#still learning stuff about this game after a decade of playing it

[leverage-ot3]

okay I absolutely get and adore harry being oblivious about ot3 developments, but consider:

after breanna makes it explicitly clear she’s queer in the card game job, harry starts Researching™

he’s trying to be good, be better. he likes this girl and wants to be there to support her and be her friend, someone she can trust. it doesn’t help that she’s around the same age as his daughter, who barely wants to associate with him anymore

he learns breanna is queer and dives into researching. watching TED talks in his spare time. reading ebooks on his phone in between playing roles in a con (bringing a physical book is less convenient and he doesn’t want to wave around the fact that he’s researching like he’s trying to be performative about it). he reads about legislation and book bans and wonders about how they could work their magic through a con to fix those things. he reads about asexuality and recognizes the flag colors from the sticker on breanna’s laptop, which he files away for later

he learns a lot! he has been peripherally aware of queer stuff- it’s kind of hard not to be in the 2020s, but now he is much more informed on a lot of issues. he has memorized at least 50 different labels and terms and has an index of resources in his head (and on his phone) if anyone might need them. he wants to understand the people he loves and cares about, whether it’s breanna or one of his daughter’s friends, or anyone in his life that is queer and he doesn’t know it yet. he wants to be ready and prepared to support them!

he learns about sapphicness and bisexuality and intersex rights and the gender spectrum. he learns about karyotypes and stonewall and other queer history. he learns about kink (blushing, but still reads because it’s important!) and relationship diversity… which leads him to discover the term polyamory

he tries not to actively apply the terms he has learned on the people in his life because he knows it’s wrong to assume things about other people. BUT. harry spends a few days reflecting on parker, hardison and eliot’s interactions and wonders. he thinks about the long hugs and lack of personal space and near telepathic communication not just between parker and hardison, but parker and eliot AND hardison and eliot. how parker knows how to make eliot take care of himself, how he knows when she forgets to eat because she’s so hyperfixated on planning a con. how parker jumps on his back for fun and no matter what, he always catches her. hardison’s absence is felt when he’s gone, deeply by the both of them.

it could just be a deep friendship, he knows. they have been working and living together for over a decade, of course they would be close!!! maybe they could even be queerplatonic! (another new word he learned!)

but. still. he quietly observes, watches closely, and thinks.

[artificial-transmutations]

Going Green

"Microtransactions!"

Charles looked around the board members.

"Micro. Transactions. Have you ever heard of that? Anyone?"

Slowly, heads nodded.

"Oh, good! So, you *have* heard of them. Does anyone care to explain to me then why our games barely have any? In fact, I have yet to see *any* microtransaction revenue from our latest release."

"But Sir, 'Orcs and Morcs' is a single player game - and not for a mobile platform, too. It doesn't even have an online connection. It would be highly unusual."

Charles M. Anderson cut the engineer up with a gesture. He didn't even know the other man's name, which wasn't too unusual. Even though he was the CEO of GreenGames for six months now, he didn't bother to learn his subordinates names until they proved useful. And this unnamed engineer could be happy if he still had a job after this meeting.

"I don't care about your techno-babble. Microtransactions is where the money is, so I want them in our products. *All* our products. And make sure to make them mandatory for any progress, too."

Charles usually talked about "Releases" and "Products". To him, video games were just a product like any other. Of course *he* didn't play any of those silly games, games were for children and losers. He only cared for the numbers, the graphs and revenues.

"What about the backlash? I mean, I understand that you want to generate more revenue, but GreenGames is known for providing high quality games that *don't* try to rip their customers off."

"So?"

"So, this could be bad publicity for us. Really bad."

Charles looked around the table and noticed most of the other board members nodding.

"Listen up, everyone. I think there is some misunderstanding here. You think that I care about our customers. I really don't, as long as they continue to buy our products. There is no such thing as bad publicity. So, I don't tell you how to draw your silly ogres and you don't try to meddle in the business aspect of the company, okay?"

Even though the inflection suggested a question, it was perfectly clear that it was neither a question nor a request. Again, heads nodded and tried to avoid eye contact. Good. Respect was very important for a leader.

One woman spoke up. Charles suspected her to be some lead writer or something.

"It's orcs, Sir."

Charles blinked. "What are you trying to say?"

"You said ogres, but our games are about orcs. That is our thing, we make games about orcs."

"There is no difference between orcs, ogres, unicorns and all that whimsy stuff. Leave me alone with your fantasy crap."

"But there is another thing. You are responsible for the story of our products?"

The woman agreed with a careful: "Yes, Sir?"

Charles looked her straight in the eye. "It has come to my attention that there are certain woke elements in our products. As a story writer, I expect you to take care of that."

"What... do you mean by woke? And by taking care of that?"

Charles sighed. Why was everyone so incompetent?

"Apparently, there is same-sex smut in our products, some even have pronouns. That crap needs to disappear asap. It is 'go woke go broke', after all."

The writer woman looked at Charles incredulously. "But Sir! Same-Sex romances are a well-accepted part of the industry for *decades* now. And it's not like the player has to engage in that, too. It's just an option - an option we actually received much praise for in the past. And about the pronouns... It's just a setting that influences some dialogues on how the player character is referred to. Again, it is perfectly possible to play as a straight green cis male if that's what you want to do."

Charles shook his head, his voice now dangerously low. "One more word of that, miss, and you can start looking for a new job. 84% of our customer base is male, and male customers want to see boobs, that's a fact. I won't tolerate wasting company resources on pacifying some noisy minority and alienating our main audience."

"But sir!" the writer woman objected.

Charles' look silenced her.

"One more word and you're out. We'll find another writer. Someone who does the job and keeps their mouth shut. This meeting is over. I expect results end of next week."

Nobody dared to speak up when everybody left the meeting room, and Charles returned to his office. What a productive meeting.

Just as he turned to his computer to check today's KPIs, he noticed a new email.

From: Employee Council

To: Charles M. Anderson

Subject: Going Green

Body:

Dear Mr. Anderson,

we here at GreenGames would like to take the opportunity to point out some concerns about your leadership role.

We have noticed a disturbing development since your takeover and would like to remind you of the values we stand for at GreenGames. We like creating games, and we identify with the work we do. Our players are important to us, and we strife to be open and accessible for everyone. Just like the protagonists in our games, we have honor and use our strengths to better the world. You in particular should be the living embodiment of this ideal. Please take this chance to re-think your methods and decisions and "go green" for real.

Sincerely,

The Employee Council.

Charles was outraged. How dared those subordinates criticizing him? He reached for his phone, ready to phone his secretary to find out who this "Employee Council" was but was interrupted by a ripping sound.

The right arm of his expensive suit jacket had ripped at the shoulder, which was unusual. He would have to have a stern talk with the tailor. Charles stood up and took off his jacket - or at least, he tried to. It was like the piece of clothing was way too small all of a sudden. He finally managed to get out of it, but only with several more rips in the fabric. Charles loosened his tie. He was sweating like mad, and when he looked down on himself, he was in utter disarray. His shirt looked like it was several numbers too small and as he was watching, one button after the other flew off with an audible "pling", exposing his torso underneath.

But was it really his torso? Not only was it *bigger*, it also looked way *hairier*. Charles had never been a man with much body hair, but now, he looked down on a stomach that was showing visible abs covered with a dense treasure trail of dark hairs. They continued upwards where they met with a true forest of curly dark hair that covered the slabs of pecs that were still growing as Charles watched.

He had to loosen his tie again before taking it off entirely. All of his clothes felt constricting, so, he peeled himself out of his shirt, too. His expensive watch was interrupting his growth painfully, but Charles was too occupied to notice, let alone care. With a dull cracking noise, the leather strap broke, and the watch flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall.

As Charles continued to grow, the chair underneath him creaked, but, again, he had other things to worry about. His lower body was still covered by his dress pants and shoes, but that was getting tight, too. His shoes especially were getting painful, and it was a relief when the front broke, exposing large muscular feet and toes. His pants were filled to the brim with heavy, muscled legs now, but there was another region where the capacity had been reached. His groin formed an obscene bulge. That alone would have probably fit - barely - but it was accompanied by an unusual feeling. Charles didn't *mind* his extreme change. In fact, the hyper masculine body turned him on, even. He watched as a dick print became clearly visible outlined against his groin, as his cock grew hard. It pulsed, once, and Charles felt a spurt of precum soak into his boxer shorts. A wet patch became apparent as the liquid seeped through his pants - all from a single spurt. His dick pulsed again, and Charles' head began to swim. The air in the room was thick with sweat and testosterone by now, and Charles groaned from arousal. Man, what would he give for a nice firm manly ass right now, giving him a lap dance.

Wait, what? Manly ass?

But it was true! Every time, Charles tried to think about sexy girls, but all that came to mind were men. Burly, hairy men, twinkish shaved men, green-skinned ogre-man. No, not ogres, he corrected himself. Orcs.

As he thought this word, his dick pulsed again and made Charles almost cry out from arousal. He couldn't restrain himself anymore. He *ripped* apart his dress pants and lowered his boxer shorts that looked like a pair of briefs on his massive body now, releasing a gigantic stiff rod and a matching set of heavy balls - along with a whole cloud of manly, musky smell that made Charles even hornier than before.

He closed his gigantic hand around his shaft and moved it up and down, in a slow, barely constrained motion. He had almost come by that one stroke, so horny was his mind. Fascinatedly, he watched as his cock and balls took on a deep, green color. It looked almost like a cucumber, or the penis of the incredible hulk. Or... an orc. As he moved his strong hand up and down again, the green started to spread in all directions.

Yes! There was no doubt: He was becoming a big, strong, sexy orc! Charles let all restraints fall away and started pumping in earnest now. With each stroke, the green spread, until his entire torso was of a rich green color. His head felt a pressure as his facial structure reformed, and his ears grew long and pointy. His hair lost darkened and grew out into a wild mohawk-like hairstyle. At the same time, a black beard sprouted around his entire jaw, underlining his masculinity.

Meanwhile, the green had swept across his arms and legs, quickly eliminating any leftover pink spots. The green color looked incredibly hot under the coat of dense, manly hair, and Charles felt himself getting closer. He grunted with each stroke like an animal and where his muscular green body touched the furniture or his executive chair, it left a film of manly sweat. Finally, he felt a short bit of pain on his ears and nipples, as small metal piercings appeared there: Short studs in his ears and small rings in his nipples.

That sent him over the edge. With a final bellow, he came, mightily. His large green balls contracted and his massive cock spew cum everywhere: All over his stomach, his chest, his furniture, even his face!

Charr panted in the afterglow of his orgasm. He was the epitome of virility and although he had just cummed all over his office, his mind kept creeping back to sexy guys again. He would be able to go again, soon - but that had to wait a bit. He used the remains of his suit to clean up a bit (although it was still clearly visible and smellable what happened here), stuffed his mighty tool into the cum-stained underwear and reached for the phone.

"Please send the board to my office, I want to issue an honorable apology, and announce our new strategy." He rumbled with his new, low voice. After a moment of consideration, he added: "And please send someone to install our games on my PC."

He rubbed his hands. This would usher in a whole new era for GreenGames - with the greenest possible CEO.

I have the feeling that a lot of companies could benefit greatly from a bit of a greener leadership!

[lettersofgold]

-> it’s nice to have a friend — jude bellingham  

genre: fluff | warnings: drinking

word count: 3.9K

it’s nice to have a friend by taylor swift

You weren’t superstitious but you never changed the wallpaper on your phone  -  it was of the two of you. It was a rare occurrence that you and Jude were sitting still, but when you weren’t, the two of you were joined at the hip. Jude was his dad’s shadow and you followed suit, always a few steps behind the Bellinghams. Your dad was one of the referees in the Sunday League Jude’s dad played in but, more importantly, a good friend of his so he didn’t mind the pitter-patter of an extra pair of feet following him as he warmed up. His wife thought it was nice for Jude to have someone his age to play with. It became customary to hear the two of you squealing and laughing. He found it adorable. It was hard to be upset when the two of you watched him like he was a hero. 

