify if a relationship is important for us or not. Thank fuck for this analysis. Now I get it! Anything that is of little importance disappear to John's eyes, but the game and his friends? It gets stronger. The more time separate him from Sburb and his reunion with the others, the more his desire is intensified.

Yes, you are certain Walt Whitman said that. One hundred percent positive.

Aaaand we're back to 'Attribute this quote to its proper author'. Woohoo! (audience claps) This time iiiiiit's…François Duc de la Rochefoucauld (pronounced rushfooko). Oh hey french dude. I wouldn't guess!

There's also several translations for this section: -"Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires." -“Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and fans the bonfire.”

I guess the one with mediocre in it is the closest translation.

Small love is fine too, after all when an author mentions 'passions' they often mean love. Also 'feu' refers to a chimney fire, or fire in general. If it was a bonfire, the author would have specified with "feu de joie/de camp". Anyway, that was the translation intermission haha. Gonna love language and interpretations~

You have a feeling it's going to be a long day.

Did you mean 3 years?! hahaha But yeah, it's going to be a long and tedious 24 hours. Well well, let's sum up and reach to a conclusion: Something is missing from John's life. Someone seems to play games with him, not of mischievousness, but cruelty. John is waiting, longing for something but isn't willing to be the one to make a move, no he rather be pushed in the desired direction in a passive way. John wants to reach a certain truth about himself, but fail to grasp it every time. He wants to but isn't ready to learn it. There's also the Ultimate Riddle, which is linked to his personal riddle. Maybe it's one and the same thing. And finally, the Rouchefoucauld quote. A meditation on John's relationships (friends), the game, and himself. A bond between absence and wind is made. The wind is a melancholic melody, the full, that fills the absence (depression?), the empty. Will John be able to take back control on his life? How will he transition to the rest of the afternoon after such a deep and heavy moment? ==>

[sylvanas-girlkisser]

Random 1am ramble because ✨I can't sleep✨

It annoys me how often SFF media, but especially scifi, envisions a future in which people, or at least the PoV characters are as, if not further removed from the production of goods as we are today.

Like everybody, except maybe the redditors, know that fast fashion is unsustainable, and yet so often the answer to "where do the clothes come from" is either:

A mega factory far away

A literal clothing printer

And it just feels like such an expression of a first world/late stage capitalism mindset right? Like if we're out there trying to terraform planets a gazillion light years from the nearest H&M, then we're gonna be shipping in new clothes whenever something breaks, we're going to need means of repairing and manufacturing.

And if we've already figured out technology that can efficiently turn just pure carbon into clothes, what are we doing out in nowhere space? We could be having orgies and eating ice cream!

Obviously food and clothing as examples have the added "stigma" of being considered "womens work", meaning a lot of creatives start to vomit blood if asked to think about it for more than 2 seconds but i digress.

The same can be said for tools, hygiene products, electronics etc. It has to come from somewhere. Centralized manufacturing and just-in-time shipping like we have today is hugely vulnerable to supply chain disturbances. Now imagine if you have to ship it ACROSS SOLAR SYSTEMS.

What I'm getting at is, have you ever tried to make a hammer with a 3d printer? It's gonna suck! Obviously 3d printers have their applications, but making it a one size fits all solution to the problems of scifi manufacturing, is a waste of worldbuilding potential and displays just a clear lack of interest in where things in the real world come from.

Also clothing and food more so than most other types of goods are thoroughly products of their environments and culture! And people have always worked to and wanted to personalize things right? Even if you have a society that violently enforces gray jumpsuits, bald heads and nutrient paste for all meals, people are going to find some way of making it their own.

Because, and I know this will hurt Black Library authors to hear, everyone - every single person that ever lived and ever will live - is an individual, and accounting for that is the central pillar of worldbuilding

[amtrak12]

❤️🧡🤍🩷💜A WLW ASK MEME❤️🧡🤍🩷💜 List the top 10 ladies you’ve been obsessed with Ever Of All Time! Then send this on to 5 sapphic mutuals 👩‍❤️‍💋‍���

Yes, fun! :D Thank you!!

Okay, I went fictional characters with this because I just don't really get obsessed with RL people outside of like a 5 year period between 2005-2010 where I followed select actors around to other shows. Also, there's only three ladies who I can confirm fit both 'obsessed' and 'ever of all time', so I've trudged through my entire childhood for every fictional lady who's helped shape my personality to round out the list.

In Chronological Order (to me not by air date):

Margaret Houlihan (M*A*S*H) -- Oh MASH reruns on the Hallmark channel, my beloved 💚 Now, I'm primarily talking about the juicy middle seasons after Potter took over command and Loretta Swit was able to wrestle some better storylines for Margaret, but there's some gems in the early years too. I've been drawn back to MASH three times as an adult and each time I get sucked deeper and deeper into both the real life history of the Korean War and the fictional character of Margaret. Do I have a thousand and one headcanons for how she handles life after the war? Yes. Am I obsessed with whatever platonic/sexual relationship she's got going on with Hawkeye? Yes. Have I plotted out what her D&D character might look like? YEP! She's a paladin :P I also believe if you examined her character through a queer lens, you'd find a trans man rather than a queer woman, but your mileage may vary.

