#M tag rambles as well apparently

[mad-madam-m]

Somewhat related to the above, one of my favorite things about fandom is how we go absolutely hogwild over each and every frame (or sentence) of our favorite stories with a magnifying glass and pull out amazing, glorious, hilarious, heartbreaking, brilliant meta and theories and analysis.

Conversely, one of my least favorite things about fandom is how we go absolutely hogwild over each and every frame (or sentence) of our favorite stories with a magnifying glass and tease out plot threads and foreshadowing hints where none was actually intended, and then when canon inevitably does not return to deal with those threads (since they were not actually threads), decry it as Bad Writing and a Bad Story. And I think that's also extremely unfair.

Not everything is a clue (a Clue!), a hint, or foreshadowing. Just as often it's an in-joke, a continuity error, or just general Worldbuilding info for flavor. And like Ked said, we haven't hit the end of the story yet. We won't fully know which is which until we (*fingers and toes and everything crossed*) get season 3.

Hey! So I've been following you since you posted a lot about good omens in 2019ish? I remember you talking about wing fics vividly, but I just want to ask:

How are you doing after season 2?

Good! I enjoyed season 2, and I look forward to seeing how things resolve in season 3.

I think there are a lot of folks upset about various things, for various reasons, a lot of which boil down to "the season didn't go how I wanted it to/thought it should go" or "the season didn't end wrapped up neatly like S1 did." Neither of which, imo, are fair judgments of a season that a) isn't that person's story and b) was meant to be a bridge not an ending. Everyone is entitled to their opinions, of course, and to their feelings, but I do wonder how many have taken honest assessment of those feelings and opinions.

In my opinion, it's unfair to claim a story is bad JUST because it didn't do what you wanted it to do. It's not a bad story just because characters didn't act how you predicted or wanted, either. Some of the responses I've seen hinge almost entirely on "but canon didn't do what fanon/I decided is best" usually with the caveat of "before I even saw the season" and that's... ignoble at best. It's fair to criticize poor storytelling, but I feel like you have to have the whole story, or most of it, to do that, and we don't have that. We're actually smack in the middle of the story, by my judgment.

This season was never meant to be The Whole Story, we have known for a long time that there is a season 3 planned (whether or not it's ever able to come to fruition is a separate issue, it has been planned since a long time ago). As such, I don't think it's fair at all to the story to be angry that the season didn't stop at a nice, neat, happily-ever-after, because this isn't the end of the story.

To quote one of my favorite authors, Peter S. Beagle: "Things must happen when it is time for them to happen. Quests may not simply be abandoned; prophecies may not be left to rot like unpicked fruit; unicorns may go unrescued for a very long time, but not forever. The happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story."

[seabirdtxt]

.Irminsul --amend -m 'Scaramouche'

Nahida has called in the book club to try and start discussions about the Creator's situation. Cyno actually kinda knows what he's talking about and Alhaitham is... mostly there for moral support... [< prev] [Blog Tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. Separate warning for my writing being all over the place on this one. all relationships are currently platonic!

WC. 2.6k

----- ⚘ -----

There’s not much to do except wait for Alhaitham and Cyno to show up, unfortunately, so you have taken to chatting with Nahida and Aranyani about some of the games and toys that exist back on Earth. Aranyani seems to be interested in the mechanics of each, comparing them to existing games in Teyvat, while Nahida is more interested in trying them out for herself, someday.

Scaramouche doesn’t seem interested in the conversation, but he sits with the three of you anyway and watches the shadows of birds moving beyond the stained glass windows. 

You’d just been explaining the concept of the rubix cube and algorithms to the two gods when a sure knock is heard on the sanctuary doors. Scaramouche takes the opportunity to make his escape from the conversation, shuffling to the door and opening it for the newcomers. 

Cyno steps in, followed by Alhaitham, and the two of them hold each other at a polite distance as they walk down toward the dais, where the rest of you stand to greet them. 

“Hello, my friends!” Nahida exclaims, smiling brightly and clasping her hands together even as she and Aranyani take a gracious step back to allow you and the newcomers space. “Thank you so much for being here! We have a lot to discuss!” 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Cyno replies, nodding. He then turns to you with a little salute. “Your Grace, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

You put your hands up placatingly. “Please, there’s no need for formality…” you say, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as everyone looks at you. You clear your throat and gesture for the newcomers to continue. 

“We heard about the circumstances after your arrival in Teyvat,” Alhaitham states, stepping around Cyno, stopping at his side and crossing his arms. Straight to the point. “Do you remember the circumstances that led up to your descent? It might help point toward the root cause, and shed light on the ‘how’s and ‘why’s.” 

“Uh, good question,” you mutter, scratching your head about it for a second. “I was probably hanging out in my room or something, really. Playing, uh, games on my phone.”

You wonder if it’s too early to mention that said game was Genshin, AKA. controlling their world. You know they’re marginally self-aware, but the extent of which still escapes you. 

“Alright, and did you do anything different while you were playing on this ‘phone’? See anything strange?” Cyno picks up, pulling out a small notepad and quill. “Anything out of the ordinary, things that you don’t normally do or notice.”

“Well, my phone has been glitching a lot when I play games, lately,” you muse. “And I kept getting these buggy screens while I was in-game, but I figured that was just because my device was overheating or something. You know, they build them faulty on purpose so they can sell you a new one every few years? Apparently in France or something they made companies give people the right to repair their own phones, but we don’t have that where I live…” 

Cyno writes down most of the first half of what you say, but you seem to lose the crowd as you ramble. He looks up from his notepad to fix you with a level stare, though you can tell there's just a hint of confusion behind his expression.

“Can you say something that makes sense to people who live in this world?” Scaramouche interjects somewhere in the middle of your rambling, the first time he spoke since you guys first teleported to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “Or at least stay on topic, or something.” 

“Oh,” you reply, blinking. “Right.” 

Cyno nods to you again, though he keeps glancing at Scaramouche out of the corner of his eye. Alhaitham doesn’t bother with subtlety, fixing the Balladeer with a level, analytical stare. Cyno clears his throat after a few seconds of awkward silence, preparing his notepad once more. “So, you were saying you played on this ‘phone’ device, aside from the problem you noticed, was there anything else you did differently?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “I was playing the game like I normally would, doing commissions and stuff. No, wait, actually I did do something a bit weird.” 

This causes Cyno to perk up, and he leans forward onto the balls of his feet as he listens attentively. 

“Because the game was overheating my phone, my ping was super slow,” you explain. “So I was lagging pretty badly. I was doing one of the leylines in the jungle and I was spamming the interact button on the flower because I was getting impatient…”

“And then?”

“... And then I think another dialogue box popped up, but I didn’t notice what it said.” You finish, sighing. “After that, I just remember waking up beside a leyline thingy right here in Teyvat.” 

“Do you remember the exact location of the leyline?” Alhaitham asks, to which you shake your head.

“The Traveler and Wanderer found me not too long after that, and took me straight to the city. They probably have a better idea than I do, honestly. I didn’t really have a chance to figure out where I was, at the time…” 

“Do you recall any distinctive landmarks? Anything that stood out in an otherwise unremarkable location?” 

You shake your head again, trying to remember what you saw. “No, uh, I was a little bit distracted by discovering I was suddenly in- uh, in Teyvat, and-”

“So you were not already aware of your location when you descended?” Cyno clarifies. You nod quickly.

“I only figured out it was Sumeru when the Traveler started bringing me closer to the city,” you agree, wringing your hands nervously under the general’s gaze. “The few little houses and tents that started popping up, the architecture kinda gave it away…” 

“Were there any inconsistencies you noticed between your knowledge of Teyvat and the actual Teyvat when you arrived?” Cyno asks, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “Just to make sure you’re in the correct version.” 

“Well, funny you should mention that,” you figure it wouldn’t hurt to share this, given the result of it sitting right next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, Nahida is giving you a thumbs up. “I got hurt touching a leyline, not the same one as when I first got here, though! I got a little cut on my hand, because the leaves are a bit sharper than I was expecting…”

Alhaitham’s attention shifts from the Balladeer back to you. “What happened when you were injured?”

“I, uh, I accidentally made Irminsul recover some deleted information.” You simplify as best as you can. “And now there’s several things that were added back to the world that aren’t technically supposed to be here...”

“I’ve never heard of leylines doing that, before,” Cyno remarks. “Then again, it’s not every day the Creator descends to Teyvat.” 

“Have you tried going back to the same location to see if it yields reverse results?” Alhaitham wonders aloud, seeming amused by the strange predicament. 

“And what is that supposed to achieve?” Scaramouche interrupts again, snorting as he crosses his arms. “Besides going for a leisurely stroll through the jungle, I mean. Irminsul already recovered the missing data, and the location itself doesn’t matter, if you haven’t noticed already, since you can find a leyline just about anywhere.”

“It’s certainly an unprecedented behavior for leylines,” Cyno agrees. “But again, the Creator has never descended before-”

“We heard you the first time,” Scaramouche deadpans, earning him a smack upside the head courtesy of you. “Ow! Do you want to figure this stuff out or not?”

“Be nice,” you grumble, though you do feel slightly annoyed at the repetitive line of questioning. “He’s just ruling things out, right?” You turn to Cyno, nodding encouragingly for him to continue. 

“Ley lines are a complicated but fascinating subject to study,” Cyno states, crossing his arms and tucking his notebook under one elbow. “However, I’m afraid interdimensional travel is a little bit outside Spantamad’s realm of expertise.”

“Honestly, that’s fair,” you give a resigned sigh, but Scaramouche cuts you off.

“But how’s that supposed to help you?” He sneers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s like you want to be stuck here forever with no explanation for how you got here in the first place.”

“Can we just chalk it up to magic or something?” You ask sheepishly, a little embarrassed at having taken the time out of two of Sumeru’s most important figures’ days.

“I was looking forward to hearing about how you got into this predicament with your own two idiot hands, honestly.”

“What I want to know,” Alhaitham suddenly interjects, surprising everyone else with his initiative. “Is how the Creator and the Dendro archon are here, cozying up to a Fatui harbinger?” 

Four pairs of eyes blink at him in surprise, while Cyno nods in agreement.

“I think that’s the more pressing matter, here,” he agrees, and you can sense the tingle of static in the air as his previously-relaxed grip on his notebook starts to tighten. 

“Okay, see, that’s one of the things I was talking about!” You say quickly, the words leaving you in a rush in hopes of stemming the building tension in the sanctuary. “He was a harbinger before, but he’s all better now!”

“You say that like it was an illness,” Scaramouche snorts, to which you can only laugh.

“Yeah? As if you didn’t act a little bit sick in the hea-”

Nahida, who up until now has been doing an excellent job of pretending to mind her own business, decides to chime in before the general can come to his own conclusion.

“I apologize for not warning you two earlier, but I do have it on good authority—that authority being myself,” she hides her giggle with the palm of her hand, “that the Balladeer poses no harm to either of you, or the Creator!” 

“It’s also kinda my fault that he’s here, so I mean…” You trail off and give an apologetic shrug.

“How did you know I was a harbinger?” Scaramouche’s eyes narrow at Alhaitham and he crosses his arms as well, mirroring both the scribe and Cyno. “As far as I've been told, the memory of ‘me’ was erased from Irminsul.”

Cyno shakes his head. “No, there is recorded evidence of the Balladeer’s involvement with the sages’ god-creation plan,” he corrects, relaxing very slightly after Nahida’s reassurance but not dropping his guard completely. 

“I was present at the time of the Traveler’s investigation of the Joruri workshop, where they confronted the mechanical false god,” Alhaitham adds. “The person who fell from the machine indeed bears striking resemblance to you, but was confirmed to not be the Balladeer himself. However, Lord Kusanali’s own interjection confirms that you are indeed the Balladeer.” 

“He’s been reformed,” you say cheerfully, but your mind is running a mile a minute. Evidently Nahida and Aranyani are on the same page, because the two goddesses drift closer with curious looks on their faces. 

“So Irminsul has already started patching the holes in Teyvat’s history,” Nahida muses, hands on her hips. “It’s much faster than I anticipated, given the circumstances.”

“Not as surprising as you would think, little sprout,” Aranyani pats her head. “Irminsul is capable of very rapid computation, but the problem lies in resolving as many conflicting histories as possible. Two is faster, but three will cause some things to be shuffled around for a few days, still. The justification of the existence of multiple incarnations of the Balladeer may yet be subject to change.”

“So you’re saying that what we currently perceive as fact, is instead false?” Cyno asks, having retrieved his notebook once more. As the goddesses continue to muse on the subject, he writes down their theories and makes some notes of his own. 

“I’d say sorry for that workshop fight,” Scaramouche says, addressing Alhaitham with a smug grin. “But I honestly didn’t even remember you being there. I guess you just weren’t that noteworthy to me at the time. No hard feelings, right?” 

Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to grace him with a look, much to Scaramouche’s annoyance. Instead, the scribe quietly listens in on the Irminsul discussion.

Meanwhile, you try to remember what team you had when you took on the Archon quest fight. It’s been a while since then, and you’re not sure if you’re thinking of the right fight. Maybe you used Alhaitham in one of your weeklies? Speaking of which, do those boss fights exist in the world of Teyvat, or is that just for you as a player of the game? If they exist, how do the characters feel having to go beat up the same people on a weekly basis? What about the characters who are weekly bosses, like Wanderer, Childe, and Ei?

Thinking about it is starting to give you a headache. 

You decide to tune back in as Nahida and Aranyani finish bouncing ideas between themselves, with Cyno furiously scribbling annotations in the margins of his notepad. What was it they were talking about again? You get the sense that maybe you should've paid a bit more attention. 

“- that’s the case, then we should contact Inazuma and see if there is a new history that came up.” Cyno offers, to which Nahida shakes her head.

“If we ask directly, the answer we will get is the same.” She explains, wringing her tiny hands. “To them, this knowledge will have always existed. They will perceive it as an unchanged fact, in the same way you and the Scribe believe the circumstances of the Balladeer to be a fact. The better people to ask would be the ones involved in the anomaly.” 

“Alright, and how do we find them?”

“See, that’s the funny part…” You begin, only to be interrupted by a sudden swirling pressure in the chamber.

It’s strange to see the teleportation from an outside perspective. You watch as Wanderer shimmers into existence, adjusting his hat. The metal charms on the ends of it chime as they settle. He looks up, catching sight of you first and raises a hand to wave, only to stop short when he sees the other guests.

“... Looks like I’m late to the party,” he remarks, drifting over to Nahida’s side. “Wanna catch me up to speed? Not that I care, but I might as well get the full picture so I can correct you where you're wrong.”

“I asked for the General and the Scribe to come visit so that we could get a better grasp on the Creator’s situation!” Nahida explains, smiling brightly at him. 

“Great, and how did that go?”

Everybody chooses to look in different directions, unable to look Wanderer in the eye. You hear him heave an annoyed, but resigned, sigh. 

“We might’ve gotten somewhere if Buer hadn’t sidetracked,” Scaramouche adds helpfully. 

“And you might’ve gotten the groceries like you guys said you would, too, but here we are,” Wanderer crosses his arms, pinning you and Scaramouche with a pointed look. 

You wince and turn around, subtly leaning over to Scara, whispering: “I actually forgot about that…”

“Me too…” he replies, not quite as quietly as you. You both startle as hands come down on both of your shoulders, Wanderer’s grinning face appearing between the two of you. 

“Isn’t this just a splendid opportunity for you two to go find the traveler and restock our pantry, while Buer and I go over the details of what you clowns didn’t explain right?” 

Scaramouche wastes no time wresting his shoulder out of Wanderer’s grasp with a noise of disgust. “Who do you think you are to order me around, teacher’s pet? I’ll go when I feel like it.” He sneers, stalking off toward the doors of the sanctuary.

You offer a light chuckle and a wry grin of apology to the others, who watch unimpressed at Scaramouche’s display, while Wanderer dismisses you with a shooing motion.

Right. Time to get those supplies. 

[thefixations-ofmine]

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Tommy Kinard AU (911)

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: age gap, blowjob (m receiving), rimming, pet names

Summary: Former high school football star Evan Buckley navigates his new adult life. A broken down car takes him to the nearest body shop, where a very handsome 30-something mechanic catches his eye - and he's good with his hands too!

A/N: Yay, a new fic! This has been sitting in my head for a while and I finally put it down into words after seeing this manip photo of Oliver with longer hair. Sadly, I put aside some things I had already started, but I'm happy to get more work out there! Constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist

“Helping number 36!” A young lady announces over the intercom. A shared gasp fills the room at the loud intrusion, and everyone has a look at their ticket. Evan sighs finally! He walks into the service area and heads to where an assistant is waiting to get his ticket.

“36?” A short man in glasses questions.