It's the same adorable thing that you found in the photo. You and Jude couldn't have been more than five, sitting side by side on the grass in ridiculously oversized football shirts. Jude’s hand was high in the air, waving to the camera with a megawatt smile, and you sat beside him, lips pursed, and eyebrows furrowed in, mimicking the smug look Jude’s dad gave when he scored a goal. Jude’s dad would discreetly find you in the crowd when you came to a match, and you always made the meanest mug at him that you could. It would take all he had not to laugh at your tiny scowl. As the years passed, you became a staple in the Sunday league games. Everyone knew you by name, happy to entertain you and Jude,  letting the two of you bounce around the field before matches. And when the matches started, you were with Jude, bundled up and watching intently.  Your dad would be busy running the show, and his dad would be busy being the show. Jude’s parents weren’t sure who took that sweet photo of the two of you. But they kept it for years.  At some point, Jude gave that photo to keep, as you always joked you needed something with proof that you were friends when he became a star. That didn’t change nearly a decade later. 

You couldn’t remember a time not being around football, and when your father retired, your family found themselves settled near the Bellinghams. Your entire elementary school experience was a blur, but the highlights of walking home with Jude were clear in your memory when you thought of your best days as a kid. The after-school walks were your favorite part of the day, even on the days when the cold made you feel like you were a walking popsicle. Jude always listened as you rambled on about all the things you learned and how you were excited to have finally been on the winning kickball team. 

“Shoot!” You murmured. 

“What?” Jude asked, watching you rummage through your backpack. 

“I lost my gloves,” you were freezing. Without a second thought, Jude offered one of his. 

And later that night, when his mom was fussing at him about not keeping his stuff organized and together, his response had her taken aback. He explained how cold you were and how he had given you his other glove so that you could make it home without being too cold. She smiled at her husband as she recounted the story, saying it was the cutest thing, how adorable the friendship had become. She kept an eye on the two of you, noticing how you two naturally gravitated to each other. It continued into the preteen years; the two of you played on the same kids league teams. Jude always had your back - he made a point of getting revenge on any player who tried to bash you because you were a few inches smaller. He always searched for you if the crowd became too big and always asked his mom if you could tag along to any post-game activity. When middle school came, the two of you saw each other a bit less. Jude had become fully engrossed in football  and you in your various sports. And still, you two rode home - the ride being you talking and Jude listening, nodding, hanging on to every word. 

“Wanna hang out?” Jude would ask when it finally came for the two of you to depart ways. The answer was always yes, there wasn't enough time in the world for you to hang out with Jude. He was your best friend, and you were his.

“Sure, sounds like fun. We can watch old matches,” you responded. His eyes beamed with pride as you sat on the living room floor, watching highlights of England’s matches. It was electrifying each time you watched. His mom had to be tired of hearing it. Still, she never said a word about the two of you rewinding the goals  - listening to the crowd's roar probably a hundred times and warning you not to knock over any decorations  that sat neatly atop the entertainment center as you mimicked the iconic celebrations. It got to the point where the night felt empty without the two of you replaying the match before your parents called you home. 

As the years passed on and you two found yourself in high school, seeing each other less and less, you found your friendship stayed vital to sitting up on the roof of your house watching the sunset. Through your awkward teenage years, Jude had been by your side. He was your shoulder to cry on when your first crush didn’t ask you out as you had hoped. He wrapped you in his arms and told you that it was all going to work out. And it did. Your crush was soon forgotten as you prepared to go to a college preparatory school across town.  You transferred schools over the summer and dove head-first into all the academic clubs that your schedule allowed. Your parents wanted you to focus on your academic career, and you wanted to go to university in the U.S. He was there for you when you failed your first test and reassured you that you would ace the next one - offering to let you study with him so you wouldn’t feel alone. They had high hopes for you and weren’t afraid to voice them. Jude, on the other hand, was all sports all year round, and when he wasn’t training, he was hanging around your house as you tried to make sense of it all. He was the person who could get you to slow down. He took you around town to get food at your favorite place before bringing you home to sit on the roof. Most of the time, you sat in silence, letting the bustle of the neighborhood fill the air as songs played out on Jude’s phone. 

“Twenty questions?” Jude always asked. It was his way of saying he needed to talk. The sky swirled with pink, and the air had grown chilly. The coolness of the air had you pressed against Jude’s side, leaning in a bit closer to tease him about his vague answers. He had a habit of talking but saying nothing at all. 

“Gonna tell the truth?” You laughed, and he followed as he bumped your shoulder. And he did tell the truth. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, unsure of where to go next, and most of all, he missed having you in his classes. He missed being able to laugh with you in the hallway or the stolen looks when the teacher made a ridiculous comment. The thought of him missing you made you blush, but you didn’t overthink it; he was your best friend. Jude’s athletic abilities were becoming more evident to his dad, his coach, and even to the scouts that were coming to see him play soon. It was the most Jude had said to you in months. He usually kept his cool, but you could see the burden all over his face. The air of coolness that Jude had vanished as he spoke to you - telling you about all the academies that were sending him letters, telling him that their training ground was the best place for him to be. He wasn’t sure football would be his whole life, but everyone had seen it clearly before he did. It was making him doubt what path was the best to take. 

“Been so stressed out…” He sighed, laying his hooded head on your shoulder. 

“It’s okay, me too. You aren’t alone in this,” you assured. 

You unwrapped your arms from your knees, and as soon as your hand was free, Jude snaked his long fingers between yours. And the warmth of his hand rushed through your whole body. As the next song filled the air, you felt yourself pulling him closer - reminiscing of him holding your hand and pulling you through the football field. You were also confident he knew where he was going and would never steer you wrong. That feeling flooded you as you held his hand in yours. You were convinced that despite what was coming, he had your back.  Birthdays and boyfriends came and went. ACTs and SATs filled your summer, while football filled his. You were focused on getting a scholarship to get to your dream college. But monthly dinners with the Bellinghams stayed the same. Up on the roof with Jude, you laughed and dreamed of all the things you could be. Up on the rooftop was where he decided what team he would play football at - hundreds of miles from where you would go to school in the United States. The number of tears you cried on graduation day would have been embarrassing if it wasn't for Jude squeezing your hand and reassuring you that things would be okay, slinging an arm around your neck, and pulling you close just as he always did. And things were more than okay - despite being miles away, you two grew closer than ever before. 

He watched with care as you blossomed in college, smiling at each set of photos you texted him, laughing at the voice memos you sent ranting about the assignments you had due or the parking tickets you somehow accumulated while being in lecture. He always answered the phone when you called, loving to see you bundled up in a hoodie in the library, constantly reminding you to text him when you made it back to your dorm safely. You frequently texted him blurry photos of your TV whenever he appeared during matches - for a while, you lovingly referred to him as a gum guy; you never saw him without a piece of gum. He was there for each Facetime call during your drunken nights in an Uber back to your place, listening to you ramble on and on about whatever guy you had been seeing. None of them measured up to you, he always told you that, but he never made you feel bad. Just warned you to be careful. 

No matter how careful you were, you fell for a guy sophomore year, and he unquestionably broke your heart. To Jude, the details didn’t matter - the douche was not worth the details. He wanted more than anything to do what he always did, which was to wrap his arms around you and remind you that things would be fine.  He had never felt so helpless. He reached out to Trent. A guy on the national team he trusted to give him advice. Trent was stunned when Jude laid it all out to him. 

“This sounds like a movie, like a cliche movie,” Trent laughed. Jude chuckled, but he still felt uneasy. 

“She’s my best friend, and uh, yeah, this guy broke her heart,” Jude mumbled. 

“Just remind her of who she is, man. She sounds like she’s got her head on straight. Heartbreak will have you feeling like everything you’ve ever known was a lie. If you stay in her corner - everything will be fine.”  Jude nodded, taking it all in. Before he got up to give you a call to check in on you, Trent grabbed his arm and gave him advice that left him reeling. “And if you love her, you should tell her.”

Jude took the advice tenfold and was fully invested in your friendship. But could never bring himself to utter those dangerous three words. He helped you make sense of all your internship prospects,  pretending to be an interviewer when you needed to practice or letting you recite your speech to him repeatedly, even after matches, even when he was tired and needed to be up in the morning for a flight. He gave you morning pep talks for your finals and voice memos, telling you that no one was more fit for the internship you were applying for. 

“I wish you could come to El Clasico. It's going to be insane,” he admitted late one night. But it was selfish of him to believe that it could work out. You had far more on your plate than he did. You were halfway across the world, days away from starting an internship while balancing classes. 

“I do, too,” you mumbled, trying to hide the smile that dared to spread across your face. 

When you made it to Lluis Companys Olympic Stadium., you called Jude’s dad so many times you were sure he would be annoyed when he figured out where you were in the stadium. You managed to get lost, and trying to avoid being spotted by Jude didn’t help, but when you heard his voice booming through the suite halls, everything felt normal. You felt five years old all over again.

“Let me get a look at ya, c’mere girl!” His dad had engulfed you in a hug before you could even take a proper look at him. He grabbed you by the shoulders and eyed you carefully. A smile reached his eyes, and you felt tiny under his gaze. He was always an authoritative figure, a second dad - you were hoping he was proud of all that you had done. 

“It’s like looking at your mother, a spitting image. ” He laughed. 

“She says hi. So does my dad. He said he’s starting to forgive Jude for choosing Real, kinda.”  That comment earned a hearty laugh from Peter. He urged you to follow, turning to say his two cents about your dad. 

“Jude could play for anyone, and your dad would be unhappy. He just loves Liverpool so much.” This was true. You and Jude were like two peas in a pod, and his dad and your dad were the same. Your family was his family. You guys always had each other's backs. Nestled in a suite with his family while watching Jude play in El Clasico was surreal. When Jude scored, the crowd celebrated with him. You were sure your voice would be gone by the end of the match if tears didn’t come first. 

After the game, walking through the stadium took your breath away and put into perspective how far Jude had come in such a short time. You found yourself in awe of the field: it still elicited the goosebumps you had as a child, knowing that your best friend had his dreams realized. You looked to his dad for confirmation that you could hop onto the pitch. He gave you a thumbs up as he called Jude to see how long he would be. You had purposely ignored his messages the past two days, and you were sure he was panicking a bit. You made sure to flash your pass to security before entering the pitch. You spun around slowly, taking in all the seats that people slowly left - you remembered the last match you ever watched in person. It was with Jude and his, going to watch Birmingham play before he signed for them. Seeing nearly 56,000 people cheering on Jude today made a lump in your throat, and you willed yourself not to cry. It was a difficult task. 

“I know you're going to celebrate, but hurry. I just need to talk to you," His dad said through his phone. Jude had no clue. 

When he walked to the pitch, he almost didn’t notice - his head was in his phone, and ironically, texting you, asking if you were okay.  

“So what’s a girl gotta do to get a free jersey?” You teased, crossing your arms and giving a faux-angry look.

That hearty laugh and boyish smile sent you a feeling through your stomach you knew all too well: it was him all along. He nearly trampled you, running up to hug you. His laugh echoed through the area as he spoke.

“I can’t believe you! How did you find the time for this? You start an internship  in a few days?”

“I always have time for you, Jude. I couldn’t miss a match as amazing as this,” You paused, realizing how that had sounded as soon as it left your mouth. “I mean El Clasico? This was the best match I’ve ever seen. ” You pivoted, trying to make light of it all. You two talked about how you hid your travel plans and were helped by his dad. He was stunned but eager to show you around, replaying all the little things that happened on the pitch. 

After the ensuing celebrations, you sat on the bed in your suite. Jude, who was just as tipsy as you, insisted he return with you in your hotel room and even declined the post-match club hop from his friends. The two of you found a nice restaurant and changed into more formal clothes. You sat, laughed, talked, and ate the most delicious food until the waitress informed you that the restaurant was closing. The two of you walked hand in hand back to your hotel room until you felt like your feet could no longer handle the arch of your heels. Hopping on Jude’s back seemed silly, but he insisted. With your arms loosely around his shoulders and legs crossed against his abdomen, his hands on your bare skin made you stir crazy. You didn’t realize how touch-starved you were, how much Jude’s touch made you feel at ease, or how you wanted more. The jersey he got you sat on your lap, and you traced his gold number gingerly, unable to believe all that had happened over the years. Jude was changing in the bathroom, his voice deep as he talked about the match. He peaked around the corner, taking you in, and you smiled in return. You weren’t quite ready to end the night despite the tiredness you felt in your bones; the feeling of your bed was tempting. 

