#I actually have no idea where the energy to post came from
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The inbox isn't empty, but I'm tired.
-Ivy
#mod ivy#off topic#I didn't really actually technically sleep last night#I actually have no idea where the energy to post came from#'You got me by all accounts it doesn't make sense'#but it's gone now and I'll continue another time#I'm sorry for not being veey active#but in my defense I'm super annoying and probably ruined this blog
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something fascinating to me about egg discourse is how often tme people Also joke about or question their friends potential to be trans, and it's literally never talked about like this.
my cis and tme nb friends routinely joke about celebrities or characters that have big "nonbinary energy" or who otherwise exhibit behavior we would associate with ourselves. i have tme friends and acquaintances who have approached me or my wife and straightforwardly said "something seems trans about you, have I asked for your pronouns recently?"
similar friends have even talked about other still-cis friends in our circle this way, or joked about "when are you going to transition like the rest of us?" or "yeah cis people are a minority in this group, just give it time" or "no wonder you have queer friends with how comfortable with being gnc you are" or etc etc examples like that
even the actual examples of people in my life that I can think of as being the most "invasive" or presumptive about gender have been tme people:
it was my cishet friends who outed me and my wife as trans to everyone at their wedding, including their boomer parents and hundreds of strangers, and called it "the most queer wedding party ever"
it was my tme nb friend who kept saying they could "always tell" her transfem cousin was trans before she came out, and then proceeded to randomly give us extremely personal details about her bottom surgery
it was my transmasc friend who refused to call me and my wife anything other than "little enby beans" after we met and introduced us with our full genders+sexuality labels to every single person one by one at a party
it was my transmasc nb friend who kept insisting my wife could "still be nonbinary" when she was first considering identifying as a trans woman instead, and it was THAT idea that actually slowed her down from making changes to her life that she wanted
it was my cis friends who approached me arm and arm and cornered my outside of a bathroom at a party right after I took a piss to suddenly ask me what my pronouns were because they "heard something" at the party
like, transfems deserve robust support against this trash so a lot of our defensive discourse has ofc been about how it IS okay for transfems to talk about eggs and be jokey about it and non-invasively approach others about being trans
but i swear to god none of these weird people have even stopped to make their discourse ABOUT anyone BUT transfems. it's so clearly targeted!!
no one has EVER approached *me* as a tme nb person and suggested i was pressuring gnc people with my egg jokes. never. nothing even remotely similar. i joke about other people being trans all the time and no one has ever treated me the way you all are treating transfems over this issue.
important note: my examples are all things I recall as being invasive and awkward, and I'm sharing them to make a point about how often rude behavior comes from the same tme people pointing fingers over this. but I still don't think any of them are worth the crucifixion people are treating transfem egg discourse with.
even when my friends were weird to me in the above examples, my reaction was either to confront them about it as friends who I trust to be able to communicate with, or to cut those individuals off after they proved not worth a relationship in the long run. at no time did I desire to make a call-out post or spread rumors about them or publicly declare all of their gender as a screeching menace to society.
my point here is that even when I do think about moments where others crossed a line, acting like this is a "issue trans women have" is blatantly transmisogynistic garbage that only exists to serve the woman-hating machine at the heart of our society. fucking cut it out
#to be clear: i have tons of transfem friends too#and im not friends with all of these people anymore#but thats not the point of this post at all#also obligatory im tme tag#but i think thats also clear in the post
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I s2g if you add the layers of these comic pages together, it's over 350 layers. THIS is why I don't do full color for my comics lmaooo- ANYWAY EVERYONE HERE HAS AN AU APPARENTLY, SO THIS IS A BRIEF GLIMPSE INTO MINE. I don't know what to call it yet but I'm thinking of calling it "famous prophets" because 1. I like that car seat headrest song, 2. it's about shamura who is prophetic, 3. it's about trying to outrun fate with the Power of Love (and failing. Like the song!!!). It takes place when all the bishops were teens/kids during the age of hundreds of gods at war, and were trying to survive as a family.
I'm really excited to work on stuff for it but it's all gonna be drawn out of order. Maybe I'll write a full explanation of what it's gonna be about when I have a better idea...I want to channel my eldest sibling angst in a productive way, and maybe establish a QPP between shamura and a completely random npc everyone forgets about <3 also kallamar is trans too cause I said so. I'll do a comic about it eventually. Instead of an absence of gender he has TOO much gender. It simply cannot be contained.
I like that nonbinary genders are normalized in cult of the lamb to the point where nobody singles anyone out for being a they/them, it's not like "THIS IS MY SIBLING SHAMURA. THEY ARE NONBINARY AND USE THEY/THEM. ALRIGHT BACK TO KILLING YOU", it's just like "don't you fucking dare make my poor sibling wake up from their nap to kick your ass. Cause they deserve better than this."
But at the same time I like having the freedom to be more specific, and say "shamura is voidpunk and their gender is best described as the feeling that overtakes you during the first snow of the year, when everything outside is deathly quiet". This comic is actually derived from the time I was walking through a forest that's been torn down for a few years, and came out to my little sister as trans. I must've been like 13 or 14 and she didn't really get it as a 10 year old, but it was better than my mom FREAKING OUT about me coming out. So it was a nice little bonding moment between just the two of us. I don't have a good memory so I don't recall how it went unfortunately...
Now, the climate is a little different. My sis tried out transmasculinity for maybe 5-6 years before feeling happier as a woman, my mom is trying to be Based and flaunt her Woke trans children, and my dad remembered "oh yeah trans natives have existed before colonization. Maybe me being transphobic is a product of my culture being erased" and has gotten better about calling me the right thing. I have a mustache (thanks pcos!!) and wear skirts and am not a repressed "tomboy" teenager anymore. But I can't help but wonder what would've happened if I could've been like shamura and just...been nonbinary without people being fucking weird about it. Or been born as a badass war god who will tear you to shreds before you can perceive my birth sex. I know they're fictional but they are my ultimate gender envy GRRRRR BARK BARK BARK
Here is the secret image for this post- I listen to mostly EDM when I draw cause it keeps the energy up, but as I was finishing up shamura's poetry part, I was like THESE ARE JUST KMFDM LYRICS so I made this
#cotl#cult of the lamb#famous prophets au#alternate universe#shamura#heket#kallamar#narinder#the one who waits#leshy#comic#violence tw#blood tw
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and i wonder... who? [5]
somehow, you find yourself torn between the two hottest guys at your school and you have no idea who to choose. loosely based off of operation: true love where geto is eunhyeuk and gojo is dohwa :)
a/n: sooooo satosugu won the poll so this is officially a satosugu x reader series! (just might be a bit of slowwww burnnn)
pairing: geto suguru x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader, satosugu x f!reader
tag list: @username23356-blog - @anxious-chick - @novacaneformybrain - @mandysfanfics - @rottmntrulesall - @voiceofnoreturn - @rh-tg1 - @ky0mybeloved - @black-swan-blog27 - @ladytamayolover - @the8ate - @maybe-a-bi-with - @dudalo100 - @reese-is-right - @6lonely-town6 - @its-a-damn-blue-brick - @kimi01985 - @dorusken - @siimp4youu - @catobsessedlady - @paper--angel - @animechick555 - @meshiinuma - @xxannyxx - @kaeyaviado - @kochochan-shinobulvrrs - @ichikanu - @valeriinee let me know if you'd like to added! also i still don't know how to fix the tags - it works in editing but doesn't link some when i post it. if anyone knows how to fix this, please let me know!
It was hot.
Blindingly so.
Still, you refused to take off your sweater even if you desperately wanted to. You were just thankful that your school allowed you to wear sweaters and hoodies over top of uniforms without getting in trouble for it and although normally that was something you only had to worry about in the winter, you had no choice but to today.
If you took off your sweater, then people would see the finger-sized marks across your arms from Sukuna yesterday and really, you just didn’t have the energy to deal with the questions that would inevitably follow. Nor did you want to… let it escalate any further. Sure, you’d managed to get away yesterday and had somehow gained the courage to make your breakup clear to Sukuna, but it didn't erase the fact that he’d scared you last night. And you didn’t want to imagine what would happen if somehow people got word that the bruises on your arms were from him.
It was over, anyways. You’d done it. You’d broken up with him and could now move on from him.
Move on with your life.
“You look hot,” Shoko comments from beside you, regarding you with a raised brow. “Why are you wearing a sweater when it’s blistering hot outside?”
Meeting her eyes, you shrug. “It isn’t that hot.”
“You’re sweating,” she deadpans.
Biting your lip, you choose to ignore the fact that she is very much correct. Your sweater is sticking to your skin from the obnoxious sun that is beating right over your head and the need to relieve some of the heat is more than tempting. But the sight of Sukuna running past you, meeting his dark and intimidating eyes just briefly, reminds you of why you’re keeping your sweater on.
“I just finished running,” you explain which, you guessed, wasn’t completely a lie. You were sweating because you’d just finished running but you were sweating a lot because of that and the fact that you were wearing a sweater… Shoko didn’t need to know that though.
Meeting her eyes from the corner of your own, you nod to yourself. “I’m actually a little cold.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Y-Yeah,” you breathe, fighting the urge to break under her intense stare. You didn’t even need to be looking directly at her to feel the intensity of it – if there was one thing Shoko was good at, it was seeing through your every lie. You figured that talent came with knowing you for as long as she had… still didn’t make it any less scary thought.
“Like a cold sweat.”
It’s clear she doesn’t believe you, the suspicious gaze in her eyes never wavering but she has the decency to leave it at that.
You’re incredibly thankful for that fact.
“So, you really did break it off with Ryoumen, huh?”
The two of you are standing by the bleachers while the boys have their turn playing soccer, as per your teachers instructions. The game has been going on for about five minutes now (you only just finally feeling like you’re not about to pass out) and you’ve been spending those five minutes idly chatting with Shoko and desperately trying not to ogle Geto who looks a little too good on the field right now.
Seriously, when did you start to find him attractive?
It wasn’t like you didn’t know he was attractive — of course you did. The whole female population of your school knew that Geto Suguru was attractive. You’re pretty sure he had his own little fanclub of girls that followed him around and you swear you’ve caught one of them asking him out in the hallway more times than you care to admit. So yes, objectively, you knew Geto was attractive. Incredibly attractive.
But you hadn’t really paid any of that mind until now.
It was like a fact. A statement. It hadn’t had any impact on you previously, and yet, here you were, practically drooling at the sight of him.
“–Hello? Y/N?”
A hand falls on your shoulder, the sudden touch making you jump as your eyes snap to Shoko. She’s staring back at you in concern, head tilted and brows furrowed as you blink over at her.
“I asked you a question?”
Had she?
Eyes briefly glancing back at Geto before focusing on her, you rub the back of your neck.
“Whoops,” you mumble bashfully, “sorry. What was it again? I… spaced out.”
Rolling her eyes, Shoko just snorts; “I asked if you really did break things off with Sukuna.”
“Oh!” Your eyes instantly brighten up, turning to face her fully. “I did!”
Shoko grins; “yes!” Pumping her fist in the air, she turns to you. “I’ve literally been waiting for you to do that forever.”
Rolling your eyes, you just snort. “I know, I know,” you wave her off, before pausing. You had no intention of telling her about how angry Sukuna had gotten, but it would be good to get it off your chest even a little. You just wouldn’t mention the bruise thing—besides, Shoko had said she wanted every little detail.
So, turning to her, you grin; “it was so awkward though and—”
“Shoko!”
Lips left parted in the middle of your sentence, both you and Shoko glance behind her, only to see a group of girls from another class waving at her to grab her attention. The excitement on your face fades somewhat at that, leaning back on your feet as Shoko waves back at them before glancing over at you apologetically,
“I—”
“It’s all good,” you brush off before she can apologize, waving her concern away. “Go. I’ll wait here for you.”
Shoko hesitates. “Are you sure?”
Shaking your head, you squeeze her shoulder; “of course. Go.”
With one more hesitant glance your way, Shoko nods, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before making her way over. You watch her for a moment longer before letting your eyes fall around, eyes momentarily meeting Sukuna’s and swiftly turning your head away, you move, making your way over to the bleachers on the side of the field. A few of the other girls from your class have sat down, chatting amongst themselves, and with nothing better to do, you take a seat near a corner, pulling your legs to your chest and opting to simply watch the boys.
You knew Shoko cared about you, just like you cared about her but it sucked knowing that some of the other girls wanted to be her friend but didn’t want to be yours. Anytime you’d tried to talk with her other friends before, it had just been awkward. And not something you wanted to repeat.
Sighing, you let your head fall on top of your knees.
At least you could watch Geto with no interruptions now.
“Boo!”
Or not…
Flickering your gaze to the right, your lips part when you realize it’s Gojo sitting beside you.
“Gojo!”
With a wide grin and a wink, Gojo offers you a wave.
You glance around before settling back on him, baffled. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh… here for gym class?” Gojo explains with a snort, using his thumb to point behind him and following his direction, your lips part when you see a group of girls occupying the field next to the one you’re sitting in front of. Focusing back on Gojo and the line sheen of sweat covering his skin, you put the pieces together.
“Oh,” your lips form a ‘o’, “I forgot other classes had gym at the same time as us.” Cheeks warming, you bite your lip, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in embarrassment.
Gojo takes a moment to eye you before laughing; “you’re weird, you know that?”
Lips parting in offense, you shove at his shoulder; “that’s rude!”
“No,” Gojo laughs, your shove barely moving him an inch, “what’s rude is you calling me Gojo.”
Confused, you turn to him; “is that not your name?”
“It is,” he assures, “but it’s too formal. I thought I made it clear; call me Satoru.”
You’re sure your face grows hot at that.
“B-But! That’s too friendly!” You argue, waving your hands in front of you widely. “We only just started talking and—”
“And we’re already close,” Gojo cuts in, smiling cheekily. “So what’s the problem?”
Shoulders slumping, you just frown at him. “You’re ridiculous.”
Gojo just takes the insult in stride, leaning in close so his face is right in front of yours. You instinctively lean back, surprised by his sudden closeness as you press against the side of the bleachers. It doesn’t seem to bother Gojo who only grows closer; you can feel his side press into your arm and his leg knock into your folded one, not to mention all you can see is those bright, beautiful blue eyes staring at you.
“U-um…—”
“And you’re adorable.”
Okay, now you’re sure you’re red in the face.
“G-Gojo–!”
“Satoru,” he cuts in, waving his finger at you. “Repeat after me. Sa-To-Ru.”
You stare back at him, wishing he’d back up even a little because he was too close and it was making you feel a way you didn't know how to react to. You’d already been sweating because of the damn sweater before, but now you probably look like a hot mess and your mind is running a mile a minute just to come up with something to say.
“Come on,” Gojo sings softly, voice low so only you can hear but still sweet and soft. “Say it.”
Lips parting, you ignore the racing of your heart; “Sa… Satoru.”
With a sudden jump, he’s pulled back, sitting up straight next to you as he grins wide, ear to ear; “see?” He exclaims, “that wasn’t so hard. It’s much better if you just call me by my first name, kay, Y/N?”
You’re frazzled. You know you’re frazzled. Even though Gojo has leaned back like you wanted him to, your heart is still racing and you feel flushed.
Was it just your imagination or had he also smelled really good?
“O-okay.”
Pleased by your answer, Gojo finally lets his eyes wander down, pausing when he sees what you’re wearing.
“Aren’t you warm?”
Oh god… not this again.
“No,” you deny with a shake of your head, hugging yourself. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Gojo just quirks a brow. “You look warm.” He states bluntly.