“That’s me! I’m Evan,” he answers with a handshake.

“Great, Evan. What brings you in today?”

He goes on for a solid fifteen minutes about all the troubles with his car. From the screeching breaks to the clicking steering and so on. His folks couldn’t afford a new car for when he got his license, and with their money and his combined, a deadbeat ‘64 Buick Skylark was all he could get - while still looking badass. It got him from point A to point B, albeit all the times he had to stop to nudge something back in place or to make sure the oil level was still right. He was saving to get himself a car that was at least of the decade, but it was proving longer than initially planned with all the fixing and maintenance on this one.

“Well, we have a really great old school mechanic, and an open schedule, so we can actually get started today if you’d like!” The assistant states, and proceeds to give him a rundown of the costs. Evan nods and runs back to his car to back it into a garage spot.

“Little further!” He hears a voice call from behind the trunk, unable to see the face of the man in the mirror. “Alright!” He adds waving his hands, and Evan breaks abruptly. He gets out of the car and starts rambling about what needs to be fixed, until a hand on his shoulder stops him.

“We’ve got it, kid.” The deep voice says again, and Evan turns this time, getting a first look at his face. And what a face! He’s surprised at first that he has to look up at him (even for just a few inches), and he rapidly gets lost in his striking blue eyes. “We’ll take care of it like it’s our own,” the mystery man says, bringing Evan back to reality.

“Um, thanks. Yeah, that would be, um, great!” He’s met with a reassuring smile, crinkly nose and all. He smiles back, trying to act as cool.

“I see you play,” Tommy (Evan remembered he could read for a second and saw his name tag) tries to start a conversation, pointing at the high school logo on his t-shirt. He nods. Tommy laughs. “I also used to a few years back. Same high school. Didn’t stick though, I was good with my hands but for different reasons.” If the blush on Evan’s cheeks wasn’t already apparent, that last statement accompanied by a wink surely painted his face a lovely crimson shade. If anything, it keeps Evan from telling him he actually graduated last year, but that’s besides the point.

He lets his eyes wander on the man’s body as he walks around to the hood; he guesses he’s around thirty. His thick veiny hands run along the metal, and thicker, veinier arms struggle to stay contained in the white t-shirt, proving he did in fact play sports in his youth. He likes what he sees, and doesn't know how to act about it. There was one thing a small town high school couldn’t provide you with; a well diverse sex-ed class. Not that nobody talked about it, but it was more often in a bad light than in a supportive kind of chit-chat in the back of a locker room. He had only been exposed to “educative” material through dodgy websites - though he owed his quarter-back wrist strength to that!

Today though, Evan would be happy to learn and explore.

“I’m sorry, do you guys have any water?” He manages to blurt out, running a finger into the neck of his shirt and his other hand up the side of his jeans.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to use the hose, kid.” Tommy points him to the side of the building a few feet away. Evan rushes to it, and almost drowns from the big gulps he’s inhaling, and doesn’t notice Tommy’s watching. Doesn’t see how he licks his lips at the sight of his own mouth pursed, and the sway of his Adam’s apple as he swallows vigorously. How Tommy’s eyes run down his arched back as he’s holding himself up with a hand on his knee. When he’s done drinking, some stray drops run down his chin and Tommy wants to lap at them. He clears his throat and goes back to examining the engine when their eyes meet.

A couple hours has brought the awkward moment to a well established conversation between the two as they exchange about cars and Fantasy Football predictions - both of them stealing looks every once in a while, silently eating the other up. When Evan runs his hand on his stomach as it growls, Tommy takes the opportunity to ask:

“Do you wanna grab a bite?”

“Huh?” Evan asks, his brain scrambled from the heat and the blood filling his semi.

“I think I’ll need at least another day before I’m done, and the last piece I took out will keep you from driving home,” he begins. “I thought maybe we could grab a bite and I can drive you back?” There’s another sensation added to the hunger in Evan’s stomach, one he had felt a long time ago when an exchange student from England had arrived at their school. He’d gotten Evan in a corner one day and kissed his lips, and Evan let him for several seconds before he pushed him away, embarrassed - confused. He told him he wasn’t mad, but that this didn’t have to happen again or be made known to others. He still hates himself after all those years for not apologizing before the guy went back home.

“I. Yeah, yeah. That would be great.” He finds the strength to answer.

“Awesome. Let me get out of these overalls and I’ll be right there.”

Evan guides Tommy down the streets of his neighbourhood after leaving the diner, where he had the best burgers of his life. Didn’t I tell ya, kid? He remembers Tommy had said when Evan moaned at the taste of the greasy patty. He turned red right there again, but when his eyes landed on Tommy’s, he realized they were both bothered and hot by the situation. If he was reading it right…

Kid. Evan can’t shake the hold that pet name has on him, a weird mix of adoration and degradation. He wasn’t a kid! He was 19! But then again, in contrast to the well-established, rugged man sitting next to him, as he watches his fingers drum absentmindedly to a Kiss song on the steering wheel, Evan can understand why he uses that word. He hopes it isn’t derogatory, but is willing to prove Tommy wrong. 

When they get to Evan’s house, Tommy drives his car into the empty driveway and turns the engine off with a content sigh. “I guess that’s my stop,” Evan jokes and clumsily goes to tap the center console, unaware that Tommy had leaned his arm onto it, the contact of his hand hitting the strong skin sends a shiver down his spine. Like a deer in headlights, he stays like this, not budging a finger until he hears Tommy chuckle deeply.

“You okay there, buddy?” That was a new one, Evan notes, and he’s sure now that he read the situation wrong because Tommy must see him as a bro, as his little brother’s friend who’s always squatting in the basement. But the second later, Evan is shoved into a new reality when he feels Tommy’s left hand come to cradle his chin to turn his head his way. He’s unable to tell if he’s still breathing, but that can be done manually so he should survive even in the confined space around them. There’s a tentative look in Tommy’s expression, a light smirk as his eyes volley in a triangle between Evan’s lips, his eyes, and the few bunches of curls that pop out of his cap. When the hand on his arm tightens instinctively, Tommy takes the plunge and crashes their lips together.

It’s hungry and unfiltered, and what Buck gives in clumsiness Tommy can redirect and show him he’s really into this. As if his grunts or the hand creeping to the back of Evan’s neck weren’t enough proof that Tommy wasn’t just trying to be nice. That’s when Evan realizes he’s kissing back, and grunting too, and he’s not going to have to feel sorry for the near future because of his stupid brain. He unfastens his seatbelt to try and kneel onto the seat until Tommy laughs into his mouth, now open from having been explored by a hungry tongue.

“Evan,” he begins, “are you sure about this?” There’s a frown on Evan’s face and he wonders what he did wrong, until Tommy corrects: “I mean, is this okay here in the car? Won’t anybody just walk by?” And then Evan smiles.

“My parents are out of town for the week, if you would, um. If you’d like, we can go inside.” It’s like the puffiness of his lips is keeping him from talking properly, but Tommy’s eager to get out of the car and follows Evan to the door, hooking one of his fingers into a loop at the back of his jeans, that way he can pull Evan against him as he shuts the door. They makeout in the entryway for several minutes, hands rushing to touch the other’s skin.

“Sit on the couch,” Tommy says firmly. Evan’s stomach flips again. He obliges, and sits awkwardly on one side of the couch, leaving room for Tommy, completely oblivious to his intentions. Until Tommy grabs both sides of Evan’s ass and manhandles him onto the center, and finds a comfortable spot between his legs on his knees, then Evan understands where this is going and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t send a sweat down his back.

“I, um,” he struggles. “This is um... Has never happened before.” He’s already a panting, sweaty mess even though he’d been in this position before - granted the subjects on the floor were much more petite, delicate and feminine. This was uncharted territory he definitely wanted to wander into, but he felt like he forgot his flashlight and was walking barefoot in gravel through the expedition.

“It’s alright, kid. I just want to take care of you for tonight if you’ll let me, no expectations.” It reassures him already, and he nods in approbation. “You stop me whenever, tap my shoulder and I’ll be gone.” He chuckles along with Tommy, and bites his bottom lip when he’s already working on his fly. He makes quick work of it; good with his hands, Evan thinks back.

And boy does he prove it fast. Evan’s not sure he even got to take three breaths in before Tommy was running his thumb along the bottom of his head, applying a faint pressure that had his blood pumping just right, filling his length the rest of the way, causing him to hiss sharply through his teeth. There seems to be a surprised excitement in Tommy’s expression, and he’s not sure if it’s at his size or the way he’s pathetically putty in his hands already, but he’d let that live in the back of his mind forever.

“Breathe, baby boy,” Tommy encourages as he pumps him now. It’s not the usual technique he’d use on himself, but Tommy found that one to be a safe bet most of the time. He feels Evan relax under him, his legs falling a little further apart and Tommy takes advantage to creep into the new space. His arms are holding Evan’s hips down, his left hand wanders under his t-shirt onto the tight, soft stomach of the sweet boy before him. He’s in pain, straining the zipper of his jeans and he curses himself for wanting to look nice rather than throw on some sweats. But it’s not about him. He hasn’t had dick in his mouth for way too long now, and when that buff twink walked into the garage, he knew there was something to play with in those hugging blue jeans.

“That’s it,” he praises, kissing the tip and sucking the bead of precum that had threatened to glide down. “You taste so good.”

“Than- Thank you sir,” Evan moans from deep in his chest. Tommy’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he sucks in just the tip, then maybe an inch or two, then three, until Evan is a shaking mess under his grip. He sucks his cheeks in on his way up, trying to wet him as much as possible, before connecting their gaze and sinking down fully in a single movement, his nose poking the taunt pubic flesh. Tommy could almost come in his pants at the sight of Evan’s reaction. He can only imagine nobody had gotten that monster down fully without struggling before, and Tommy secretly thanks his first busy years out of the closet for the practice. He pops off after a few seconds.

“Is that okay?” He’s teasing, of course. The wet sounds of his hand pumping with purpose already answer his question.

“Is that… Are you, are you fucking kidding?” He throws his head back with a punched laugh, sending his cap to fall onto his lap. Tommy grabs it and puts it on backwards, and Evan has to shut his eyes or he’ll embarrass himself in the next seconds. The look makes Tommy pass for one of his team mates, and there’s a jolt in his stomach at the idea of fooling around with him in the lockers in high school. Though the age difference dynamic is still strongly present; he can confirm from the tricks Tommy is pulling on him. “It’s, it’s so good Tommy.” He pulls out his name in a high pitched moan. Tommy knows he doesn’t have that many pulls left before he’s tipping him over the edge.

He pulls the coffee table behind him a little closer, until his body is slightly nudged underneath it, and he gently lifts Evan’s feet so they rest on it, spreading him just how he intends. He doesn’t waste his time plunging in, dragging his nose along the crease of Evan’s thigh, then the other, pushing into his balls in the passing. His hands have found a safe place just under his knees, so his dick can get a break as he explores him, smells him. He digs a little lower, and gives a trial lick to Evan’s taint, reading his immediate moan as a sign to keep going until he’s fully making out with his asshole moments later. Tommy groans into him when he feels the curious drag of the boy’s fingers into his hair,  the cap long discarded, asking him to stay right there just a tad longer until he’s a writhing mess and Tommy knows he’s gotta take action. Evan’s legs are burning, his stomach feels stiff and he’s not sure whether the pressure in his head is from an upcoming aneurysm or simply that he’s never had his soul sucked out of his body this expertly.

Evan doesn’t even realize Tommy’s lips are back around his dick until he teases his teeth along the top of his tip, soothing it immediately with a pass of his tongue, ellissiting the loudest, most embarrassing sound he’s ever let out in his - numerous - sexual experiences. His fingers are going numb into the fabric of the couch, his nails threatening to strip off. But he’s not close to putting a stop to whatever Tommy had going on; he hasn’t peeped down in a few minutes, scared that the sight of Tommy looking back at him would have him spill way too quickly. He’s biting his tongue now, because he’s just as close and doesn’t know how to let Tommy know.

There’s no actual moment to think because the next second, Tommy’s nose is up against his pubes and he swallows around him once, and twice. And maybe a third time for good measure. And Evan has to let him know he’s about to coat the back of his throat before he’s making a fool of himself, but Tommy’s deadly grip onto his hips is acting on his ability to enunciate anything.

“To-” He’s at least going to try. “Tommy,” he adds. He brings a hand to venture into his curls again, tugging a little hoping he catches the clue. But Tommy is urging on and has his mind set on the goal. He looks up, winks at Evan and takes one last breath before sinking back down fully, swishing his tongue on the bottom of Evan’s dick and managing to bring it out just enough to give his balls some attention.

Evan’s ears start ringing, he’s seeing white. Am I fucking dying? Then Tommy pulls back and tugs on him a few times until the string snaps and he’s emptying himself into the cup Tommy formed with his tongue, moaning and screaming and gasping for air and he’s panicking at the never ending ropes. He’d come again if he had any energy left when Tommy retrieves his tongue and swallows his load with a deep groan of satisfaction.

“I knew you’d be fucking sweet,” he states. Tommy runs his hands along Evan’s thighs, soothing the downfall of such a high.  He kisses along the muscles of his stomach and up to his neck, where he lays a long, open-mouth kiss to the sweet spot behind his ear. “Was that okay?” He’s genuinely asking.

“You’ve gotta stop doubting yourself, sir.” Evan puffs out a laugh. “This, um - This was the best fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.” He leans back into the couch and runs a hand into his hair, still unsure if the light from earlier wasn’t the end of the tunnel. But the warmth Tommy radiates around his body proves he’s still very alive..

“Well, I’m glad you had a good time, baby,” Tommy answers, daring a quick peck to his lips. He gets up and extends his hands to help Evan up also, making the poor boy realize the big problem he’s created;

“Do you, um. Should I-” He looks down.

“Oh, kitten, no. Don’t worry about me, okay?” Tommy deflects his intentions, hoping to buy himself a separate alone time with the pretty boy. “Plus, I’ll see you tomorrow for your appointment, huh?” He winks. Evan makes a mental note to be refreshed and energized for the day, already planning his undeniable turn for the deed. There’s a light stress in his chest at the thought of having his first experience as a giver with a man be so soon. But he’s on fire standing in front of the most handsome man he’s ever seen, who’s more than likely going to ravish him as soon as he lifts a finger, so he’s not going to fuck this chance up.

“I’ll be there on time, sir.” He nods, walking with Tommy to the front door. He owes him at least a decent goodnight.

“Bring that cute smile of yours.” Tommy has Evan blushing effortlessly, but he’s feeling a little bold. Before Tommy’s hand can turn the handle, he’s got him plastered to the door, and rushes to kiss him silly, moaning and toying with his tongue until they’re both breathless again - and as a preview, lets his hand cup at the slowly dying erection in Tommy’s jeans, earning a playful bite to his bottom lip.

“I’ll bring more than that.”

[truth-orflare]

Well, i'm on this website, apparently...

Taco, i may want to assure you. There are more ways to interact with people other than putting them in a truth-or-dare sessio-

Be. Quiet.

...As you wish.

...Anyways, with THAT out of the way, you may go on ahead with your questions, and send them right this way.

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RULES:

no weird asks or anything, no getting freaky with a literal taco

i've watched ALL of S2 as of e16: "The Reality Of The Situation", but if i get something off (since i skipped s1), feel free to correct me on that.

this takes place sometime after e15, i'd assume most of you have seen that, so feel free to interact

much like the mephonex blog, rp'ing is fine, anon magic isn't (idfk what the lore reason is this time there's just too many rp blogs that go through some form of traumatic event thanks to M!A's)

much like the mephonex blog, feel free to interact with this blog.. with YOUR II askblogs! this IS an II askblog after all, so go on with that.

anon signoff is -🌮 btw

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DNI LIST (wow who woulda guessed?):

shippers (i just don't get the appeal, sorry)

offensive, and / or problematic things in general

steve cobs fans (DNI DNI DNIIIIIII RAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH)

<---------------------------------------------------------------------------->

TAGS:

#taco's rambling - in-character text posts

#mepad appears - for whenever mepad either answers an ask or is just with taco in general

#taco's reblogging - in-character reblogs

#ooc: out of character text posts or reblogs, you can see this when the text is purely uncolored, and is in all lowercase, these will all start in "ooc:"

#noncanon: for when going beyond the point of canon for ii

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FORMATTING:

GREEN and RED text: taco herself!, example: "You can't teleport either, or rather.. On your own accord."

PURPLE text: mepad, example: "I can't feel much of anything."

