#already have an outline and it’s only two pages AND i know all the people who’ll read it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

latenightdaydreams · 7 months ago

Note

Haii!

How do we feel about a smut with pornstar reader & pornstar Konig? Like- their comments in their vids/twts/etc. always saying to collab w/ eachother and after awhile, they finally do 👀

-🖤

(Also sorry if I already sent this- I forgot if I did😭)

You didn't! I love the idea of being shipped with Pornstar!König. The Austrian with a monster cock🤤

Pornstar!König x Pornstar!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral

3.1k word count

König is famous in the adult film world. During lock down he downloaded Only Fans and ended up making his own account. His striking blue eyes, hidden face mystery, and 6’10 280 lb frame of solid muscles weren’t the only reasons he became so famous; he also has a 10-inch cock the size of most women’s forearms.

You, on the other hand, are a cam girl turned OF girl. You are known by your fan base never being scared of a challenge. You use toys that make people's jaws drop. Your body being strikingly stunning along with a beautiful face and kinky appetite for sex, you blew up quickly on the platform.

Because of the material you make, your fans instantly made you aware of another content creator, König. After about the 100th comment, you decide to go on your X account and check out his page. Instantly you notice the mask covering his face and his blue eyes. His bio gives his height and weight, your jaw drops. You continue to scroll and see a photo he’s recently posted. He’s wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt. His body is stunning, but your eyes drop to the outline of his erection in his pants, his dick literally hanging down his leg. You smirk now, understanding why the fans think you two should film together. You go ahead and give him a follow.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

König has also seen the comments. After the first one he instantly looked you up. His eyes shot open when he saw the photo of toys on your profile. Scrolling down a few posts he sees you, and wow. You’re wearing a pink lace thong with your breast fully exposed. You have a sweet smile on your face and you’re standing in a field of wildflowers. You look ethereal. He instantly took notice of you, but contrary to his online persona, he is very socially awkward. He has no idea how to reach out to you, or any girl; that’s why he only posts solo. Then while he is scrolling looking at his feed, he gets a notification. You just followed him.

He quickly sits up and smiles. He clicks your profile and begins to look at all the photos you’ve posted again. His heart rate is picking up, he doesn’t know if he should message you or wait. That’s when your phone chimed and he got the notification that you messaged him.

> “Hey! I’m sure you know of me from your comments 😂, but I’m y/n!”

He reads your message probably ten times before getting the courage to respond to you.

> “Hey, ja, I know you. It’s nice to finally talk.”

He hits send quickly and waits for you to respond. He can feel his heart rate picking up. He hopes that you’re messaging him to make content together. He can feel his excitement rising as his leg bounces waiting for your next message.

You sit feeling nervous yourself as you look down at your phone. He responded so quickly it didn’t give you time to think of a smooth way to ask about a collab. You’ve only ever filmed solo or with women, never a man.

> “I was wondering if you’d be interested in maybe getting together? I see you mostly do solo, so please feel no pressure. I just figured the fans would love it.”

König stands and punches the air like his favorite sports team had just won the big game. Now he just has to act smoothly and not ruin this.

> “I’d love to.”

Both of you do a little celebration dance, feeling excited about the possibility of filming together. You both continue to message back and forth and work out how you’d both meet on account of him being based in Austria, but you both work something out.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

One week later you post on your social media accounts a photo of a plane at the airport. The comments explode with assumptions and more tagging of König. During the next few hours, you continue to post your travels while König doesn’t post at all.

That is until he posts a photo of a small feminine hand in his and then you post a bathroom mirror selfie with a man’s large arm around your waist. You sit with König in your Airbnb on the living room sofa, both giggling as people begin to realize the collab is about to happen.

König paid for you to fly to him, picked you up at the airport, and paid for your Airbnb. You knew König was 6’10, but seeing him in person actually blew you away. Plus, he is so sweet. In person, his face remains covered by the mask. You have questions, but you leave it alone.

Your first day together you spend the day going over health, boundaries, safe words, and any questions you might have for each other. Once everything is settled, you both plan to film the next day to allow you to get some rest.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

König wakes up early and works out the day of filming. He eats a light breakfast and takes a long shower to help with his nerves. He is excited to have sex with a woman that he knows is very capable of taking someone his size instead of having only the tip of his cock in someone. Getting dressed in sweats and a black shirt, he makes his way to you.

You are currently sitting on the floor in front of a full-length mirror to do your makeup. You just do a light natural look for today. You’re wearing a black silk robe over your nude body with two sets of lingerie set out, waiting to get König’s opinion.

A knock at the door, you jump up and rush to the front door. Smiling, you let König inside and motion for him to follow you to the main bedroom.

“Okay, so I have two options for today and I wanted your input.”

He follows you to see a large king size bed with white lush looking comforters and he feels his nerves spike again. He sees one black lingerie set and then a light pink one that looks like the one from the first photo he ever saw of you.

“Pink, it will look great with your skin tone.” König says looking at you with a soft smile behind his mask.

You grab pink and go to the connected bathroom to get dressed.

König walks around the room and sets up the ring lights and cameras for different angles. He stands looking around and waiting for you. Slowly he takes his shoes off when the bathroom door opens and he gets to see you. He’s seen you naked online, but in person you looked even more perfect. He stands and just looks at you for a while before speaking.