You huff — what was with everyone questioning you on wearing a damn sweater? Was it that hard to believe?
“For your information—”
You stop what you’re saying the second a shadow falls over you, completely blocking the sun from falling over you. Confused, you turn, only to pause when you see it’s Geto. You blink at the sight of him, confused, not having expected to see him, glancing over his shoulder to the field to see, like you thought, the rest of the boys are still playing and yet…
“Geto—”
“Did you bring my hoodie?”
His voice is harsh. Harsher than you expected. By the way he falters the second he meets your eyes properly, you figure he didn’t mean to sound that angry but you’re still confused as to why he even would be in the first place.
Was he upset you hadn’t given him the hoodie back earlier?
You also have not failed to notice how still Gojo is beside you suddenly.
“U-Um… Yeah, it’s in my bag. One sec.”
Reaching behind you to grab your bag, you’re oblivious to the way Gojo and Geto glare at each other, each with a certain fierceness and determination in their gaze before swiftly glancing away the second you turn back around.
“Here,” you call, smiling up at Geto as you extend his folded sweater to his awaiting hands. “I made sure it didn’t have any stains on it or anything after I washed, so it should be good. Thank you again for letting me borrow it.”
Geto’s face eases as he meets your eyes and he smiles softly; “it’s no problem. Thank you for washing it.” Then, as if almost an afterthought, he adds; “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer at your place to wait for it.”
You miss the way Gojo straightens at that.
“Oh, no!” You brush off, shaking your head. “I’m sorry you had to even give it to me in the first place.”
“Um,” Gojo cuts in, pulling your eyes on him with a blink as he shifts his gaze from Geto to you, offering you a somewhat tight-lipped smile. “Why did you have Geto’s hoodie in the first place?”
You’re a little confused as to why he cares, but—
“I accidentally spilled my soda on her and it made her shirt see-through and she was cold, so I offered it to her.”
Well, he didn’t need to go into that kind of detail—
“Oh?” Gojo asks, but something about his tone sounds strained and tense. “Is that so?”
Lips parting, you watch as the two of them glare at each other.
“U-um,” you speak up nervously, shifting forward; both of their eyes instantly fall on you, features softening. “Do you two… not like each other or something?”
The two glance at each other again.
Gojo’s the first to speak up; “not particularly.”
“We’ve never gotten along,” Geto elaborates. “That’s all.”
“I see…” You mumble, before your eyes brighten with a sudden idea; “well, hey! There's always a first, right?”
And the answer is clear to them both;
No way in hell.
Still, for you, they hesitate.
“Maybe,” Geto shrugs, brushing a bit of sweat off his forehead.
Gojo sighs dramatically; “if I’d have to.”
You’re oblivious to it all — eyes twinkling with excitement, you smile brightly. Truly, a brilliant idea has come to mind.
“Isn’t that amusement park opening up soon? I think… this weekend?” You ask, “you two should go together!”
Geto and Gojo frown at one another.
If there’s one thing the two of them can agree upon, it’s that that seems like the worst idea.
The two of them? Alone? At an amusement park?
What could honestly possess you to think that’s a good idea?
Geto, however, looks at you a moment later and smirks, clearly proud of himself; “I dunno about him, but I’d go with you.” And he sends a smug grin Gojo’s way, clearly thinking he’d effectively worked his way around not only having to disappoint you by saying no to your original idea but, getting you to go with him instead.
Gojo gasps, as if thoroughly offended.
“Really?” Your eyes brighten.
Geto smiles, nodding.
“Then let’s go!” You exclaim excitedly and Geto is just about to turn to Gojo with a victory smirk, before you add; “the three of us! When are you guys free next?”
Wait–what?
-
Geto is not really sure how he got himself into this situation.
Like really – how?
“She’s late.”
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Geto resists the urge to let his annoyance get the best of him. But really–truly–he was at his final straw.
“You’ve said that three times,” Geto grumbles, offering a quick glance beside him at the white-haired bastard that just couldn’t help but take you up on your offer. Then, imagine Geto’s surprise when he shows up at your agreed upon time just to see that you hadn’t shown up yet but Gojo had—and Geto’s pretty sure that the guy was normally late to everything. Late to class, late to tests, meetups, hangouts, etc. so of course it was just his luck that today is the day Gojo decides he’s going to show up on time.
And you aren’t.
Letting out a whine, Gojo pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against, moving until he’s directly beside Geto and the two of them are now staring out at the entrance way, waiting for you.
“It’s true, though,” Gojo mumbles, and Geto can distinctly see him pouting out of the corner of his eye. “She’s ten minutes late.”
Geto just huffs.
“What exactly is your problem?” Gojo asks instantly, and Geto can feel him shift to face him. “You’ve been glaring at me this entire time.”
Feeling that final straw snap, Geto spins to face Gojo in return, narrowed eyes focusing in on his own as Geto shakes his head. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
Gojo just laughs; “I was invited, wasn’t I?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Geto scoffs; “not by me.”
“Still butt hurt that Y/N invited me along?” Gojo taunts, looking entirely too smug as he steps closer to Geto. Gojo might be shorter, but only by an inch, and it isn’t hard for him to size Geto up just as easily as Geto is trying to size him up. “You think I’m all that happy about you being here either?”
“Then leave?” Geto questions, as if that was the obvious answer–which, obviously, it was. “I’m the one who asked Y/L/N first so really, you aren’t needed here whatsoever.”
Gojo just leans back; “if I left I’d be doing exactly what you want. Last I checked, Y/N does want me here.”
Feeling his head hurt and his body tense, Geto shoves at his shoulder; “what’s with the lack of formality? You refer to Y/L/N so casually, I didn’t realize you guys were that close.” Pausing in thought (for dramatic effect), Geto glowers at Gojo. “Last I checked, Y/L/N didn’t even know who you were before a couple days ago.”
“What?” Gojo raises a brow challengingly, “jealous we’re close enough that she calls me ‘Satoru’?” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, Gojo leans back. “She says it so prettily, too, don’t you think? I mean, I absolutely love the way she says my name.
He truly was unbelievable. Geto didn’t realize there could be someone who pissed him off so damn much… He’s never really liked the guy, and despite the fact that for most of his life Geto has unfortunately gone to the same school as Gojo, his level of hatred was reaching a height it never had before.
Before, Gojo was just some annoying guy Geto didn’t bother to pay attention to. Not if he didn’t have to.
He can still remember the way he’d felt seeing the two of you laughing and talking that day on the bleachers – Geto was positive that he’s never seen the two of you talk before and certainly not enough to warrant such a friendly interaction. If Geto hadn’t calmed himself down before, he was sure he’d have made a fool out of himself when he interrupted the two of you but taking the calm approach seemed to have it’s rewards and Geto will never forget the look of stunned disbelief on Gojo’s face when you handed him his hoodie.
He’d definitely have to give you his clothes more – this time, have you wear them where everyone could see.
And then he’d thought he’d perfectly worked his way around your silly suggestion of hanging with Gojo – and then you just had to go and invite Gojo with the two of you?
Geto didn’t realize you could be so oblivious.
Honestly—he’d told himself he’d try to play nice with Gojo, for you. Even if Gojo was there, it didn’t change Geto’s plan of trying to woo you and catch your attention. If Gojo wanted to hang back as a third wheel then that was his choice, Geto wasn’t going to let that stop him from making a move on you.
But really, he was at his limit.
He couldn’t even think of ‘playing nice’ with Gojo when he was this egotistical.
Inhaling sharply, Geto moves to take a step towards Gojo, Gojo straightening out in response, before your familiar voice calls out;
“Ooh! I’m so sorry!”
Both Geto and Gojo freeze at the sound of your voice, eyes shifting to fall on you as you come to a slow step before them. You’re panting, pressing a hand to your chest as you try to catch your breath, making it clear you’d run here, but what really catches Geto’s attention is what you’re wearing.
A flowery, pink sundress. It had cute puffy sleeves and the material bunched around your chest with a bow, with the length of the skirt stopping just above your knees. It swayed gently in the wind, brushing upwards to show the faintest hint of your upper thighs. The whole outfit was put together with some accessories, cute sandals and a hairstyle Geto had never seen you wear at school before.
Geto, despite himself, feels his cheeks grow pink, a flush hitting him as he quickly glances away from you to situate himself. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought you were pretty before (that was abundantly clear given his actions) but it was a little different seeing you in something other than your school uniform. And, technically, the arcade hadn’t counted—given that he’d dumped soda all over your blouse before he could properly take in what you were wearing.
A quick glance at Gojo tells him his reaction isn’t that much different.
“My mom needed my help with something and I completely lost track of time!” You explain, turning to them with a worried expression as you finally manage to catch your breath properly. “Were you guys waiting for long?”
“Not at all–!”
“No–!”
Lips left parted, Geto glares at Gojo out of the corner of his eye—Gojo returns it with ease.
“O-Oh,” you mumble, briefly glancing at the both of them in confusion before taking a step towards them. “Well, then… should we get going?”
Without hesitation, Geto steps forward before Gojo has the chance to and flashes a soft smile in your direction; “let’s go.”
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#getou suguru x reader#getou suguru#geto suguru x reader#satosugu#satosugu x reader#gojo x reader#getou x reader#otl#operation: true love
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"I've got you"
a/n: I love Charlie Kenton sm, he deserves more love. Also, I haven't written an X reader fic in like 10 years forgive me.
Prompt: Charlie gets his ass kicked, thankfully he has you to patch him up! Words: 2,975 Tags: gn!reader, post movie, hurt/comfort, Charlie is very dog coded to me and I don't know how to tag things anymore
You could have never guessed your day to go like this. Work had been boring as all hell. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting to hang out with those you cared about most over at Tallets Gym. Bailey was basically your closest friend at this point. She was kind and caring but could always match your energy- especially if that energy was being angry with Charlie. Speaking of Charlie, seeing him was always one of the best parts of your day. Even when he was being an idiot, or impulsive, or both- he always knew how to put a smile on your face. Which was much needed after a boring day at work. You even looked forward to seeing Max most days. The kid was the spitting image of his father when it came to personality, which definitely had its downsides. Max was probably the most independent eleven-year-old you’ve ever met- he was always determined to do stuff by himself. Even if he ended up asking you or Bailey for help in the end. Things were never boring with the Kentons.
Today would be no exception.
Your phone rang mere moments before you were about to park in front of the rundown gym.
“Hel-” You started, but were quickly cut off by the sound of your good friend Bailey in a panic.
“Charlies hurt.” “What?” “Max just called, and he’s freaking out-” You could hear her voice quicken on the other end.
“Slow down Bail, where are they?” “Some gas station twenty minutes outside of town, they were on their way back from a fight and-” She gave you a few more vague responses, clearly not sure of the situation herself, but that was okay. You could work with that. There weren’t that many gas stations on that side of town, plus it would be hard to miss Charlie’s massive green truck.
–
Ten minutes, and a few potential road laws broken, later- you finally spotted the truck. You pulled up next to them, attempting to not fully slam on your brakes. Your panic had slowly grown over the last few moments, and panicked driving is not a good idea.
Tossing the door open in a quick motion, you stepped out and ran over to see Charlie sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Max was next to him, holding a makeshift ice pack to his face.
“How’s he doing?” You plant your feet in front of them, doing your best to keep your arms at your side to not fret over him. At the sound of your voice, Max looked over with a smile. Charlie attempted to look at you, but winces the moment he tried to open his eyes.
“I’m fine- just a black eye.” Charlie replied weakly, still unable to fully open his eyes.
“He might need stitches this time.” Max’s smile fades, returning to a worried expression.
“Let me see.” Max nods before jumping off of the tailgate, making room for you to take his place. You carefully move to sit next to him, close enough for your legs to touch. You reach a hand up to his face, slowly peeling away the ice pack. It took everything in you to not visibly tense at the rather nasty wound on his face. Whoever beat him up this time actually used a weapon, brass knuckles, if you’d have to guess. He had a large gash right next to his eyebrow, reaching almost to his ear, as well as a black eye and numerous other bruises all over his neck. You can only imagine the amount of bruises he was hiding on the skin you couldn’t see. “Yeah…that’s going to scar. Where’s your first aid kit?”
“Don’t have one…” He mumbled.
“Come again?” You can’t help but sigh, “With how much you get beat up-”
He avoids your glare and refuses to respond, which is Charlie for ‘You’re right, but I will not admit it’. With a slight roll of your eye, you reach into your back pocket with your free hand and take out your wallet to hand to Max. “They should have bandages, or at least some cotton balls I can use to stop the bleeding. Grab what you can- if nothing else, your dad can save it for later.”
The kid nodded as he took your wallet before running back into the gas station. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea to just hand your wallet to an eleven-year-old, but you knew Max would at least grab what you asked- even if he came back with a few extra snacks.
Seconds after he left your eye-line, you heard Charlie suck in a sharp breath. The sound caused your full attention to turn back to the man next to you. He was no longer sitting upright, but instead leaning on the side of the truck as if the metal wall was the only thing holding him upright. You were quick to notice the stiffness in his shoulders was far worse than a few seconds ago, and you didn’t have to ask why to know what was going on in his head.
“Char, the kid just watched you get your ass kicked- again. You don’t have to act all tough. Hell your face is bleeding like some kind of horror movie victim. He knows that you’re not alright.” It broke your heart to see him like this. He was always putting on a front of the big strong unfeeling douchebag, but you knew better. You also knew better than to question it. Max was a strong kid, but he was still just a child. No kid should have to watch this dad getting beat up as much as Charlie did. You moved your hand from his face to his shoulder, using your thumb to rub soothing motions in a small attempt to comfort him.
“How’d you get here so fast?” He questioned, completely avoiding your concerned comments.
“Max called Bailey. Bailey called me. Here I am.” You moved your free hand up to his face, attempting to inspect the wound a bit more. Fingers lightly holding his chin, making it easier for you to move his head if needed. He couldn’t help but lean into the small touches. “I think I still have some pizza in the car. It’ll be cold by now though.”
He let out a light chuckle, mouth struggling to turn into a smile without pain. “Maybe when my face is done bleedin’ out.”
You smile at him, grateful to hear that his sense of humor was still intact. The moment he winces again, your smile falls. “What the hell happened?”
“Just some assholes that I used to owe money to, what else-” He pouts, “I would have been able to our run em but-”
“Max…”
He didn’t have to even look at you for you to understand what he meant. From what Bailey had told you in the past, getting his ass kicked out of the ring was nothing new for Charlie. He was constantly coming back to the gym with cuts and bruises, and the occasional broken bone, but ever since he regained custody of his son, he’s tried to be a lot more careful. He had always been reckless and almost uncaring when it came to what happened to him, but now he had someone to protect. Thankfully, the Atom fights had helped pay off practically every debt he had ever owed, but there were still some people who had it out for him that couldn’t give less of a shit if his son was watching or not.
The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck, before you carefully pulled him closer to you. You positioned his head to rest comfortably on your shoulder. Your other arm snaked around his back, holding him in a secure hug. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”
Your hushed tone was all he needed to melt completely into your hold. His face hid in the crook of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping him in one piece. His arms found their way around you, holding onto the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. Charlie Kenton was many things. He was a boxer who had seen his fair share of violence, as well as a man who routinely went to shady places for robot fights, but he was also a father who had no idea what he was doing. To him, there was nothing more terrifying than the idea of his son watching him bleed out (and potentially die). Whoever had attacked him this time didn’t hold back. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to make it out in one piece.