*text*: action

small: usually used by mepad, as he's talking over taco's usual ramblings

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"But i will break this cycle, unlike all of those snakes whom i call to condemn! If i can't win this prize, i'll play this last reprisal!" /lyr (from Taco's Tirade)

[cozza-frenzy]

Fanfic: A Perfect Moment

Of all the places I could be, I just want to be here with you. Hello again, fandom! It’s been less than a week (apparently??) and @chronicsheepdrawing‘s amazing character designs are still keeping my creativity train rolling! This fic once again stars their Drinky Bird Narrator - so if you’re not familiar, go check out a silly bird! (He certainly needs more love, given how he thinks of himself... ) This is a sequel (of sorts) to Anything Not Saved. It happens some time afterwards, after more resets and endings have taken place. Expect a dark chocolate Angst Cake with plenty of Mutual Pining, layers of Fluffy Stannarrator between each layer, and a Meta cherry on top - trust me, you’ll see what I mean. And my apologies to any ASL users; I did at least try to do some research, but I can’t vouch for my accuracy! CONTENT WARNINGS: Isolation, Paranoia, Abandonment Issues, Self-Hatred, Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Emotional Breakdown, Memory Loss, Panic Attack, Touch Aversion, Autistic Sensory Overload/Over-Stimulation. I’m also adding a mild Unreality Warning to this one. If you’re looking at a reblog of this post, there are details in the tags of the original if you feel like you may be triggered by this. For everyone else, the tags are a minor spoiler, so maybe don’t look unless you’re really curious. Bon Appetit!

Stanley? STANLEY!? Oh my god, Stanley! Stanley, thank goodness - something VERY peculiar is going on this morning… See, it all started when I booted up my computer this morning - and you’ll never believe it, but I wasn’t receiving any commands! NONE! So I asked one of the other Employees what was going on, and they must not have known, because they didn’t say anything! What do you think; should I perhaps try the meeting room? Do you think maybe I missed a memo? I mean I really don’t want to interrupt anything, not to mention the sheer embarrassment of walking into something like that, not only unannounced but LATE- Wait, I’m not done! Stanley, I’m not - oh, sorry, sorry, of course! It’s precisely 10:32 AM, of course  you always get a drink of water from the cooler at this time in the morning… haha, typical silly old ▇▇▇▇▇▇, am I right? I swear, I’d lose my head if it wasn't permanently attached to my neck! But, ah, anyway, Stanley, I just feel like… like something’s wrong? I mean, have you noticed how some things are, eh, just… you know… ‘off’? Like did you know Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]’s desk is empty? I mean, it looks like they haven’t touched their pencil sharpener in weeks! In fact, now that… now that I’ve thought about it… Stanley, did we ever HAVE an Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]? I mean surely we wouldn’t have a desk without an employee! That’s ridiculous! But why can’t I seem to… ? Ah, yes, alright, I know work is important and I know  I tend to ramble but- please, just hear me out?? Look, I know I must be trying your patience! I know my ‘little stories’ are utterly insufferable to literally EVERY other employee in this building! But you, you always stopped to listen and - waitwaitwait, I’m sorry, just - please! Please Stanley, I’m ALWAYS supposed to receive my instructions and now I can’t even access my bloody terminal! I mean, how ELSE am I supposed to make sure the other employees are doing their jobs correctly?? Didn’t the board hand down that notice just last week!? You know, the one reiterating how vital it is to the well-being of the company that all of us, together- Stanley? Stanley, where are you going-? Can… can you hear me? Can you even SEE me!? Wait! Stanley! Stanley, I’m right here! I’m right HERE! Why aren’t you looking at me? Why aren’t you LOOKING at me!? STANLEY! STANLEY, PLEASE!! DON’T LEAVE M- Oh… …Oh no… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ah, memories… Wonderful, wonderful memories. So much exquisitely-crafted content to reminisce over. He’d worked so hard on crafting this place; he’d fashioned every detail with care and precision. Yes, there would be trees here, a nice little fence there… oh, perhaps a few flowers, for a little splash of color! Yes, yes! The sound of birds, the smell of grass, the sky just a little overcast... yes indeed, not too bright, nor too gloomy. The light would hit just perfect this way, painting everything in soft and muted shades. Wonderful. Those clouds would be the whipped cream on this lovely little slice of the world, so close to being served and savored. And like a nervous, fidgeting pastry chef, the anticipation of someone experiencing this delectable delicacy had him practically giddy! The Narrator took a deep breath through the nose he maybe didn’t have, filling absent lungs with fresh air; and heaved a heavy sigh as he closed his plastic eyes, calming himself down. Wouldn’t be long now, he thought, chuckling softly. Stanley had fallen for his little breadcrumb trail the very minute he’d opened that vent… and any minute now, he’d be marveling at the inexplicably out of place stone archway. Manifested as if in a dream, a glowing portal to another realm, right there in the office… He rocked back on his heels a little, humming merrily to himself as he waited. Ah, he was proud of that little room; so mysterious, so enticing. A beautiful fragment of memory that he’d dusted off and polished up, until it glittered in his mind’s eye like a priceless diamond. Not half bad for something he’d forcibly yanked from the tangled, mangled wreckage that had been left behind in his head, when he’d stopped being human and become something- The Narrator cleared his nonexistent throat, straightening his tie. No, no, not today, he scolded himself internally. That so-called ‘Ultra Deluxe’ content’ had been so unfathomably disappointing, he’d had no choice but to do better! To show them just how great The Stanley Parable used to be! And any minute now, the hero of their story would be walking through that door to the most wonderful surprise. “Just our little secret”, The Narrator said as he felt Stanley’s presence. He was right behind him now, and getting closer. “Take a look.” He turned around, eager to see his protagonist’s reaction. He watched as Stanley shielded his eyes; the fingertips on his other hand tracing the surface of the cool stone pillar, as he stepped out into the memory of warm daylight. And the Narrator’s heart swelled with pride as he heard the soft gasp of wonder - the exact reaction he’d been looking for. “I call it - the Memory Zone!” He said, turning towards the path before him. “It’s where I keep all of my favorite memories… ” Not too far away was a squat, triangular building, full of snippets he’d painstakingly selected and organized for display. He’d come here a few times himself while it was still under construction; just to re-live some of the moments he’d preserved. As soon as Stanley stepped through that door, he would… wait… The Narrator froze suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. He’s got that look again. He’s… looking at me! Damn it, he’d been so caught up in what he was doing, he’d forgotten to unload his model! Alright, alright, maybe if he acted quickly enough, Stanley would dismiss it as simply a brief glitch- >/console >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND What?? Clenching his glove-fist in frustration, he reached into the code and tried again. >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND >/locate Narrator.mdl ERROR: POSITION NOT VALID The Narrator closed the console. That warm, fuzzy feeling of pride was quickly disintegrating under the freezing grasp of fear. He’d built the Memory Zone in a place so well hidden it was only outside the bloody map!!! And now there were footsteps behind him! And like the absolute fool he was, he turned around! Stanley was approaching. Slowly drawing closer. Each step ticking away the seconds to his doom. It’s okay, he reassured himself. You can pass it off as the Easter Egg from last time - just using it as a puppet to welcome him and nothing more! His face flushed. Stanley was right in front of him. He tried not to think about what muscles he may or may not still have - but regardless of their supposed existence, they all tensed at once, leaving him stiff as a board, frozen in terror. But he could work with this, right? Yes, he could! He could work with this! He could improvise, he improvised all the time-! Just don’t move…. Stanley looked into The Narrator’s eyes, his hands held tightly to his chest. …And he’ll lose interest eventually… Stanley moved his hand. It trembled as he held it out in front of him, slowly reaching forwards. Stanley… ? Stanley bit his lip. Wait, Stanley, what are you doing-? And Stanley touched him. The boggled look on the Narrator’s face shattered any previously-held records in the history of boggling. Stanley was touching him. Stanley’s hand was touching him. Stanley’s… warm, gentle hand... the pads of his fingertips slightly rough, slightly calloused. Each one a scar from another life; from the only life he’d known before The Parable. Continuously, rhythmically pressing buttons, over and over. Day in, day out. Broken fragments of memory flashed before the Narrator’s eyes in a sudden flood of noise; a disjointed, jumbled mess, utterly out of context and out of order. The taste of coffee in a paper cup. Stanley’s eyes. The bubble of the water cooler.  Conversation. Buttons marked “YES” and “NO”. His hands, his human hands, nails painted in an office-appropriate shade. A phone ringing. Stanley’s smile. A rising sense of panic. A snippet of a half-finished anecdote. Waking up. Blacking out. Laughter. Fire and pain and then nothing. A lunch break. An office-mandated birthday cake. A board meeting. An office-wide memo. Stanley’s hands. Stanley’s hands. He felt the tears welling up. He wrestled with the memories that hardly made sense, momentarily gaining the upper hand, only to find himself smacked senseless by the feeling of overwhelming grief that spiraled out of the current moment and skewered his heart. He twisted his head this way and that - desperately trying to get his stupid, stupid body to move! This was wrong! This was all wrong! “STOP!!!” The Narrator screamed, finally managing to pull away Stanley recoiled as if he’d been burned, and the Narrator turned from him, clutching the sides of his head as he struggled to get a grip, struggled to cram all of those horrible, horrible feelings back down inside himself where they belonged. NO NO NO NO NO NO-! The illusion is ruined! He definitely knows it’s me now! But ahead of him lay his last hope. His last chance at salvaging something, anything, from this horrendous mistake he’d made. The display area! If I can just get to it then I won’t have to face him! he thought to himself. He’d have to be quick, he’d have to take advantage of Stanley being distracted, but he could do this. He could make it! He could… he could just figure out the rest later, he had to GO! The Narrator started to run; and realized his fatal mistake too late. Inside his inhuman, transparent stomach, a sizable amount of liquid sloshed noisily back and forth. The more he ran, the more it sloshed. Back and forth, back and forth. Slish, slosh, slish, slosh… the momentum of each wave slowly building... and building... until-! “AH!!” One of his feet caught on an uneven memory of grass. All that heavy liquid, all that momentum, SLOSHED all the way to his front. And as these things tend to work with the laws of physics, the weight sent him tumbling forward onto his stupid idiot face, sliding across the ground a few feet before he finally came to a stop. The Narrator rocked gently back and forth from the still-sloshing liquid in the transparent globe of his belly, knowing exactly how he looked. It was a sight that would leave a professional circus clown weeping; hanging up his red nose and floppy shoes for the last time, his worldview in ruins. Witnessing such a sight, he’d know, deep in his heart, that no carefully coordinated pratfall or precisely timed nose honk - not a single artfully-placed whoopee cushion or expertly thrown custard pie - could ever come close to such breathtaking buffoonery. This is it. Stanley is never going to take me seriously ever again. The tears came thick and fast now, leaving the despairing Narrator gasping for breath between sobs. He’ll laugh at me. He’ll mock any sort of narrative I’ll try and create. Anything I try, no matter how wonderful, no matter how meaningful, it’ll be just a big joke. Like ME. Stanley stood over the Narrator, casting a shadow over him as he lay on the floor. The Narrator glanced over his shoulder, his fingers digging into the memories of grass and dirt beneath them and ripping them apart. Suddenly, hopelessness had given way to white-hot fury; Go on, he silently, bitterly urged his protagonist. Do it, you cretin. Finish me off. Put me out of my misery. Break my story! Break my heart! Break ME! Burn it all down, grind it all into the dirt where it belongs-! Stanley held out his hand. The Narrator looked up at him, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He was - for perhaps the first time in his life - speechless. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile; a man named Stanley had overstepped, and he knew it. <It’s you.> He’d signed, mere moments ago. <It’s really you… > Oh of course that shrill, annoying little voice in his head known as Common Sense had screamed at him endlessly. It stomped its little feet, tore out its hair, hammered its little fists on the bars of the bespoke and utterly inescapable cage that situations like this always built to contain it. No, stop! It cried. You mustn’t! But Stanley’s hand had moved of its own accord. He just had to know. He had to know if what he was seeing in front of him was really, really real. He had to know if what seemed like a memory of a dream of a memory - of someone he’d once felt close to - actually meant something. And then he’d touched The Narrator. Stanley’s hand shook when it had first met that plastic cheek; but feeling the smooth surface, he couldn’t help but relax from its reassuring familiarity. It was almost like a button, if a button was surprisingly warm. And despite feeling almost exactly like plastic, there was something indescribable, something wonderfully and beautifully alive about it. This was plastic with a pulse, and it made his fingertips tingle... His gently questing fingers found hair next. If he’d been one for poetry, he might have compared its color to fresh-fallen snow, kissed by the morning sun, but such metaphors escaped a mind such as his. Stanley was a simple man; not stupid, at least not usually, but his world had been small before the Parable swallowed him up. His memories of his old life were limited mostly to what he’d done at the office. But he vaguely remembered seeing a color like that, at work, in some kind of context… by the water cooler, during some kind of talk… and he knew he’d wondered, more than once, if it was as soft and fluffy as it looked. And as he stroked it gently... yes, apparently, it was that soft. A little stiffer than he’d imagined, maybe, but at least it looked nice and fluffy. Stanley felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. He hadn’t been sure what to think at first, but one word was slowly coming to mind, and that word was- “STOP!!!” Suddenly, abruptly, Stanley half-remembered and half-realized that softness was attached to The Narrator, and the shock may as well have electrified his arm. He pulled away; and seeing The Narrator’s reaction, his poor, simple heart sunk all the way to his feet. He knew he’d pushed things too far, he knew he’d done something dangerously close to Workplace Inappropriate Physical Contact, but had he hurt him-?? The Narrator turned and tried to run. Stanley scrambled after him, longing to cry out; Wait, please! I’m sorry! Don’t despawn again! The Narrator tripped and fell. Stanley, overcome with worry, rushed to his side, extending his hand. The Narrator just… looked at him. He was breathing heavily, his eyes full of tears, his fingers covered in dirt and crushed bits of grass. <I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!> Stanley signed repeatedly; in his desperation, he couldn’t even remember the next part of the Workplace Apology Procedure. The Narrator was still silent; and Stanley’s heart sunk further and further as his frustration grew and grew. Half-formed signs spilled from his shaking hands as his own tears began to rally the troops, fat drops ready to march down his cheeks in double time as he bit his tongue - why was this so hard, why was this so hard?? Mustering every bit of bravery an office worker of his rank possibly could, Stanley fell back on his last resort. Extending his hand again, he crossed the fingers on his other hand, holding them up so The Narrator could see them clearly; <R> Next, he held two fingers up; <U> His fingers formed a circle; <O> And lastly, two fingers split, like a peace sign; <K> “Am I… okay??” The Narrator’s words were strangled with emotion; but just hearing him say something, say anything, was enough for a wave of relief to wash over our daring hero. Smiling, Stanley beckoned with his extended hand, and The Narrator finally grasped it. It was soft, like the tasteful suede they used for the chairs in the Boss’ Office, and Stanley found himself subconsciously running his thumb over a line of neat stitches as he helped the poor man off the ground. The Narrator teetered on his feet for a moment, seeming unsteady. Stanley tilted his head slightly; what was that strange sloshing noise… ? But The Narrator sniffled, bowing his head again, and Stanley immediately snapped to attention. Yes, he knew just what to do! Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a packet of Office-Issued Disposable Handkerchiefs - an employee’s best friend for any sneeze, sniffle, or non-fatal accident involving coffee - and handed one to The Narrator. “Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator dabbed at his eyes, and blew his nose like a foghorn. Stanley looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and utterly helpless confusion. He could only ever recall hearing him so utterly distraught once before, and that was… not a memory he really wanted to dig into. Was this really his fault? Had he deviated too much? Had he ruined his story again… ? “I don’t understand… I just don’t understand… ” sobbed the Narrator; ”Why are you being so nice to me?” Stanley was utterly dumbfounded. He couldn’t even bring himself to start signing, but the What!? was so implicit that The Narrator looked up in surprise <BECAUSE! I’M! HAPPY! TO SEE YOU!> Stanley signed with undeniable emphasis, holding his hands right at the Narrator’s eye level. Unable to hold back his own tears for a fraction of a second longer, the armies came marching forth in torrents. Stanley was happy. Stanley was angry. Stanley was frustrated, overwhelmed, overstimulated, and so desperate he felt like he was drowning. His lip quivered, his whole body shaking from the effort, but he had to do this, he had to be brave. This was what he’d waited for. This was his hope. Somewhere, far far back in his memories, something stirred. Before the Parable. Before beginnings and endings. Before he’d ever known what a ‘Reset’ was, those memories were reaching out to him. Memories of a face half-remembered, and a name long forgotten. Memories of someone speaking his name, over and over, instead of addressing him simply as ‘427’. A kindly smile. Uproarious, mischievous laughter. Coffee with cream and a disproportionate amount of sugar. Passing a slice of store-bought birthday cake, and accidentally brushing hands under the paper plate. <STAY!> And stories. Every day, there were stories. The other employees called it rambling, called it irritating, called it inefficient and unproductive… but to him, they were little stories… <HERE!!> Stanley strained from the effort. <PLEASE!!!> And The Narrator touched him back. Stanley froze in place. He was hyperventilating, gasping for every breath between silent sobs, but his hands finally lay still. The Narrator’s hands were holding them; silencing them. But Stanley didn’t mind; in fact, he welcomed it. He was at his breaking point. His heart and his head were both full to bursting. So many feelings. So many words. This wasn’t what he was good at. This wasn’t what he was meant for. But now, standing right across from him, was someone who was. Standing there, gently holding Stanley’s hands, was me. His Narrator. Let’s shift the perspective again, shall we? —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ahhh, there! That’s much better… feels like having a really good stretch after you’ve been sitting in the same place for a while, don’t you think? Let’s just take a moment to let the story settle… to take a deep breath, maybe have a sip of water…. to appreciate just how far we’ve come. …Now, uh, where was I… ? Oh, yes! Anyway; slowly but surely, I found my footing again. Our heads had been in the clouds long enough, and now I was pulling us both back to Earth, back into whatever passed for reality in this place. My thumbs gently stroked the back of Stanley’s hands; giving him something real to cling to. Giving my nervous hands something to do with themselves. And the moment I saw the tension leave his shoulders, I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. <You’re really here… > Stanley looked down at my hands and their irremovable gloves. Despite my fears, there was no rejection, no cruel mockery; just quiet fascination. Again, that same look, as his eyes moved up from there to my chest and to my face. And needless to say, it didn’t take an omniscient narrator to understand what his eyes were asking me. “Yes, Stanley. Go ahead.” Stanley reached out; I leaned my head into his hand this time, letting him know me through touch. And don’t you dare pass judgment - this is very hard for me to admit to - but it took everything I had not to burst into soppy tears all over again. We were old friends who’d just met. Two halves of the same soul, reunited at last. Surely a meeting like this was written on all the stars in the infinite cosmos, and upon every grain of sand in the- Stanley reached out a finger and ‘booped’ my nose. He laughed uproariously; not at me, but with me, as I somehow found a small chuckle growing into a full-on belly laugh. I just couldn’t help myself! This entire, bizarre situation we’d once again found ourselves in… the two of us so helpless, messy, and stupid... it felt so good to come so utterly undone. We were just a couple of total idiots, Stanley and I. Standing there and giggling like lunatics. And then… I found myself overcome by a strange impulse of my own. Seized by a brief moment of temporary insanity, perhaps. Taking a small step back, I opened my arms. Stanley didn’t hesitate for a single second. He fell into them like he was coming home; like he’d just had the longest work day in the universe, and someone had just presented him with the fluffiest feather bed in existence. Nearly bloody bowled me over again, with all his enthusiasm. But I looked down at Stanley - and he looked so happy, well... uh... you know what? I’ll give you the incomparable joy of picturing in your head just how happy he was. What?? No, I’m not lost for words! Me? Lost for words? Ugh, of all the… no, no, let’s not ruin this. This one right here is all yours. No, go ahead, take it. Don’t say I never do anything for you. But, ahem - to continue our scene, we were both sitting down now, right there on the ground. Stanley had his ear to my stomach, listening to whatever the hell liquid is in there slosh back and forth, as he rocked himself gently in place. There was no way he could realize how he was reminding me, with each slosh, of what I am. Of how I’ve changed. Of what I’ve lost. But for the first time since I could remember… I didn’t hate it. At least, not entirely. Perhaps I could get used to that, in enough time. Around us, the memory of birds sang, and the memory of a breeze gently rustled the memories of grass and flowers. Somewhere in the distance, a memory of a piano was playing itself - ah yes, I’d almost forgotten about that. Perhaps we’d see it later. Perhaps we’d sit on the bench I’d placed nearby, and look at the view. Perhaps talk to one another, instead of just at one another. Yes… that would be nice, wouldn’t it… But between Stanley and I; right here, and right now? There’s a glittering silence between us; one that outshines any other memory I’d care to rescue from the scrap heap. Things, I realize, are falling into place. As gentle as snow, as warm and welcome as the light of dawn. This, I can tell, is what I’ve been waiting for all this time; what I’ve been striving for, over and over, with each and every branching path. A perfect moment.