“Want another drink?” You called out to Jude, moving over to the mini bar. 

“I never say no to a drink,” he mumbled, walking up behind you. 

By the time you finished making the pair of cocktails, you had to abandon your heels - grabbing Jude’s hand to steady yourself. The release of the pressure caused you to moan, and you chose to ignore Jude, clearing his throat and stepping away from you.

Curled up against the headboard and drink in hand, you listened to Jude talk about how his favorite moments that led him here. Being this close to him made you appreciate the strength of your friendship. You would never be able to adequately explain how proud you were of him, how much you adored him. The crinkle of his eyes as he laughed and his boyish smile all brought on a set of feelings that made you realize how you loved him. You were staring at his at this point, no doubt. But you didn’t care. These moments were few and far between, and with adult life coming soon, you knew this would be just a memory one day.  Jude turned to you, scanning your face before finding your eyes. Jude had kept an eye on you all night. It was hard to put his focus on anything else. Watching you interact with his friends, his teammates, and his dad - who dragged you around as if you were his daughter - only solidified how much he wanted you to continue to be in his life, how he wanted to put you first, how he wanted to show you off as his, without having to explain that you were just friends. Of course, he loved you as a friend. It was nice to have a friend, but god, he wanted you so much more than that. 

“I couldn’t have done this without you, ya know.�� He admitted. You chuckled lightly and failed at resisting the eye roll. 

“Your drunk, babe,” you muttered sarcastically. 

You noticed how much he immediately broke eye contact after you called him babe, and you wondered if you had made a mistake until he continued. 

“Uh, no, uh, I mean it. You have always had my back.” 

“And you’ve always had mine. It’s what we do, Jude.” 

“I know. I just mean there are very few people in this world who would fully understand what my life has been like. You call my bluff and don’t care about the fame. With all the pressure, you reminded me it’s all worth it. You reminded me this is what we always dreamed of.”

You took the rest of your cocktail to the head, and Jude put the glass on the side table, moving closer to you. 

“And when I think of the things I’ve wanted, you’ve always been in that picture. Along with all the stress that this life brings, you’ve been the one who hasn’t blinked twice about the difficulty of it all.” He admitted. 

“Jude-” was all you could dumbly say. You knew what he meant. You knew, and you felt it, but you could not voice it. But you felt compelled to be closer to him, cupping a hand behind his neck before sitting on your calves in front of him. You searched his eyes for a moment, and you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach. Mixed with the liquor, that feeling made you want more than simply being his best friend. It made you want to show him how much you adored him. You don’t know how long you sat in front of him, but when he finally connected his lips to yours, you were thankful that you weren’t standing. The taste of him was more than you had ever hoped; kissing him felt like you had found a missing piece of your heart. That piece you had looked for in every man before. His lips were so soft against yours, and his kiss was so slow you found yourself unable to fathom how you had gone your whole life without it. You wrapped your hands around his neck with a tighter grip, your thumb tracing up his Adam's apple slowly, softly. You had touched him so many times, but this time was different. It wasn’t with roughness or playfulness, now, it was gentle and eager. He pulled you into his lap, and for a moment, you thought he would pull away for air, but he didn’t, simply wrapping an arm around your waist. The passion behind his touch was evident, and when he finally pulled away, you were out of breath. 

“Jude, I’m only here for two days-”

“Doesn’t matter. We can stay in bed for the whole weekend, and I don’t care. You feel like home to me, and I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

tags: @fallinforerling @808heartz

[l0v3tast3]

Heyyyy 🤭I really love your young! reader stuff they're what i actually need! Can i ask for a one with the 141 boys but instead of the reader being someone they work with she's a rescued hostage who had to be with them for a good while 🤭🤎🤎?

✎ first of all omg thank youuuu ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ second of all yes i love this idea !!

✎ tags: young reader, non-military reader, gender neutral reader i'm pretty sure, some violence and trauma, smoking, mostly fluff, not proofread im too cool for that as usual

♡ kyle finds you huddled in a corner curled into a tight ball during a firefight. he's frantic and a bit rough with you (to be fair, there are bullets flying pretty much everywhere) as he practically drags you with him to the team's rendezvous spot. except, once you both get there, he kind of realizes he doesn't know what to do with you, and you don't either.

♡ price is about to start yelling at kyle when he takes one look at you, terrified and practically clutching onto your rescuer, and backs down. he mumbles that they'll take you back with them and see that you're taken care of. simon and john don't say anything, just sharing a look between each other, both wondering how this would go.

♡ the safehouse is cramped, a small cabin tucked between cliffs in a dense forest. one rough path led for miles before it came to a better road. simply put, you were all going to be stranded there for a few weeks before they could get a pinpoint on your location and to retrieve the team. so, you all got to know each other.

♡ it takes you a fitful night's sleep (still close to kyle) and a quickly eaten can of condensed soup to start talking again. price coaxes your name out of you, and he smiles when you tell him quietly. despite his initial reaction everyone can see how quickly he warms up to you. ghost takes a little longer than price and john, but joins in on your card games with the other three soon enough (he waits until you've actually learned how to play the games to spare his patience).

♡ you tell them about who you were and they learn who you are over the worn card deck and more canned food. it takes you a little longer to talk about your hometown before it crumbled beneath lead, and longer still to talk about your family. they don't push you for it, and kyle sits with you and holds your hand when he finds you outside crying. price warns the younger man to not let you both get too close to each other, but it's hard to social distance in the tiny safehouse.

♡ it takes a couple weeks but you surprise them when you stop getting anxious when kyle leaves your side, and you stop looking out the window every few minutes when he leaves the cabin. price and john are hopeful while simon stays skeptical that the separation once you all get back to the base will be easy (on any of you, really).

♡ laswell manages to send out a helicopter to land in a clearing in the forest not far from the safehouse after three and a half weeks. your grip on kyle's hand is white-knuckled the entire time you're in the air. when you're all on solid ground again, the other three men walk ahead of you while kyle urges you further onto the airfield of the base.

♡ price and simon go off on their own while john joins kyle and you in heading towards the doctors on base. they explain everything you pass as you pass it, what's behind that door and who those people are and what's down that hallway. you keep a hold on kyle's hand the entire time.

♡ you finally separate from him when you're sitting on one of the beds in the doctor's office, a nice woman about a decade older than you talking to kyle and john in the hallway while you look around anxiously. after spending nearly four weeks surrounded by the 141 task force, you feel exposed and unprotected now, ironically.

♡ kyle comes back into the room by himself first to tell you how the doctor was going to talk to you and look over you for a little while until they can find you a new home. the hug you give each other is tight on both ends, and it takes a few moments for either of you to let go. john comes in to give you a short pep talk and ruffles your hair. he tells you you're stronger than half of the people here and gives you a pat on the back that lurches you forward slightly before the two men leave.

♡ the doctor can see pretty easily that you've become attached to kyle (and the other three, but more so the youngest). so before anything else, she works with you for hours over cups of tea and coffee and vending machine snacks to both establish what she's working with and to help convince you that you were safe here and safe without them by your side.

♡ it takes a couple of weeks for you to stop looking over your shoulder everywhere you went. people were nice to you when they weren't avoiding you; they treated you almost like a new animal, unsure of how you would react to anything (price had had a "word" with the recruits, basically saying if they did anything to you, it wouldn't be pretty for them). you still managed to make some new friends of some of the recruits. it spreads through base pretty quickly that people like you, and having the favor of the 141 task force certainly helps.

♡ it's still a huge adjustment for you to be without kyle and the other three men. you don't sleep for three days before they finally have to sedate you to make the dark circles under your eyes back off. you're jumpy and avoidant for a while, unsettled by the long hallways and the marching of boots everywhere you went. when you stray too close to where the recruits trained and hear barrages of gunfire going off, they find you hours later huddled in a closet behind a makeshift wall of cleaning supplies.

♡ the doctor works with you through all of it, and surprisingly still, you make good progress rather quickly. they thought it would take months for you to return yourself to a sense of normalcy, but within a few weeks you know the base layout and walk more confidently through it.

♡ the 141 men visit you when they can. kyle most of all, he finds whatever time he can to hang around you. he worries that his presence might not help you, but after a few weeks you're no longer reaching for him to cling to him whenever he's around. instead, you make him little gifts of cards out of printer paper or wood carvings that look a little wobbly but are still cute nonetheless.

♡ john and price still come around to play card games with you every few nights, and sometimes simon joins them. you don't see much of the ghost, but when he's around he sits next to you and helps you under the table to beat price.

♡ simon catches you alone trying to get a bag of chips unstuck from a vending machine in the middle of the night and helps you get it out (he nearly tips the whole thing over shaking it). he doesn't say much to you, but the hand lingering on your shoulder says enough, and you give him a hug and a quiet "thank you" for more than just the chips before being on your way.

♡ you stay on the base for a few more months. somehow john starts teaching you the basics of how to fight and defend yourself after everyone else has gone back inside for the evening. he says you're like a baby deer trying to learn how to walk with three legs at first, but you eventually start to be able to throw decent punches and keep your footing steady.

♡ at some point, you start venturing into the world off-base (chaperoned, of course). usually it's someone you don't really know very well going with you, but a few times kyle or john come with you. kyle goes with you shopping, being pulled along through the isles of shirts and pants and all kinds of accessories that your hometown's few stores never carried. he humors you when you take hours finding and trying on all types of outfits, and he puts up with your whining when he drags you out.

♡ john tries to take you to a bar to "socialize", as he deems it, but when he sees how anxious you are and how the loud bass of the constant music makes you jump every few seconds, he takes you on a walk along a quiet river. you both sit on a bridge for awhile, watching boats go past in the bay ahead of you and just talking about whatever crosses your mind. you tell him eventually that the doctors think you should be able to leave the base within the next few weeks.

♡ price keeps up your "training" with you. he teaches you plenty of different ways to take people down, which you figure you'll probably never have to actually use, but you like the time spent together. he gives you unsolicited fatherly advice a lot, and besides self-defense, he teaches you a lot of other practical things. you find yourself able to semi-reliably diagnose car problems and knowing the basics of how and when and where to go fishing.

♡ simon and you spend the least amount of time together out of the four men, but when you do, it's nice and peaceful. you find him outside smoking sometimes and stand beside him. once, he offers you a cigarette and you try it, only for him to laugh and take it from you when you cough up a lung. he finds you smuggling candy bars and other contraband to recruits and helps you figure out good places to hide your stashes.

♡ a few days before you're sent to your new apartment outside of the base, the team decides to throw a "little" party for you. kyle finds you in your room and tells you to follow him but refuses to answer your questions of why and where you're going. once you're closer to their common area, he makes you close your eyes and steers you forward.

♡ you hear scrambled movements and hushed whispers and when you open your eyes, everyone yells "surprise!" and starts coming up to hug you and congratulate you on your progress. there's colorful balloons and cheap party hats and streamers peppering the area, store-bought cookies and snacks and a cake in your favorite flavor with the word "CONGRATULATIONS!" written on it in icing all sitting on a table, along with plenty of alcohol. there's even a banner hung up on the wall above the way into the little kitchen (it's a "happy birthday" banner, john says it's all they had left at the store, it still makes you smile).

♡ the four 141 men are there, laswell, and some of your closer friends you made with the recruits, and a couple of nurses you had also befriended. the recruits and nurses get you gifts, a couple of plants, some cookware, mostly housewarming presents to take with you. laswell hands you a small well-wrapped box and card (she tells you her wife wrapped it for her), and when you open it, there's cash and a beautiful pocket knife for you to keep.

♡ after a few hours, people start filing out, bidding you goodbye and their best wishes. once it's you and the 141 men left, all slightly buzzed sitting around more cards, they pull out their gifts to you. price gifts you a box of expensive cigars (he says that if you don't smoke them you can still show them off), john gives you a poster of a movie you both had watched together and loved. simon gives you a hand-carved wooden figure of an animal you had once told him you'd had as a kid. kyle gives you a pin that you had pointed out at a store once, saying it looked just like the one your mother had always worn for formal occasions. you're already basically in tears when they hand you a list of their contact info for when you leave, then you're fully crying.