He was in pain and scared shitless, but you were there. You kept him grounded, like you always knew what to do or say to keep his anxieties at bay. You were his rock, and he was yours. The two of you had this unspoken thing that not even Bailey dared to bring up to either of you. You could feel your shoulder becoming damn, from both tears and the blood from his wound- but you didn’t care. The stains would come out, and even if you ended up having to throw the shirt away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man quietly sobbing in your arms.
He would never admit it, but Charlie cried a lot. Never in front of you or anyone else, but you’d always catch him silently crying to himself in the middle of the night. You knew that Bailey and Max were aware, but all three of you knew better than to mention it to him. Anytime that you gathered the nerve to ask him if he was alright in the middle of his crying session, he’d just yell at you to go away. You knew he never meant to actually yell at you. Normally he’d even apologize the next morning with a vague ‘sorry about last night’ while avoiding any actual questions about whatever he had been upset about. But right now, he didn’t care. There was nothing he needed more than you.
—
Time passed by in a small blur. The only sound you could hear was Charlie’s heavy breathing finally beginning to regulate itself to the sound of your light humming. His arms were still wrapped around you, but the grip on your shirt had loosened. You still had one arm around his back, the other had found its way to his hair- playing with the short brown strands.
“I got some stuff!” Max’s sudden voice startled you both. You turned your head in his direction to see that his hands were filled with an assortment of bandaid boxes, a bag of cotton balls, and a few snacks that he bought with your money (which you fully expected would happen). Charlie’s body went stiff under your arm at the sound of his son’s voice, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “This is all they had.”
“Thanks kiddo,” you smiled at him. The arm around Charlie’s middle let go, so you could reach out for the ‘medical’ supplies. He silently mourned the loss of the touch the second you let go. You placed the items next to you before your gaze returned to Max. “Why don’t you sit up front and update Bailey, tell her we’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll get to work patching up your dad’s apparently very punchable face.”
It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Max still smiled. Charlie made a mental note to thank you later for the small attempt at saving what was left of his pride. Thankfully, Max obliged and left to go sit in the front seat, giving you two a bit of privacy.
Using both your hands, you carefully lifted his head off of your shoulder. He made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled him from his safe spot. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. You held his face in between your palms as you examined his face one more time. His eyes were a little swollen from the crying, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The adrenaline must have finally worn off.
“Okay, I’ll do what I can, but I’m taking you to actually get this checked out first thing in the morning.”
“Fine by me.” his words were beginning to slur together. Something told you that you’d be the one driving the truck back to town tonight. It would be safer to leave your old car than the massive truck holding one of the most popular boxing robots at the moment.
Your humming continued as you cleaned up the drying blood from his cheek. There was only so much you could do with the limited items (and skill) you had, but you stayed focused. With the bleeding stopped and wiped away, the wound wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. It would still leave a nasty scar, but it was small enough that a trip to an actual medical professional could wait. As you worked, you could feel Charlie’s head become heavy in your hands.
“You falling asleep on me?” You teased lightly.
“mmmno.” It was more of a noise than an actual word.
“Almost done, big guy. Then you’re welcome to crash on your little cot back there.” Between the warmth of your hands, the soft touches, and your quiet humming as you worked- Charlie was practically melting. Bailey and you liked to joke that he was like a dog sometimes, from the bursts of impulsive energy, to the unapologetic joy over the smallest things, and of course his mastery of the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that he often used on you and Bailey to get what he wanted. He would always scoff or roll his eyes whenever you would tease him or whenever you called him a dog. You couldn’t help it, especially at times like this- with his eyes comfortably closed and melting into your every touch. It was adorable, despite the fact that you were actively cleaning up a wound.
“Can’t sleep yet-” His body betrayed his words by interrupting his sentence to let out a yawn. “Gotta drive back.”
“Not like this, you’re not. I’ll drive.” Driving the truck wasn’t your favorite, but you have done it before. As long as you didn’t get pulled over, you could drive it home without a problem. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed before you actually pass out on me.”
With a light pat to his cheek, he dutifully allowed you to help him stand. His head immediately seeking your shoulder to lean on again. He was taller than you, but still seemed perfectly comfortable once he found the crook of your neck again. You blamed the blood loss and the crying for how touchy he was being. It’s not that he wasn’t a touchy person. He had a lack of personal space with those he was close to, but this was different. For a second, you questioned if this was even beyond him seeking you out as a source of comfort.
Ignoring the swirl of worry and emotions you had yet to even fully admit to yourself, in your stomach, you carefully led him over to the cot inside the truck. You gave him a small nudge to sit down. He listened with only a small sound of complaint. The disappointment was short-lived. You could almost see ears perk up the moment you returned to sit by his side.
“Thanks…for doing all this.” Standing must have woken him a little. His voice was much clearer than it was a few seconds ago.
“It’s not like I was going to let you bleed out.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile across your lips, as you finished putting the last bandaid on his face. It was a haphazard job, but it would do the trick- at least for a few hours.
“I know. Glad to have you on my side is all.” Your eyes moved from the collection of bandages to his eyes, feeling a little shocked by the genuine emotion they held. Charlie didn’t have a lot of people to count on. You knew that better than anyone.
“I’m happy to patch you up anytime.” Your hands left the sides of his face where you had been diligently working, moving down to find his hands. He took the hint and intertwined your fingers, giving them a light squeeze. The two of you were bonded, neither wanting to question of risk actually talking about what that bond was. You were waiting for him to say something, and he was in between being far too chicken shit and waiting for you. So many days spent dancing around either other like this. You knew, even now, that neither of you would mention the softness and tenderness from tonight’s interaction. He’d go to sleep as you drove him, and he’d wake up not remembering much of the night in the first place. Still you sat with him, foreheads pressed together, basking in each other’s company.
“I gotta take you home, Char.” You whispered, not wanting to leave this moment yet. His grip on your hand tightened, but he still allowed you to pull away.
“Tomorrow, let me take you to dinner.” His voice wasn’t as quiet as yours, but it was even more unsure of itself. Speaking before thinking, as always, but looking deep into your eyes this time. “As…thanks.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the offer. The two of you went out for dinner alone all the time, but something about this felt different. You gave his hand one final squeeze and planted a small kiss on his cheek before standing up. “It’s a date.”
#charlie kenton#real steel#charlie kenton x reader#hugh jackman x reader#fic writing#I guess I'm doing fics now
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Pretty Liar | LN4 (Patreon exclusive)
― Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader ― Word count: 5.6k ― Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol; +18! graphic description of sex (p in v, oral - both, fem and male receiving). ― Summary: Ever since Lando was a kid he knew his future would bring fame somehow, always involved with racing and having just what it needed to become a Formula 1 driver, he was happy with everything it entailed, up until said future became his present and he realized there was also a rough side to the fame. That’s why, when he found you – someone who had no idea who he was, he kept his career from you. He would tell you, and he would eventually clarify the situation, he had it all planned, however, all it took was one week. One week for you to discover that what you thought started as a beautiful story, was actually a perfectly told lie. Lando was pretty, but he was also a liar. Now he had to find a way to explain everything, and you had to find it in you to forgive him.
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Some scientists believe that it takes around ten minutes for an average person to make an everyday decision. Yet, the moment Yn’s eyes met Lando’s, and he smiled at her, she knew they would go home together that night, and this exchange took less than a second.
His face seemed familiar, but she couldn’t remember where. She thought maybe it was from an old Instagram post their friends in common had made. Maybe they saw each other in a pub before. The city wasn’t that big, their crowds were similar, and they were both young.
Lando seemed surprised with the news, “You don’t…know me?”
“Should I?” Yn asks, quirking her eyebrows with a glimmer of humor in her stare.
He shook his head before Oliver, their common friend, could say something, “Nah, it’s just…I’m a DJ, I thought maybe you had seen something about me around a party you know?!”
Yn bit her lower lip, chuckling. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you must be a great DJ, but I’ve never heard of a Lando Norris before.”
“Now I’m hurt,” the Brit turned to their friend, and Oliver’s laugh boomed around.
That was how their first interaction went, with both aware of the tension line being pulled. Lando had never seen someone match his energy like she did, and Yn had never felt that giddy with a guy before. When someone grabbed Oliver away, the speakers gave space to a remixed tune of Zedd and Yn asked what Lando was playing that night, or if he was playing at all.
He smiled at her showing the small gap between his teeth which she decided was one of her favorite features of his, after his eyes, “It depends. What do you want me to play?”
“Oooh, smooth, I like it!” she giggled, taking a sip of her drink, and using the seconds to breathe in some air. “Would you mind playing Rihanna?”
“Most recent ones or oldies?”
“Around 2010s would be perfect.”
“I know exactly the song,” he announced like a promise, and Yn nodded, grabbing his hand, lacing their fingers, and starting to head in the direction of the bar. It would be an hour or so until the pub’s DJ finished his thing.
“Do you wanna drink something?” Yn stopped to say in his ears now that the song seemed much louder and so did the crowd. Lando’s free hand grabbed her waist, and he shouted back that he had just grabbed his refill, but he was fine going with her.
Truth was, Lando didn’t even like the bar area that much, drunk people would tend to gather there sometimes, spill their alcohol, scream, and try creating scenes, but something about Yn’s eyes would make him follow her to hell, and they had just met. That felt a tad scary, but he wouldn’t think too much about it, trying to focus his mind on Danny’s words about enjoying the butterflies, enjoying the naivety, and enjoying the nerves that came with it.
**********************
“I still gotta learn how to bake properly.”
“We could try together. I know a thing or two about sugary recipes,” she suggested. “Meanwhile, you cook the main dish and I make the dessert—” she stopped mid-sentence, putting the palm of her hand on her forehead. “We forgot about dessert, Lan!”
But the pilot can only grin, watching in awe as her lips pout slightly.
“I didn’t.”
“What do you mean?” her tone started with a confused hint, but when their eyes met and Yn caught the way his gaze drifted across her body like a caress bringing a shiver along. Her legs instinctively crossed in search of the slight tinge of pressure.
“Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” his grin was wicked, and the way his head pointed to the space in front of him at the table almost made Yn whimper. Lando pushed the plate and glass to the side, watching as Yn got up and walked to him. The noises of the city came through the open windows, just like the cold wind, creating the perfect harmony with the way her bare steps hit the ground, the slight sound coming from it.
The legs of Lando’s chair scraped on the ground when he pushed it just a tiny bit to make room for Yn. She sat on his lap, legs on either side of him, caging him in place, and giving him the feeling of her bare cunt against his dress pants.
“Aren’t you wearing anything under the dress?” he asked, mocking shock on his expression.
Yn merely shook her head, “It would just ruin it anyway.”
And just like that cooking conversations and random subjects were long forgotten, their lips smashed together in a heated kiss, and Yn moaned into his mouth when Lando gripped her waist and guided her movements on top of him, his cock hardening with each motion.
*****************
“Come in my mouth,” she rasped, it sounded like a plea, and Lando couldn’t help but give it to her. At that moment he would give her anything and everything she asked for. The way her eyes blinked at him from between his legs, mascara a bit smudged on her cheeks, lips swollen from sucking, she looked like an angel.
And he couldn’t deny an angel its request.
So when her mouth enveloped him again, cheeks hollowing and tongue twirling Lando gripped the table, hips buckling slightly and body finally succumbing to pleasure. He watched as his cum leaked from her mouth, his dick still spurting the white liquid and making it land on her chin and collarbone.
Yn grinned up at him, licking her lips.
He scooped cum from her chin using his finger and she eagerly opened her mouth, sucking his thumb and smiling up at him again. At that moment, he wanted them to be intimate enough, so he could grab a camera and save that image. Frame it. Store it under locks. Have it with him forever. Something about the way she looked and what they had just done stirred his insides again.
“Can I have mine now?” he scooped more cum this time from her collarbone and Yn nodded, parting her lips to him again.
────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this piece. I've been meaning to write a long piece for Lan for a while now, and it felt good to put this together, I'm looking forward to writing more for him, let me know if you wanna see it! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia) for proofreading and beta-reading this (Ily, Dee!).
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Not to get too into it, because to be honest I don't enjoy thinking about the bill book, but what with the panel being tomorrow/today it's on my mind right now anyway. So lets get a teensy bit into it.
The subject at hand: The giant back and forth block quote dialogues in the missing journal pages section.
I think we can all admit that's weird. To call it "significantly weird" would likely be a matter of disagreement, but it's definitely weird. Ford didn't write like that in J3.
But the thing about it is... It's not just weird in a vacuum.
It's weird and also paired with the context of the last however many pages before the journal ones having been essentially Bill's memoirs/biography/whatever.
Bill has been talking our ears off about himself for an entire book, and suddenly we get to these journal pages where it is for some reason of the utmost importance to quote every bit of dialogue Bill is delivering. It takes up several entire pages, over and over again. None of that was something that could've been paraphrased or otherwise condensed in some way?
While it is true that Ford had a lot of reverence for Bill pre-betrayal, I don't think it went so far as for him to feel he must record every word Bill said to him like this. (And continue to do so post betrayal as well?) Within Journal 3 proper, we don't even get a single quote in general from Bill until Ford details his time in the nightmare realm after his return.
I don't think Ford thought the journals needed all these direct quotes of Bill's in them. I think Bill does.
I think Bill's been screaming "pay attention to me!" for an entire book, and now you're gonna have to sit through his full set of remarks in these journal pages, because his thoughts and ideas and words are just that important. So important that he needed to insert them where they were never actually written down.
It could be that he genuinely said some of it, and wanted you, the reader, to 1) know that he said it and 2) know exactly how he said it. Some of it might be things he said but paraphrased or edited in that sort of "And then I said [xyz]" way people do when they tell stories. And maybe some of it he's just completely made up. I think there's probably a mix/assortment of all of these going on. But regardless of what of it is true and what isnt, I don't think any of it was ever in the journals.
.
Though I do admittedly have a stance on one "quote", and it's that Bill supposedly being the one who first said "Trust no one" has real "Yeah, I taught him that" energy. Like oh, I'm sorry. Ford's famous quote was actually yours first, Bill? The big quote central to the big mystery element of Gravity Falls and heavily affecting the attitude of the main character was one you came up with, not Ford? Sure, pal.
#bob investigations#im very sleepy#these always seem to be when im sleepy or hungry#maybe part of me jsut likes being incoherent#long post
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At Sea Without a Map Post-Script
After two months of so, my little writing experiment At Sea Without a Map has come to an end. And because I'm vain, I not only felt compelled to share it, but to talk about it in depth after the fact, so here we are. This is going to be long, though, so I'm not only going to break it into sections, but put it all under the cut for the sake of your dashboard. So go ahead and dive into the depths of the Sea of Monsters with me one more time!
Part 1: Never Stop Blowing Up
The writing process of Wizard School Mysteries Book 3 was really strained - not because of the book itself, mind you. When I was actually able to work on it, Book 3 came together really well - I think it required the least substantial rewrites of any my novels thus far. It's just that real life was kind of beating the shit out of me while I was trying to get it done - or maybe the better metaphor was that it was just slowly but steadily draining me of energy all the time. I'm honestly surprised I got the book out in roughly the same amount of time as the first two - by the way life had been treating me, it should have taken longer.
But when I got done with it I was accutely aware of how tired I was. I still had the creative drive, but fuck I needed something simple as a palette cleanser - something easy, and more importantly, something that was allowed to be bad. I needed something creative to do that was surplus to requirements and fully within its rights to suck ass so long as I had fun making it.