[dinluke-ao3feed]

PODFICSome Like it Rambling

Read it on https://archiveofourown.org/works/60400837 by itsyaboimothman ***PODFIC*** To those that know him, Luke is a well-known nervous rambler. To those that don't, they can't square his Jedi persona with his wildly clumsy gestures as he talks non-stop about anything and everything. All parties feel sympathy at the sight of Din Djarin apparently trapped by the Jedi's stories, and attempt to mount a rescue. Only the Mand'alor doesn't seem to want to be rescued, much to their confusion. A series of observers realize that perhaps they'd misread the relationship between the Jedi and Mand'alor, and fondly do their part to usher the two together. Because they need all the help they can get. Words: 11, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of ***PODFIC*** When Din Met Luke Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Chewbacca (Star Wars), Lando Calrissian, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Wedge Antilles, Wes Janson, Derek "Hobbie" Klivian, Bo-Katan Kryze, Paz Vizsla, Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker Additional Tags: Idiots in Love, Pining, Sunshine Luke Skywalker, Smitten Din Djarin, Luke Rambles When He's Nervous, he also geestures a lot, Protective Din Djarin, Clumsy Luke Skywalker, no mandalorain season 3 spoilers, Discussion of Ducks, and sand, Everyone thinks Din Needs Rescuing From Luke's Rambling, but he doesn't want rescued, Their Friends Just Want Them To Get Together Already, Confusion, Matchmaking, As a Team, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, POV Outsider, As They Watch This Hot Mess, teamwrk makes the dream work, din djarin learns about star wars, everyone's heavy sigh, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes

[k1nky-fool]

They Called Her Mania

Part 3/?

Masterlist

Doom Slayer/ OC (Mania)

Pairing: M/F

Rating: Explicit (NSFW)

Warnings: horny filth, size kink, oral (f-recieving), some dom/sub dynamics, but both are switches.

For @ninjarose23 because you were kind enough to comment on my last chapter.

-X-

It was unfortunate what he found on the other side of the gate. There was minimal demon resistance. Apparently it actually took a bit longer for a place to fill back up after he'd cleared it.

He procured his helmet, and he found the sweater that Mania had left behind. However, her twig was in a less than ideal condition.

It had completely snapped in half; probably the result of a larger demon stepping on it. More unfortunate that the demon hadn't at least gotten stuck in the foot with the nails, but the bat was not in any state to be repaired.

He would definitely have to find her a new weapon. Mania had said she was near-sighted. Which meant the majority of guns would be out of the picture. Not to mention, she was also nearly half his size, so any of the wide-range, heavy weapons were also not viable. Though there was definitely one gun she would probably thrive with: shotgun.

It wasn't a good idea to try to hit a demon with a shotgun at long range anyway. But a sawed-off barrel and a melee weapon would be right up her alley. It was absolutely stunning to see her work with a melee weapon.

Small, soft, Mania, that could kill anything she came across, and leave him begging just to let him touch her. The thought of holding her came back full swing, only now he wished he'd ignored Vega, and pinned her to the workbench just to see how much of her fantasy she'd let him get to before stopping him.

"Your heart rate has risen with no exterior motivation, and I am reading a spike in testosterone." Vega commented.

There was never a time he wished he could smack Vega before, but he was coming dangerously close to it. "I'm heading back."

The portal opened, and he stepped back into the threshold of the Fortress. Mania was nowhere to be seen. He headed back to his workshop, taking off the armor, and leaving the retrieved items there, while he went off to take a shower.

He didn't know how many hours he'd been awake at this point, but Vega hadn't mentioned that he was nearing the edge of his sleep schedule, so he would continue on for now.

Mania was still absent, and she didn't come to the workshop. He knew she'd talk to him when she was ready. But he couldn't pressure her into saying or doing anything. He certainly couldn't pressure her into trusting him.

The slight burnout from working tirelessly on his armor repairs was getting to him, though. Vega would have to run a diagnostic on his armor, anyway. Instead of burning himself out further, he took a book off the shelf and left to rest in his room.

Surprise came when Mania was waiting for him outside the bedroom. She looked frozen in place, struggling to say anything at all. He just opened the door, and let her step inside first.

It took her only a moment to be sure of her choice and take his invitation. "Umm… your room is bigger than mine."

"The Fortress was a command center. This was supposed to be a general's room, but yours was a vice commander's." He explained. She looked around at his excuse of decor. Most of it was just guitars, shelves of vinyl records and video games, and old Metal band posters.

"Well, you certainly found your niche." She chuckled, though the silence he left open made it awkward, and it was getting to her. "I- I'm sorry I freaked out on you. I- I just… you've been nothing but kind to me, but I still- … you didn't deserve that, and you-"

"I'm not angry at you." He interrupted her rambling. He went to sit down on his bed, leaving enough room for her to do the same if she wanted. "You got scared. It happens." He said, "The least I could do is trust you with my name."

She pulled his tags out of her pocket, undoing the small tangle. "Flynn B. Taggart." She read off. "I figured you were probably a marine. I knew a few that worked at the shop and you remind me a bit of them the way you carry yourself. At least it's not the same as army guys."

"Figures nothing much had changed in the hundred years I was gone." He chuckled.

"Well, I find military guys are creatures of habit." She remembered. "Even you have your habits."

A teasing smile spread across his face. "Oh, you've been looking into my habits now."

"Not on purpose" She defended, sitting down on the bed with him. "You're just really obvious."

"I am not-"

"You have terrible posture when you're around the Fortress," She began, "but every time I walk into the room, you straighten right the fuck up."

"Alright, you found one habit-"

"You also bite your tongue when you're concentrating." She pointed out.

"I- " she was right.

"You also crack your knuckles like I do." She listed, "And when you zone out while working, you hum the tunes of Metallica songs. And those are just small habits. Imagine what I could find in a month or even a year." She added.

"And what makes you so good at finding my habits?" He asked.

"Well, being a little scared of you made me try to analyze the hell out of you." She shrugged. "But most of it is because you are very difficult to ignore."

"Oh? And why's that?" He smiled.

"Well, you're absolutely massive, I'll start with that." She teased, barely managing to hide her snickering.

"Really? Maybe you're just small."

"I am quite tall for someone of my profile, thank you very much!" She feigned offense, and still laughed.

"Then why are you so easy to pick up?"

"Flynn!" She laughed as he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her, only to plop her back down on the soft mattress.

"What else?" He asked, holding himself up so he didn't fall on her.

"Well, you certainly aren't difficult to look at." She chuckled, looking up at him, pink dusting her cheeks. "Makes it a little easier to pick up on things when I'm looking at you anyway."

"Mania-"

"Tara."

He actually felt his heart leap at her correction.

"M-My name is Tara Callaghan." She said softly.

Tara. It was a beautiful name, for a beautiful woman. It wasn't riddled with distrust, or something a demon would ever say. It was hers.

"Tara." He repeated. He was close enough to her, that he could hear her take a fast breath in and out, and he could even see her pupils dilate, even as her eyelashes fluttered. "I like that name."

The rise and fall of her chest became more sporadic as she glanced around his face for some clue, anything that could give her a hint as to what was going on in his head at that moment.

Flynn himself wasn't fairing much better. Just the fact he was paying such close attention to her eyes, and her breathing told him enough. He wasn't searching for anything as he glanced around her face. He simply admired her.

Tara's hair fell around the pillow like a dark halo. Green eyes still looked around to solve the puzzle that was Flynn Taggart. While her face usually held an array of freckles and spots, each one was disappearing in the low light, the redder her face became. Her mouth opened as though to say something, but it was like she was still pulling the syllables out of her brain while Flynn's grip on her side tightened the more he thought of what he wanted to do to her. It took everything in him to not give in, but the thought of scaring her away was more terrifying than any demon he's faced.

"Flynn." She said it almost like a warning, but it came out mostly like a plea.

I'm fucked.

"Tara?" She had much clearer attention on listening to him now. "May I kiss you-"She didn't wait a second to let him finish asking before she'd grabbed the sides of his face and claimed the kiss for herself.

Flynn also figured he wouldn't waste time, and kissed her back with the same eagerness she'd attacked him with. She really did kiss like she meant to fight him; some personal inner rampage they'd both been holding back, only for her to draw it out of him when he was trying to keep it under control.

He let his hand leave her side, running it up her stomach and chest, and taking her face in his hand, forcibly slowing her down a tad. She couldn't stop the way she whined, as his pace slowed.

Flynn was effectively holding her down, and making her take it slower. It wasn't easy to get her buzzing excitement to turn to a deliberate pace, but he wasn't budging. Tara's frantic pursuit gave in to her need to show him she could be good. At least this time. She could let him take the lead, and not have to prove she was too strong to be taken care of.

She didn't want to be too strong for this; Flynn was a weakness she wanted to accept. But when his fingers trace her jaw like feathers, he wasn't a weakness, but a carer. Tara could be vulnerable, and Flynn would touch her like he knew just how raw she was under her shell she just abandoned.

He pulled his lips away from hers, and moved from his spot on the bed. He got up on his knees, and easily pulled Tara's legs open to let him sit between them. He leaned over her, tracing touches up her ribs, and kissed the soft spot of her pulse on her neck, feeling just how rapid the rhythm was that made her mind rush. More kisses to her neck made her whimper, and tense for only a second at a time.

"Tara." He rasped. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Please don't." She breathed out. "Please, don't stop, Flynn." It stirred something in him the way she begged him to keep going. It was like he'd been waiting years to hear her say that.

Despite his teasing, he knew he was quite intimidating, especially now that he could see his hands in intimate comparison to her body. Flynn's hand covered from just under her ribcage, to dangerously close to her hip bone.

Flynn also knew his strength. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, or worse, scare her. He tried to keep all of this in mind as he let himself sneak a hand under the tank top she wore. "Still alright?"

"Yes- please just-" Her words died out in the moan as he slipped his hand under her bra and easily palmed her and pinched a nipple. "-Fuck.."

She took the opportunity to lift her whole top over her head, leaving her bare chest beneath him. He was about to enjoy what he had, but her fingers in his short hair, pulling gently stopped him. "Your turn first." She commanded.

Flynn didn't even let himself think over it before his shirt was on the floor. Anything to enjoy the half naked blessing under him.

She moaned and gasped as he gave small pinches to her exposed chest. Flynn let himself indulge in putting a hard nipple in his mouth, and letting Tara scratch at his scalp, being unable to get a grip on his short hair.

His short hair became more of an inconvenience to her as he made his way lower, making quick work of her shorts, exposing her wet, dripping, pussy.

However, he didn't let Tara off easy. Flynn took his time, giving soft kisses to her thighs, still playing it safe and not biting. He couldn't wait to hear her come completely undone at the mercy of his tongue, but he wanted to hear her ask for it.

"What do you want, Tara?" He asked, confidently, knowing she would struggle with her request.

"Mmm- you know~" It was like music to hear the strain in her voice, trying to get the words past moans and heavy breathing.

"I'm not sure I do know." He placed a kiss so close to her throbbing clit that she almost felt like punching him, but all she could manage was a weak attempt at pushing his head where she wanted it. They both knew that her strength was nowhere near enough to make him do anything he wasn't already planning on doing. "Use your words, Tara."

"I- I- please, Flynn- just-" Tara whined at him.

He's barely touched her and she's falling apart. "Please what?"

"Please- fuck- make me cum on your tongue." She broke.

That's all he really wanted to hear. "Well when you ask so nicely."

His tongue licked from her hole to clit before he sucked hard enough for her to see stars. Not even ten seconds in and she could feel the tension building up in her core. Flynn didn't slow at any point, despite how she clawed and attempted to pull at his hair, or how her soft thighs squeezed around his head.

What was simultaneously the worst and best of how he circled his tongue around her clit, was that she couldn't pull him away, or push him down. Flynn locked his arms around her hips, and no matter how much she struggled, there was no moving against him unless he wanted her to.

"Fuck! Flynn, I'm- I'm gonna-" she completely fell apart as her thighs tightened around his head and she all but screamed out.

Flynn savored how she spasmed around his tongue before he got up to take a look at her. Tara's chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace, slowing ever so slightly as she came down from her high.

She sat up, and accepted his kiss as he came up also. Tara could taste herself on him, but she didn't really care. She also placed kisses on Flynn's jaw and throat as he removed the rest of his clothes. Though, Tara had no intentions of letting him stay in charge.

The second he was slightly off balance, Tara gripped him and flipped him under her.

"Fuck- Tara!" He groaned out as she grinded down on him.

"I think it's my turn." Tara chuckled as she looked over his form under her. Many on Earth saw him as a god. Many more in hell imagined him as a titan or a legend. There certainly was some sort of power trip that was not wasted on Tara as the thought of holding a god beneath her went through her mind.