AndrAIa (ReBoot) -- Yeah, yeah, yeah it's a cartoon, but bb 11 year old me was absolutely OBSESSED with this show, and AndrAIa was a big part of that. Look at her little capital AI in her name! 😭 25 years before corporate greed ruined the acronym, that AI was adorable!! And very clever given that she was an NPC game sprite who decided to leave her game and live as a real sprite. Her whole existence and vibe was very formative for me. I love her.

Harley Davidson Cooper (Guiding Light) -- Yes, her full name is absolutely necessary, even if no one ever used it. So, I was SUUUCH a CBS soap girlie back around 2000-2002, and I've been very nostalgic for it in the last few years. As the World Turns was my primary soap, so I figured one of my regular blorbos like Rose or Katie or Romana would be the one I miss most. But then Harley's actress Beth Ehlers popped up during my Law & Order SVU watch and I LOST MY MIND!!!!! Her face and voice instantly filled my soul with joy! So Harley gets the trophy. Even if she didn't have any stand out storylines during that era (apart from her and Gus being Very Hot), she was always my favorite character from GL.

Piper Halliwell (Charmed, original flavor) -- Technically, I had Turtle Wexler from the book The Westing Game on this list instead because I didn't remember Piper until after I'd drafted all ten slots :S But listen! That's because health problems have made my memory shitty! It is not because Piper doesn't stand up to the test of time! Ugh, I remember the show never treated Piper like she was the fan favorite and I hadn't discovered online TV forums yet so I felt so alone in my love for her :( But being on lesbian millennial Tumblr makes 14 year old me feel SO validated, because Piper is the only Halliwell sister anyone ever talks about on my dash. 💜 Congrats everyone. We were right all along.

Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls) -- Yeeeaaah.. we've hit the Big Three that I alluded to earlier. I was very, very gay for Lorelai (and Lauren Graham) in the latter half of my high school years, and I did not realize that until way later. She taught me how to be quicker with the comebacks and, more importantly, to marry someone who could cook instead of learning how to feed yourself. And I really took that to heart. My spouse is a fantastic cook! :) (Don't get scared for me guys! I do actually know how to cook three (3) entire meals now that I'm in my 30s :P lol)

Rose Tyler/Billie Piper (Doctor Who) -- I will list the actress here, because my love for Rose Tyler is probably split 50/50 between the character herself, and Billie Piper's charisma and hotness. She's gorgeous!!! 😍 That seemingly common question in the mid-2000s of 'Who would you kiss if you were gay?' always left me stumped until New Who aired in the states. Then, I was finally able to answer 'Billie Piper' and actually mean it. Because that's what you were supposed to do with that question, right? Take it seriously and not treat it like hyperbole? #totallystraightbehavior #swearsies Alas, it would take me two more girl crushes and interacting with genuine queer women in a femslash fandom before I recognized my feelings for what they were. But Rose was still a very significant step forward!

Myka Bering (Warehouse 13) -- MY GIRL!!! My Lady of all Ladies. I would die for her. I would kill for her. I would kneel and raise my sword and swear fealty to her. MYKA FUCKING BERING, EVERYONE! 👏👏👏👏 Watching her fall in love with Helena made me realize all my girl crushes were real crushes and that I was bi. Bless her. Bless Joanne Kelly. And bless the incomparable Bering and Wells fandom. *kisses everyone on the mouth, sloppy style*

Erin Gilbert (Ghostbusters 2016) -- Look, I know that I can never get away with pretending that Erin isn't my favorite ghostbuster, but I do usually think about her in the context of her relationships! Like 8 times out of 10, when I'm headcanoning, I'm thinking about her and Abby's relationship. And if I'm not, there's a not-so-small chance I'm thinking about her relationship with Patty instead. (RIP to Holtzy who I virtually never think about outside of the foursome. Her fanbase just ruined it for me :S) But um... yeah, Erin's my favorite. I even have Pokemon parties picked out for them all. And their daemons.

Eve (Lucifer) -- Okay so I know it hasn't even been a full high school (aka 4 years) since I met Eve, so I can't really say she's someone I'll stay obsessed with forever and ever and ever. You probably don't even believe I'm obsessed with her at all given the bulk of my Lucifer talk is about Lucifer/Chloe -- but that's just cause that's where the storyline is! Trust me, Eve is my favorite character, even if she was in the least amount of episodes (RIP me). When she pops up in the background of a Deckerstar fanvid, I'm instantly distracted and have to marathon every Maze/Eve vid in my collection. I decided to use a fandom name in the first time, like, ever, when creating my Lucifer-specific Twitter account and I made it Eve themed. She's my favorite, bestest girl who can do no wrong and -- YES! -- that does include accidentally-definitely-on-purpose starting a demon mutiny that led to newborn Charlie's kidnapping. She had never been dumped before okay? First woman to ever exist and she'd never been dumped. Did you handle your first break-up well? No! I didn't think so :P

Alex Cabot (Law & Order: SVU) -- I've only know Cabot for four months, but if anything happens to her, I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself -- OH WAIT! She already left me. 😭 I am in S17 now, which is like ten seasons past when she went into witness protection and barely ever came back, yet there's not an episode that goes by where I don't think about her. So, I say that counts as longevity and am sticking her on the list. This woman has Issues. Plural. Period. She makes me say shit like 'I want to dig into her brain with a fork' and it's actually an accurate metaphor for what I feel. I love her your honor... now who can I sue for emotional damages?