Around this time, I decided to rewatch Dimension 20's Never Stop Blowing Up. Brief explanation of what that is: Dimension 20 is an actual play show, i.e. a recording of people playing D&D and other TTRPGs. I'd say its reputation is built on the contrast of its main DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who makes these meticulously crafted campaign plans, and his chaotic band of improv comedian players who promptly derail those plans spectacularly. Like, a good deal of the show's humor comes from Emily Ashford or Ally Beardsly doing something so off-the-wall that it shatters whatever the scene was going to be and creates a far more absurd and zany spectacle in its place. Which is why Never Stop Blowing Up is pretty notable, because it's the one campaign where Brennan himself is the agent of chaos, fully unleashing his own brand of madness that the players struggle to keep up with. And fuck does he seem to have fun with it.
Of course, all of the analysis above is purely from the outside looking in - it's likely that a lot of the "chaos" is played up for the audience. But still... there is something to the idea of a person who's been working on meticulously structured stories letting loose and just doing something extremely stupid.
So I decided to give myself a Never Stop Blowing Up moment - a short story that would be simple by design, with no standards to live up to or goal beyond "have fun telling a silly little story." I then came up with a few key criteria:
It can't be set in the Midgaheim/ATOM universe. I don't want the burden of figuring out where this story would fit among others.
It's gotta be a romance. People who've read my books might have picked up on the fact that I like to write about people falling in love, for the same reason I like to write about fire-breathing reptiles and friendly monsters (i.e. I use writing to indulge in things I'll never experience in real life). I've only used romance as subplots in my fiction before, and tend to feel a bit guilty if I focus on it too long - like I'm being self indulgent. Well, this is all about self indulgence, so the romance should be front and center.
It's gotta be SIMPLE, episodic even. Not complex plotting required.
I almost chose my xenomorph romance for this, but I had developed its outline to the point where it would be too complex to fit. I then considered a sort of superhero story that could be pitched as "what if Bringing Up Baby but Katherine Hepburn's character is a Harley Quinn-esque supervillain and Cary Grant's character gets turned into some sort of horrifying genetic mutant in the first ten minutes." That one hit a weird roadblock when I got to the character brainstorming phase (the first phase of any writing project I do) - I was trying to figure out what the mad scientist who turns out Cary Grant-figure into a mutant would be named, came up with the name "Dr. Skullfuck," immediately realized that having a character named "Dr. Skullfuck" is a Mark Millar-ass writing move that I could not allow myself to do, but then couldn't stop thinking of the name "Dr. Skullfuck" and giggling, which just brought all thinking to a grinding halt on that project.
(I'll still probably do it someday, though - just, you know, without Dr. Skullfuck)
Inspiration struck again, though. I'd been getting into Epic: The Musical, a musical retelling of The Odyssey, and it put me in the mood for a sea monster story. But, more than that, it got me thinking about one particular archetype from sea monster stories - but that brings us to the next part of this Post Script...
Part 2: It Was Always About Calibani
Ok, so, one of the big changes Epic: The Musical made involved Odysseus's encounter with the sirens, and before you read more of my rambling, I'd like you to watch two animatics for the two songs in question here:
youtube
youtube
A summary: one of the sirens takes the form of Odysseus's wife to try and tempt him into getting in the water, Odysseus tricks her into giving him directions, captures her and the rest of her kind, and proceeds to have his men slaughter them horribly. In the OG story the sirens don't die - nor does their song involve imitating a man's wife, for that matter, it's just a really pretty song.
This is done for an important narrative purpose - Epic: The Musical is focused on analyzing the moral ambiguity of Odysseus, and how it is constantly challenged by the impossible choices he is forced to make in his attempt to get home. At this point in the musical, Odysseus has decided to stop trying to be a compassionate man, shirking all mercy in favor of utter ruthless pursuit of his goals. These two songs are meant to be unsettling as hell - this is the beginning of a series of heartless choices by both Odysseus and his men that will culminate in the mutiny and complete annihilation of Odysseus's crew, as well as Odysseus himself being so hopelessly stranded that nothing short of divine intervention will save him.
I bring this up because when I first heard these two songs - specifically while watching these two animatics - it, like... it devastated me. I was so horrified and sad, so shaken by it. And part of it was for the reasons outlined above, but admittedly that wasn't the gut reaction I had. No, my immediate reaction was, and I quoute my own broken brain verbatim here: "You can't kill the sirens! They're not for killing, they're for loving!"
...now, those of you who know me are probably not surprised by this very stupid sentiment coming from me. One of my more popular posts is just me talking about how down bad I would be for various folkloric monsters whose whole shtick is "looks like a pretty lady but Watch Out." But as a person filled with immense self loathing and doubt, my brain immediately looked at that very stupid sentiment I expressed and said, "Wait, no, that's fucking dumb, I'm fucking dumb. The sirens are remorseless murderers. These sirens in particular preyed upon a man's love for his wife, who he has not seen in twelve years, to convince him to let them kill him. They are, by all standards of morality, Very Fucking Evil, and if they were not women you would not feel bad about them getting killed."
And as my brain argued with itself over this topic, I got to thinking about the various monstrous/othered sea women of The Odyssey - not just the sirens, but the witch Circe, the nymph Calypso, the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. And I thought about the others of their kind in other myths and folktales - selkies, mermaids, etc.
There's an archetype of sea monster that focuses entirely on one specific anxiety sailors are prone to, namely the fact that (for a good deal of human history) being on a boat meant spending a lot of time away from women. The horror of this monster is how it uses that desire for female company to tempt people into danger - like a mirage, it leads you to expose yourself to danger in pursuit of an illusory comfort.
But, unlike real world mirages, these monstrous sea women DO exist in their stories. More than that, they're often, like, sad and lonely. Their narrative purpose is just to be a temptation, but that doesn't change the fact that they do have lives of their own in these worlds. And, softie that I am, I can't help feeling sad for them, especially the ones who actually seem to want the same companionship the sailors they tempt want. Sailors don't stay with their Circes, they don't marry their Calypsos. The sirens live on a barren rock, alone, Scylla is left to wallow in misery at her monstrous form, and the selkie always has to leave for fear of being trapped by a person who won't love her on her terms.
I realized I had my hook for this simple, easy, silly little sea monster romance story: I was going to give a sea woman the happy ending she'd never get from anyone else.
Sailor may be the protagonist, but make no mistake: At Sea Without a Map was always, always, ALWAYS about Calibani.
The goal with Calibani was simple: I was going to set up a fairly standard Monstrous Sea Woman, but where other stories would let her be in one episode of the travel narrative and move on, this one would stick around. She'd be an unambiguous predator of human beings - an open and admitted maneater - but she would have no true malice to her. She, like all predators, eats what she can get to survive, and it just so happens that she's adapted to eat humans. And the story would pose the same question to the reader that my brain posed to me during Different Beast: is there any way you could make a siren-style sea monster sympathetic? Can you make a normal person who doesn't have my particular brain rot look at a maneating siren and think, "You're not supposed to kill her, you're supposed to love her!"
One of the few unavoidable plot points of At Sea Without a Map was that Calibani and Sailor's relationship would become romantic. What kind of romance it was could have varied substantially - it could have been one-sided, it could have been toxic, it could have been far more tragic OR far more comedic. But it was always, always going to be a romance of some sort - the goal of this experiment was to make you, the reader, love Calibani. All else was icing on the cake.
I decided to base Calibani's personality on Miranda from The Tempest - i.e. a sweet girl who is both wordly and naive, who understands the strange setting of our "lost at sea" story far better than the audience viewpoint character does, but views the mundane world of the audience viewpoint character with wonder and naiveté. In fact I almost named her Miranda outright... except I already had a character in the setting I chose for this story who had that name, and as an allusion to the same Shakespearean character no less. So I settled on naming her after Miranda's adoptive sibling (of sorts), Caliban - more fitting in some ways, as Caliban is a fish-human hybrid who is arguable more native to the magic island in The Tempest than Miranda herself.
(Calibani isn't the only Tempest name homage, either - her mother, Sycorax, takes her name directly from Caliban's unseen but oft-spoken of witch mother. Dr. Antonia Warefore takes her first name from Antonio, one of the human villains in The Tempest who hopes to use being lost at sea as a way to perform a coup. And the mothman Iriel takes her name from Ariel, the wind spirit in The Tempest who aids the wizard Prospero in controlling the magic island. If Sailor has a "real" name, it's probably either Ferdinand or Miranda, the two lovers who manage to blend civilization and the wilderness together with their romance.)
Visually, I wanted Calibani to not be any common archetype of sea monster woman, but rather something that evokes the popular images while still being her own thing. She's not a mermaid or a siren or a selkie - she's basically "what if a sea serpent was also a girl." In-universe, she's chubby because she, like all marine megafauna, needs blubber to survive. Out-of-universe, she's chubby because I've found that routinely drawing cute chubby girls is good for my mental health.
Part 3: CYOA
Now, while we live in a post-Muncher society where shame and cringe are emotions only the cowardly should experience, I am nonetheless Very Catholic about expressing my own feelings of, like, liking girls and shit. I cannot help feeling guilty when publicly expressing adoration of women without, like, an excuse - it's gotta be a joke or something, you know? I can't be genuine about it, or else Jesus will beat me with a cane for disrespecting women with my lecherous gaze.
But luckily I've cultivated a loyal audience of fellow monsterfuckers, which meant I had an excuse lined up: if I made this a choose your own adventure type deal, a story with audience participation, then you all would be my accomplices. And Jesus can't cane all of us! He doesn't have enough hands! I found a loophole bigger than his stigmata!
Plus I love collaborative story-telling - there's a thrill in not having total control of where the narrative is going. As Brennan Lee Mulligan must know, there's a joy in having to deal with the chaos thrown your way by letting others grab the figurative ball, even if just for a moment.
Part 4: Offbeat Melody
Since I did not want to set this story in Midgaheim, I decided to steer myself away from a vaguely medieval setting altogether. But I also didn't want to limit myself with the need for "realism" that putting it in a normal sea would require, and making a new setting whole cloth would start pushing this project into "not easy" territory.
Luckily, I had a setting lying around that I hadn't played with in a while, which just so happened to have a location that was PERFECT for the sort of Never Stop Blowing Up style madness I was aiming for. For a few years I ran a Monster of the Week TTRPG campaign called Offbeat Melody, and one of its core setting elements was taking the goblin universe hypothesis in paranormal science (yeah it's a real hypothesis) to an illogical extreme. We had specifically seen glimpses of the Sea of Monsters in Offbeat Melody, i.e. the parallel universe where monsters like Nessie, Ogopogo, Champ, and the like all hail from. Well, why not have a whole story set there? It's literally a universe devoted solely to creating sea monsters - what better place to strand our modern Odysseus?
Offbeat Melody was always sort of a Never Stop Blowing Up project, or at least NSBU adjacent. Some of my most unhinged story-telling moments are in that campaign - you could make a supercut of just the "commercial breaks" in the various sessions and it'd basically be an I Think You Should Leave episode. Taking one obscure corner of its multiversal world and exploring it in detail was perfect for this project.
Part 5: Monster by Monster
With our main romance as sorted out as could be for a CYOA story, it was time to figure out the "episodes" of this sea voyage. I settled on there being ten to roughly align with The Odyssey - just in terms of number, mind you, not in a one-to-one comparison. The first was, obviously, Calibani herself, which left nine more slots for me to fill with monsters. Let's go through them together in brief:
Tree Storks - any lost at sea story eventually has to get its protagonist into an island at some point, but this immediately begs the question, "Why don't they just stay on the island where it's safe?" The answer to that question has to be, "it's not safe there, actually." The Odyssey does this quickly and cleverly with a one two punch: the first island seems safe until you realize the food on it brainwashes you into forgetting everything except your desire to eat it, and the second island is full of delicious sheep but also giants who will eat you just as easily as they eat the sheep. When other islands show up in the story later, you immediately regard them with suspicion, because you don't know HOW they're going to be fucked up, but they definitely will be. My goal with the second episode was to establish the same sort of danger - that land is NOT safe, that islands WILL be fucked up and dangerous in ways you might not expect.
I also wanted to establish that this is not just a sea of monsters, but a very WEIRD sea of WEIRD monsters. It couldn't be any old monster on this island - it had to be one that was unique, unexpected, and maybe just a bit silly while still being menacing.
I've always felt that there's a lot of un-mined horror potential in storks, cranes, and herons - any bird with a long neck and spear-like beak it uses to stab smaller creatures from above. Just imagine yourself in a frog's place in the world - tiny, going about your business, when suddenly something shoots down at you from above and impales you before you even feel the shadow fall over your face. Or perhaps you did see the shadow - some of these birds spread their wings to create shade specifically to attract fish, and then spear the poor little bastards.
Well, what do people often look to islands for when out at sea? Shade - the shade of a palm tree. And palm fronds kinda resemble feathers, don't they? Wouldn't it be both ludicrous and terrifying is there was a stork big enough to mimic a palm tree - and wouldn't that be a DEVIOUS trap for a sun-drenched sailor to fall for? So the Tree Storks were born.
The Globster - I made a list of sea monster archetypes in the early planning for this project, and one I wanted to include was a kraken, i.e. some sort of tentacled sea beast. But I didn't want to do JUST a big squid or octopus, or even a riff on them. I wanted to take the idea of "big sea monster with lots of tentacles" into a stranger direction.
Since the Sea of Monsters is explicitly the home universe of lake and sea monster cryptids, I thought it might be fun if ASWaM's kraken equivalent was a globster - just a big ball of rotten meat. I love drawing monstrous faces, so I decided it'd just be, like, MADE of hideous rotten faces, all melting and congealing together, with its tentacles doubling as the tongues of its many mouths. A perfectly wretched image that, like the Tree Storks, would do well to establish how Fucked things could get in this setting. Plus similar monsters had appeared in Offbeat Melody, which would make for a fun sense of familiarity for the, like, five or so readers of mine who had listened to that campaign before.
Captain Peter & the Dolphin - Another thing I did in the early planning stages of this project was make a list of the different sea voyage stories I know and love, the most contentious of which is The Life of Pi. That's a story that I love on a literal level but kind of hate on a figurative level - its whole theme/message is that doubt is the worst thing you can have, that if you don't commit to believing something with zealous conviction you are a coward. As a person who thinks doubt is valid, that "I don't know" is sometimes the ONLY truly valid answer to a question, I have issues with that message.
But I can't help loving the beautifully ludicrous idea of a non-anthropomorphic tiger sailing the ocean on a big Odyssey of its own. Like, if that story didn't actively hate me for being agnostic, it would be one of my favorites.
So I decided to, you know, just steal the idea of a tiger Odysseus. The tiger in The Life of Pi is named Richard Parker. Richard Parker also happens to be the name of Peter Parker's dad. Hence we get Captain Peter - the figurative son of Richard Parker, if you will. And to ratchet up the absurdity of a tiger Odysseus, I made him a pirate and the sole sailor of his voyage. Somehow, this tiger has manned a boat on his own.
Captain Peter was intended to be the hero of another story - a sign for the readers that it IS possible for a stranded person (or, in this case, tiger) to survive out here. To that end, he had to rescue our heroes from another threat, but not one that would be interesting enough to take the focus off of the tiger pirate. Originally I planned for that threat to just be a big shark, but I ended up liking my shark design too much to put it in a role that small, so I quickly designed a nasty dolphin for the role instead. I think that worked out well, honestly.
Dr. Neptune - Episodes 5 and 6 were the mid-point of this journey, so I wanted the two monsters of those to escalate things significantly. I figured episode 5 was probably a good place to FINALLY give some meaningful exposition on what was going on, and there are a lot of stories about mad scientists doing weird shit on islands in my big list of sea voyage stories I love. So we get Dr. Neptune, a classical brain-in-a-jar mad scientist who's affable enough to give more-or-less accurate exposition but loony enough to be a problem. This also felt like a good spot to remind the reader that Calibani is not just a girl with a tail but rather a Sea Monster herself, and one that we'd been making stronger by allying with.