Though as of now, he wasn't The Slayer. He wasn't a god, a titan or a legend. Flynn was just a man. A man she trusted and wanted to get absolutely ruined by, but still just a man.

Tara moved on top of him, dragging a massive, twitching, cock up and down her dripping pussy. Flynn was clearly trying to control himself by holding onto the outside of her thighs, but she could tell he was slowly losing it with how his fingers dug into her flesh, and would probably leave little bruises.

"-Tara, please."

Suddenly his desire to hear her beg for him to make her cum was understood. "Please what?"

She could tell when he realized the script was flipped on him. Once at breakfast, again at the scanner rig, and now while she kept his release just out of reach until he asked her for it. He always kept away from eye contact before eventually coming to terms with how he'd been bested.

It was quite entertaining to watch his face while his mind blanked of all coherent sentences while she felt down his chest. "I'm not moving until you tell me what you want."

"Make me cum." It was almost like he was angry with himself that it took him so long to form the words. "Please."

"I'll take that." Tara smiled, finally sinking down on his thick cock. It was difficult to take him. When he finally bottomed out, she had to stop for a moment to adjust to the size of him. Tara might need to admit she was a little too ambitious, but she was eventually able to move, lifting her hips and falling down again, earning a soft groan from Flynn.

He could tell she was struggling, but it didn't bother him. Instead, he sat up, and wrapped strong arms tightly around her waist and hips. He started lifting her and moving with a slow, deliberately rough, pace, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Tara was seeing stars. Her arms wrapped around his neck, losing grip on her self control every time he hit that one spot. As her second orgasm built up, Flynn's thrusts became quicker and sporadic, like he was more desperate to feel every inch of her.

He began mumbling low assurances into her neck as she cried with how rough he became. "You're beautiful. It's ok, you're doing so good. You feel so good. It's ok." Flynn gave small kisses to her pulse and throat in between sweet words.

"S' so much."

"You can take it. It's ok." He assured her again. The rough pace, with soft words sent her over the edge, and he was followed soon after.

Neither of them moved while coming down from the high. Neither wanting to let go and have to process anything else for a while other than being wrapped up in each other's arms.

When they did move, he was hesitant to let her touch leave him. Tara noticed, and gave a soft smile. "I'm not about to disappear, Flynn."

He hummed in response. "Still don't want you to go."

She couldn't help but giggle. "Then come with me to the shower." That sounded like a good idea.

The two of them got cleaned up, though the whole time, he still didn't let her leave his touch for more than a few seconds at a time. Somehow, Tara didn't mind. If anything, she also seemed to not want to leave his touch for any longer than she had to.

Flynn didn't ask her to stay, but she didn't leave. They both seemed to agree it was too hard to separate for the night. Well, at least to sleep, since it was always night in space. Regardless of the hour, it was the easiest Flynn had gotten to sleep in years.

-Tara-

She was the first to wake up, though he had wrapped an arm around her waist, and rested his head on her chest. He was heavy, so Tara definitely wasn't going anywhere any time soon, but she also didn't really want to. Honestly, his weight was more comforting than awkward.

Flynn stirred slightly as she absentmindedly guided gentle fingers through short hair. Somehow it wasn't strange to see him like this. Like he wasn't worried about anything. His forehead where his brows were always scrunched together was softened and his breath was steady and slow.

Tara had certainly never seen him like this before, yet didn't feel new at all. Like he'd always meant to be this soft, but just couldn't while he was burdened with consciousness. While there was always something to be worried or angry about.

Ever so slowly, he became more aware of the waking world. Not that he seemed all that happy about it, but the way he stiffened, and tightened his hold on her waist told Tara that he was definitely awake. "Good morning, love. You look like you slept well."

"Why'd I have t' fuckin wake up then?" His groggy morning voice, paired with how low his voice already was, made it sound like a lion was arguing instead of Flynn. He was many things, but a morning person was not one of them.

"Because as fun as last night was, we still have shit to do."

"Why do I even wanna get shit done?"

Sure, she'd pull the card. "Because if you wanna repeat last night, then we gotta do shit."

Flynn rolled over and sat up as quickly as he could given that he had less than enough brain function to do so. "Fine, I'll get shit done."

"That's what I thought." Tara chuckled, placing a brief kiss on his cheek. She got up and stretched, earning a few satisfactory pops from her back and shoulders. "Did you find my twig yesterday?"

Flynn's expression changed from tired to slightly guilty. "Yeah, about that. Twig didn't make it back from Lima in one piece."

That sucked. "How bad is it?"

"Completely snapped in two. That baron probably stepped on it." He said, "But I did bring it back. Even as busted as it is."

That hurt a bit, but it was just a baseball bat with nails in it. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it was just unfortunate that it was now, when usable weapons were few and far between. "Thanks for bringing it back anyway. What am I supposed to use for a weapon now?"

"Vega and I are working on something." Flynn promised as he got up. "Along with trying to find something to get you a little more armored in the field."

"You know I need to be a little more mobile than you."

"We can handle it. Don't worry. We won't send you into a fight with something that'll get you killed." He offered. "In the meantime – you know how to use a sawed-off shotgun?"

Tara eyed him suspiciously. "If it weren't the end of the world, I'd call you a cop. But yeah, I have some experience."

Flynn nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. He turned his back to her as he lifted his sleep shirt off, revealing quite the array of red scratches that she had left The night before. "Then you'll do fine. See you in the shop?"

"Definitely." She chirped awkwardly, turning on her heel and moving on light feet from the door.

"Hey, I want that T-shirt back!" He yelled after her.

"No 'ya don't!" Tara head him laugh in the distance

-Flynn-

The workshop was exactly how he'd left it, which was always a good sign. Though, he had a feeling today would be long before Vega became a pain in the ass.

"Enjoy your night?" The AI asked.

"Yes I did, smartass, thanks for asking."

"I, for one, thought you would kill each other a week ago."

"Well, we didn't."

"Even still, it only took you three weeks, one day, fourteen hours, and sixteen minutes to decide to sleep with her instead."

"That long!?" Tara joined them. "Damn, I must be losing my touch."

"For Tara, it only took two weeks, three days, two hours, and eleven minutes to decide to sleep with you. Which happened only an hour after deciding she wouldn't have to kill you."

"Fuck yea, it did."

Flynn was struggling to keep up. "What the hell is happening?"

"Either being horny is a competition now, or we're getting slut-shamed by a robot."

"I mean no offense."

"Then we're competing, I guess." She deduced. "And I'm winning."

That was something he could understand. "Then you won't be for long."

Tara bounced her head from side to side in thought. "Nah, I don't think I'll fall behind."

"That sounds like a challenge." He teased.

A mischievous grin spread across her cheeks. "If you can surprise me by the next mission then…"

"I get to be on top." He supplied surprisingly quickly.

"Fine. I'm only agreeing because I don't think you will." She said, "And if you can't, then I get-" she looked around the workshop until her eyes landed on the weapon rack. "Then I get to shoot the Gauss Cannon at a Girl's Night."

"Deal."

"You gonna take a swing, or are you gonna wait until I least suspect it?" Tara laughed.

"I know exactly what will surprise the hell out of you, and I don't need to be subtle to do it." Flynn let himself drift closer to her.

"Oh? Care to enlighten me?" She took another step closer to him and gently pulled on his belt with a smirk.

He towered over her. He knew how big he was, and Tara seemed to be completely unfaltered by it. Hell, she was attracted to it. "No."

She laughed as he stepped back and began working at his station again, fixing his armor. Flynn tried to pay her no mind for now, but even with her simply sitting on the floor, going through holograms about demons, she somehow kept drawing his attention.

Eventually he turned on a playlist, hoping it would distract him more than she was. His plan backfired on him when Tara began humming along to songs she knew, and even when she didn't know one, she picked up on the melody enough to follow along. It made it far too easy for Flynn to realize that he loved her voice.

It had been hours, and Flynn had made some good progress on his suit repairs. A few more small fixes and it would be good as new. Tara for her part, didn't look any less burnt out. She laid flat on her back, scrolling through one of his old discoveries on Mars about Summoners.

One song ended and the next began. It was a slow, jazzy song, one he remembered his mom liking back in the day. Most of those memories felt so far away that it was like he was remembering a fact that he'd been told about someone else. Not like it was his own life.

But this was his own life, and if he had it, he was gonna use it. Flynn strolled up to Tara. She shot him a confused look when he offered a hand to help her up. It was break-time and goddammit, they both needed to stop using their brains for a little.

She skeptically took his hand and he helped her up. Flynn was met with very little resistance as he pulled her to him and started swaying her with the song.

Tara barked out a laugh, settling into the dance easily. "You're just a big doofus, aren't you?"

"At least when the armor is off." He chuckled back, swaying side to side with Tara to to slow swing of the song.

The two fell into comfortable silence. He'd be lying if he said this didn't have the same effect on him as he was trying to have on her.

In moments like these it felt far more intimate than having her in his bed. Simply having her close, enjoying the warmth of her waist in his hands and her head resting on his chest in quiet lull with the music. Like he was trying to tell her that the only thing that he could ever ask for was for her to stay.

Please, just stay.

Tara gasped slightly and lifted her head for a moment like some realization just hit her like a truck. Green eyes searched his face for some clue, and ultimately landed on the exact conclusion he was waiting for her to find.

"Shit." It was spoken like the word had surprised her.

There it is.

The way to surprise Tara wasn't to make a smooth move, or say something that made her face turn red and her knees weak. No, it was to show her that she was safe. Truly, unconditionally, safe.

The song ended just as slowly as it started. Her forehead dropped against his chest as she let out a defeated sigh. "You win."

"I'll stash that away for the future." He placed a kiss on the crown of her head as he held her there. Eventually he let her go sit down once again after their little break, and he got back to work on the suit.

Flynn could get used to this: having someone else in his workspace, just to enjoy having the company. Hours could go by and he would just be happy that she chose to stay. Every once in a while he'd see Tara shuffle or move around. Maybe he should get her a chair, or something softer than a scavenged rug to sit on.

A soft "Oh fuck." Came from where she was laying on the floor.

Tara had found a picture from the Lazarus project with a sleeping demon set into a wall somewhere in Hell, but she looked terrified.

"What is it?"

Standing up, she brought the hologram to him. "She look familiar?"

Oddly enough, she did. Really, the thing looked like a Summoner, but six times the size with more gold than he'd ever seen on a demon, running along spines and embedded in her head. It looked like the bony wall had swallowed most of her, and she lay sleeping there.

"That's the original Mania." Tara said, pulling up another report. "Dr. Hive on Lazarus was trying to wake and weaponize her. When that didn't work, they just harvested the energy from the prison."

"That's the energy they used on you?" He asked.

"Yeah… she was a titaness. Records at her prison say she was feared and respected across her realm, but she decided to conquer territory that didn't belong to her. Other titans didn't like it, all that much and they turned on her. But her energy stayed within the prison, even in her sleep. Every so often, her energy would build up enough and influence working minds to attempt freeing her."

"So Hive wasn't as smart as they thought."

Tara laughed. "Maybe not. I think they definitely weren't as objective as they thought. This report is nothing but hypocrisy from them about the nature of Mania. They just thought they were built different."

"What about the demons?" Flynn asked, idly fiddling with wiring while they spoke. "Why do they call you that?"

"I think some may actually have me confused with her." She guessed. "The more coherent demons can tell that I'm at least mostly human. But I don't know if they call me that because it's the only name they have for this energy, or because they believe I'm some kind of reincarnation or something. Honestly, I hope I never find out."

"That's a smart choice." He agreed. "I don't usually read the reports unless I have to figure out how to kill something I haven't met before. Everything else is just fucking aggravating."

"Fair enough, but unfortunately this means I have to find an answer to a question before it finds me and answers itself." Tara figured.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"If the Hell Priests conquering Earth give more than one sleeping titan energy, then what does that mean for Mania and me?"

[myassbrokethefall]

xf rewatch: squeeze and conduit

(As if this wasn't already apparent, I'll warn you that any off-the-cuff posts I manage to spew out as I rewatch are going to be rambly, unorganized and rudderless. I am tagging all of these "xf rewatch rambling." And I will be kind to us all and put in a cut.)

Eps 3 and 4, and we're still building some real foundational XF DNA here. Squeeze of course is our first MOTW and it's all nicely laid out for us: Colton and the jackass squad are all like, hurrrr it's ol spooky mulder he thinks a flying saucer did the murders, and even Scully is like, so whaddya think, these are the stretchy fingerprints of ALIENS? And it gives him a great opportunity to say, please Scully, I have range, we don't ONLY do UFO episodes cases on this show in this basement, sometimes we might have a "week" where we are investigating a "monster"! That will keep us busy!

It's also really interesting to see Mulder interact with the rest of the federal law enforcement universe for the first time, and how he plays into it in a smartass way, but how it really is relentless (with Colton in particular like physically blocking him from the crime scene even before he calls off the stakeout). Mulder doesn't get really mad about it until it gets to the point where he knows they've let a killer go and no one will listen to him about that. He's just such a fundamentally Good man, and it's a lovely thing to once again see through Scully's eyes how he is not the unreasonable one here, that despite his willingness to connect the dots to make a picture that is Beyond the Realm of Science, he IS, in fact, connecting dots, he's not just making shit up, and none of these dudes making fun of him are actually listening to him. I am loving watching how they draw his character in these early days.

Then with Conduit we're back into UFO stuff and it's our first Gordon/Gansa ep. This is the first episode I don't know like the back of my hand, although I remember it pretty well (and I don't know Squeeze AS well as Pilot and DT). It is quite solid, and MUCH more based on Carl Sagan's Contact than I remembered. As I rambled to a friend earlier today and will now do here again probably even less coherently, this whole thing was great for me until it falls apart at the end with the pieces of paper forming the portrait of Ruby. Despite this being a nifty reveal, the portrait is just SO GOOFY!!, and it is just a step too far for me. The aliens are sending numbers through the TV to Ruby's little brother — sure. And he's compelled to write them down and they turn out to be, in binary, the aliens repeating back to the humans what they've heard in transmissions from Earth, in what is assumed to be a way of reaching out or saying hello (this is what happens in Contact). I love all that, it's very spooky, it's a fun side-swerve when M&S get interrogated by the NSA because Kevin was accidentally transcribing top-secret military info, and it is undeniably a great moment when Scully goes upstairs and looks down and has the realization that it's a picture of Ruby. But... how can the 1s and 0s be BOTH encrypted satellite transmissions AND the precise sequence that makes a physical picture of Ruby's face? Also, is it like, a school portrait? Why is she smiling so hard? Did the aliens tell her to smile and snap a photo of her on the spaceship? Are they reading Kevin's mind and that's how he pictures her, with a giant cheeseball grin? It just kind of falls apart for me and it is silly enough that it breaks the momentum of the episode. 

On the other hand, I get that they wanted to make it unequivocal that the aliens were communicating to Kevin about Ruby specifically — and to make that explicit tie between this situation and Mulder's memories, as expressed in the hypnosis in the (very emotional) last scene, about Samantha's abduction: the voice saying that she's ok and she'll be returned to him. This is a touching consistency that I never really picked up on before, that it is the aliens' MO when abducting a kid to make an effort to let a nearby loved one know that they don't have to worry. So working instructions for how to arrange the papers on the living room floor into their tv transmissions in order to make a giant Sears portrait of Ruby is another way of delivering this ultimately benevolent, hopeful message, I guess. 

You couldn't keep it this way indefinitely, but I really do feel wistful about these early days when there was such a sense of wonder with the possibility of aliens, and so much unknown, before it all got bogged down in super soldiers and magnetite and consortiums and viruses and black oil and impregnating people with science against their will. You can FEEL Mulder's agitation and urgency in wanting to get Ruby's story and his agony at being blocked from it, and yet also understand Darlene's refusal to let this crazy-sounding stuff that has branded her a kook her whole life define her daughter's life as well. Just good stuff.

I will note though that there have been 4 episodes here so far, 3 of them dealing with UFOs, and in all 3 of those they have done the thing where you think you're seeing UFO lights and then it turns out to be a vehicle Very Much Of This Earth. I think you could give that one a rest for a little while, show. 

Let's get real, this is all prelude to Jersey Devil, up next. Yeah baby. 

[camaro-and-smokes]

Little Bird Starts Nesting

Chapter 2: Do I have to tell dad?

3rd and final work in The Way It Should've Been -series (AO3).

Rating: Mature (for now) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove & Original Character(s), Steve Harrington & Original Character(s) Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Original Character(s) Additional Tags: Harringrove, Alternate Universe - No Supernatural, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Family Issues, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Unplanned Pregnancy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Emma and Billy tell Steve about Emma's pregnancy. Steve doesn't take it well.