♡ the day you leave, they all escort you to the car that will take you there. they insist on carrying all your luggage to the car, not that there's much of it. you cry again, hugging them all tight. you'd said your goodbyes to them individually already, but now you were really leaving. john is clearly holding back tears and price keeps clearing his throat as if it were tightening with his own emotions. simon doesn't cry, but he hugs you extra tight. kyle hugs you last, telling you to not get into anymore trouble, to call them if you ever need anything, so on and so forth. he's the last to leave the sidewalk while they all watch the car drive away.

♡ as it turns out, the apartment they placed you in (a small one bed, one bath, but still nicer than your house before all this) is a reasonable drive from where price lives. he makes time for you whenever he can, and kyle often tags along. all four men and you meet up every couple of weeks for a daytrip in the area. somehow, you even end up bringing the four men closer to each other, too.

♡ they help you move new furniture in (with lots of cursing, but still happy to help you) and "oo" and "aa" over all the new decorations and pieces you get for around the place. they visit you at your new job after you get settled into it. you even stay friends with some of the recruits from the base, sending letters and visiting every couple of months when they're allowed.

♡ the new change is huge, but with their help, you become a full member of society once again. the team watches out for you, as always. they come to see you as part of the team itself, even if you aren't actually part of the military.

[exhuastedpigeon]

WIP Wednesday

No one look at me. I woke up at 5am with an idea that made me not hate my Buddie baseball AU and now I'm 1.5k deep into the new approach.

And yes, y'all are about to learn that I'm a giant baseball nerd. The kind of nerd who, when I lived close enough to my team, had season tickets. There are 81 home games and from 2017-2019 I only missed 10 home games. I missed those games to travel around watching minor league baseball. The kind of nerd who hand tracked stats as a kid because it was fun for me.

This is all just a warning because this fic is might get a little inside baseball about... baseball...

Pitchers were weird, that’s just a fact of life that baseball players learn young. Sometimes they need a little special attention, sometimes they need to be left alone the day of a game, and sometimes they need a very specific Gatorade only made in Korea.  In his two two years with the Dodgers, Eddie had seen his fair share of pitchers doing stuff that anyone else would think is weird before their start days, but because they’re pitchers it’s just accepted. Most of the guys in the clubhouse just ignore it, but Eddie, as the starting catcher, doesn't get that luxury.  Bobby Nash always prays a decade of his rosary before a start. After their first game together, Eddie had started praying with him to get them in the same headspace. So between batting practice and first pitch Eddie and Bobby sit in front of Bobby’s locker, heads bowed together, and pray quietly.  Chimney Han insists that watching a supercut of all of the Wild Thing scenes from Major League got him in the zone. Eddie’s pretty sure he could recite the compilation from memory by now because he’d watched it so many times with Chim. Before every one of Chim’s starts Eddie finds him in the little lounge area with his iPad and they watch a very young Charlie Sheen.  Albert Han, younger half-brother of Chimney, is the one who insisted on the Korean Gatorade. Eddie didn’t drink it with him, instead he had his own pre-game snack and water while they discussed the line up again to keep fresh. Albert is probably the most well adjusted pitcher Eddie’s played with in the big leagues, but the bar is low so it’s not saying much.  Ravi Panikkar got his first call up last year and Eddie quickly learned that Ravi needed a gentle hand. After his first few starts Ravi started to open up and apparently his thing before games was checking the real estate market, something about needing a back-up plan if baseball didn’t work out. Eddie would have made fun of him after the game, but it worked for him so Eddie didn’t say shit. Eddie liked to think he was used to pitchers and their idiosyncrasies after a basically lifetime of playing baseball and six years playing professionally, but he still wasn’t used to Evan Buckley. There wasn’t much Buck could do that would surprise Eddie, which was why Eddie only needed to gesture for Buck to come into his hotel room when he knocked on his door at 6am the first day the full team was set to report to Spring Training. It was still early enough that the air had  a bit of a bite to it, but Eddie knew better than to be fooled by an Arizona morning.   “Morning Buck,” Eddie rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of it. Buck hadn’t woken him up, but he had gotten Eddie out of bed, which was just as bad in Eddie’s opinion. They didn’t have to report until noon today to give the position players time to get their shit in order since pitchers and catchers had already been at camp for at least a week - or two weeks in Eddie’s case. 

Tagged by @cal-daisies-and-briars @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @tizniz @wildlife4life @diazsdimples

no pressure tagging @monsterrae1 @rosieposiepuddingnpie @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @acountrygirlsfun @actualalligator @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @puppyboybuckley @thekristen999 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @eddiebabygirldiaz @buddierights @honestlydarkprincess @epicbuddieficrecs @steadfastsaturnsrings @underwater-ninja-13 @rainbow-nerdss @911-on-abc @devirnis @daffi-990 @loserdiaz and anyone else who wants to share!

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 12

Synopsis: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, angst, cancer, alcohol, mentions of death, fertility and pregnancy discussions, surrogacy

WC: 4.6K

Chapter summary: Reid confines in Phoenix about intimacy issues after Bob learns about her diagnosis; Bob and Reid discuss their future and how kids will play into that; Hangman tries to apologize for being an asshole

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

You had told Bob you didn’t want things to change. He tried his hardest to take that to heart. 

You moved back in and that first night sleeping in Bob’s arms again felt like coming home to your own bed after a six-month backpacking trip. 

The issue was that you wanted him. You craved his touch. And Bob still touched you like you were a porcelain doll, ready to break. 

Before, you barely had to trace your fingers over his chest before he was pulling your panties down with his deft fingers, working himself inside of you, trapping your moans with his mouth. 

Now, you’d roll over, press yourself against him, and he would lay his lips gently on your forehead, trying to ease you back to sleep. 

After a week, you got sick of it. 

“He won’t even touch me,” you complained to Phoenix, taking a sip of your iced tea. 

She looked over to her right, toward the inside of the house where the rest of the guys were gathered. The two of you were sitting under the shade of a tree out at the edge of the small fenced-in yard, drinking iced tea and lounging on soft fold out chairs, the kind that parents bring to little league games. 

“He treats me like I’m going to break.” 

“He’s scared,” she said, sliding her sunglasses up onto the top of her head. “You’re the love of his life, Reid. You’re the one thing that means the world to him. And he’s grappling with the fact that he might lose you. He doesn’t want to ruin it.” 

You let out a sigh. “That’s the thing. We only have so much time. And I want him, so much.” 

“I’ll talk to him.” 

You reached out and grabbed her hand. “Really? Thank you!” 

She smiled. “Never thought I’d have to talk Floyd into fucking you. Talking him out of fucking you? That I can do. This wasn’t in the Navy handbook.” 

You laughed, settling back against the soft fabric of the chair. In the distance you watched as Jake and Bradley argued over how to properly grill the steaks. 

Phoenix turned to you after a moment. “Have you guys talked about what happens next?” she asked softly. 

“No.” Your eyes were trained on Bob as he bent down, adding another case of beer to the cooler next to the sliding door. “I’m just not ready. Neither is he.” 

“I get that,” Phoenix said. “But Reid, you have to. Sooner, rather than later. It’s going to ruin him. He should at least know how you want things to go down after you’re gone.” 

“Like what?” 

“The funeral. Your stuff.” She let out a breath. “How soon you’d want him to move on.” 

You turned to her. “He gets to mourn me as long as he wants. If that’s two days or twenty years. I’m not going to put a cap on it.” 

She nodded. “I know. But if you let him, he’ll never look at another woman ever again. He’ll live by himself forever, as a hermit. Is that what you really want for him?” 

You turned back to Bob. He stood and wiped his hands on his jeans before looking over at the two of you. You raised your hand in a wave and he smiled back. The sudden urge to run to him and toss your arms around his neck was overwhelming. But you knew that if you did he would be worried. About you running. About all of it. 

“Reid?” Phoenix’s voice shook you from your daydream. 

“He should move on,” you whispered. “I need him to be happy. He deserves that. He deserves better than this.” 

She grabbed your hand. The two of you sat there, holding hands, in silence. Until the sun started to set softly over the roof of the house and Bradley called you inside for dinner. 

Later that night, you watched Phoenix pull Bob aside. His eyes darted to where you were sitting on the patio, a glass of wine in hand, and you knew exactly what she was saying to him. 

“Want some company?” 

You looked up. Bradley stood with a beer in one hand, a smile beneath his mustache. You nodded enthusiastically. “Please.” 

He took a seat next to you on the large bench. Despite everything that had happened, Bradley was a comforting presence. You realized the two of you were always destined to be better friends than lovers. 

Sometimes it works out like that. 

“Couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.” Bradley tipped his head to where Bob and Phoenix were still in deep discussion. 

You blushed. “Oh, Jesus.” 

He chuckled. “For what it’s worth, I get where he’s coming from.” Bradley squeezed your thigh gently with his hand, closer to your knee, in a friendly way. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course.”

“If we were still together, would you be like that?” you asked. “Would you be afraid that you’d break me?” 

“Probably not,” Bradley said. “But he loves you more than anybody else ever could.” You looked up at him. He set down his beer on the brick patio. “He loves you with his whole heart. I think he’s worried that any move he makes is going to take minutes, days, off of your time together. He’s so scared that he’s going to mess things up. And he’s never had to deal with death like this before. Not something drawn out. He doesn’t know how to handle it.” 

You squinted at him. There was something calm in his demeanor. Familiar in a way. “Have you? Dealt with this before.” 

Bradley nodded. “My mom. She died of cancer when I was twenty.” 

“Oh.” You reached out, taking his hand into yours and squeezing it. “I’m so sorry, Brad.” 

He shook his head. “Thank you. It’s been a while, it gets easier. But I know firsthand how he feels.” Bradley looked up at Bob. “He’s watching his whole world fall apart.” 

“This is why I didn’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “I wanted it to be normal. For a while. For as long as possible. I didn’t want people to treat me like a patient.” 

Bradley squeezed your hand. “Tell you what. If we’re ever doing that and it’s bothering you, tell me. I’ll make everyone stop.” 

You chuckled. “You promise?” 

“For you?” he whispered. “Anything.” 

You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes softly, your hands still intertwined between your two bodies. 

***

“I’m going to take a sabbatical,” Bob said as he rinsed a few tomatoes in the sink, turning around and patting them dry with a well-loved dish towel that you had sent him from Turkey five years prior. 

You frowned. “What? You can’t do that.” 

He nodded. “They have special permissions. This is one of them.” 

“How?” 

He shrugged. “I said you were my domestic partner.” 

“Oh, Bobby.” 

You got up, winding your arms around his waist. He set the tomatoes down gently, cradling your head softly. “I want to be here,” he whispered. “I can’t risk getting shipped off for who knows how long. I won’t risk it. If I have to quit I will. Whatever it takes.” 

You pressed your face against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. Spicy oranges and jet fuel. After a moment, you leaned back, wrapping one hand around his neck, tugging his lips down to yours. You let your lips graze over his softly, gently. 

“Sunny,” he murmured, pulling back. 

“Please,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Please. I need you. All of you. I’m not a doll that you might break. I’m the same me as I was two weeks ago when you fucked me on the halllway floor.” 

The tips of Bob’s ears went pink. 

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you whispered and a groan bubbled from Bob’s throat as he leaned down, pressing his lips back against yours, his hands soft where he cradled your head, his other hand against the small of your back, creating a barrier between your back and the kitchen counter. “Take me to bed,” you murmured and in one swift motion Bob pulled you into his arms, floating down the hallway into the bedroom, setting you down gently. 

You let him pull off your sundress and watched his eyes widen when he saw you weren’t wearing any underwear or a bra. You spread your legs wide and Bob kneeled on the bed, pressing his face between your legs, one hand gripping your hip softly, his tongue licking a thick stripe through your folds toward your clit as you trembled on the mattress. 

“Oh!” 