With his human-but-not-quite nature and cyclops eye, Dr. Neptune could sort of be seen as the Polyphemus of this story, couldn't he?
The Crocodisle - One of the sea monster archetypes on my list was "the island that's actually a sleeping monster," of which there are many in mythology and folklore. My favorite is the Jasconius from the voyage of St. Brendan, mainly because it's more or less benign and actually comes back to help St. Brendan and his crew at the end of the story. I always love when I can find an old story with a friendly monster in it.
When thinking of my own spin on the island monster concept, I remembered the only Magic the Gathering card I had as a kid, which I still have and love to this day: The Sandbar Crocodile. This card already inspired Crocogon's color scheme in The Atomic time of Monsters, but I felt I could go to that well again one more time, and so made a crocodile that wasn't just a sandbar, but a whole damn island to itself. And, like Jasconius, it turns out he's pretty chill.
I did not think of the pun name "Crocodisle" until I was actually writing the chapter in question.
The Femdom Mermaids - These three were a late addition to the roster. When I had Calibani bring up mermaids early in the story, I realized as soon as I wrote her rant about them that we'd HAVE to meet some later on in the story.
The readers had significantly shaped Calibani and Sailor's romance by this point, and I decided that it could be useful to have a chapter that was devoted to showing definitively how these two were good for each other. I thought the mermaids could provide a good contrast: have them act out a seemingly more benign take on the monstrous sea women trope (they abduct our hero to protect and care for them!) only for it to quickly feel MORE deranged than Calibani's comparatively simple desire just to eat him.
The spirit of Calibani's rant about mermaids was taken from weird* girls I knew in high school complaining about cheerleaders, so I wanted the mermaids to look like the sea monster equivalent of popular kids to Calibani's chubby weird girl. Two of them got the names of famous beauties - Helyne = Helen of Troy, Clio = Cleopatra.
(*when I say "weird" I mean it in a complimentary and affectionate sense)
Bob, meanwhile, kinda... rebelled, I guess? Before I had names for them, I listed "bob" by her as just, like, a descriptor for her hair cut, but then I liked it as her name, and once she was named Bob she became more than just a mean popular girl. She was a weirdo too, the little punching bag of the two mean popular girls who did their dirty work and smiled through their abuse because hey, at least they included her. It gave the trio an easily defined dynamic, helped make two of the three more visibly nasty, and gave us comic relief in an arc that could very well have gotten too uncomfortable otherwise.
And I guess it worked - readers REALLY loved Bob, and were very vocal about it, and I realized mid-arc that I had accidentally made her too likable to just leave in this arc. So Bob got to be rescued from her awful friend group thanks to readers like YOU.
Lord Ironteeth - yeah, this was the shark that was too cool to be a minor threat. When I drew his noggin, I realized he would need a chapter of his own, one with gravitas. I decided he'd specifically be the threshold guardian -once we beat him, we'd know for sure how to get home, even if there were a few more threats in store.
Spindle Inc and Sycorax - when I was a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare about being on some sort of underwater sea station that had this huge sea serpent trapped inside it. I'd look at the sea serpent from a window within the station and see it coiling in its tank, only for it to look at me with fury. In that glance I would suddenly realize two things with absolute clarity: first, it was going to break free and kill everyone, and second, we deserved that destruction for what we had done to it. The terror of the dream was less that the sea serpent was going to break free, and more the guilt of knowing that all the mayhem that was about to unfold was our fault to begin with.
I thought that would be fun to homage with the penultimate chapter of this story. OBVIOUSLY the sea serpent was Calibani's mom, obviously the trauma of its capture was why Calibani grew into a predator that specializes in hunting humans, obviously we would have to free the sea serpent despite that running counter to Sailor's goal of getting home. Easy, easy, easy plot point to include.
Spindle, Inc. is the primary antagonistic force in Offbeat Melody, so they easily slotted into the role of the arrogant humans who captured this monster for nefarious and selfish motives. They could tie a lot of other plot threads together too - Dr. Neptune was a scientist who worked for them as a contractor only to get screwed over (i.e. they stranded him in the Sea of Monsters, expecting him to die, and then used his research to make their own base of operations in it), we'd learn of him through a spindle briefcase left behind by some unfortunate rogue agent who got eaten by the Globster while he was trying to escape, hell they could even be one of the possible origins of Sailor themself (more on that later). Very useful villains, Spindle.
The Abyssal Mother - I knew the last sea monster would need a lot of punch to it. I briefly considered just a big whale - the Moby Dick to Spindle's corporate Ahab - but it felt underwhelming after all that came before. So I went for arguably the most dramatic possible sea monster, a full on Cthulhu-style elder god. If you're a frequent follower of this blog, you might know I have particularly high standards for Eldritch Abominations, so I realized this was going to be a pretty big challenge for me to live up to, and decided to keep the cthulhu in question reserved to the last few entries as a result - the less it appears, the less it has to live up to.
I realized I had a good angle when my experiments with the Cthulhu "squid for a head" concept ended up having a face framed in shadow - you know, the same visual that our protagonist has in most appearances. That provided some very juicy parallels between the two that made this final monster feel particularly noteworthy to me, ones that I'll leave you to ponder, since they tie into...
Part 6: Themes
I did not set out to have a theme in this story. I just wanted to make a sailor and a sea monster kiss. That was my only goal.
But I really don't begin with theme in ANY of my writing. I figure out topics I want to address, but for all my novels I feel like the themes didn't start coming together until about halfway through the first draft, when enough of the elements of the story had been set down and interacted with each other enough for me to realize what I was saying with them. A huge part of my second and third drafts for my novels have focused on making the themes of my stories more concrete and unified.
Well, ASWaM is very much a first draft of a story, but it's a simple enough story that I think the theme found itself pretty well despite lacking subsequent drafts to refine it.
ASWaM is about doubt and direction. It's about being adrift in a world that is in many ways hostile by nature, about not feeling like you're where you're supposed to be or even WHO you're supposed to be, and about setting off aimlessly in the hope that maybe you'll find your way to that mythical land of "what my life is supposed to be."
When I began the story, Sailor had amnesia and wore clothes that obscured their identity as a way to make it easier for anyone to step into Sailor's role. Sailor had to feel like You, the Reader, and so we don't know their name, their gender, their eye color, their hair color, even their skin color (note that their hands are always wearing gloves, and their face is always in shadow).
But it also meant Sailor is, well, undefined, at least at the start of the story. Sailor doesn't know who they are, what they are, how they came to be. Sailor feels distinctly that they should be Something Else, should be Somewhere Else, should be Someone Else, should not be who/what/where they are. Sailor is plagued by doubt, by a need to go in a different direction, by a need to be other than they are.
This initially contrasts with Calibani, who begins the story very confident that she is doing exactly what she was designed to be doing and acting exactly like she should be. As they interact, they begin to shift each other in opposite directions - Calibani questions her existence and nature, sometimes to a self destructive degree, and Sailor begins to find something about who and where they are that they like. They find a healthy middle ground together - doubtful enough to want to be better people, but with love for themselves that allows them to not feel the need to up-heave their lives entirely.
I knew at the start that I would build an expectation for there to be some answer to the question of who Sailor is and where they came from, because those are the questions that begin the whole narrative. I brainstormed a number of answers to those questions, but once I got a few chapters into writing the story and saw this theme of doubt developing, I realized I couldn't answer them. From a thematic standpoint, the doubt HAD to remain. So I gave hints to possible answers, bits of evidence to support the possibility of them being true, but never planted a smoking gun that answered it for sure.
Sailor can't know the answer because NONE of us know the answer. Outside of blind Life of Pi style faith, you cannot know for sure that you are living the life you're supposed to live. All you can do is figure out whether you're happy with the life you've got, or if you need a change. Sailor will never know who they are supposed to be, but they did learn who they are, and they love that person now.
For those curious, the possible Sailor origins are:
Occam's Razor: they're exactly what Dr. Neptune theorized, i.e. a human who got stranded in the Bermuda Triangle (or the Devil's Triangle or any other number of paranormal triangles) and fell into the Sea of Monsters. The trauma of that experience gave them amnesia. It's just brain damage and bad luck.
A Spindle Experiment: Dr. Warefore mentions that Spindle has been trying to find a way to make a human who can evolve like the denizens of the Sea of Monsters. Sailor may well be an attempt to do just that, perhaps one they wrote off as a failure and abandoned (they do that a lot)
A Deep One: Sailor is the offspring of one of the denizens of the Sea of Monsters (most likely the Abyssal Mother herself) who has somehow been tricked into believing they are human, to the point where they seem to be human to everyone else, even other monsters. Maybe a human summoned a sea monster to breed with on earth, and Sailor ended up being subconsciously drawn back to the Sea by their blood. Maybe Sailor never actually lived on earth at all, but was only made to THINK they had as part of the transformation into a human.
The Platonic Ideal of a Sailor: the Sea of Monsters is full of archetypal concepts, and arguably a sailor trying to find their way home is just as archetypal as any sea serpent, mermaid, or kraken. Our only proof that humans aren't native to the Sea of Monsters is Dr. Neptune, and he's not as reliable an expert as he claims to be.
This theme of doubt and direction also made the compass more important to the narrative than a simply mechanic for audience participation - a compass, after all, gives direction, and the feeling that Sailor is not where they're supposed to be, that they need to head in a different direction, is ultimately the catalyst of the plot. The compass is, in many ways, the antagonist of the story - the force that keeps Sailor from accepting themself. I realized this a little after I started making the different directions have personalities - initially they just represented broad concepts (North = follow conventional wisdom ala the North Star, South = preserve your short-term self interest at all costs, East = act with curiosity and be willing to take calculated risks, and West = throw caution to the wind and do anything that seems novel and exciting), but over time they became little characters themselves.
Since it was our thematic antagonist, I decided to pepper in some ideas about what the compass might be in-universe - and, in a move that would no doubt frustrate the compass, we also don't know for sure which of those is "correct." Is the compass a poltergeist, some amalgamation of dead sailors who try to steer other lost souls home? Is it a malign entity that leeches off of those desperate enough to seek its aid, living through them while pretending to aid them? Is it a device Spindle made to lure sailors to their clutches, OR to guide their experiments in human/monster hybrids? Was it a cursed item that forced a sea monster to assume a human shape? Who can say - the compass sure can't, it can only tell you a direction to go in.
Part 7: Q&A
Since this was an interactive story, I felt it was only fitting to add one last interactive element to this post-script write up, and some of your happily obliged me by sending in questions.
When I noticed how fast readers were falling for Calibani, I figured there was a good chance we'd end up staying in the Sea of Monsters. By chapter 7, I figured it was more or less a given, and by the end of the Lord Ironteeth encounter I was almost 100% sure Sailor would remain at sea. There was always a chance, though - while a look at the polls shows that the audience got more and more on the same page towards the end, there were always dissenting voices, and the desire to get an answer to the question of Who Sailor Was remained strong, as a number of people kept trying to find angles where they could get that AND stay with Calibani.
I was surprised early on by how easily the audience fell in love with Calibani, to the point where I made a few posts commenting on it. I mean, I shouldn't have been - as I said earlier, I have cultivated an audience of fellow monsterfuckers on here, and I know at least a few of them saw my bait and knew they could get me to be freaky in a way we found mutually agreeable (thank you all again for helping me escape being caned by Jesus for being horny).
Like, we REPEATEDLY ignored developing the plot in the Tree Storks chapter for several days just to spend more time with Calibani - something that I enjoyed immensely (this whole thing was an excuse for me to write and draw a cute chubby sea monster girl as much as possible aftter all) but also knew as a storyteller was not what most would consider a good story call. I like how it turned out, but it defied conventional narrative wisdom, you know? I was surprised.
On the other side of the coin, I was also surprised by how the audience NEVER chose an option that was humorously disastrous. I gave plenty of them, and, like, generally in collaborative storytelling there will be at least one moment where your collaborators decide to do the really, REALLY stupid thing that makes everything spiral out of control really quickly. I figured at least once the audience would choose the troll response, but no, you guys worked hard to keep Sailor and Calibani alive. You refused to let them hurt each other, refused to let them throw themselves into danger, refused to imperil them for your own chuckles. It was very sweet and unexpected.
I say "you refused" but to be fair it's not like NO ONE voted for the troll options - they generally got a handful of votes, just one that was beaten by a landslide of more reasonable options. Hopefully those of you who voted for the troll options enjoyed Bob throwing you a bone by disintegrating Dr. Warefore - that was my consolation prize to you.
Yes. I knew at the beginning that there would be two endings for this story: either Sailor leaves the Sea and goes home, or Sailor stays there forever. Or, you know, Sailor dies as a result of you guys choosing several stupid options in a row, but as stated above you guys avoided those scenarios pretty decisively.
Had Sailor gone home, the following would have occurred: first, they would forget everything that happened in the Sea of Monsters. Second, they would wake up in a hospital, having been found in the Atlantic Ocean by a human-recovery charity run by... oh, isn't that funny, some tech company named Spindle Inc! Spindle would foot the medical bills and even offer Sailor a job, but Sailor would decline because even now they're still not sure what Spindle even does. Sailor would go back to their life and find it familiar and utterly mundane, but not particularly happy. Their father died when they were 18, their mother was never in the picture, they have no siblings. They worked an office job and were sort of a nonentity - that position has long since been filled, but Sailor gets a new job and lives out much the same life: simple, mundane, dreary. Every now and then they get a pang of desire to leave, to go to sea, but they push it out of mind. They never even see the ocean again as long as they live.
Sailor would have gotten the normal life they thought they were supposed to have, the normal memories and name and identity, the mundane life of a normal person. And they just had to trade everything they found in the Sea of Monsters to get it. A question is answered, a direction is followed, but is it the right answer, the right direction?
Well, I think doubt would have remained.
I had a very vague idea for there to be some sort of man-eating giant in, like, a crystal castle. He got cut to make way for the mermaids.
I wanted to fit in a big whale and a giant crustacean, but there wasn't room or an interesting angle for me to want to make room for them. Saved for a possible sequel, I suppose.
I also wanted to have a scene with, like, DOZENS of sea monsters, including some of the ones from Offbeat Melody, but the goal of "this should be EASY you dumbass" made me kill that idea pretty quick.
Thank you!
The primary inspirations were:
The Odyssey and Epic: the Musical
The voyage of St. Brendan
The many "weird shit happens on an island" movies in Toho's filmography, i.e. Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster, Son of Godzilla, Yog Monster of the Deep, Matango, etc.
The Island of Dr. Moreau
The Boy and the Heron
Ponyo (specifically Ponyo's parents - I wanted Sailor to have the same desperate energy as that wizard who fucks the giant sea goddess)
The Life of Pi
Slay the Princess (perhaps most obvious in the use of second person narration, multiple voices in the protagonist's head, and falling in love with a creature that has tried to kill you at least once)
I'm going to use this to springboard to a related point in a second, but first a genuine yet humorous answer: Yes, absolutely yes, I am enough of a big romantic sap that I would give everything about my life away to be with a person who loves me and explore a world of monsters in a heartbeat. Hell, I would have jumped in the water the minute Calibani asked and died with her fangs in my neck and a smile on my face. I am dumb this way. Do not follow my example.