Read the whole series on AO3 >>

::::::::::

“Please don’t tell dad,” Emma whispered through her tears “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Billy said. “He’s your dad, and he loves you.” Emma was silent for a while. “And you can’t keep secrets from him. I know.” Billy sighed and admitted: “And I can’t keep secrets from him. But it’s a good thing. Trust me. He understands.” “But what am I supposed to do, dada?” “Birdie,” Billy started and hugged Emma sideways, “You don’t have to know it right now.” “But I still have high school left and I’m supposed to go into college and...” Emma rambled. Billy stroke her arm. “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself. We can figure it out together. Let’s book you an appointment tomorrow...” “Dada, please no, not yet...” Emma wailed. “Hey, I meant just to find out where you’re at. We need to know at least that for sure before anything else. Okay?” After a while, she nodded. “Will you come with me?” she whispered. Billy hugged her tighter. “Of course I will. I’m gonna be there for you all the way.”

Emma was quiet for a while. “But dada...” “Yes?” “Please don’t kill Ryan,” Emma whispered.

Billy looked ahead of him, stunned. “Uh...” She glanced up at him. “Because you totally thought of it.” Billy snorted. “Sure, it crossed my mind.” “Do you have any idea how hard it was to find someone who was brave enough to date me?” Billy raised his eyebrows. “It was hard? With your personality and looks? You had boys swarming around.” “Yeah, it was hard, actually,” Emma nodded with a small smile. “You have any idea how intimidating you are? You’ve scared all the boys away from me just by glaring at them as long as I can remember.” Billy shrugged and smiled a lopsided grin. “Well, I’m your dad. I should be intimidating. I know how boys are.” “Well, if one dad is scary, just imagine having two. And then the other one being you,” she smiled. “Ryan was scared shitless when I finally got him to agree to meet with you and dad for the first time. He wasn’t scared of dad at all. He just kept saying, ‘I hope your dada doesn’t kill me on the spot’ the entire drive here,” Emma laughed. But her smile vanished as soon as it had appeared. Billy smiled, took a deep breath, and pulled Emma into a tight hug. “Everyone makes mistakes, birdie.” They sat on Emma’s bed, hugging each other tight for a while, both sniffling. “Is it okay if I go get dad and you tell him?” Billy finally asked. Emma grimaced, but nodded.

Soon Steve stood in the doorway to Emma’s room. He glanced at Billy, who sat down in Emma’s chair and gave her a tissue to wipe her tears. “Close the door and sit, babe,” Billy said to Steve. Steve closed the door behind him and sat down on next to Emma on her bed and looked at her, concerned. “Okay, I’m listening.” “I’m pregnant, dad,” Emma whispered. Steve’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung slowly open. “How?” When Emma just played with the wet tissue in her hands, Billy took over. “Steve, you know how babies are made,” he said dryly. Steve looked at Billy. He was stunned and apparently equally horrified and confused about the concept of their daughter being pregnant. “Is it Ryan’s?” he asked after a while. Emma said nothing, but nodded. Steve leaned back and let out a deep breath. “How—how far is it?” Billy just shook his head. “Didn’t yet get that far. We’ll book a check-up tomorrow.” Steve stood up and paced around, running his hands through his hair. “Emma, we told you to take care of that stuff...” he snapped, spreading his hands and shaking his other one in the air, frustrated.

Emma started to cry again. “Steve, cut it out,” Billy growled. “She’s already terrified. You don’t have to add to that!” Anger flashed on Steve’s face when he glanced at Billy, but finally he stopped pacing and stood by the door, his hands on his hips, clenching his teeth. After a while, his expression turned desperate when he looked at Billy and then at Emma. “Emma, why?” “‘m sorry, dad,” she whispered. “Does it really matter why?” Billy asked Steve. Steve just shook his head and walked out of the room without another word. Billy looked after him and sighed. Then he looked back at Emma. “He’ll come around. He just needs to adjust.” He leaned forward to reach Emma’s arm and gently squeezed it. “This is not the end of the world.” Emma nodded and blew her nose. “Try to get some sleep. If you don’t want to go to school tomorrow, you don’t have to.” Emma looked at him, miserable. “Thanks, dada.” “Yeah. I’ll call the school in the morning and let them know you’re sick.”

When Billy left the room and closed the door behind him, looking at the corridor, he saw Annie and Jr. both peeking from the doorway of Annie’s room.

Billy walked to them, sighing. “Okay, you two. You heard it, right?” “Dad shouted at Emma,” Jr. said wide-eyed. Billy nodded and crossed his arms. “Yeah, he did. I’m sure he’s sorry about it.” “You shouted at her too, earlier. Is she in trouble?” Annie asked. Billy glanced at her. “No. It’s nothing like that.” Billy couldn’t look her in the eyes. He could see it in her, she knew it was serious. She was already thirteen, and she was getting older. Right now he couldn’t handle the idea of her growing and soon being the same age her sister was now, capable of being in that same situation... He felt the tears prickling under his skin.

Annie leaped to Billy and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “Dada, it’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “Oh, bee,” he sniffled and hugged her back, his inner dam breaking. “That’s supposed to be my line, not yours.” They two were so alike, truly like father, like daughter and not only sharing the looks. Annie was a spitting image of Billy with the same blonde curls, blue eyes, thick lashes and cute nose. But both of them had emotions right under the surface—and the skill of reading each other with eerie accuracy. Jr. joined the hug, and Billy wrapped his other arm around the boy, pressing kisses on both of their heads. “I love you, my babies,” he whispered. “I’m not a baby anymore,” Jr. protested, mumbling from under Billy’s arm. Billy smiled. “You’re forever going to be my baby, even when you’re fifty,” he whispered into his hair, and let go. “You got no say in that, bugster.”

After ensuring both had done their homework and were ready for bed, Billy went downstairs to look for Steve. He finally found him sitting on the stairs of the back porch, looking out at the sea. Billy took the blankets from the living room couch with him and walked out to the porch into the cool night air. “Hey,” he said, more to announce himself rather than greet Steve, and touched gently Steve’s shoulder with the back of his fingers. When Steve didn’t protest, he took the other blanket and wrapped it around Steve’s shoulders. He sat next to him and wrapped himself in the other blanket. They sat there in silence for a long while, just listening to the roar of the ocean. “How long have you known?” Steve asked quietly. “She told me earlier today.” “Not exactly what I hoped for her...” “Oh, come on, we are the last people who should take this as if it destroys her life.” Billy wanted to scold Steve, but the words lacked the gravitas. He felt tears pooling in his eyes again. “Do you remember how much I wanted a baby back then?” Steve closed his eyes and swallowed. “I do.” He looked at Billy and smiled a little. “I’d never seen you so happy as you were when we found out about her.” Billy wiped his eyes on the blanket. “I had never been so happy before.” “Isn’t it kind of ironic that we’re on this side of the equation now?” “Yeah.” Billy sneaked his hand under Steve’s blanket to find his hand and laced their fingers. “Bittersweet, actually.” Steve shook his head. “It only now hit me how hard it must’ve been for Margaret and her husband. Their little girl, pregnant at seventeen.” Billy squeezed Steve’s hand. “I need you on Emma’s team with me, babe.” Steve returned the gesture. “I’m there. All the way. I was just surprised. It’s not exactly something you expect to happen at her age.” Billy leaned on Steve’s shoulder and sighed. “No, it’s not.”

[reblogging4thewin]

KP's 2022 SPN Year in Review

Soooo much happened in my life in 2022 (well from end 2021 though 2022 really). I am so grateful for the friends both online and off who helped me get through it all 💜. I found myself focusing more on art and editing than writing - but I am really excited to share my Pinefest fic with you all in February!

The #1 creation I'm most proud of this year was my Haze Amv, but I am also blown away by how much my Me and My Broken Heart Amv took off - ending the year with almost 20k views - which is in-sane. Setting and sticking to a regular upload schedule has been motivating and rewarding - I'm excited to post January's video on Thursday too :).

Participating as an artist in a couple of bangs for the first time had me stepping out of my comfort zone and drawing the best human being I've ever drawn to-date.

Aside from making things, I also co-modded the new SPN Bang Bang with my friends @doctorprofessorsong and @you-cant-spell-subtext-without, which went wonderfully well; I"m excited for this year's round!

Last but not least, being an editor and guest for @endofthebookpod has been amazing so far, and I'm excited for the rest of The Winchesters season!

Without further ado, here's a recap of all of the SPN fanworks I made in 2022 (I'll also get my masterlist pages updated to include these):

---

Fic (all G or T rated):

Did You Mean It? - PB Exchange - Cas realizes Dean's been flirting with him, so he confronts him - with some satisfying results. (reblog link)

The Theme is Dean - Dean birthday - Dean gets the themed party he's always wanted. (reblog link)

I'm the One He's Walking to - Valentine's Exchange - Is this a date? (reblog link)

Sleepy Stares - they are just so soft (reblog link)

You Never Let Me Say It Back - a poem by Dean (I am particularly proud of the wordplay in this one) (reblog link)

Regarding Bunnies - Easter; goofy Dean - Cas gets Dean a fluffy surprise, that yes they've discussed before. (reblog link)

Mon Pays Sera Toi - Dean really likes how protective Cas can be - it makes him feel safe, among other things. (reblog link)

Magic - Samwena drabble (tumblr only)

Rendevous - Drowley drabble (tumblr only)

What if Dean kissed Cas in The Trap? (tumblr only; in the tags)

---

Amvs (I'm posting a new one every 5th now - YT channel):

Words Words Words - Dean Winchester - Comedy (YT link)

Squirrel all the Bad Guys Want - Dean Winchester, Drowley - Comedy (YT link)

When You Were Young - Dean Winchester, Destiel - Drama (YT link)

Haze - BAMF Cas, Destiel - Drama (YT link)

Dream Boy - Destiel - fun (YT link)

Me and My Broken Heart - Destiel - Drama (YT link)

The Shipped Gold Standard - Destiel - Drama (YT link)

Don't Let the Light go Out - Destiel - Drama - got (c) blocked on YT, so the Tumblr post has the original audio and the YT version has pitched concert audio that you can kind of hear me in 😳 (YT link)

---

Gifs:

LGBTQIA+ SPN Characters

Aang and Cas entrance parallels

That pose from OTHOAP (which I like to think of as honk.jpg)

The totally-not-suggestive way that Cas eyes Dean in 5*02

500 Days of Winchesters - Spn Win / 500 Days of Summer Crossover - Suptober

---

Art:

Dean/Cas/Benny drawing for Spn Bang Bang (Benny here is the best human being I've drawn to-date, and the reason I can no longer say that I can't draw people.)

Juliet the Hellhound drawings for Crowley Big Bang

Smoke - Drowley digital drawing - Suptober

---

Meta and meta additions:

The Winchesters initial thoughts

The Winchesters John meta (with gifs)

Rowena is Sam's Benny

SPN Witches' immortality and humanity

See #spn meta in the tags for more thoughts too

---

Misc nonsense (non-serious ramblings, sketches, ideas):

Do you wanna go/ do you wanna get out of here

Putting on a tie is such a turn-on apparently

I'll just wait here then Destiel and Merthur parallel (I could go with you is also one but yeah)

A silly little amongus/SPN crossover sketch I might come back to and draw for real.

Sarah Blake references from 8*22 Clip Show

Unusual reactions to 'I love you'

---

Non-spn stuff:

Sure this is an SPN year in review, but I did make a handful of other things that I thought it'd be weird to leave out.

Soldier Boy Soulja Boy Amv - (YT link)

Dreamling Dream Amv - (YT link)

Merthur She's got Sorcery Amv - (YT link)

Puppet History Can't Touch This Amv - (YT link)

A Solid Foundation - original sapphic horror story (Reddit link)

---

Last year's year in review post was more of a 'here's one fave; check out the pages I made that are a complete list.' But since blog subpages are hidden in the app, I figured I'd do a complete list in the post this year instead.

I plan on doing more writing in 2023 - Pinefest is only the beginning.

Happy new year everyone!

Since tumblr tags suck, I used this Tumblr OP finder to help me put this together.

[maskless-oblivion]

Hi, everyone. Brn told me a while back that I should give this a try, might be good for “networking,” as Nema called it.

I go by Pompon. You might have heard of the Ogre of Kitakami. Well, um, I’m not her, but we Ogerpon are all kind of like sisters, in a sense. Um, except me. I’m a boy. A Brogerpon, if you will.

Anyway, about me. I live in the Oblivia region. It’s not on any maps… I think, but it’s homey. Quaint. Not a place for glory, but apparently they had to deal with some group called “the Pokémon Pinchers” a good while ago. That sounds like a band, but they’re not. Trust me.

A-anyway, I know you probably all have heard of my cool sister and want to know if I have any nifty masks, but sadly, I don’t. I’m working on building one, though! I’m something of a carpenter, but I don’t think I’d be able to Terastalize with my mask. It’s a shame, Dark types are really cool.

When I’m not crafting, I like to find shaded, woody places and feel the sun filter through the trees onto my skin. It’s so warm. ☺️

A-anyways, that’s all for now! I hope I made a good first impression…

OOC

“S/dl” and “M/dl” are filter tags for my friends, please don’t ask about them.

Facts about Pompon (so I don’t forget how to write him)

He’s picked up on some streamer logo from watching videos with Nema, but he only has a loose idea of what they mean and when it’s appropriate to say them. He says stuff like “based” and “sadge” a lot, even when it doesn’t fit the tone of the conversation.

He was originally based on me, so when in doubt, I like to ask “what would I say if I was more naïve?”

He only has a filter on his words in hindsight.

He has low self-esteem, so he tends to apologize for even small mistakes. He’s trying to talk himself up more, though!

He’s basically coded as a young kid, although I originally intended for him to be a young adult. Because of this drift in characterization, he doesn’t know what level he’s at (it’s 32)

His nature is Docile.

He knows Leech Seed, Ivy Cudgel, Lash Out, and Low Sweep.

IV-based characteristics: takes plenty of siestas, often lost in thought, hates to lose, somewhat stubborn, alert to sounds, impetuous and silly, somewhat of a clown, and quick to flee

He tends to either ramble on and on or clam up with no in-between.

Quirks I picked from the list of all possible Ribbon/Marking titles: dozy, spacey, anxious, kindhearted, humble, worn-out, daydreamer

He’s typing with vibes, so as a self-imposed rule to give his blog some more flair, I don’t fix many of the typos I make while writing his dialogue/posts.

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

2022 Art and Fic Round-up

Oh! Belated but this a good time to reflect on 2022, now that most end-of-the-year stuff is mostly wrapped up. Thanks for the tag, @danpuff-ao3! Rules:

Post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

Your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year

Your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year

Your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

And your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

Tagging: If you’re reading this, haven’t done this yet but want to, considered yourself tagged! Since I'm an illustrator AND a writer, I’ll be covering both art and fic, because apparently, that’s what my life is these days (and I’m okay with that!). In 2022, I created just shy of 47 works (a few that have yet to be revealed rn!).

24 of those were art only

18 of those were either microfics, drabbles and/or fics

5 of those were drabbles/fic AND art combined

3 of those were collaborations

I also dived into the Teen Wolf fandom in the autumn, which had me contributing 6 Sterek pieces. The amount of WIPs I have rn...is kind of ridiculous, but since they spread across HP, TW as well as Merlin and Good Omens, we’ll see if any of those get finished for 2023. For now, let’s dive into 2022 details and rambling, shall we?

5 Works I’m Most Proud Of:

1. There’s a guiding light (HP- Perciver, T, 2.5k)

This was the story that started the Where do we from here? series. I wrote this back in 2020 just before lock-down, and kind of put it on the back-burner for a bit because I wanted to do justice when it came to describing and showing Patronus magic. When I picked it up again, I chipped away at what I had to make this story as genuine as possible when it came to growing up, feeling insecure, and of course, romantic friendship. It’s totally possibly to have the latter, and I’m glad I was able touch on that topic for these boys.

2. Things I Never Knew (HP- Flintwood, M, 1.5k)

First time writing Flintwood! Trying to write something mature with a set word count was really hard, but I’m glad I accepted that challenge! I had a lot of fun exploring the dynamic between Oliver and Marcus after they’re a little more grown up, still trying to figure out what they want, and then somehow finding that from each other. Also, mixing in hooking up, lingerie, feelings gave me a lot to play with.