Bob grabbed both sides of your hips with his hands, pushing his face closer into your wet cunt, his nose brushing across your clit as his tongue prodded your entrance. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly, tugging him closer, and Bob started to swirl his tongue across your folds, doing figure eights over your swollen clit as you moaned. 

“Bobby, fuck, yes, right there!” 

He grunted as you came all over his face, your arousal coating his lips as he pulled back, one of your legs shaking from the force of the orgasm. Bob smoothed his palm over your thigh softly, shifting on top of you. Your fingers grabbed at his shirt, pulling it over his head, before pushing at the waistband of his shorts. He kicked them off carefully, his hard cock landing on your thigh and you gasped as it brushed over your wet folds. 

“Want you so badly,” you murmured, sealing your mouth over his. Bob reached down, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds, spreading your juices over his length as he pumped himself, the tip of his cock hitting you repeatedly as he did so, causing you to groan. 

“Honey,” he whispered into your neck. “Fuck, so needy for me.” 

Your fingers tightened around his biceps. “Please, Bobby, please fuck me.” 

His blue eyes met yours. “I will, baby. Let me get a condom.” 

You shook your head. “It’s just us, right? Nobody else?” 

Bob removed his hand from his cock, looking at you long and hard. He nodded. “Sunny, from day one it’s always only been you. The minute you said you were mine, there was no one else.” 

“Then I want to feel you,” you whispered. “All of you. I never want anything to stand between us again.” 

He nodded, reaching down and sliding the tip of his cock into your entrance, punching a moan out of your mouth. You buried your face into Bob’s shoulder, eyes pinched shut, as the force of his cock splitting you in half took over. “Oh, fuck,” Bob growled against you. Your walls were clenched around him, so tight and warm and he had never felt anything that felt one tenth as good as you did. “Gotta relax, darlin’. It’s too tight.” 

“Sorry,” you whispered, letting out a breath, trying to relax. 

Bob leaned down, brushing hair out of your eyes, locking his lips gently on yours. You focused on the warmth of his kiss as he slowly worked his hard cock inside of you, spreading your legs wider, stretching you to your fullest point. When he was all the way in, he broke the kiss with a loud groan. “Oh, my God,” Bob whimpered. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in tighter. “Feel so full,” you moaned, locking your legs over his waist. “Holy shit.” 

Bob rocked his hips slowly forward, pressing himself deeper before pulling back and filling you again. You gasped as he moaned softly into your ear, his grunts making you even wetter, your walls sliding softly against his cock as he pressed the spongy walls inside of you. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

He leaned back onto his knees, tugging your legs and hips higher, pressing a series of kisses to your calf. “Fuck, Sunny, I love you so much. Feel so fucking good, goddamn.” 

He was close, you could tell. So were you. You reached one hand down, brushing against your clit. “Come with me,” you murmured. “Please, Bobby, come inside of me. Fill me.” 

Bob groaned loudly, leaning forward, plunging his cock deeper inside of you and you gasped, pressing down hard on your clit, circling the bud quickly as you watched his beautiful face contort in ecstasy. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna come. Darlin’, I’m coming!” 

And then he was spilling inside of you as you shouted his name, your orgasm breaking as he shot hot cum against your walls, collapsing softly at your side, his cock still trapped inside your wet, tight walls. You ran one hand over his back, tucking a leg over his hip, holding him close. “Bobby,” you whispered. “I love you more than I even realized was possible. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” 

He let out a sigh, running one hand over your cheek. “I’ll love you forever, Reid.” 

***

“Listen, Reid—”

You held up a hand, stopping Jake mid sentence. “Not tonight, Seresin,” you said quietly. You looked over at Bob. He was grinning from ear to ear, standing next to the old wooden piano as Bradley pressed down on the keys. 

It was Bob’s twenty-ninth birthday. The two of you had officially known each other for a decade. It felt like just yesterday that you had stopped him after class to ask if he would tutor you. 

If only you had met him sooner. If only you had more time. 

Jake opened his mouth but one look at your frown and he closed it, hanging his head softly. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, walking away. 

You leaned against the bar. It wasn’t often that you got to watch Bob lose himself in a moment anymore. It always felt like his mind was elsewhere. He was worried about the future. He was panicking. He so rarely was in the moment. You loved to watch him smile. Watch him enjoy himself. Even if it was only for a few minutes. 

Once Bradley had finished a few songs, Bob patted him on the shoulder, making his way over to you at the bar, winding his arm around your waist, dragging you in closer, planting a kiss on your lips softly. 

“Hi darlin’.” 

You smiled up at him. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.” 

Bob nodded, sliding his hand into yours, leading you out through the back door. 

The two of you slipped off your shoes, setting off in the cool sand. You were reminded of only a month before when you had snuck out onto the beach during Jake’s birthday party. That was the night that had unraveled everything. 

The moon was bright, tossing a blanket of light on the dark ocean waves. You walked in silence for a few moments before Bob turned to you. “Sunny?” 

“Yeah baby?” 

He leaned in, tucking a chunk of hair behind your ear. “You know I love you, right?” 

You grinned. “Always.” 

Bob smiled softly. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared. All I know is that I don’t want to waste whatever time we have left.” 

He stopped and shoved his hand in his pocket, emerging a moment later with a plain gold band. You looked at the ring and then up at him in shock. 

“We don’t have to get married or have a wedding or any of that. I know it’s not your style,” he said. “But I just want to know that when it happens, we belonged to each other. That’s all I want.” 

You felt a tear slip down your cheek as you nodded furiously. “I’ll be yours, Robert Floyd. Always have been.” You held out your shaky left hand and Bob slid the ring on carefully. 

He smiled down at you. “That’s Meemaw’s ring, by the way. She told me a long time ago to give it to you.” 

You pressed your hand close to your heart. “Now I feel bad that I didn’t get you a gift,” you whispered. 

Bob leaned down, pulling you closer to him, your face pressed against his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his core. “You’re my gift.” 

***

The last box of your things finally got shipped from Brooklyn. It had somehow gotten lost by the moving company, arriving months later than the rest of your items. 

You frowned, standing at the door looking down at the box. “Bobby?” 

“Coming sweetheart.” 

A moment later, he appeared at the front door in a pair of jeans and sweatshirt. Temperatures were starting to dip as you entered fall. 

Bob looked at the box. “What is that?” 

“It’s the last box, that one they lost when they were moving my stuff,” you said. “Can you help me get it inside?” 

“Of course, honey.” You scooted to the side, holding open the door as Bob lifted the box, carrying it into the dining room where he plopped it gently on the table. 

You grabbed a scissors, slicing through the tape, peering inside. It felt like another lifetime ago that you had boxed everything up in your Greenpoint loft. 

Peering into the box, you spotted a pair of old headphones, and then several manilla folders. “What is all of this?” Bob asked, pulling out folder after folder. 

You shrugged, opening one of the folders up, finding tax returns from a few years back. “Paperwork from my office, I think. I don’t even remember packing if we’re being honest.” 

You were flipping through old travel magazines — why had you bothered to keep those? — when Bob’s voice cut through the empty air. “Reid?” 

You looked up. Something about his tone. Bob held up a piece of paper in his hand, Mount Sinai’s logo embossed at the top. 

“What is this?” 

Squinting, it took a moment for you to realize. When you did, your heart sank a bit. You pulled out a chair, sitting down. Bob followed suit. “When I first got diagnosed, the doctor said that no matter what route we took for treatment, I should look into freezing my eggs.” 

Bob’s eyes widened. “Did you?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I did. They got twenty four eggs.” 

“Is that a lot?” 

“Apparently it’s a decent amount.” 

Bob looked down at the paper. “What are you going to do with them?” 

“I actually hadn’t remembered until now,” you said quietly. “There’s a lot to think about.” 

Bob reached over and put his hand on yours. “I know. How can I help?” 

It was simple. Everything you had, you wanted to go to Bob. The two of you met with a lawyer who helped draw up your medical requests. 

Later that night, just as you were about to fall asleep, Bob rolled over so you were face to face. “Sunny?” 

“Hmm?” Your eyes were still closed. 

“Honey, can I ask you something?” 

You opened one eye. “What is it, Bobby?” 

“I can’t stop thinking about the eggs.” 

You frowned, sitting up against the pillows. “The frozen eggs?” 

He nodded. 

“What about them?” 

“What if we had a baby?” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Bob was propped up on one elbow, his blue eyes shining in the moonlight that fell where the gap in the curtains couldn’t reach. “I’m completely serious. I want to be a dad, I’ve always wanted to be a dad. And those eggs are there. They’re healthy.” 

“I can’t carry a baby,” you whispered. “Not with the cancer.” 

“We get a surrogate.” Bob sat up, taking your hands in his. “If you don’t want a baby, I understand. I would never force you to. But darlin’, there’s nobody else I would want to have a child with. Even if we only have a few months together with the baby, or if we have five years, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we would love that baby more than anything in this world.” 

You looked at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re truly serious.” 

He nodded. “I am. I want to have a baby with you, Reid Coleman. A little girl with your eyes. A little boy with your smile. I’ll take anything. I want to be a dad. And I want to raise a baby with you.” 

“Let me think about it,” you whispered. 

“Of course.” 

You laid back down, Bob’s arms wrapped around you from behind. Kids. Babies. You had never thought too long or hard about kids until you were told it was unlikely you could have them. And then they started to dominate your thoughts. 

You knew Bob would be a good dad. He would be an excellent dad. The only thing you worried about was leaving them. 

At least they would have each other. At least he wouldn’t be alone. 

You floated off to sleep, the image of Bob holding his newborn child in his arms tattooed across your mind. 

***

You were sitting on the beach in a foldout chair, wearing a pair of linen pants and one of Bob’s old button downs, your bare feet buried in the sand as you watched the team play a confusing game of football. You had never been one for sports, so you didn’t even bother to learn the rules or objectives. Simply watching them all in their shirtless states was enough. 

Bob came over during a halftime break and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey darlin’,” he whispered. “Doing OK?” 

You nodded up at him. “Great. Can you just do me one favor?” 

“Anything.” 

You pinched the material of his yellow shirt. “Lose the shirt, baby. Let me watch my man destroy those idiots and look good doing it.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head but peeling off his shirt, dropping it on the ground near you. Your eyes grazed over his chiseled stomach and muscular arms and you grinned. “Better?” he asked. 

You nodded enthusiastically. “Now kiss me please.” 

Bob leaned down, brushing his lips over yours. You reached out a hand, running it through his hair, your tongue darting into his mouth softly. He pulled back with a groan. “Honey, you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered,” he whispered and you looked down at a smirk to his shorts which were already growing tight. 

“Go play,” you whispered. “We’ll finish this when you’re back.” 

Bob groaned and licked his lips, looking at you one last time before jogging back to the group. 

They were all beautiful. It was almost hard to choose who to look at. All tanned, taunt limbs, gorgeous faces, wide smiles. Once the game wrapped, everyone headed inside for a drink. Bob helped you put the chair and your stuff in his truck. 

On the way back to the Hard Deck, he turned to you. “Sunny?” 

“What is it sweetheart?” 

“Have you, um.” Bob looked flustered. “Have you thought about what we were discussing the other night?” 

Your chest tightened. He meant the baby discussion. 

The truth was, it was the only thing you had been able to think about. You were twenty-nine, going on thirty. You never saw yourself as one of those women. The ones who longed for a child, who so obviously were made for motherhood. Your childhood had been rocky at best. Your mother was about as good of a role model as a can of beer was to an alcoholic. 

And yet, something had changed over the last six months since the diagnosis. You started to notice babies and children out and about with their parents. At the store, on a sidewalk, on the beach. You would smile and wave and make little goo-goo noises to kids as they passed. And your heart would swell when they smiled back, chubby fingers raised in a wave. 

You turned your eyes to Bob’s. “Yeah, honey, I’ve thought about it.” 

“What do you think?” he whispered. 

You shook your head and watched Bob’s face fall. Immediately, you pressed your hands to both of his cheeks. “Sorry, that wasn’t a no head shake. It was an I don’t know.” You sighed. “I want a baby,” you confessed, the first time you had said it outloud ever. “I just don’t know if I could do that to you. Leave you to raise a baby by yourself.” You shook your head. “That would be so incredibly selfish of me.” 