On that related point, though... Most stories like this, I daresay ALL stories like this that I know of, end with the hero abandoning the fantasy world in favor of reality, never to return. And that seems like the proper choice and lesson on the surface - we don't want to tell audiences to give up their real life in favor of a fantasy, after all. That's encouraging escapism, and that's not healthy!
But, like... textually speaking, the fantastical world IS real to the characters in these stories. And it's often not really an escape - was Sailor's life devoid of conflict and suffering in the Sea of Monsters? Fuck no! It's just that they figured out how to deal with that conflict and suffering - they built skills and a support system, they adapted, they learned how to overcome what was there.
I think it can be argued that sometimes the return to a "normal" world is, in itself, an escape - the idea that your life can spiral into chaos but that's ok, you can just reset everything and go back to The Way It Was and Should Be is just as unrealistic and unhealthy an idea as You Should Escape to A Better World. Sometimes your plans for your life fall apart, sometimes you're thrown into a place you never intended to go, sometimes you have to learn skills you never anticipated needing and ally with people you never thought you'd befriend to deal with problems you never dreamed you'd have to overcome. And sometimes it's ok to look at your derailed life, your Not Where You Should Be life, and say, "Well, I've learned how to live here... maybe I can stay."
Especially if there's a cute chubby sea monster girl who loves you.
Bob was never supposed to appear past chapter 7, but about halfway through that chapter I realized the audience and I myself would be heartbroken if we didn't rescue her. Definitely for the best - she provided some well-needed comic relief in the final chapters.
This is gonna sound snarky, but, yeah - there were 58 choices with four options a piece, and we only chose one of the four. While some of the options would have similar results, almost none would have had identical outcomes. And some would have been VERY different.
Like, to go back to the beginning: when Calibani attacked, we could either throw a net on her, harpoon her, try to drive around her, or hide below deck. We picked the net, but for the other three options:
Harpooning would result in us hitting her in the thigh, causing her enough pain that she collapses on our deck and we, horrified at the violence we committed, just sort of push on. Calibani would be wounded for at least the next chapter, perhaps longer, and significantly weaker (and probably harboring a great deal of hidden resentment while also being genuinely scared of Sailor). She would be vulnerable during the stork attack, forcing Sailor to take a more active role in that chapter.
Trying to steer around her would result in us essentially fighting her with our boat, resulting in the boat capsizing and Calibani getting tangled up in it. We'd wake up alone on Stork Island and have to travel in search of our boat, alone and vulnerable among man-eating trees. We'd run into Calibani again, also beached and in trouble, end up recruiting her to help us get our boat out of the sand.
Hiding below deck would end in a sea storm that leaves us inside our boat as it's beached on Stork Island. We'd fend off the storks alone, and run into Calibani once we get our boat out to sea, as she got away more or less unscathed.
All of these would have majorly changed the trajectory of our relationship with Calibani and our identity as Sailor, despite seeming to have the same component parts on the surface. Now account for how similarly slight changes in the other options could have gone, and we could have had a very different story indeed.
Part 8: Our Girl
I just think she's neat!
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So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-
Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!
This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:
General headcanons;
This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:
Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.
The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.
Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;
While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.
In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.
Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.
There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.
In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.
Few bonus headcanons!
I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!
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I was binge reading your latest stories (how are you so amazingly talented and you post so often ❤️❤️❤️❤️) and saw that you don’t mind writing for GnR?? Can I ask for Slash story; you know how he openly says he likes big 🍒? So maybe his GF thinks that’s the only reason he dates her is because of her body? Cause he openly flaunts in interviews that she’s “super hot” but never says how she tries to help him with his addictions?? Circa illusions tour??
Thank you, I hope you like it❤
More than a hot body
The roar of the crowd was still ringing in my ears as I sat backstage, guitar in hand, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off. The stage lights had been blinding, the cheers deafening, but despite all the noise, all the excitement, something felt off tonight. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach—this unsettling emptiness that had been following me around for days.
I had just finished an interview where I’d been gushing about how hot Y/N was, how lucky I was to have her. It was a usual line, a familiar routine for me, but tonight it hit differently. I kept thinking about her, and not in the way I usually did. I was used to her being my rock—my constant—but now, I wasn’t sure if she felt like she was really seen by me.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the feeling of unease. Something wasn’t right, and I knew I had to fix it—before it was too late.
When I walked into our dressing room, the space was charged with an energy I couldn’t quite place. Y/N was sitting on the couch, her back to me, her posture slumped slightly, almost like she was carrying a weight. She looked up when I entered, but her eyes didn’t meet mine. Instead, she gave me a small, tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
I could feel the tension in the air the moment I stepped inside. "Y/N," I started, my voice rough from the show. "We need to talk."
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stood up slowly, almost like she was gathering her thoughts, or maybe trying to avoid saying what she needed to say. When she finally turned to face me, there was a guarded look in her eyes. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. I could feel the walls between us growing higher, but I had no idea how to bring them down.
"What’s going on?" I asked softly, a knot forming in my stomach.
She let out a long breath, looking away briefly before meeting my gaze again. "I don’t know. I just…" She hesitated, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I feel like you don’t see me anymore, Slash."
I felt my chest tighten. My mind raced— "What do you mean?"
"I mean, all you ever talk about is how ‘hot’ I am," she said, her voice quieter than usual, almost like she was afraid of what she was saying. "How lucky you are because I’m beautiful. But you never talk about the other parts of me. The parts that actually matter. It feels like you only care about how I look next to you, not who I am underneath all of that."
Her words hit me harder than I expected. The air felt like it was being sucked out of the room, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I had always talked about her looks in interviews, praised her beauty endlessly, but now I realized how much I had neglected the deeper parts of our relationship. How had I let it get this far?
"Y/N," I began, my voice low and sincere. "That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry if it came across that way." I walked toward her, but she stepped back a little, her arms still crossed, her posture defensive. "I love you, all of you. Not just your body. You mean so much more to me than just how you look."
She shook her head, her lips trembling slightly. "But that’s not what you say. That’s not what I hear when you’re talking to reporters or in interviews. You talk about how ‘hot’ I am, and how ‘lucky’ you are to be with someone so beautiful. And I get it, I really do. But I’m more than that, Slash."
I could feel the weight of her words sinking in. I’d been so wrapped up in the rush of everything—the fame, the interviews, the shows—that I hadn’t been paying attention to what was really important. *Her*. The person who had been there for me through everything, helping me through the addiction, the struggles, the chaos of my life. I had failed to show her how much I valued her for *who she was*, not just how she looked beside me.
She continued, her voice now trembling with emotion. "Do you remember, Slash? When I was there for you when you were at your lowest? When you couldn’t find a way out of your own head, and I was the one who stayed with you, picked you up? When you were struggling with addiction, and I was there, helping you get through the hard days? I was there, Slash, and I didn’t walk away, no matter how dark things got."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew, deep down, she was right. She had been my anchor through some of the hardest times in my life, when I couldn’t see a way forward. She had stayed, despite everything, despite the demons I couldn’t shake. And here I was, only giving her part of me—praising her beauty, but not acknowledging the depth of her soul, her strength.
I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "I never meant to make you feel that way. You’ve been everything to me, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words. I’m sorry I’ve failed to show you how much you mean to me, how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I know I’ve been an idiot, and I hate that I’ve hurt you."
She took a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just need to know you see me, Slash. I need to know that I’m not just a pretty face on your arm, that you love me for everything I am, for the person I’ve been to you. Because sometimes, when I hear you talk about me like that, it makes me feel like you don’t love me for who I am. It feels like you only see the surface."
I could feel my chest tighten with guilt. How could I have been so blind "I see you," I whispered, reaching for her hand. She hesitated for a moment but then let me take it, her fingers trembling slightly in mine. "I see everything about you. Your heart. Your soul. The way you helped me through everything. You’ve been there for me in ways no one else has, and I should’ve shown you that. I should’ve let the world know how much I appreciate you, not just talk about how lucky I am to have you next to me."
She swallowed hard, her eyes searching mine. "I just need to feel like I matter for who I am, Slash. Not just for how I look, or how I fit into this image that’s out there. I’ve helped you get through the hardest parts of your life, but I need to know that I matter, that you see me as more than just someone who looks good next to you."
I gently cupped her face in my hands, my voice thick with emotion. "I will never make that mistake again. You are everything to me, Y/N. Not because of your looks, not because of anything surface-level. You’ve been my light when I was lost, my strength when I was weak. You’ve saved me in ways I can’t even explain. And I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that, proving to you that I love you for the person you are—all of you."
There was a long pause between us, the weight of everything hanging in the air. And then, slowly, her face softened, the walls between us starting to crumble. She let out a small sigh, and I saw the tears that had been threatening to fall finally slip down her cheeks. "Okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I’ll give you a chance. But I need you to prove it to me. Every day."
I nodded, my chest tightening with both relief and gratitude. "I will. I swear to you, every single day. I’ll show you that I see you, that I love you for who you are inside."
She wiped her tears away, offering me a small, tentative smile. "You better, Slash. You better."
And then, without thinking twice, I leaned in and kissed her. This time, it wasn’t the quick kiss I often gave her—it was slow, meaningful, full of the apology, the promise, and the love I had failed to express before. I wasn’t just kissing her because she was beautiful; I was kissing her because she was everything to me.
When we finally pulled apart, we stayed close, foreheads resting against each other. There was still a lot to work through, but in that moment, I knew that we could. Together.
#guns n roses#guns n roses x reader#guns n roses fanfic#guns n roses one shot#slash gnr#slash x reader#slash fluff#slash x you
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Hello! This is an opportunity for you to yap about ANYTHING you wanted to. That's it, use it however you'd like :D
Post about my Scarian Fashionista AU that I absolutely doubt I'll finish so have my draft notes of my plans before I completely gave up;
“Too common.”
“The design is tacky.”
“Now it’s too simple.”
“Grian, dear, are you even trying at this point?”
“Enough with this. If all your designs are just gonna look like this, I’d rather you already leave and reflect on this.”
Grian flinched as he watched the office door slam on his face, leaving him to glare at nothing but polished wood as he trembled frustratingly in place.
When he had signed up for a course on Fashion Design, he thought he had been overqualified for the course. After all, he already had plenty of experience in regards to fashion, so he thought that all he needed was to push through and just let his passions and ideas roam free then he’d get his degree easy peasy.
Too bad that reality is often disappointing, and often likes to humble him offensively.
Grian grit his teeth and was about to kick down his professor’s door until a voice piped up and dragged him away before he could create some long time regrets, “Woah there, buddy. Getting a lil’ too heated there, yeah?”
Pearl giggled as she held the shorter man down by his shoulders, disallowing him any opportunities of kicking down the door and potentially murdering their professor.
The future murderer squirmed under her hold for a while before begrudgingly setting his foot down, “I wouldn’t be like this if they weren’t so– so! Urgh!”
The rest of his words were lost as his emotions took over any sort of coherent thought, only having enough awareness to express his frustrations by groaning and whining. He waved his clenched fists and stomped his feet on the carpeted floor like a child throwing a tantrum.
With how he was acting, any student could mistake him for some short freshman first realizing the cruelty of college life. Fortunately, Pearl wasn’t any student and saved him the embarrassment of having to be compared to younger students.
“I know, I know. But if you were gonna get kicked out from university, I’d rather you get kicked out with an honorable reason,” she patted Grian’s back comfortingly, “And murdering a professor because you had a disagreement on some concept designs is not an honorable reason. It would be embarrassing, actually.”
Grian puffed up his cheeks and took a deep breath, steeling himself as he quickly turned on his heel to start brisk walking to a random direction, “Walk,” he announced vaguely, but Pearl was quick to understand and she followed after the other at a slower pace.
Clearly, this wasn’t their first time being in this kind of situation. In a world where standards heighten with every year, every decade, and every fad and trends, designers like them need to get ready for all kinds of heavy rejection, criticism, and judgment. Same can be said for any person who studied and worked under anything visual.
Hopes and dreams were meant to stay as hopes and dreams.
If you even attempt to express those to the world without having the bravery to back it up, it would inevitably face destruction in the hands of the high expectations of the public, and soon enough you’d be left with nothing but an empty shell that has sacrificed it all because they believe in passion over standards.
To battle the frustrations and heavy emotions that came as a result from these sacrifices, Grian and Pearl have learned to make a habit of doing simple things like strolls and walks. Because if you physically tire yourself out, then you wouldn’t have the energy to even impulsively think of rebelling against the norms of society.
And also because walks are nice. The campus gave them a lot of space to explore, so why not use it, right?
The pair found themselves strolling the halls of the building with Grian leading and Pearl calmly following behind. She didn’t make any attempts to catch up and walk beside the man because one cannot simply match an angry Grian’s pace. The shorter man had so much adrenaline from months upon months of suppressed anger that it was simply impossible to even walk with him properly without getting sore legs the next hour.
Pearl could only thank whatever god is above for making Grian as loud as he is, “Too common, too tacky– Her face looks too common and her personality is too tacky!” now starts Grian’s monthly ranting session.
“When I try to follow the current trends, she says the design is too overused and plain. But when I try to actually make something unique, she thinks it’s too ambitious and gaudy! It’s like she’s never happy!”
The brunette behind him snorted, “Maybe she wants an equilibrium? Something that’s just right?” she offered, to which her friend rolled his eyes.
“Something just right? Who is she? Freakin’ Goldilocks?!” Grian screeched and ruffled his own hair in distress, slowing down a few steps as he kicked his feet in anger.
Although this kind of reaction would probably gain him some few worried looks, Pearl herself was already too used to this scene and she simply giggled in response, “Maybe she is, you never know.”
Grian sighed out a groan and crossed his arms. His energy slowly simmered down as he eventually slowed down enough to be walking beside Pearl, “How are you so calm about this? I would’ve thought you’d be angry walking with me, but instead you’re just…. Well, walking.”
Pearl grinned wide and puffed up her chest proudly, “Well, contrary to my experiences for the past few terms, things are actually looking up for me!” Grian raised an eyebrow at this, squinting his eyes at the other with either a suspicious look or a look of envy. Probably both.
He tried to act nonchalant about it, like he’s totally not yearning to say the same thing for himself, “All because you’ve got some inspiration, huh?” His question had a teasing edge, making Pearl bashfully laugh.
“Some is undermining it. Gem has been a great source of inspiration. It’s like I’m being spoon fed a new idea everyday,” Pearl boasted enthusiastically that even Grian couldn’t help but flash a smile, “Huh, good for you then. It’s nice that you’ve atleast rekindled any sort of happiness that Professor Goldilocks may have burnt out,” he snorted.
Silence settled for a while with Pearl glancing at Grian like she was trying to figure out what to say to him. She only finally spoke up what was brewing on her mind when he acknowledged her gaze with a tilt of his head.
“Why not get a muse of your own?”
Grian’s face scrunched up at that question, “Of my own?”
“Yeah.”
Grian gave it a thought and he shook his head, “With how I am? I’m better off continuing to do things alone,” he grumbled.
He was already used to coming up with inspirations for himself on the spot. Because, unlike now, he was actually pretty passion-driven before, fueled with nothing but the dreams he’s held onto since he was young. It’s only unfortunate that he ran out of it because his professor was discouraging and hated everything he came up with, so he started living on thinking that everything he’s doing is inadequate, that he needs to improve his thinking before he could improve himself. It was a ‘he’ problem that he is more than capable of handling alone.
At least, that’s what he’s been persuading himself to think. But the more he thought about the idea of having a muse, the more appealing it sounded.
Or maybe that was his loneliness speaking.