3. It’s Enough for Now (TW- Sterek, G, 300 with art)

This was my very first Sterek piece I made for an official fest/event. How could I not be proud of this one? I’ll admit, I was kind of intimidated making art for a new-to-me fandom and a ship, but I’m glad I took that chance. The overall support and reception from folks...OMG. I’m still blown away by all the love this has gotten and how welcoming people have been (thank you so much <3)! When I think of Sterek, my mind always wanders back on this piece, which carries that hurt/comfort I associate with them. They’re two people who have been through a lot of crap, feelings are difficult, and the future always seems a bit grey and bittersweet. Also, being able to add some mixed media flair and playing with patterns was definitely my favorite thing about making this piece. And writing Derek and Stiles?! Super fun. Am I planning to write more of them in the future? Yes! See more below when it comes to my current WIPs. :D

4. A Sudden Change (HP- Cho/Ginny, T, 200) and So Little Time (HP- Pansy/Hermione, E, 200)

Okay, so I know I chose 2 drabbles here, but overall, writing for the HP Saffics Summer Exchange, was really fun! I ended up pinch hitting and also writing a treat, and if you know how I am with word counts, I wanted to see how much I could squeeze in 200 words or less. I love both of these ships, so writing two completely different things from my norm was a breath of fresh air. I would definitely be up to write more in the future!

5. Put My Mind at Ease (TW- Sterek, T, art)

I absolutely loved drawing this one for Sterek Secret Santa. Honestly, this whole thing came together so beautifully, and during the time I was making this, I was reminded of why I draw and why I like making art. All I have to say is the more I draw Sterek, the more I love the process and ideas that come along with each piece. And well, it’s a 1000% given it makes me love these two even more. I have no idea what it is, but Derek and Stiles are really awesome to draw. Once I nail down an idea, drawing them seems to flow naturally (that’s probably my sign to keep going!). You’re probs going to hear me keep saying this over and over, but it’s true!

4 Current WIPs for 2023

1. Snapshots in Time (TW- Portraits for the McCall and Hale packs, G, WIP 2/? posted)

My first go at drawing Teen Wolf characters was when I started this series. I wanted to see what I could do with portraits, and I started with Stiles and Derek (because duh, reasons). Turns out mixing in random colour palettes was a great way to get the creative juices flowing, and each one only took a few hours (that’s actually pretty quick for me). I’ve got a queue of other characters I’d love to add to this series, so I’ll just need to find the right palettes and the right time to continue these as I go. Hoping to see if I can get either Scott, Lydia and/or Kira drawn up this year!

2. Thoughts That Count (HP- Perciver, T, WIP 5/6 posted, 2.8k so far)

Okay, so technically I was this is soclose to being done since I have one more letter I need to illustrate and write. I wanted to finish this up for 2022, but RL didn’t let that happen so I am going to aim to finish this up between now through March. I just need the muse and time to coordinate so I make it work! P.S. Writing letters that depend on art being made definitely shakes things up! I’m pretty sure the letters were actually easier to write vs. making the art (bc drawing and painting flowers...yeah, that was new for me).

3. Bringing Out A Different Kind of Me (TW- Sterek, M or E, WIP multi- chaptered- this should start posting up in mid-Feb, hopefully)

Okie dokie...title revealed! I actually just came up with that today (and I’m using the old title for one of the chapters). I posted a little excerpt from this fic not too long ago, and it feels real now? This was supposed to be light, cracky and fun when I came up with this idea back in October, but it transformed into this gigantic beast with crack taken seriously, angst, plot, and lots of music thrown in one. I even have a playlist all ready to go (hint: the purpose of a playlist will become important later on in this fic).

I’m currently writing this as fast as I can and whenever I have time, since this fic is going to be the longest thing I’ve written in a while (my estimate is 20-25k rn, but that could change). It’s a multi-media fic where texts and Instagram messages drive the story, but there will be narratives in between that tie everything together. Trying something new and different can be super scary, but also pretty exciting! I’m also taking things up a notch by using multiple AO3 skins. So far, I’m really surprised how much coding has helped me with writing this (I guess I’m glad I code for fun/partially for my RL job). If this fic actually gets done on time, I will be super amazed. And if not, be on the look out for new updates if you’d like to join my crazy journey! P.S. I also have a sequel in the works that follows up. ;D

4. Where do we go from here? (HP- Perciver, WIP 3/13 posted + 1 bonus fic, 9k so far)

This series is always going to be my passion project and baby. It’s the reason why I started writing again, and the number of ideas I’ve come up for this universe is insane! But I love the idea of trying to fill in these missing moments and scenes we haven’t seen yet between Percy and Oliver, trying to figure out the what-could-have-happens and how things might have progressed between them from Hogwarts all the way to adulthood and after the war. I know the writing is slow-going (and yeahhh, each one shot has a word count limit, since this is part of a rare pairs challenge prompt table), but I’ve found having this kind of structure has helped me figure out how to show and tell better, and how to be clear and concise. I’ve got at least two parts I’d like to write up and post, so we’ll see what traction I make there.

3 Biggest Improvements (for writing and art)

1. Writing more in general

2021 was when I first started writing and publishing fic again after taking a damn long hiatus. 2022 actually had me writing so much more! So, I’m hoping 2023 will let me get back into the flow of making stories in general, no matter how big or small they are.  Scrivener was such a blessing to my writing game in 2022 since it helped me keep my thoughts organized, and my gods, did that help with writing microfics and drabbles! I’d love to see what I can come up with a writer to not only improve this craft, but also to just explore different character journeys and ways of writing. And if I can come up with more microfics or drabbles, maybe that will help me explore some different ships!

2. Making things for multiple fandoms

So, I’m a multi-shipper and I love soooo many fandoms. HP has been with me the longest and I will happily still create for the many ships I love. In 2022, I’ve found I was in a headspace where I wanted to play in other sandboxes again. I’ve already started doing that (hello, Teen Wolf!), and that got the gears turning for creativity when I felt like that spark was drying up. Also, poking new characters and a new universe let me explore so much! I got in touch with spooky lore, mythology and supernatural geekiness I find fascinating and that ignited a lot of inspiration. I’m hoping to make a dent in making things for Merlin (which I once did a decade ago) and Good Omens (I'm working on a WIP art piece rn). The more I’ve broaden my horizons, the more I can see how my skills have improved over the years, no matter what I’m drawing or what I’m writing. I suppose that’s what creating is all about, right?

3. Using generated colour palettes in art

Okay, so this is not going to be obvious in my art, but when I first started using colour for my lineart instead of good ole black, I would pick my colours with the eye dropper in Photoshop and run with it. I’m finding that I’m using more colors not just in my lineart and shading, but also for highlights, filters, flats, backgrounds and a bunch of other things. And that also means me adding more layers to my work. Being able to use a generated palette either pulled from stock photos or a generator has helped me work with colours I usually wouldn’t choose on my own, so pieces can be either really bold or cohesively muted. I’ve really liked working with set palettes now, and having the chosen in advance gives me once less thing to worry about when I do draw a thing.

2 Resolutions

1. Writing fics and making art more for myself instead of fests/events

I know many of us always say we’ll cut back in signing up for all the fests and such (because no one wants the FOMO), but I actually want to stick with this resolution. I’m anticipating a lot of change is going to happen in 2023 for fandom and RL, so I really don’t want to feel forced in making something that I’m not 100% enthusiatic about, and I don’t want fests to feel like a burden. Also, it’s more important that I write what I want to write or draw what I want to draw instead of trying to check some boxes. I want fandom to still be a creative outlet for me that I can enjoy. Which means it’s super crucial that I can enjoy the process of writing or drawing AND also the result of each thing I finish. I’m super proud of how much I created in 2022, but damn, it was a lot! I just need to remind myself that quality always tops quantity, and that what I make should make me happy.

2. Quality, not quantity

Given what I mentioned above, I really don’t want to burn out (again). At the end of the day, there isn’t enough time to do that. And I’m going to have to prioritise what I do for fandom since there are also a bunch of non-fandom things I want to delve into (ie. learning how to crochet, get my art shop up and running again, watch more TV shows, etc.). Life is short, and I also want to make things I’m proud of and love. But most importantly, I’d love to have more time to see what others or making/working on and have a chance to squee! Sometimes, it’s nice to take that break to be comment on a fic or piece of art and just appreciate something nice.

1 Favourite line I’ll go with this Percy one from There’s a guiding light: But when he saw Oliver’s face light up brighter than a thousand suns, he felt a faint smile tug at his lips.   

[kitwilsonsass]

plz ignore me this is holiday bravier rambling

it’s not written out well or formatted properly it started as like TWO PARAGRAPHS AND JUST ENDED UP A WHOLE THING AND I’M NOT CLEANING IT UP.

*flips a table*

-

they do their yearly gift exchange. but it’s more stilted than ever before. real, real awkward in fact. in a ‘they just sort of meet half way in the living room, standing there, face to face, holding boxes and shoving them forward’ kind of way. with a buzz in the air that screamed big ‘neither of us know what the hell this is right now, but we’re supposed to be doing this, maybe’ vibes.

x gives b a decent sized box. it’s wrapped in obnoxious gold paper with multicolored poinsettias and a mish mash of three bows. a gift card holder was taped almost hidden beneath them.

the card itself is to some online body jewelry shop he’d found. he was just gonna get him a septum ring, but he had a couple already, and he wasn’t sure what else he was in the market for. shoved in behind it was a folded coupon for buy-one-get-one half gallons of ice cream. so he could, again, just... pick out whatever he wanted. (it was going to be salted caramel fudge bourbon and vanilla cookie dough/m&m non copyright mcflurry whatever they called it... or just two of the latter. b was predictable, in some ways.) not exactly exciting stuff, but it was the thought that counted... right?

in the box itself, under the mountain of crinkled black tissue paper, there’s a pile of laminated comics and a beat up graphic novel. all stuff he explains, sure, might not really be his thing, but apparently they’re all random one shots that revolve around either obscure religious plots. or, just REALLY REALLY brutally offensive takes on christianity. the most poorly written edgelordery of crusades. stuff that’s probably been banned from half the shops in a half dozen countries. because he needs a laugh, or twelve.

he used to get him old bibles, but couldn’t find one this year. it felt grossly symbolic in ways he didn’t want to think about.

b gives x two small boxes stacked together. the top is no bigger than his palm. the paper looks hand pressed and old, and stained faintly with tea, with a ribbon made of stems. the bottom is a little bigger, and just a cheap white box without even a piece of tape.

he opens the top, and he’s not sure what hits him first. it smells, very distinctly, like him. but him at the compound. when it was sundown and sweaty and the flowers were sweet and blooming and they maybe got a little too frisky by the river. and then there was the.... the uh.... well. it was his hair. it was undoubtedly a chopped off piece of white dread. half bleached. spiraled up. he almost gags.

“is this.... erm. is this your hair?”

“yeah! yeah... yeah. no, sorry, that was a weird gift. i’m sorry. i can get you something, like an actual...”

“no. no. it’s cool. it’s.............. why?”

“well... you know, sometimes.... i’m not always here, and sometimes you might want me... here. for some reason. and i don’t always pick up on stuff like i used to these days so i just thought you know, maybe, like, to channel... or somethin’...................... i got no idea. i’m sorry.”

he’s sure there’s probably something actually to that, and that makes it weirdly thoughtful, in a what the fuck kind of way. so he smiles and reaches for the second one. b is already gesturing and trying to form an excuse that’s not quite making it out of mouth.

it’s a cat collar tag. a little silver heart with a rhinestone in it that says “Bonks.”

the world must be ending if the “beast” got a nicer gift than him. well. sorta.

“i was gonna wrap it but then i just.... decided i didn’t want to anymore.”

x laughs, because it’s funny how that works.

he tells him he should’ve given it to her himself, but he says he didn’t want to get frustrated trying to put it on and end up throwing her out a window or kicking her across the room. so x says he’ll help, just in case.

he keeps not so subtly peeking to see which dread got chopped short while they wrangle her, and b mumbles he did it awhile ago, when he wasn’t sure if he was staying. or if x would want him to stay. just never had the balls to go through with it.

x isn’t entirely sure if he should have. stayed, that is. for his own sake.

but he’s glad he didn’t leave, he tells him. even if it wasn’t the same. 

for whatever that was worth.

[cubedmango]

once again thanks so much for putting up with my long ass ramblings, and you're welcome too :-) it actually took me a few hours to finish typing out all of it, plus that sort of post-script message afterwards, but it's not like i did it all in one go and there were breaks in between, so it's fine haha. i genuinely appreciate your concern though :') and that's the power of a relatively new fixation i'm really excited about i guess? wjdfjkcnvzs though i did cobble some parts of it from tentative posts and meta i've had in my drafts for a while now, so they're not totally things i had to come up with on the spot the other day at least. and that's okay (i do like what i've seen of your writing though), like obviously no pressure to feel as dedicated as i am when it comes to talking about my blorbos and glup shittos and whatnot - your actual passion for the media is what matters and that ofc manifests in cool different ways for each of us 🫡 [1/?]

(rest below)

ah i'm glad my description of build was intriguing enough for you! i hope i didn't seem like i was laying it on too thick with my constantly paralleling and comparing it to aa though - i mean at first glance, the narratives of aa and build could not seem more different, but in hindsight they both prominently deal with the concepts of truth, justice, corruption, redemption/atonement, identity, and family and friendship in their own ways (though ig that's probably true of kr in general, which then makes sense as for how toku would feature as a major element in many aa cases), even if not always perfectly in either series, but the effort is generally appreciated and still pretty compelling imo. and i really love aa too (i actually discovered your blog and your twitter through your very cool and beautiful aa fanart a while back, and then when i started watching cm, i was pleasantly surprised to also see your fanart in the tumblr tags, so it was nice to see some of my interests align with that of an artist i liked and followed <3) so finding ways to make analogies between whatever i'm currently into with one of my favorite franchises ever seemed like the natural next step haha [2/?]

also let me just say that ryusen is one of the few m/m couples to get me this obsessed apart from narumitsu and the like over the past several years, so that's really my best way of recommending them. again, idk if that will truly be your experience too by the end, but hopefully you'll still find something to like about their dynamic so my being this much of a shill for them won't feel embarrassing later on kjvbrhsfjs [3/?]

and yeah the rings!! they're far from the only gay-coded kr duo to get that kind of official romantic jewelry ofc, but they were apparently one of the first to really make it popular, so yeah their overall cultural impact sure is something to not be underestimated lol. and yup i've found that it's actually fairly common for many companies behind popular japanese media to go for selling that kind of merch, regardless of the actual canonicity of the pairing in question - like capcom, toei/p-bandai, etc. are aware that there's sizeable enough shipping fanbases for said media, and yeah ig selling that stuff while not having the guts to actually canonize said pairings can come off as pretty baity which is not really Great but well that's capitalism and queer/fujobaiting for you ig 😔 and here's what the sento/banjou rings look like btw: www . tumblr . com/kabutoraiger/190132806767/a-new-entry-into-the-growing-selection-of though i can't share a picture of it rn, their names (spelled as sento kiryu and ryuga banjo) are also inscribed on the insides of their respective individual rings :-) [4/?]

as for the 'silly little rabbit with a death wish' part of that post... hehe. you'll Get it if/when you get there >:) btw sento's given name literally means 'rabbit tank' and banjou's given name ryuuga means 'i'm a dragon' iirc (although the former having that name actually has a good in-universe explanation for once, but the latter definitely has no such excuse 😭) - tbh kr (+ other toku franchises i'm sure) is right up there with aa in terms of often corny yet still charming pun names, but because they're mostly in japanese and don't have localized english equivalents, one doesn't always get it right away but i suppose that's what google and wiki are for lol and actually one other particular example that's stood out to me so far is the name of the protagonist from ex-aid (the one played by iijima from odt, and yeah he, inukai, and akaso all knew each other from their time in kr because their shows also had its own crossover movie which also featured a bunch of other popular previous rider protagonists), which is the season immediately preceding build, because it's literally houjou emu - houjou as a pun on the japanese word for 'assistance,' and emu as in short for 'emulator' and derived from the japanese word for 'smile,' because guess what that season was about? doctors who are gamers. so yeah subtlety.exe nowhere to be found here lmao [5/?]

and hell yeah feel free to join me in the madness ^_^ toku can be one hell of a rabbit (lol) hole though, so it might lead you to become interested in other shows and movies of the medium/genre, in which case we'll be in this together as i'm also still beginning to get into other kr shows in particular (like after i finish build, i think i'll be focusing on the earlier heisei seasons of ooo, den-o, or maybe kuuga). as for where to watch it, i don't have one particular strong rec for a site rn, but what i've gone for are kissasian (kissasian . fm/info/kamen-rider-build) or toku . fun (toku . fun/post/watch-online-kamen-rider-build-full-series-49-episodes-english-sub) - obviously kissasian is more of a general site for which to watch asian dramas on, but that's if you don't mind ads popping up every so often and also the subs used are not very consistent like the source for one episode's translation could be a different team/person from the previous episode's, whereas toku . fun is specifically an archive for toku shows and movies, and is more consistent with the subs and is basically ad-free iirc, albeit i think i've also heard said subs on there described as 'usually the most accurate but also the least funny/entertaining' (ig bc tvnihon, their source, tends to err on the side of 'purism' when translating), so whichever is more your style in the end? i personally switch back and forth between the two sites, purely on the basis of if there's a translation i'm not satisfied with, even if i don't know how actually accurate it is lol on a side note, build's opening song 'be the one' by pandora feat. beverly is a nice jam, and it has an official english version where i think the lyrics (+ the original japanese version too) are something that would make one come to realize just how much they fit sento and banjou's relationship by the end of the show :') [6/?]