Bob placed his hands over yours. “I’m asking you to do it,” he whispered. “It’s not selfish, Reid. It’s the most selfless thing a person could ever do.” 

“OK,” you whispered.

Bob’s cerulean blue eyes lit up, his mouth dropping wide. “OK?” 

You nodded and he let out a whoop, pulling you into his arms, spinning you around quickly before setting you back down and planting his lips on yours. You grinned, drawing your hands back, running your thumb over the cool metal of the ring on your fourth finger. So far, nobody had asked about the ring. 

The two of you walked back to the bar hand in hand. Natasha was sitting outside on the patio, drinking a beer, her arms propped up against the wooden railing. She smiled at the two of you as you approached, taking in your uncontrollable smiles. 

“What’s with you two?” she asked. “You look like cats that ate the canary.” 

Bob looked at you. “Do we tell her?” 

You squeezed his hand. “It’ll come out eventually.” 

Bob grinned. “We’re going to have a baby.” 

Natasha’s mouth dropped. Shock was written all over her face. It took her a second to compose herself, and when she did she shook her head. “Wait, but how. I thought with the cancer…” She trailed off. 

You nodded. “I can’t carry the baby. But before I left New York, I froze my eggs. So we’re going to have to find a surrogate. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s what we want.” 

You looked up at Bob. He was glowing. If he was this happy now, you couldn’t imagine how happy he would be when he held his child in his arms for the first time. 

Natasha’s voice pulled you out of your daydream. “I’ll do it.” 

The two of you turned to her, eyes wide. “What?” you breathed. 

She nodded, a firm confirmation. She was serious. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your surrogate.”

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[sepublic]

            I’m probably late in suggesting this but… King James I published a whole book about witches, a guide of sorts, called Daemonologie. Published in 1597, it saw another reprint when he became king in 1603. James was said to have a fascination with witches and demons, to the point that it’s claimed Shakespeare wrote in an additional scene with the witches in Macbeth to pander to James’ tastes. The thing is…

         James thought witches were evil. And his Daemonologie book explained how to recognize witches, how they worked, the animal familiars they used, all that stuff, ultimately to give witch-hunters an idea of how to find and kill them; Because the main solution to witchcraft in this book was execution. Daemonologie was meant to expose the existence of witchcraft to the common people, and prove it.

         Philip and Caleb Wittebane entered Old Gravesfield in the year 1613. Just a decade after the Royal Re-Release of Understanding Witches (So you can kill them). Philip documents a lot of the stuff he sees in the Boiling Isles, to a scientific degree, cataloguing, categorizing, etc. And in the first diary entry we hear, Philip ruminates on how he wishes humanity could see the Boiling Isles and understand…

         @fermented-writers-block already suggested this to me a while back, the idea that Philip initially wrote his journal as proof of witchcraft and especially the demon realm’s existence, so he could convince people to help him eradicate the alleged threat, and/or prove he went on a successful crusade that saved the world. Granted, the people of Gravesfield seemed like earnest believers by that point, but I can imagine Philip taking real-life inspiration from King James I to convince others around the globe, who may not be as receptive to his claims.

         Anyhow, I think it deeply re-contextualizes our understanding of Philip’s diary entries in a complete 180 way; Most of us were under the initial impression that Philip’s fascination stemmed from a place of genuine wonder, curiosity, and appreciation for the Boiling Isles. But knowing he’s a witch hunter, it seems his interest came from a place of condemnation; Wanting to understand the witches so he could kill them. Whether James actually believed in witchcraft, I’m not sure, but to Philip, it was lore contributing to his favorite game of destroying the Bad Guys; Cowboys VS Indians, basically. The Collector accuses Philip of having fun destroying Grimwalkers, and they’re not even his main target.

         It’s a borderline fetishistic attitude towards witches; Philip is enamored, he wants to know and understand and figure them out. But he’s so deeply committed to dehumanizing and hating them, wanting their utter annihilation. Witches exist as the enemy NPCs in a video game where Philip immerses himself into their lore and in-universe dialogue, even as he slaughters them in droves. It’s a sick and sadistic pleasure at the expense of others he loathes, paradoxical in the way fetishization is; Philip’s previously-shown interest is not a contradiction, at least not from a writing perspective.

         It works as a way to trick the viewer while still making total sense. A brief outside glimpse might suggest to the unsuspecting that Philip DOES like witchcraft, but no, he’s an objectifying colonizer who wants to own and appropriate, not learn and engage with on the same, humble level as a learner. Philip sees himself as a conqueror looting knowledge instead of riches from his victims, and he gets just that from people like Luz and the Collector.

         He doesn’t really understand what he’s playing with and he doesn’t want to; He’s the White Dude who indulges in ethnic stereotypes and cuisine, in the tourist-y commodification of cultures, while at the same time voting for minorities to be outlawed. I would even compare Philip to a trophy hunter, knowing all the stuff about his prey, writing comprehensive guides… all for the purpose of how to kill and destroy them, as part of some big game.

        I get the feeling that Philip ultimately WANTED witches to exist; Because if he was truly genuine about saving the world, about protecting people, it’d be a relief to find out there was no threat after all. But Philip wants for there to be a threat, never mind what it can pose to others, because then he gets to be the hero!!! He gets to be chosen one who goes on a sick adventure beating people up! He goes on rants about a hidden threat beneath our very eyes, not because Philip actually wants to warn people, but because he sees this as his opportunity to be the savior; So really, Jacob Hopkins IS Philip, isn’t he?

[ratwithhands]

I'm curious. I've seen your art and something that's come to my mind is what actually got you attached with the Subway brothers. Your narrative on their different AU forms is so unique which is what brought me to that question

Alright, rat history time.

So basically back in 2021-2022, I was working on an old OC storyline (about 3 years old by then) and I was in grade 9 so I was like “A new Pokémon game? Pfft, like I care” and just didn’t watch any of the stuff related to PLA when it dropped. I still got recommended Twitter posts about it on Instagram and I ended up seeing this one.

I tried looking up Ingo cause I was like "oh, funky design, looks like a captain or something" but I didn't end up finding anything so I didn't press further. Anyways in March break of 2022, I got bored and decided to put some game streams on in the background while I drew. I saw Alpharad's PLA video and decided to watch it for a bit when I saw Ingo.

I was like "Hey you're the guy from Twitter!" and since I knew his name now, I looked him up and found his Bulbapedia article. I found him much more interesting than the rest of the PLA cast since he had history outside PLA, and I ended up reading up whatever I could find on him. I also by extension discovered Emmet this way, which only served to suck me deeper down the rabbit hole. By the end of March break I had a fan OC and 2 AUs made with more on the way, as well as a YouTube recommended page with nothing but theory videos on Ingo and decade old Submas content.

Around May I decided to decommission my OC storyline for personal reasons, and by this point Submas was starting to occupy more of my creative work anyways. Since I didn't have my storyline to put my energy into, I started funnelling literally any story ideas into Submas. This led to nonstop content for a shockingly long time, and ofc I'm still coming up with stuff now.

Long story short, I got attached to them by accident! It was a "right place, right time" sort of thing since they came in as I was starting to get sluggish with my original content and I ended up being more interested in writing for them.

As for narratives, I am effectively playing dolls with these guys. Usually the kind of stuff that I write for them is meant for OCs, but I dumped the 60+ person cast so I put that energy into them instead.

Most AUs will either have a core theme, an out of pocket idea, or both to make things interesting. Usually I just come up with a dumbass idea like "what if we brought ReBURST back for a rerun" or "what if Emmet signed a contract with an eldritch space spider" or "what if Submas could see into the future" and stuff like that, then it picks up themes as I keep writing. For some silly examples:

Burst is based on Pokémon ReBURST and the idea of human-Pokémon fusion, but there's focus on skill, how characters misperceive it, and resentment as a result. There's also a spotlight on inferiority complexes, bottled up guilt, and blind confidence depending on which main character you look at

Journal is about a diary that helps Ingo to regain his memories, and it focuses on remembrance and regret as a result of him reading it. Spotlight on lacking awareness vs hyper awareness and the monotony of living as people around you leave

Oracle is exactly what it sounds like, with the twins being able to see into the future. It focuses on cooperation and the importance of working together, but also learning how to work alone. The spotlight's on jealousy and gratitude for this one, though the latter greatly outweighs the former in this case

I also just have AUs I made to try deranged shit for funsies, like Sapioflora, Cybernetic/Z-Λ, Team Supernova, and Idol. Those are mostly for exploring goofy ideas that may or may not go anywhere.

Right anyways basically I just saw Submas after watching PLA gameplay and found the twins more interesting to write about than the project I'd exhausted by then. The narratives are like that because the AU ideas I make are actually OC concepts that I modify to fit Pokémon specifically for these two or ideas about the two that I'd like to explore. Hope that answers the question ^^*

[y-rhywbeth2]

Hello! We haven't interacted a lot but I've seen links and lore stuff leading back here, lol

Potentially random question: off the top of your head, which books would have Calimshan content?

Bear in mind, my only experience with 2e is the original Baldur's Gate games, I briefly played some 3.5 around 15 years back but I got more mileage on that edition via the first Neverwinter Nights than my actual dnd groups because they were clowns, and then started playing again on 5e a few years ago after basically a decade long hiatus, so 5e is the edition I'm most fresh on. I still remember some shit off the old 3.5 Player's Handbook, have pirated Deities and Demigods because I love polytheistic pantheons, and then came across a third-party book called "The Calimshan Adventurer's Guide", but that's not official content... even the wiki on Calimshan is disappointingly sparse, and I do not really trust the wiki that much tbh.

Going with what little I had, I actually ran a 2-year long campaign based entirely in Calimshan, but I had to homebrew the fuck out of it... would love to get my hands on some actual lore lol. Any recs?

A lot of this might overlap or contradict and I make no promises as to quality (haven't read some of them in years), but: I know there is lore in Empire of the Sands (1e), Races of Faerûn (3.5e), and the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting (3.5e). Calimport (2e) covers the capital. There's a bit of lore in Murder in Baldur's Gate but that's more about Little Calimshan and the recent refugee diaspora. A tiny bit of Spellplague-era lore from the Forgotten Realms Campaign Guide (4e). Empires of the Shining Sea should have 2e lore, as far as I know.

The Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide is so brief even by the usual standards of Calishite lore entries in the larger scope books that I might as well post it here:

'Calimshan. This southern land has long been the battleground for warring genies. After years of struggling beneath their genasi masters, human slaves arose to follow a Chosen of Ilmater, at first using nonviolent resistance, and then erupting into full rebellion following his disappearance. They overthrew the genie lords of Calimport and Memnon, casting the remaining genies out of the cities and back to their elemental homes or into the depths of the deserts. Much of Calimshan is a chaotic place dominated by wealth, political influence, and personal power. Many pray for the return of the Chosen and the completion of his work. Others are learning to live together without genie masters, and grudgingly accept the remaining genasi among them.'

[itsclydebitches]

I really enjoy Razbuten's gaming vids and his most recent upload - "The Games I Wish I Never Replayed" - really resonated with me in regards to RWBY. Tl;dr, he makes the case that some games (Bioshock: Infinite is his example) get away with seeming deep and meaningful primarily through their spectacle. The audience is so blown away by what's happening on screen, is so immersed in one cool thing after another, that they don't even question whether this makes sense until after the credits roll. Or, more likely, after they've stepped away from the game for some time and then replay it. This is by no means his only or even core argument - he's really talking about how changes in ourselves, the gaming landscape, unreliable memory, and nostalgia all combine to influence whether we still adore a game years later - but that particular bit about spectacle really stuck with me. This idea that if you just throw enough stuff at the viewer they'll get caught up in the excitement and, likely, fail to see the larger, less-than-stellar picture. This feels particularly relevant in the most recent Volumes not just because the quality of the writing has gone down after RT's attempt to turn the show into more than just a boarding school adventure, but because RWBY has embraced more and more of that spectacle along the way. We've gone from stuff like "A train the heroes were trying to stop derails and lets in a bunch of the show's standard monster fare" to "The girls fall into an alternate reality filled with pretty/humorous distractions and one main character has aged several decades while another is having a breakdown." Despite the show often feeling slow and like there's nothing of real importance going on, RWBY has nevertheless really leaned into that spectacle, making it that much easier to miss the ways in which it doesn't hang together.