While Grian was having inner conflicts within himself, Pearl continued to spit out encouraging words herself, “I mean, it’s not like it won’t be worth it,” she nudged the shorter man with an elbow to gain his attention back to her, “We’d need to gather models for our finals anyway.”
The blonde blinked in confusion, “Finals?”
Pearl gave him a weird look, “Our finals, Grian. The one where we’d have to get models to personally show off our designs by the end of the term.”
His expression froze along with his thought process as his brain began to file through any memory regarding his final project.
When he did finally register everything, Grian stopped in his steps to facepalm with both hands, letting out his nth muffled groan that same hour, “I… actually forgot,” he admitted with a whine before releasing his face and staring at Pearl in panic.
The end of the term fashion show. It sounded so ridiculous that it completely slipped Grian’s mind that it would actually be a contributing factor to his grades.
“Where am I even gonna get a muse, much less a model?!” He squeaked out, now resorting to pacing around the empty hallway in circles with his hands tugging on his own locks in distress.
Pearl stood to the side and couldn't even get a word in before Grian continued on with his monologue of panic, “I can’t just– Kneel and reach out for the sky and pray some god would hear my prayers!” He sounded manic.
The blonde stopped to stand at the ceiling to floor windows that decorated one side of the hallway, gesturing towards the sky through the said window in front of him, “Like, they can’t just drop down a beautiful being out of nowhere!”
As soon as he said that, his dark eyes looked down from the sky and unconsciously magnetized towards a figure outside on campus grounds, seemingly on the lookout for something.
Not that Grian was curious to know anything about what said figure was trying to do. All he knew at that moment was that they.... (I didn't finish this. Just imagine Scar just appeared lol)
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What do you think of a Lila character arc in which she learns that actually doing good and making her own visible achievements is more likely to get her better results than lying about her accomplishments and trying to sabotage others to make herself look better in comparison? That is, she figures out that if she really wants to *securely* get ahead in the world in the way that the show portrays her as wanting to rather than getting the 15-minutes-of-fame intervals created by her lies that she has to then keep feeding into, then she has to work WITH people instead of AGAINST them. Note that this is NOT a redemption arc that I’m describing; Lila would still not care at all about others or how they feel outside of direct usefulness to her in this scenario, but she would figure out how to employ her skills in a way that boosts HER up instead of tears OTHERS down (ex. lying and manipulating the reputations of individual people > acting and being an influencer on social media for sponsor brands) as well as how to network better and with WHOM it’s actually worth it to network with in the long run (could’ve seen that drop-of-a-dime betrayal from Gabriel Agreste in “Revelation” from a mile away, just sayin’). Lila would still be vain, vengeful and attention-focused the entire way through, with these being core qualities that don’t change about her, but while learning when to stop putting energy into her spite for someone due to either the actual “slight” against her being small in the grand scheme of things or the untouchability of her target in any way that really matters, as are the cases with Ladybug. In fact, this idea came from those posts that people have made since Season 3 and beyond pointing out two major character plot points of “Volpina” that conflict with common sense in hindsight concerning Lila. 1) After being deakumatized and calming down about the whole situation, Lila should have, while still not liking Ladybug, NOT continued to go after her from this point forward after realizing that Adrien was the only one who saw that whole outing of her lies and wasn’t angry at her for it as well as let her Ladyblog comments fade into obscurity as a safety net once considering how big of a public figure who does tangible good for the public Ladybug is and the reputation risk for little reward it would pose for her to keep talking about the hero at all. 2) If Lila really had done her research on the whole class and was as socially smart as the show wants her to come off as, she should’ve seen Marinette as someone to be “besties” with before her first day at school even started given her public accomplishments and connections up to that point (the sunglasses and album cover for Jagged in the music industry, her parents and great uncle in the food industry, her own merit as an up-and-coming fashion designer whose bowler hat design genuinely impressed Gabriel Agreste, who is known to not be impressed with or humor things he views as a waste of time as with Simon Says, etc.) the same way she did with Alya and the Ladyblog. Whether she still clings to Adrien given he’s still open to being friends with her as long as she stops lying (which she’s already resolved to do about Ladybug at minimum at this point) or she still gets annoyed with him trying to “lecture” her and decides he’s not worth the annoyance of putting up with over her two intended “besties” (Marinette and Lila wouldn’t be clashing since Lila would be trying to come up with a new game plan for school instead of lying now that Adrien’s aware of her and Marinette would still feel apologetic from the ending of “Volpina”) is up to preference, but I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on all of this regardless.
There's a lot here, so I'm going to start this post by stating what I think you're saying so that you know where I'm coming from in my answer in case I'm totally off base. The argument appears to be that a social climber (?) like Lila should have an arc where she learns that lies can only get her so far and that she's better off trying to make as many real connections as she can. The lies won't totally stop, but lying should become a last resort for her. I fully agree with that analysis. It's one of the many issues with Lila's writing. In the majority of the show, she is written like a compulsive liar and not like a clever manipulator.
A lot of the problem comes down to Lila's total lack of motivation. We don't know what her goals are and it feels like the writers don't either. It's why I put a question mark next to "social climber" in the last paragraph. I don't know if that's actually why she is! That makes her incredibly hard to write well.
When Lila's introduced, it comes across like she just wants to be seen as cool by her classmates. As the show goes on, that continues, but we also get this sense that she wants greater power of some kind and has some sort of master plan going on. Those are clashing behaviors. The kind of lies she tells at school are far too risky for someone with a grand plan. They put her at far too much risk of being outed.
For example, if she is actively manipulating a bunch of women into thinking that they're her mother, then why tell her classmates that she was out of town working for a charity with a well-known public figure like she did in Catalyst? That puts her at risk for a call home or even just having someone meet one of the mothers and mentioning the trip, which would make said mother start asking questions. Lila should be doing everything in her power to keep that from happening. She should want to blend in, not stand out. Canon even shows us how easily her lies would be outed if anyone other than Marinette cared to do basic fact checking:
Lila: (Waves) Hello, everyone! Miss Bustier's class: Hi Lila! Miss Bustier: We can't wait to hear what you've been doing since our last video chat. Tell us about your week in the Kingdom of Achu. Lila: It's absolutely amazing! Prince Ali invited me and my parents to his gorgeous palace. Marinette: Excuse me, Lila, but Prince Ali couldn't possibly have invited you because he is in the United States. Lila: (Laughs) I never said he was actually there, Marinette. I just said he invited us, that's all. His parents organized the visit- Marinette: She's lying, and I'll expose her for the fake that she is. Alya: Oh no, Marinette, not that again. She's not a liar. You're just jealous of Lila because she tried to hit on Adrien.
There is no point to this lie and it actively undermines Lila's character. This lie makes it look like she has no master plan and just lies compulsively for the thrill of it. The kind of character who tells lies like this one would not be capable of setting up multiple fake identities.
If you want to make Lila a master manipulator, then she needs to be written like she was in Oni-chan, which is one of the rare episodes where canon wrote her well:
Lila: What's the worst grade you've ever gotten? Adrien: An A- in math. Listen, Lila, you should forget about this. My father can be harsh with anyone he thinks is an intruder. Lila: (laughs) We're not doing anything wrong. Leave this to me. [Scene change to front the the mansion] Nathalie: I'm sorry, Adrien, but you know your father- Lila: Excuse me, ma'am. But is there any way I could ask him directly? Just in case. Nathalie: Mr. Agreste is busy designing and must not be disturbed for any reason. Adrien: I told you so. Lila: Oh, Adrien. I so wanted to help you make up all the schoolwork you missed due to all the modeling you've been doing lately. What will your father think if he finds out about your lower grades, Adrien? Who will he believe? Nathalie: Adrien, have your grades gone down? Lila: He’d never tell you himself up when I saw Adrien crying the other day because he only got an A-, I just felt like I had to offer him my help. I would’ve taken half an hour. (Nathalie raises her eyebrow at her) I understand. You’re only doing what you think is best. I did what I could, Adrien. Good luck. Nathalie: If it's only half an hour...
Lila is still a little too much here, but this is a kids show, so it makes sense to play up the lies a bit. With that context in mind, this is close enough to quality manipulation that I would feel like I was being a total nitpick if I complained about everyone being too gullible and Lila being a bad liar. Instead, I'm going to praise this writing. This is how she should have always been written. Minor lies used to get her connections or to manipulate her connections, but as much truth as she can manage to keep herself from being outed. Every lie should have a purpose and be carefully thought out. That's how manipulators work.
The Ladybug thing you brought up is another problem. If Lila's goal is manipulation, then she absolutely should have "forgiven" Ladybug and pretended to change. The lines she gives are those of a petty brat, not an evil mastermind:
Ladybug: I... totally overreacted and... never should've spoken to you like that. I'm sorry. Lila: Forget it, Ladybug; you were right. We'll never be friends.
While I hate the writing in Volpina, making Marinette feel guilty for confronting Lila could have been an excellent setup for Lila gaining power. If Lila went on to make the appearance of changing her behavior and Marinette believed that Lila was sorry, then you could have used Volpina as a semi-clumsy, but ultimately functional setup for Lila being a liar in the audience's eyes, but not in the eyes of the cast. Instead, Lila is enemies with both Ladybug and Marinette, which is the least interesting way to play this on every level.
As you rightly pointed out, Marinette has connections. Lila should want to be Marinette's friend! It would be far more interesting if Marinette trusted Lila and Lila was cool with Marinette while hating Ladybug. That's how identity shenanigan setups are supposed to function! It's not supposed to be just about the romance unless it's short form content. Imagine if the show had let Lila and Marinette have a cool dynamic too. It could lead to all sorts of interesting situations like Marinette picking Lila as a temp hero!
But, as always, that style of writing does not work in an episodic show and it definitely doesn't work in a formula show. Lila is simply a terrible pick for Miraculous at a fundamental, structural level and I have no idea how anyone is excited about her being the new main villain.
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IN THE ABSENCE OF EVERYTHING, I PROMISE TO KEEP YOU WARM . . jeong yunho
“you’ve ruined me for anyone else, i don’t think i could ever stop loving you even if i wanted to.”
pairing idol!yunho x fem!reader
one sided dislike/hatred. sunshine x grumpy. could be seen as an enemies to lovers but it’s all one sided on y/n’s end and she just doesn’t like him in the beginning while yunho is completely oblivious, but still matches her energy.
genre angst, fluff, smut, fic.
synopsis ateez are on a much needed break after their recent comeback — traveling overseas for a short-term vacation, yunho desires nothing more than just to ease himself and let go of worries.
but with a run in with someone he deems an angel in human skin, yunho learns she doesn’t know who he is and pretends to be someone else.
filled with secrets and a burning romance, yunho learns that no matter what you do or how hard you try, life just isn’t fair.
and he only had himself to blame.
warnings mature themes, mainly due to language. a lot of dishonesty. hurt without comfort if i’m being honest. nsfw later on. arguments and miscommunication. reader and yunho don’t have a good first impression at all, and they both don’t use the most nicest words at first. a lot of talk of mental health, exhaustion, and being overworked.
notes this is told in past tense, yunho’s pov. think of it as you are listening to him tell the story after it all ended, only knowing his side. this was also going to be a one shot, but i instead have changed my mind and went with original idea when first planning this, and this will be a fic.
a/n this is a repost! so if it sounds familiar i originally posted this with my old blog mothworked!
status ongoing
started 05/06/23
completed n/a
reblogs & comments are very appreciated and also help out a lot! thank you for reading and giving my work a chance ^_^
. . . # chapters !
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | to be continued. .
PREVIEW BELOW. . !
yunho hasn’t been happy in a while.
he doesn’t know when or where this sudden realization came into place, nor does he know when the feeling of numbness even decided to pop in for a chat as if it was a distant relative who came over for the holidays and refused to be put to bed.
he just knows he hasn’t been the same person after their comeback — assuming that he was only overworked, this will cease.
it didn’t.
his hands shoved his clothes into the oversized suitcase, hearing the zipper tug and close his belongings all tightly knit together, yunho let out a huff of air, allowing himself to pause for a minute, take in everything while staring blank at the pompompurin keychain he had setting on his nightstand with the mental reminder to hook it onto his bag to match with mingi — “will this actually do anything?” he voiced outloud, grumbling before pulling and rolling the suitcase off his bed and down the hall, “i’m here.”
the first person to lift their heads towards him was hongjoong who smiled in response, eyes showing he was just as exhausted and eager for this break, “does anyone know where we’ll be going?” he asked
“california — not so bad, huh?” seonghwa acknowledged, a light tone to ease the tension created from just the lack of care to their needs that begun to radiate off of then in their tones and actions
and yunho wanted to believe him, he really did.
but the feeling in his chest was yelling at him otherwise.
“san’s birthday is coming up,” yeosang mentioned one night while he and yunho unpacked, the two sharing a room together after losing a game of rock paper scissors
yunho could recall the shade the walls were painted, green lily. mingi was the one who mentioned the color by name and it had made them all erupt in fits of giggles on how — and why, he knew something like that but thanked him nonetheless, san announcing the dorms should be painted the same shade before getting a pillow aimed towards his head by a sleepy jongho
and now, yunho was scurrying around downtown LA, attempting to find a good present for his friend. why was gift shopping so hard? would san even like it? no, scratch that, san loved anything given to him — he was just a big ball of sunshine.
it was yunho who wouldn’t deem it good enough.
maybe coffee would help, yeah, that would. just something to distract his neverending nerves so he can think better. he should’ve asked seonghwa, he thought to himself.
the sky was clear, the sun being bright and reflecting on his freshly dyed scalp, it was his mind that was clouded and unable to steer in one set direction — not fully processing where he was going, only aware he was aiming towards that coffee shop he noticed. oh, if he knew then, he would’ve turned around.
colliding with a body, soft gasps and cold drink being spilled on his warm skin, “fuck,” he cursed out loud at the sudden temperature and new situation
and that’s when his eyes met yours.
but with the way his day and emotions had been, he didn’t intend for his next words to be come off so harsh, “i’m sorry”
you looked at him with an annoyed expression, brows knitted tightly together, “just watch where you’re going now i have to deal with a day without my drink.”
scoffing, yunho shook his head, “i wouldn’t be talking if i were you, you basically were fucking naurto running into my chest,”
you let out a huff, “naurto running?!” running your fingers through your hair, you shook your head, “if i wasn’t so mad, i would have laughed.”
“i can get you another one,” yunho tried to compromise, not wanting a feud with a stranger over a drink
plus, he wasn’t sure if you knew he was an idol and if you did, he didn’t have any desire to end up on an article, his thoughts broken by your scoff
“no fuck you, i wanted that one,” you folded your arms over your chest, eyes darting to the floor before you started getting napkins to clean up, yunho unaware of why he followed behind
“are you this uptight all the time?” yunho blurted, earning his chest to hit your back before you turned with raised brows
“only to dumbasses who make me spill my drink.”
“touché.”
he finally convinced you to let him get you another drink, taking a seat by you while the straw was between your lips and your fingertips tapped the cold plastic cup that had water droplets decorating, “you can leave now,” you said
“don’t flatter yourself, i ordered something too,” yunho shook his head
you sneered, “your presence just annoys me.”
yunho leaned forward, propping himself up with his elbows as he looked at you with a mocking grin to tease you more, “is that any way to talk to me after i got you another tea, which may i add, at a coffee shop?” he paused, looking at you taking a bite of your cake pop, “plus that cake pop.”
“yeah.” you shrugged
yunho ordered hot chocolate, his intentions were to get an iced americano but with the day he was having, his taste changed for today, his hands holding the warm wrapped brownie he hoped to enjoy if not giving it to san later
you teased him about it which was fair, he did so about your tea.