and thanks again for giving me the go-ahead to keep on rambling ^_^ moving on to build's female characters: there are only 2 really prominent female characters (a few others pop up here and there, or have relatively big roles for an arc or 2, but not throughout the whole show), misora (as mentioned before) and sawa. imo, both are treated decently, being fun and interesting characters with their own arcs not purely tied to the men (although obviously romance with men or the lack thereof are not inherent markers of the quality of a female character's writing, it's worth noting that neither of them are written as love interests (so you'll never get the sense that they get reduced to just that role) to any male character - but tbf, kr and other popular toku aren't really big on romance, even the het ones, in the first place, maybe bc of some japanese cultural conventions or something, but i've heard that the few canon m/f relationships that are present are usually not written very well, which is once more very shounencore of them lol - although unfortunately, there is a guy with a frankly kinda creepy and annoying parasocial crush on misora which most of the other characters don't care for either but it's still played off as comic relief, kinda larry-like in that sense if we're comparing it to aa again, and that's definitely one of the show's major drawbacks; i mean i still think build is overall worth the watch, and again, since you've gone through all of aa already, you'd be a veteran wrt this kind of trope, but regardless i think it's good to give some warning in advance to help you prepare for some of the shit that's about to go down) plus misora and sawa are eventually shown having a personal relationship/friendship with each other outside of the men too :-) however, overall they're still kinda underutilized and underdeveloped (sawa in particular) compared to the guys, plus neither of them are riders, though in kr, that's also definitely not an automatic indicator for whether a female character will be well-written or not, but then again, since we're both aa fans, i'm sure we're already very familiar with the feeling of seeing interesting and compelling female characters not get their full due from their writers, so based on that, build is survivable for sure 😔 [7/?]

and idk how well they would fare next to female characters from other kr seasons, but i also think it's worth pointing out that, for all that build's writer/s are clearly still not immune to misogyny, misora and sawa's overall writing doesn't come off to me as 'so misogynistic it becomes gay' in the vein of idk, naruto or death note, bc again, neither of them were touted as viable love interests to male characters before getting shoved to the side in favor of primarily focusing on homoerotic m/m relationships for most of the story only to still get together with those men in the end, and the only thing build was really marketed as in terms of its relationship writing was the 'heated drama between men' stuff so you already get a sense of what's in store for you from the start, and so ultimately you also don't really feel that annoyed or 'cheated' you know? [8/?]

and then on to akaso: that anecdote was from a full interview with him and inukai from when the show was just starting out - docs . google . com/document/u/0/d/1BwqtHLs5d8Vs2YCJA7XJW3TxhaGta8jo9huEo70ehq0/mobilebasic there's only very mild spoilers for the first episode and then vague allusions to what happens in the next couple of episodes or so, but if you'd still prefer to wait until you've actually watched those episodes to read it in full, i'll just copy here the most relevant parts for what we're talking about: "Inukai: The first scene we appeared together in was…. Akaso: Wasn’t it the first encounter scene? Inukai: [...] At that time, it was really hot at the filming location. During out spare time we just tried to preserve our strength, so we didn’t talk much. Now that I think of it, that day, you were staring at my face the whole time. Didn’t anyone notice? (laugh) Akaso: I was feeling dizzy from the heat, but among all the actors, I suddenly noticed Inukai-kun’s face and was captivated by it, thinking “wow, he is so pretty...” (laugh) The director, Tasaki Ryuuta pointed it out to me. I instantly came to my senses. I’ve never stared at any actress like that before, no matter how pretty, but at that time I suddenly became dizzy and just kept staring in a daze. Turns out, it was a heatstroke (bitter laugh). Inukai: You had a heatstroke because you sensed the dangers of my body (laughs). That was the moment I decided I shouldn’t let my guard down around you. Akaso: Nononono, I wasn’t trying to hit on you!! Inukai: (laughs) Akaso: Please stop, don’t add any unnecessary mental images to the word “partners” (laughs). But when Inukai-kun plays Sento, you get the feeling that he’s a very smart person mulling over a lot of thoughts in his head, I think he looks very pretty and cool. Inukai: That makes me happy, I think. Thank you." [9/?]

so there you have it lol. apparently akaso did use the word for 'heatstroke,' but the translator of this interview pointed out on tumblr that it seems like what happened had no actual severe effects on him, so it was likely just heat stress at most and he just said 'heatstroke' to clearly get the point across or something. in general, akaso during his time on build seemed to have a bit of a pattern of saying some kinda out-of-pocket things that would make one go "oh he really had the nerve to go there huh but like... is he wrong?" like when he also infamously claimed at two separate promotional events that banjou was the real 'heroine' of the story (which makes his previous comment to inukai to not add "any unnecessary mental images to the word 'partners'" funnier) 😭 during the first event, he was asked to introduce his character and then himself, and when he said banjou's name, he added that he was the 'heroine,' at which takada kaho (misora's actor) interjected and pointed at herself to say that *she* was playing the 'heroine' and there was a bit of back-and-forth between them as both kept insisting they were the 'heroine' (all in a lighthearted manner ofc) but in the end i think akaso got in the last word before he passed on the mic to takada so she could properly introduce herself this time, although she didn't bring up the heroine stuff again from what i could tell lol. the video i watched from that first event didn't actually have subs, but you could get the gist of it especially since they said 'heroine' in english. as for the second event, i also watched a bit of its video but i don't think i got to the part where he made the comment, so i only saw later on a screenshot from that same video where what he said was translated as "then, when i read the final script, it said that kaho takada was feeling down because banjo ryuga was the heroine." [10/?]

and. well... neither of them are wrong exactly fnsjngkbs. like ofc misora filled the obligatory female lead role, but generally speaking, it seems like it was obvious even among the cast that banjou, in addition to being the typical male co-protagonist like in a 'buddy cop' type of movie or show, was the one pretty much framed as the story's 'heroine,' imo in the style of a shounen anime or manga to sento's shounen protagonist position (well, the shounen animanga with well-written central m/f romances anyway), with the implication of being sento's love interest in all but name officially also. like... it's still very much subtextual but also wow talk about the lack of subtlety here too 😭 and at that second event, there was another comment he made that made me go "okay come on don't do this to us" but it's related to spoilery series-finale and post-series material, so it's probably best that i save discussing it for when you're done watching, if ever. but well yeah i'm kinda obsessed with his mind for all that like. thank you for continuing to help us fans not sound delusional via all these very enlightening comments (i mean aside from how heavy the subtext already was in the actual story) but also what's his issue 😭😭 [11/?]

btw build isn't actually akaso's first kr show - it's amazons, specifically its 2nd season, which also got released in 2017 some months prior to build's airing. amazons is one of those aforementioned more adult-oriented toku webseries and was meant to be a 'darker and more mature reimagining of the 1974 television series, kamen rider amazon,' but it got more mixed reviews overall compared to build, especially since iirc a lot of fans think it didn't handle said darker themes too well or something (there's cannibal cultists?? i think??? idk if akaso's character hiroki was one of them though). but the upside to it is that it was precisely his work on amazons that got akaso cast on build (from what i can tell, hiroki is nowhere near as dumb as banjou, but there's a similar delinquent vibe, albeit hiroki's aesthetic seems to be somewhat edgier). i find it funny though bc hiroki is apparently a 17 year old high schooler, then a few months later akaso made the jump to playing a 23 year old (which was his actual age at the time of filming) ex-pro fighter... the range of this man jwkfjksfdlms [12/?]

on a final side note about something that's not really relevant to all that other stuff but still kinda funny: i just remembered that apparently back when cm was airing, and that moment in ep. 2 (?) where adachi forces the elevator doors open to ask kurosawa out to dinner happened, people were commenting "well that's kamen rider training for you" and yeah i definitely believe banjou could/would have done something like that. though he probably would have punched the doors in the process too, or because he's a dumbass, he might also let himself get accidentally hit by the closing doors and then that's when he'd punch them in response lmao also i think i'll save my further thoughts on the kamen rider yuri and also the few canon lgbt+ characters the series does have so far + the varying qualities with which they've been written for later messages, bc once again this has gotten far too long and there's already a lot of things here for you to process and respond to so. thank you so much again and bye for now 🙏🏼 [13/13]

thank You again for all the info omg theres so much detail again ur a legend..!! reading it is so fun too i can rlly tell u like the franchise a lot that makes me happy ty for sharing all this w me 🥺 and actually to update u i watched a couple of eps since ur last asks (currently on ep8 kdjfksj i did a littol binging) and 1) it is Very different in tone from what i was expecting! i thought itd be like . moody and serious action etc but its actually rlly silly and thats a huge plus for me i love me some silliness always and 2) did take a bit of getting used to the format (+ to akaso and inukai in these roles theyre so different from cm and odt How are these the same guys) but honestly im rlly enjoying the buildup of the mystery?? and the charas are v endearing i care them already. also i cannot believe they dropped this one me in ep *ONE*

LIKE HELLO??? all i could think at first was "this is so nrmt in turnabout goodbyes coded" with the whole "i believe in you" thing but goddam . u werent kidding about these two huh. i get why the rings now i get it. Man. but yeah big fan of their dynamic so far !! and a little unrelated but im hoping they keep up the bit w banjou figuring out best matches in 1 second its my favorite thing rn fkdjsjfjdfhs

(also also this bit im just . thinking. a lot. kind of a crazy line to drop in the middle of all the silliness isnt it 👁👄👁)

anyway . onto misora and sawa omg theyre so good too ???? misora esp shes so funny and i keep wondering when theyll get into her whole powers deal its been on my mind since ep1 ........ these two are def not getting as much screentime ive noticed but at least the times they show up are great so far and none of that forced romance stuff which is what im used to sadly so ill take it 👍 just hope we do get to their backstories too eventually or im gonna be :(

also little cut to the villains too since theyre p prominent but although i already figured gentoku was involved somehow from the start i cannot for the life of me figure out what blood stalks deal is???? like is he just there for the drama of it all . whys he kind of helping the guys what does it Mean-

THE INTERVIEWS HELPJFKDJF ive heard legends of mr akaso eiji and his out of pocket commentary im understanding now ..... that "heroine" thing is Crazy though like surely he had to have known the implications right ????? doesnt he know that stuff is dangerous to fans come on man 😔 ur right abt the range tho im already so impressed by his and inukais acting in here since its so different from the charas they played in cm and odt but still p similar in how they do emotional scenes so im enjoying seeing those 👀

i think ill keep watching bc mostly i just. Really need to know what the mystery is (and still that "silly little rabbit has a death wish" thing, tho im starting to have a hunch about who its referring to.........) so yeah maybe ill have more liveblogging updates for u next time if ur interested in seeing my reactions akfjkdsjf

(before i go one last thing . ACE ATTORNEY REFERENCE???????)

[spotforme]

@not-equippedforthis thanks muchly for the tag! (i didn't wanna add to the chain 'cos i feel like i'll ramble, but hipefully this is fine) (also not sure if i should've tagged you, but again, it's fiiine. hopefully)

Three Ships: (sence it isn't specified, i'm gonna assume this means three ships that i would die for/ currently like a lot and that they can be a pairing of any kind)

firstly comes the cracksip so strong that it came to life [by curtesy of the show] it is, of course, bickmettler! the life consuming dynamic of writer & poet, chiken farmer & worm watcher, brown & blue eyed Bicky and Rocky!

the second place (at the moment) goes to Charles and Honoria Winchester! they are so sweet to eachother, trying to help the other through rough times, but they're both alone in their worlds. Charles is the most ace character ever and i love his posh attetude to everything. i have never met or even seen Honoria, but she is adorable (definedly on par with Honoria Glossop on toughness) (i hope it's very clear i'm talking about platonic love here)

third place was a hard choise, but in light of my brainrot, it has to go to Reginald Jeeves and Berthrum Wooster. however one chooses to interpret it, the adoration is always there, and very apparent; witch makes things they do very pleasant to observe

First Ever Ship: i don't remember and don't think i was even familiar with the consept at the time of it occuring. my best guess is propably some my little pony dynamic

Last song: (last song of what? why are these so vague? [i cannot know The Last song] i'm just gonna decide for myself then) the last song i put to mind was Honorable Madam by Daniel Kahn and Vanya Zhuk (at the moment i can't remember how it goes, but it had to be good, i don't think i would think it was if it wasn't)

Last Film: (it would make sense to credit the latest film i watched. now just hoping i can remember what it was) (well as it happens, i have been sitting here, trying to remember if i watched something in the past two weeks, but can't) by gum! it just came to me, the last film i watched was Sisulla Ja Sydämellä

Currently Reading: (i'm not currently reading anything except for this post thst i'm writing) if i had to name one of the books that i have started (because i am not gonna go through of listing them all, that would be a nightmare) the best would be Ammatti-vakoilija (or maybe vakooja? i don't have it with me so i can't check) (originally Spion Für Deuchland, i think)

Currently Watching: M*A*S*H (re-watching, actually), i am desperetly trying to figure out the time-loop situation. and oh boy, it's a lot. three years have already gone by within the first season. i'm also making my way through the rest of granada's Sherlock Holmes

Currently Consuming: i veto this guestion

Currently Craving: water, long sleep and the woods

righty-o then, i should think that's all.

[earthtooz]

ok so, i thought i was done talking about 'kiss me' in the tags but apparently I AM NOT

(also it might be my the first time in your inbox so hi! :))

first of all, the way you wrote the kissing scenes was SO GOOD. I said it in the tags but writing it in a way that is descriptive enough to let the reader know what's going on, but not too much to take the momentum out of it is a task i have yet to master, but you did it so well!

I'm also always a sucker for the whole - oh well if we don't want to be discovered i guess we just HAVE to make out as a cover -wait why is this kind of good and WHY is my heart beating so fast? -

the kiss behind the ear was also a personal favourite (and the hand kiss with eye contact?! the sluttiest thing a regency era man can do, abut it works WONDERFULLY well in this context)

i also really like that you didn't make the insecurity about the way the character looked in general, bit rather about how the outfit looked on them!

i hope you have a good day!

#i tried looking up when handkisses became a thing but couldnt find any concrete dates idk if regency era is correct SORRY

HELP, PLS CONTINUE, I AM ENABLING U IN UR RAMBLES !!!

(also, hi!! welcome to my inbox :D hope u had a lovely time typing up this ask!) i'm going to put a read more for this post bc it's gonna be rly long and i don't wanna block up ppl's dashes more than i already do <3

THANK YOU!!!!!!!! ugh your reassurance that i had a good balance of emotional and descriptive blurbs is really gratifying because u know what i spent majority of my time doing. PANICKING IF I WAS GOING TOO OVERBOARD ON THE DESCRIPTION OR EMOTION?!??!?! i also spent a good time pondering my word choice so the fact that you can read it clearly and it's not a bother makes me vvvv relieved.

YES the first kiss- imma be honest i had NO idea why i got the inclination to start a damn fic like that but hey, i did, and nothing could stop me ig. the kiss behind the ear was personal, i have to agree bc it... was really personal for me... it was for me okay... i wrote that part for myself... and the hand kissing part, hand kisses are my fav.

and (grown-up) bakugou is a slut so indeed, i had to make him do the, as you said: SLUTTY REGENCY MAN THING. but thank u! i'm glad u liked how i incorporated it!!!

the insecurity part was something i had to tread really lightly because i really didn't want to make it sound like reader was criticising aspects of themselves that might make it personal for a lot of people. the last thing i want is for people to feel uncomfortable with my fic, and more important, uncomfortable in their own body bc everyone is genuinely gorgeous - unless you're mean and have an ugly heart then... not so much. also since i write gn!readers, i also need to be careful about how i'm talking about the outfit so that anyone who reads it can put their own perceptions on it 😭 i don't want m!readers to read that they're wearing a dress and grow uncomfortable during the fic- that's my worst nightmare 😭 so in short: i'm glad that the whole outfit scene reached across as how you perceived it; a comment on the outfit rather than the person!

thank you for popping into my inbox, friend. feel free to talk to me again, no matter if it's just random bs you'd like to say, i'm open to hear (almost) everything- esp since you're so nice 😣😣😣😣😣 you have a lovely day too!!!!!