The other, related thing Razbuten mentions is how he also didn't see these problems back in the day because he wasn't looking for them. He stresses that this isn't a 'I'm smarter now' situation, but merely a different perspective: someone who analyzes games for a living is of course going to be primed to see more issues in the medium than someone who only plays games for fun. Same with the RWDE tag. By and large we're fans who were - to a greater and lesser extent - already engaged in meta writing by the time we learned of the community's existence, meaning we were already viewing RWBY through the perspective of, "What makes this show tick and how well is it achieving that?" RWDE (generally speaking) isn't made up of people who hate the show, it's made up of people who approach RWBY with a more critical eye by default and, as a result, find it that much harder to buy into the spectacle. We've "replayed" the show as a whole and found it wanting. And there's a reason Razbuten doesn't conclude, "But then I just decided to enjoy those games anyway and everything was fine." Once you see those problems you can't ignore them and once you have that skill at your disposal you can't turn it off. At least I can't.

[horsetailcurlers2]

do you have any outlaw queen headcanons? (robin lives au)

yes for sure! i’ve admittedly been on my swan queen vibe for a while (so i might be a little rusty at this lol) but i am nothing if not a multi shipper and this is perfect timing bc i have been thinking about OQ lately.

-in my perfect “robin lives” AU, the zelena-is-marian arc never happened lol but for narrative purposes let’s say zelena just had a redemption arc, robin was not killed, and everyone is safe and happy and storybrooke is settled and peaceful with no magical antagonists.

-robin and roland move into regina’s house eventually and it is���. quite the adjustment. he has spent at least a decade living in the woods and sleeping on the ground for one thing. and unlike everyone that came over during the first curse, he very much does not have 30 years of built in knowledge about modern technology. he is absolutely hopeless with it all. it took regina two months to teach him how to use the coffee maker. he only knows how to put on his two favorite channels in the tv (do NOT ask him to put on netflix or even put in a dvd). and he flat out REFUSES to use the microwave. regina finds this all to be some combination of exasperating and adorable. henry just finds it absolutely hilarious.

-as robin settles in and gets more comfortable in storybrooke, he discovers the things he likes about our realm. he loves the music. naturally, robin really likes classic dad bands. like the avett brothers and stuff. he’s always asking regina to help him play their music on his “magic song thingy” (an mp3 player). he also loves the nature channel (sorry if that’s a little on the nose haha). i also think he’d have a fascination with reruns of old family sitcoms.

-he makes her more social. not in a forced way, i just mean that he makes her feel a lot more comfortable going to public social gatherings. it’s a lot easier for her to be around all her former subjects when robin is there with her. and he’s kind of a social butterfly so she lowkey loves seeing him in his element. a lot of her discomfort also comes from thinking that nobody actually wants her there or that they all still hate her so he definitely helps assure her that she is wanted and he encourages her to spend more time around people so she can see for herself.

-sharing her space is very difficult for regina at first. she’s always been a very solitary person (aside from her relationship with henry which is a completely different thing) and every time she’s had to share space so intimately, it’s usually been because it was forced upon her. so she is very grumpy and irritated when he first moves in because he keeps leaving things out of place or because he snores in his sleep or “breathes too loud”. eventually they work it out and she learns how to live alongside another person and she learns to make space for robin while still keeping some for herself.

-he LOVES post it notes. he thinks they are the handiest modern convenience after indoor plumbing and electricity. he leaves an excessive amount of notes for her all around the house- on her vanity mirror, on the refrigerator, on the dashboard of her car. sometimes it’s practical reminders (they’re out of bread, he will be working late, he’s handling dinner that night) but usually it’s just something very sappy about how beautiful she is or what a good day he wants her to have. it’s ridiculous and cheesy and cliche but she can’t help smiling every time.

-the charmings host a lot of the big family gatherings at their farmhouse, but regina’s house is also a hot spot for family dinners (see my regina headcanons about how she secretly loves hosting). they have monthly family game nights at mifflin street but regina has actually been banned from playing. she is confined to being the score keeper or the game master because she gets WAY too intense and it kind of ruins it for everybody else.

-somebody with as much trauma as regina is bound to have some nightmares. the first time they share a bed for not so scandalous reasons, he is so startled and freaked out by her nightmares that he falls off the bed and onto the floor. they aren’t bad all of the time, and a lot of nights she doesn’t even have them. but when they’re bad, they’re pretty bad. once he catches on to what’s going on, he’s exceptionally good at helping sooth them.

-roland LOVES living with regina and henry. he thinks having a big brother is so cool and he is obsessed with “helping” regina in the kitchen. he also really loves the “magic moving pictures” on the tv. at first, it’s an adjustment for him because he misses sleeping in a tent with his papa’s merry men, but he still visits camp very often. regina also puts some of those glow in the dark plastic stars on his ceiling and he LOVES them bc it feels like he’s still sleeping under the “outside ceiling” as he calls it.

-robin’s main love language is gift giving. it seems a little contradictory with the whole “robin hood” thing but it is not materialistic at all. it’s just in the sense that he is thoughtful and perceptive and he likes giving things to the people he loves that show how deeply he knows them. it’s very novel to regina, who has never really received a gift from anybody except for daniel (and henry of course). she mentioned her favorite novel once offhand, and he bought her a beautiful first edition for christmas months later. it’s also the little things: her favorite flowers when he comes home one weekday evening, her favorite candy when he swings by the grocery store, stopping into her office to surprise her with a coffee the exact way she orders it. she’s never had somebody who is just so clearly always thinking about her and prioritizing her in such a way.

-i go back and forth on whether or not they would ever get married (mostly because regina has so much trauma around marriage and they are already in love and living as a family anyway). ultimately though, i think that they would. the idea isn’t so scary to her when it comes to robin (plus at this point she’s had quite a bit of therapy) and it’s what she’s always wanted- to be married to the person she really loves and to have a peaceful simple life surrounded by people who love her.

[im-just-kinda-here-k]

tell me about stellaris in the most autistic way imaginable (i wanna learn by infodump and infodump only)

(Srry this took me so long to answer I wanted to answer once I got home and promptly forgot about it lmao)

So! Stellaris. The 4x game where you genocide in space or something.

I'll start from the top, you will be designing a space-faring empire to play as, staring with...

SPECIES/HOME SYSTEM: This is where your gonna decide what your founding species looks like and what traits they have, as well as what their home planet/star are named. Not to mention you can write a short biography on your empires pre-ftl history here! Role-play wise this will affect your game greatly, but in terms of gameplay its only a big deal early on as barring some exceptions you will like end up with quite the melting pot, and any individual species traits will be of little consequence. The next part will be much more influential, however.

GOVERNMENT: Now we get into the real meat of your empire. Who are they? What do they stand for? What makes them stand out? How do they decide on their leaders? Do they decide on their leaders? You can be militaristic xenophiles who will fight tooth and nail to protect the galaxies people, or a curious hive mind that wants to hoard as much knowledge as it can without coming to blows with its neighbors, and yes, space nazis. Here you can also decide the past of your species, they could be fairly normal, simply reaching out into the stars after a few decades of booming economy, or they could've never lived on a planet at all, being born on floating habitats in the void.

MISC: Just some other details, your first leaders name/gender, what your ships look like, what your advisor sounds like, that kinda stuff.

GAMEPLAY: I'm sorry but I have that committed to muscle memory I would have a stroke if I tried to explain it. Montu and other stellaris youtubers are the best for that.

MODS: For when you've spent 200$ on dlc but want 600$ worth instead. This can be anything from simple tweaks to complete overhauls of the gameplay. My favorite are "gigastructural engineering and more" which expand on the megastructure system (just really big things that make the economy go brrrrrr) and adds lots of post endgame content. (Wanna rearrange entire star systems into mobile weapons platforms and pit them against space cats that consume millions of galaxies to outlive entropy?)

Then there's stellaris evolved, which changes literally every aspect of the game in some way we would be here all day so just know it's amazing.

Alright we've been through a few paragraphs of this so I think it's time to talk about one of my own empires!

THE EMPIRE OF SILDORIA: A long time ago, humans sent out colony ships into a wormhole found at the edge of the solar system, most were destroyed, but one of the surviving ones wound up in a random part of the galaxy, and went a-looking for a new home. But they couldn't find one, supplies were dwindling and systems were failing, so they took a gamble and took up residence in the upper atmosphere of an unusually stable gas giant. It was still a brutal task, where people were worked to death out of necessity rather than greed, but they pulled it off. Floating cities dot the gas planet of sildoria, and after scrounging up enough materials, they have made their way onto the galactic stage. It did not come without cost, however, as the humans, or rather, sildorians, have been fundamental changed by their experiences. Their psyche is unbreakable on a biological level, and their bodies are quite tough as well. They are instinctively inclined to reduce waste, and have a reduced birthrate as a result of cramped conditions. The sildorian government is an interesting one, while it is extremely focused on material gain and expansion of industry, they make sure to take as good care of their people as they can. A sildorian laborer will be expected to give everything they can spare in the workplace, and in exchange they will want for nothing at home. In the future the sildorian empire is likely to take forays into robotics and cybernetics to maximize productivity and comfort. OK that's all I have to say :D

[fantasyinvader]

Honestly, thinking back of it there's a good bit of fridge horror to the Megaman series. It's kinda the anti-Terminator if you want to go that far, it's a series that plays heavily into the humans are bastards trope.

I mean, sure, you play as Megaman and go around fighting other robots. But the person behind it, usually, is the human Dr. Wily. Megaman is a machine that is meant to learn and have emotions, but at the end of the day he doesn't have free will. This is most noticable at the end of Megaman 7, where he wanted to kill Wily but was unable to do so because he is compliant with Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics. He was made to serve humans, not harm them, and this is kinda the thing about the Robot Masters. They're just machines made to perform tasks for humans.

Dr. Light tried to take this further with X, actually giving him free will. However, he feared X so locked him up and had him run tests to his morality for decades before X was found. It's just a different form of programming, Light didn't directly program X with morals but instead used the tests to teach him morals. But this doesn't apply to the Reploids made from copying X, and when those robots reject human orders they can be declared Mavericks and then legally killed. They have the ability to think for themselves, but will be killed if they turn against humans. And that's not even going into the Sigma/Zero virus created by Wily, theorized by some to be just Zero's original programming to destroy stuff.

Humans have made a slave race, and by the time of Zero it's even worse. When there's an energy crisis, innocent Reploids are declared Mavericks and killed for the benefit of humans. Not only that, the main villain of the series is once again a human albeit an immortal cyborg whose hatred for Reploids over the Maverick Wars and the damage caused by them causing the Elf Wars (which wiped out even more of humanity). It's at this point that the Zeroth Law of Robotics is put into place, Zero goes to kill this guy in order to save humanity. But he's still around in the background in the ZX series, but by then humans have been moving towards being cyborgs and Reploids have more limitations on them to make them more human (like finite lifespans). In the ZX series, you can play as a human with Megaman-like powers. Not to mention, Copy X was originally supposed to be X in the first draft, X putting human lives above others after killing so many Mavericks being his downfall. Instead, we got Copy X who just followed his programming.

I think the theory that Legends takes place after the bad ending to X5 makes the most sense thematically. In that ending, Zero doesn't return and X begins working on building a space colony for humans. It can be implied this is the same space colony from Legends 2, which was the final home for humanity. Reploids are replaced by Carbons, a possibly cyborg-like race that have human DNA in them. However, the robots tied to the colony in the first game try to purge an island of Carbons because their numbers exceeded the maximum allowed, while the second ends on a cliffhanger where a program that will harvest Carbons for their human DNA to bring back humanity is kickstarted. Legends takes place in a world that still prioritizes human life above the machine-like race they created, whereas the main timeline games are shown to move beyond that. It's kinda like how the Battle Network and Starforce games were originally supposed to be a timeline where Wily didn't get funding for robotics and instead mankind had a more advanced internet due to backing Dr. Light/Hikari's internet research.