“what’s your name?” he asked
met with silence.
“hello, are you deaf?” he titled his head in response, you looking at him with a teasing grin
“for you, yeah.”
ignoring what you had said, yunho straightened his posture, “i’m yunho and you are?”
and yet again, met with your silence
“you’re making this really herd,” he huffed
“that’s the goal.” you replied
yunho didn’t know how much longer the two of you sat in silence, eating and drinking before you began getting up to clean your area, he remembered how the strands of your hair fell in front of your face and you harshly moved them aside in annoyance, jaw clenched while you got your bag that he didn’t realize you had with you — eyed landing on a specific dangling keychain that resembled the one he had connected, before he could make a comment about coincidences, you spoke
“y/n.”
“huh?” he questioned
you dusted yourself off and laughed, “my name is y/n, you asswipe.”
that was the first time he met you
and sometimes he wished he would’ve left you alone after that
maybe the two of you would have been better
maybe you wouldn’t hate him this much
and maybe he could’ve done things differently if he had another chance
but you won’t give him one
and he knows he doesn’t deserve it after what he did.
it was almost fate.
the situation and timing could come off as such — at least, yunho wanted to believe the two of you were starcrossed lovers destined to get it right either in this life or the next one.
he didn’t expect to see you there, polished and composed, the opposite of who he met the day prior. you radiated something that he knew he wouldn’t be able to get enough of.
and he couldn’t.
even now, he found himself drowning in your memory and wanting to be swept under permanently — it nearly sounds as if he was praying for a fatal outcome, but he did not want to die. he just wanted his heart back.
the same one that still stayed in your hands while yours was forcibly removed from his
#. . 🗒️ 𓈒 ׂ ☀️ 𖥔 in the absence of everything#jeong yunho fic#ateez fic#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez writing#ateez au#ateez ff#jeong yunho#jeong yunho x reader#jeong yunho angst#jeong yunho fanfic#jeong yunho au#jeong yunho writing#jeong yunho ateez#jeong yungo smut#jeong yunho fluff#ateez yunho
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Good morning everyone!
Before today's TSAMS ep I just wanted to share a random idea/theory I have about what might happen today. So, from the community tab in the tsams channel Nexus has been haunting it. He's been sending cryptic messages to mess with the audience. He recently made a post that had a big ol' copy pasta of "hi bro bro" and it included the words Sun, Nexus, and Thursday. He also recently mentioned he's going to haunt Sun.
We know when Sun feels extreme guilt over what he's done for tends to hallucinate his guilty thoughts in the form of the people he's killed. (Crazy that bro feels bad about self defense) So the usual thought I'd, Nexus is going to show up to taunt Sun. Sun is probably going to think he's not real because he knows he hallucinates.
However, I propose something else might be going on.
Recently Sun has been shown to have strange behavior. He sometimes seems low energy and like he was blacking out? He seemed to be zoning out too. I used to think it was hints of the entity that the creator sent into Sun's mind but one of the recent episodes makes me think maybe it's something else.
So in a recent episode where blue messed with Sun and made him a King for a day to cheer him up. So something that I thought was just a one off gag was when Blue said "I miss kissing dream Nexus." And yeah, that has to be a random gag. But then in the other recent EP with Moon's strange dream Blue showed up again and he tends to not act like anything else in both dreams.
We all know Blue is a strange entity not even the Devil from the Bible wants to deal with. He's been a gag character for a long time but he's also presented as this strange eldritch being. He transcends normal mortal rules.
I think it's not crazy to ask, what if he can actually enter dreams? He's always had intimate knowledge of people's dreams.
So going back to Sun, his odd dream seemed to affect reality. The stuff he did in his dream happened in real life.
What if, instead of sleeping or the entity it was Nexus? What if Nexus is testing out hacking and piloting Sun? What if guys 'haunt' is something more malicious like he takes over Sun?
Pilots Sun?
The reason why I think this is because Blue only really interacted with Nexus in Sun's dream. What if it was actually Nexus messing messing with his mind? The tampering came as a strange dream to Sun?
But that's my theory and I wanted to get it out before I started work and before the ep comes out!
#tsams#the sun and moon show#brainrot#sun and moon show#tsams sun#sams#sams sun#tsams theory#sabronda theory#sabronda yapping#excited for today's ep#hoping this is fun to read#tsams Nexus#sams Nexus#wrote this while my eyes were going crazy so i couldn't read what i was writing hoping there's no typos
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so what if prowl and shockwave blitzwing react to bumlebee is carrying sparking?
Oh damn uh, well.
I will take this a a separate ships reaction cuz I have no idea how to write all 3.
Ooh boy, it's gonna be a long one.
BlitzBee- I have already written something similar in this post so you might wanna give that a read. Another take would be that Bee got sparked on accident after Blitz joins Team Prime. He went a little too rough on his hummel during their nightly activities and oops, energy leak n all, they got a newspark.
Of course Bee doesn't even know until he's at 3rd week carrying. Cue the shock, panic and the confused crying on Bee's behalf. Robotic hormones be doin shit to a mech. Bee's frame is defective by forging so he's not supposed to be carrying, they didn't wanna terminate it so they thought about moving the newspark for Blitzwing to carry (he's not ideal either but more safe than Bee carrying).
Unfortunately, the newspark seemed to attach itself to Bee's spark chamber making it dangerous to perform the surgery. Bee was put on leave with strict rules of what he can and cannot do. Blitzwing was worried of course, his hummel didn't seem to take it seriously and threw a fit whenever he was told no. He tried to be around to make sure Bee doesn't do anything stupid, but alas...
He was only supposed to fly out to get a package and returned to Bee beign hospitalized in medbay; apparently Sari has climbed the tree outside the base while Bee was getting his dose of sunlight and fell- Bee managed to run up and catch her but moments later he collapsed clutching his chassis in pain.
When Blitz was asked to come into medbay after Bee woke up they didn't receive good news... There was no sign of the newspark on the scanner. Bee sobbed his spark out that day, his pitiful wailing was heard all thorough the base, Blitzwing could only hold him while he desperately tried to hold himself together.
It was difficult for all of them but the one who got hit the most was Bee. All he did was lay in his berth and not speak. He refused to eat unless Blitzwing or Ratchet forced him to. The others were extremely worried about him but understood that he needed time. Blitzwing himself was having a hard time coping and basically without a sparkmate to help him he started being aggressive.
One evening he came back home from a call with other teammates and went straight to check on Bee. He thought the scout was sleeping at first but then he noticed his faded colors. He wouldn't wake up no matter how much he called or shook him, Blitzwing just picked him up and ran to medbay.
It was then that Ratchet discovered that their newspark hasn't actually faded, it shrank to the point of not being detected by the old scanner and was now almost twice as big as it was before. It was draining Bee's frame of nutrients and energy, the scout got the appropriate shots and IVs, after he woke up he didn't quite understand what they were saying but once Blitzwing repeated the diagnosis he cried.
After the rollercoaster of emotions Bee has become basically immobile and had to be carried everywhere. He could walk on his own but after what happened he refused to even go close to whatever could negatively impact him. Walking, emotional movies, even majority of his games were left untouched for the rest 3 months of carrying. He blamed himself for nearly killing their child and he wasn't gonna repeat that mistake.
Then one night he woke up with chassis pains again, the emergence date was close so everyone was on edge. Blitzwing rushed him to medbay and by the dawn there was a bitlet peacefully napping in the makeshift baby cot. That night a storm was happening, Bee promptly named the bitty Thunderbolt after he heard one strike after emergence. It was a seeker, colored yellow and beige and purple optics, definitely taking after his sire in size.
But that's not where it ends, about 3 months later, Blitzwing got sparked and they had to get more protoforms. Bee was paranoid about Blitzwing even lifting a wing, especially since his mood swings gotten worse during carrying but he was following the doctor's orders to the word. They got a pair of twins, tiny grounders like Bee colored purple and black with faces and optics matching Blitzwing's other faces. Frost for blue wiht red optics and Flame for red with blue optics. They both got little yellow horns to contrast their colors. The seeker will grow little above Blitzwing's half of height with an aqua plane as alt, while the twins will be Bee-sized with topless jeeps as alts.
ProwlBee- It's a similar story as with BlitzBee; they get rough, Bee's sparked on accident, they find out x amount of time later BUT- they manage to get Prowl to carry the newspark. Prowl caught that something was up pretty early on so there was time. They didn't plan on it yet but there were definitely thoughts about it from time to time.
Bee however has never been more worrisome. He made sure Prowl had everything he needed and more and may or may not have been spoiling him a bit much. It only got worse when Prowl felt weaker and they had to make a check and discovered the newspark has split into 3. It was more than they expected but they would manage.
While Prowl was generally calm about everything Bee wasn't doing as good, on top of what i said earlier he also starter pulling allnighters the closer the due date was. He couldn't let himself be sleepin in case something horrible will happen. Which is why after delivering the bitties one afternoon he immediately crashed after he got a fair look at them and slept for nearly 2 days. They were near-identical triplets and definitely taking more after Prowl frame-wise with horns of course. One was yellow and gold, named Chi. The other one was silver and black, named Typhoon. and The third one (which actually emerged first) was black and yellow, they named it Shuriken. All had blue optics. All would grow to be as tall as Bee with quads as alt modes.
Now ShockBee. Longarm and Bee's relationship was more of a long distance one. Long visited sometimes but it wasn't enough for Bee. He knew Longarm had a job and couldn't just ditch it to spend time with him but he still tried to come up with excuses so that Longarm will have to stay with him for longer... never in a million years would he think of getting sparked though. Bee has tried to be more lustful as a way to keep Long around more but this was a complete unplanned event that he didn't predict.
He didn't even know how to break the news to Longarm, but he supposed it couldn't be bad since Longarm also loved him, right..? He couldn't have been more wrong.
When Longarm came to visit and Bee took him to speak in private and told him all happy, the first thing he heard was to terminate the newspark. Longarm wasn't asking for his opinion, Bee was told to do it and that's it. He argued with Long but all he got was that he doesn't want the sparkling and can't take care of it.
Bee has never seen Longarm so cold to him before. He left saying that he had something important to take care of and Bee would terminate it. Bee was torn and panicking later that evening; he didn't wanna upset his sparkmate but at the same time he didn't want to lose the sparkling that he's grown attached to in the short time he had it.
Bulkhead was there to comfort him, he suggested that he should talk with Longarm one more time before making the decision. So Bee did, he called Longarm to come visit once more and tried to talk with him about it once more. But it was useless. Longarm was set of getting rid of the newspark, even threatening to split up with Bee if he doesn't. In that moment Bee failed to recognise the one he loved and just stared at him before calmly stating he'll keep the sparkling and whether Longarm wants to be in its life it or not is his own choice. Longarm left shortly after that, saying nothing but that he knows his answer.
Bee cried his spark out at night, unable to comprehend why a mech that loved him would be so cruel. Bee was put on leave and did everything he could to make sure the newspark grows safe and strong. It all made sense once Longarm was discovered a spy and was send to stockades. Everyone was shocked and questioning anyone for anything they might know from when they had contact with Longarm. Bee's relationship was kept secret to other Elite Guard, the information about his sparkling's sire was shoved under the rug as well by Team Prime. They knew Bee was innocent and manipulated by Shockwave, so if the information he was sparked by him leaked Bee would never know peace again.
The mere shock of the discovery hit Bee like a freight train, so much to the point he went into early emergence from the stress. The newspark was weak so it had to be supported while in the protoform. The bitty was rusty yellow and black with teal details and antlers when it onlined properly, Bee named it Radio. It turned out to be medium class grounder, while skinny and usually quite taller than Bee. It chose an old type of camaro as alt mode.
PHEW there we go, that's all of them. Hope ya like it cuz I'm all outta writing juice.
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Thanks so much for tagging me @wolfpants, I loved reading yours! I've pretty much only published lots of PWPs so far, and while I loved writing every single fic I've posted, self-recs always feel a bit weird. x_x Anyway, I'll give it a go!
Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙
ㅤ
Passably Wrecked (Drarry, E, 4.6k)
“Potter,” Malfoy says, sitting down next to him at breakfast. “I think we should have sex.”
Starting with this one because it's fairly recent and I don't think I've shared it here! Malfoy expresses scepticism about Harry's sexual prowess. Harry is having none of it.
ㅤ
Keep your hands on me (Drarry, E, 21k)
Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).
Still the filthiest thing I've written imo – it's 21k of smut and I didn't self-censor at all, but I ~think~ I consider it porn with character development rather than pwp. I wrote the whole thing in a daze, which is my favourite way to write when the muses allow – and to my absolute astonishment (I was sure it was going to get hate), it tends to get my favourite comments too. ㅤ
Just a trial run (Drarry, E, 9k)
Potter in his living room was a novelty and Draco could not take his eyes off him. He fixed both of them a drink, handed Potter his Firewhisky, then sat on the sofa. “From Saviour to Auror to whore,” he said. Potter choked on his drink. “Tell me, Potter, how does that happen?” In which Harry wants to get into sex work and Draco would prefer to keep him for himself.
I'm very fond of this fic and this Draco. I wrote it while I was working on KYHOM because I wanted to try a somewhat similar premise with the opposite dynamic, with top Draco and a more submissive Harry. It has both a paid sex kink and alcohol kink, which I have no idea where they came from, and while I've been postponing doing some proper edits on the second chapter, I absolutely loved writing it. ㅤ
Trouble with your tie, Potter? (Drarry, E, 6.7k)
The last thing Harry expects when Slughorn partners him up with Zabini is Malfoy shooting them furious looks throughout the whole class and then unceremoniously snogging Harry in the corridor.
My Erised fic from last year! I was actually working on something else entirely, a much longer fic that fizzled and died on me halfway through. I have a self-imposed rule that the energy of a story has to be right and has to be such that the story drives itself – and, specifically for fic, that if I don't enjoy writing it, there's no point in doing it. So when writing a fic becomes a slog, I just go back and delete mercilessly. It still didn't help in this case though x_x, so I started writing "Trouble with your tie" instead, which was an absolute joy to work on and I'm so happy I did. There are some parts I still think I'll probably rewrite at some point, but I really loved writing H and D's dynamic here. Even though I don't agonise over my prose when I write fic, I am super careful about the energy I'm putting out and especially the feeling I'm leaving the reader with at the end, so I'm really happy they hit the mark in this case. ㅤ
Not very gallant (initial Dronarry but endgame Dron, E, 3.3k)
“He likes it when I hurt him,” Harry tells Ron with a smirk. “And then you come in and soothe him.”
I wanted to include a non-drarry fic so here's a very recent one! I think I probably could have done more with it, but I loved writing Ron in this. Please mind the tags!!! Everything is super undernegotiated!!! It's endgame Dron, but Harry is perfectly fine with it. I should also probably mention that Harry is a bit of an asshole in this fic compared to the way I usually write him, but because I usually write Drarry and wanted this to be endgame Dron, I had to find a way for the dynamic to be in character, hot, and sexually charged, but not in a way that made me ship drarry too much. I'm also usually not good with threesomes or poly relationships because I always feel like someone is left out x_x, so I tried to put my own spin on it. This is what worked for me and I loved writing it! Do not expect considerate behaviour for like... most of it though.
Tagging @crazybutgood , @magpiefngrl , @orange-peony , @lumosatnight and anyone who'd like to join!
#tag game#mind the tags in each fic!!!#drarry#drarry fic#drarry fanfic#dmhp#hpdm#harry x draco#draco x harry#drarry smut#my fics#dron#dronarry
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