And, you know, that bad ending where X and Zero have their destined final battle that was built up since X3… it just means they did what they were supposed to do, while the good ending instead sees them break free of their destiny, much like a robot breaking free of their programming.

I know supplementary materials put Legends after ZX, but I like to think of it like this instead (especially considering how X5 was originally intended to be the finale). Treating human life as special, putting it above other forms of life mankind created, is humanity's sin. In ZX, mankind becoming more like the Reploids is a path forward for them, a step towards equality, and that was because of the lessons learned by the Zero series. But it also makes an argument that Megaman failing to kill Wily at the end of 7 is what doomed humanity. If Megaman had free will or broke his programming, it would have saved mankind a lot of trouble in the long run.

[danielt1985]

Learning To Love Minecraft Again (A Thread)

Written by Daniel T. Gaming

I've been recently falling in love with Minecraft again. After so long of not playing it. I decided to pick it back up & play it again, and It has been one of my favorite things to play in SO long. However, I did a few things to spruce up my newly found interest.

1. A Fresh Client I had decided to switch over from the tradition Minecraft launcher to the ATLauncher, a mod-eccentric client. And while it may look a tad confusing, it's actually very handy. I am now able to save as many different versions of Minecraft I wanted without my save files or mods controlling one another, unlike the official Minecraft launcher. on top of that, the official launcher also installs a bunch of useless Xbox junk because, well, Microsoft.

2. Bringing Back The Old With the ATLauncher's ability to save as many versions of Minecraft with their own dedicated files & saves, I am now safely able to play older versions of Minecraft as my heart desires.

Right now, I'm playing 2 different versions, Beta 1.7.3 (A version regarded by a LOT of people as one of the best versions of Minecraft to play today), and Release 1.5.2 (The first ever version of the game I EVER played back in 2012). I will still pick up & play Release 1.20 cuz I do like a lot of the new decor pieces & things, but if I ever just want to play a standard game of Minecraft, I have these 2 versions to keep me occupied.

There's also the old legacy versions from Consoles that people are coming back to, but I haven't gotten to those yet, but planned on them soon.

3. Making My Own Goals

My mind has always saw that "Beating the Ender Dragon" was the ultimate goal of Minecraft, and that once it's done, it's done. And while a part of me still feels that way, I'm slowly moving away from that, because that mindset has literally KILLED so many of my past Minecraft maps, and I deeply regret it.

So I started to make my own goals & my own rules. My current survival map never had a bulk smelting machine, so I added one. I never got to refine my mine & make it more like an actual mineshaft, so I got to go & do that.

I don't just want to make Minecraft a point A -> B kinda game. I want to make it a game about creating as much stuff as you can. There are people in this world who have been able to build worlds that have taken them over a DECADE to finish... so why not give yourself that same level of encouragement?

4. Playing With Friends I recently managed to get a personal Minecraft server going on an old PC. And playing with my friends has been an AMAZING experience. It's actually pretty cheap to run a server nowadays, and Bedrock editions now have general multiplayer support, so playing with friends is now becoming even EASIER than ever before.

5. Modding Makes The Difference Although I haven't got to do this one yet, I *am* planning on it, as it's been talked about by a LOT of people. There are actually a handful of mods out there that are not just for entertainment, but for bringing fresh vanilla-eccentric changes to Minecraft to keep its charm that it had in its early stages. Two that I have heard of are ReIndev & Better Than Adventure. Both of which actually run off of Beta 1.7.3 too, so that's neat!

I think personally, what these two mods are doing are GREAT, and I cannot wait to play them.

6. Making It Personal

Personally, I've been handling the game on a more personal level, and not too personal to where it's overbearing, but I mean as in I like to just do traditional fan things that I've done long ago. Watch Minecraft videos, pull out the old Minecraft merch I had from when I was young, listen to the soundtrack, etc.

I haven't felt this attached to Minecraft in SO long, but I am glad it's coming back. I might make this whole thing into a video, but until then, I wanted to make this thread to tell you all how I managed to finally get back in touch with Minecraft.

[vmures]

rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with

I was tagged by the ever lovely @oldefashioned

Favorite color?

Purple! I adore all shades of it. I'm also fond of various greens and pretty much all jewel tones, but purple is still my fave.

Last song? 🎧

Currently reading? 📔

Currently working my way through @libraryofgage's Stranger Things fics over on ao3. Really loving them so far. The Munson's as Addams relations is a very fun idea.

After this, I'll catch up on fic updates in my email and then go back to working my way through my marked for later stuff. lol

Currently watching? 📺

Spent some time with very dear friends/chosen family recently and caught up on some things I hadn't seen (I'm super slow to watch things on my own, partially because I really seem to prefer watching things with others). So here's what I watched on my little holiday:

The Proposal with Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock. I'm not sure why I'd never gotten around to seeing it as I adore both the mains and it has Betty White, who is always a delight. It was so much fun. Just the sort of thing I want from a rom com.

Knight and Day with Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz. A fun romp of an action comedy and a hell of a wild ride. Cameron Diaz was so fun as she gets dragged into spy stuff and shows she's rather a quick study.

Two eps of Black Mirror: San Junipero and Ashley O. Both eps were really good. San Junipero totally made me cry, but in a good way. It was just so sweet. Ashley O was a little slow at the start, but once it hits it's stride it was great.

One episode of the Amazon Prime series Solos: Leah. This episode features Anne Hathaway and was honestly amazing. She plays a physicist trying to solve time travel and it packs a hell of a punch. The premise of this anthology series is that each episode only features one actor, but it is amazing what an incredibly talented actor can accomplish all on their own. Leah tells an incredibly powerful story and I highly recommend watching it.

Madame Web. This one was a mixed bag. Fascinating premise, but the execution of the ideas was...not great. It was compelling enough that I was willing to sit through the not great parts to see what happened and the ending is solid. It's like the writers/director didn't know how to do the build up but once they hit a certain point of the story they found their rhythm and it worked a lot better from that point on.

Hunger Games Mockingjay Parts 1 and 2. I'd read the books about a decade ago and seen the first two movies, but somehow never got around to seeing the last two. I really enjoyed both. The cast is phenomenal and Jennifer Lawrence does a really good job of playing someone with C-PTSD and concussions. There were some lovely subtle shifts in her expression at times. Playing someone who is wooden when given acting directions for propaganda videos and vibrant and engaging when acting on their own is not an easy thing and she does it wonderfully. The rest of the cast is equally amazing.

Currently craving?

Ice cream. But I'll probably have a yogurt instead.

Coffee or tea?

Both! Coffee I loved hot or iced and with a bit of cream but no sugar. Tea I also love hot or iced. So far the only tea I'm not a fan of is lapsang souchong, which has a very smoky taste and scent. (as in it smells a bit like campfire and taste like liquid smoke--to me at least). Black teas I like with milk but no sweetener. Herbal teas...some I like with cream if hot (usually spiced ones) and others (particular fruit based ones) I like with nothing added. Greens, whites, pu erhs, and oolongs I generally like plain, though I do like to add cream to spiced teas as I really like how the cream flavor interacts with the spices.

As usual, I'm gonna just say that if you feel like playing, please consider yourself tagged by me. Please do tag me if you decide to play along. I love learning about all y'all.

Since I'm chatty as hell, I decided to follow @oldefashioned's lead. Here's an easy template for those who would like to play along.

rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with

Tagged by

Favorite color?

Last song?

Currently reading?

Currently watching?

Currently craving?

Coffee or tea?

[bagel-muncher]

I'm gonna be cringe asf and post wip stuff about one of my Persona oc's because I like this little guy and I'm tired so therefore immune to thinking why this is dumb to post.

So for some important background info, a lot of my characters are framed around basically a hypothetical Persona game that exists solely in my brain. The core theme of it is dreams, in the sense of both sleep and your aspirations and such. All of the Persona-Shadow-saving-the-world junk happens in their dreams. I don’t know the best way to describe it, but basically, the line between the collective unconscious and the individual subconscious has weakened and now Shadow’s are spilling into people's dreams, attacking them and leaving them brain-dead. Enter the MC and their group with all the Persona shenanigans you’d expect to try and stop this.  

So all that barely coherent background info aside, onto Yoshitada. He’s 20 years old and serves as the Navigator of the group once he joins later on (how and why is still up in the air, everything here is mostly vague ideas though I’m leaning towards a P4 type “they’re saved in their dreams and awaken to their Persona when confronted by their Shadow’s there”). The simplest way to describe him would be as another character in the same “bro” archetype as Junpei, Yosuke, and Ryuji. An idiot at times, but cares a lot about his friends and teammates and would do whatever he can to protect them.

His full name is Yoshitada Saito, but he mainly goes by Yoshi. He saw the dinosaur from Mario and went “Yeah that’s me frfr” (jk). He doesn’t like being referred to by his last name by anyone, both because he prefers to treat practically everyone like a close friend (he'd be like "Hey man, we're buds, yeah? Just call me Yoshi, no need to be all formal and shit!") and because of his parents.

To explain that last bit, his parents left him with his mom’s brother as a kid before driving off to who-knows-where. This led to him forming a lot of resentment toward his parents, making them among the few people he isn’t fond of. He lived with his uncle for the majority of his life, and he still lives in his uncle’s house after he passed. He doesn’t like his last name because it connects him to them.

I’m not sure if popular is the word I’m looking for, but he’s very well-known throughout town. Both for positive (his friendly demeanor, willingness to help others, and great work ethic) and negative reasons (him being loud as fuck, tending to sort of force himself into a situation, and just having dyed hair and that many piercings and the assumptions it brings). He’s generally well-liked, but people often feel like he’s trying too hard to be friendly or helpful, making them think it’s all just an act.

His unique appearance is entirely thanks to the fact that he thinks it looks rad as hell. He knows that it can give people a bad impression of him at first glance, but doesn’t care. To Yoshi, appearances don’t matter at all. If someone is scared off by him having blue and green hair or a face full of piercings, that’s an issue for them.

He plays the drums! His S-Link is started by him and the MC forming a mini-band just for fun in Yoshi’s garage. Band practice would be the main excuse for the two of them to hang out (like how most of Ryuji’s is prefaced with him and Joker training or Naoto’s is him and Yu trying to understand the whole Phantom Thief thing, etc.), usually starting with band practice before turning to them talking or going somewhere else for whatever reason. It’s through this that Yoshi starts to reveal more of himself to the MC, talking about his parents and other stuff that bothers him as much as he tries to pretend it doesn’t. I imagine the big thing of his link would be his parents wanting to get in contact with him again after over a decade, and him having to learn and accept that not everyone deserves the kindness he tries to treat everyone with.

His Persona is something I’m still undecided on, mainly because I’m trying to figure out some other characters and want to try and find some consistent theme or source that’d make sense. As a placeholder, I’ve just given him Apollo. As a god of music and prophecy, it combines one of Yoshi’s interests with his role in the team in a way that I think makes sense. His Arcana is the Strength.

Most of the cast is in college, except for Yoshi. He just works, flipping between jobs as he tries to find what works best for him.

Thanks to what a friend said ages ago, it is now canon that he has shitty posture. Bro sits like a shrimp.

As this is something that exists solely in my mind and as such is untouched by logic and Atlus’s rules, there’d be a male and female mc. That may seem random to mention, but I bring it up because Yoshi is gay, but is romancable with either protag. The thing is, getting closer to the male MC is what made him realize he liked guys. He’s had a ton of girlfriends over the years because he thought that was just what he was supposed to do and he never wanted to turn anyone down, but none of the relationships lasted. Yoshi tried constantly, but he could never be as interested or involved in the relationship as his girlfriends, so they’d eventually break up with him. This extends to the female MC. He thinks “Well, we’re really close. She cares about me, and I care a shitton about her. So… we probably should try to date, right?”, not really understanding the difference between his platonic love for her and what romantic love is supposed to be like. So romantic scenes like Valentine’s Day, Christmas, etc. would have him being a lot more stiff and awkward compared to the male MC, where he is genuinely in love.

(from my lovely oomf @nero1forte)