“You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” you can’t help but to find his Austrian accent attractive. “Thanks for setting up too.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” König reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off.

Your eyes go over his body and smirk at how attractive he looks. You notice his erection forming as you walk to the bed.

“Do you want to film everything? Like role play and all?” You ask in a soft voice, the tension in the air heavy as you’re both ready now.

“Uh, let's film it all. I’d rather have more to edit from.” And also, because he’d want to watch these moments with you later.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

König lifts his mask slightly, the first time his audience will be seeing his sharp jawline and his thin soft lips. His lips meet yours in a tender first kiss as his hands begin to roam over your body. His hand squeezes your breast gently as your lips part and your tongues caress each other’s.

You move your hand down his chest, feeling the small amount of chest hair the covers his chest. His muscles twitch lightly at your touch. His penis now fully erect in his pants as he tastes your lips and feels the touch of your soft skin.

He moves his hands behind your back and begins to unhook your bra. Slipping the straps off your shoulders slowly before pulling it away from your body. He breaks the kiss and gently leans you back on the bed. His lips kiss all over your breasts until he finds one of your nipples. He licks in slow circles around it before closing his lips and sucking lightly. Opening his mouth again he begins to flick his tongue.

You let out a soft moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head, pressing him against you, the fabric of his mask soft. His other hand goes down to your thighs and begins to gently move up them, caressing the soft skin on the inside of your thighs.

He pulls away from your breasts and whispers to you, “Is it okay if I touch?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him asking for consent.

His hand grabs your leg and moves it to where the camera can see everything, He moves the thin fabric of your thong aside and begins to rub his thick fingers between your folds. You’re already wet when he touches you and that excites him knowing you’re so turned on. He moves his lips back to yours as he gently rubs your clit. Small moans leaving your lips, muffled into his. He eventually slips one finger down and pushes it gently into you. He feels the texture of your walls and feels how tight you are. He can only think about shoving himself deep inside of you, but he wants you to get off first.

He moves his kisses from your lips back down to your breast before kissing down your stomach. He moves your leg a little more as he rests his head on your thigh, he kisses your clit before flicking his tongue. Your legs jerk and you sit up to look down at him eating you out. He can’t get over how good you smell and taste. He is surprised you aren’t selling your panties; men would pay big money for this.

“Oh, fuck König,” you moan caressing the side of his face.

König slips in another finger as picks up his pace, as he continues to lick your clit. Hearing you moan his name means that he is on the right path to get you to orgasm for him. Your hand grasps the fabric of his mask, making him smirk before he switches to begin just sucking your clit. Your legs tremble as you drop your head back and lay back down. The sound of your wet cunt gets louder as you cum on his fingers. He keeps going for a while before pulling back.

You lie there panting before you giggle and sit up, “Your tongue is amazing.”

He chuckles and goes in to kiss you, making you taste your sweet pussy on your own lips. You move your hands to his chest before moving down to his cock, pulling back you pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. His heart rate began to pick up. The videos of you deep throating your toys comes into his mind and he gets excited. Lifting his ass, König helps you pull his sweats off of him, boxers as well.

Seeing his cock spring free makes you smile; his cock is as big as some of your toys. König leans back to support himself on his elbows to allow you room but he still wants to watch.

Grasping his dick at the base, you stroke it lightly as you lick the back of his tip. König’s breathing heavy as his blue eyes watch with anticipation. You move your hand and lick from the base all the way up his shaft, back and forth and a few times before finally wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. You begin to suck on the tip and move your head in a fast motion making König moan out. He reaches down and moves some of your hair out of your face.

“Ah, ja, just like that.” His voice shakes as you keep going.

Finally, you lower your head down the length of his shaft. Your full lips wrapping tightly around him as you take his ten inches inch by inch down your throat. König watches in amazement as he has never had a woman be able to take more than half his cock into their throat. He takes a sharp breath before letting a small moan out.

You feel a bit of pride being able to take someone like him, to make him moan like that. You look up at his eyes as you continue to suck his cock.

“Is this okay?” König asks as his hand moves to the back of your head.

“Mmhhmm,” you respond without stopping.

His hand gently guides you motion as the other one is behind him supporting himself. He lets himself enjoy the pleasure of your skills. Gently lifting your face with one hand he brings your lips to his, lifting his mask and kissing you. He wants you fully now.

Pushing your body back without breaking the kiss, his hands caress your body. You both agreed on no condom but to us the pull out method and since both of you are clean. Slowly pulling away from your soft lips he looks down at you and removes your thong, tossing it to the side.

“Are you ready, Schatz?”

“I am.”

“Gut.”

Grabbing you by your hips he drags you forward. He is such a massive man that he can easily move you. You giggle as he does and he responds with a chuckle of his own.

“Your voice is so sweet.” He tells you as he grasps your thigh as pulls one leg back for the camera view again. He rubs himself back and forth over your folds before he begins to push himself into you. His eyes watch your face to watch for pain or discomfort, yet he sees nothing but bliss.

König pushes himself as far in as your tight cunt will take at first. You moan out, grabbing his arm and the bed sheets. Your sweet pussy welcomes him with a warm wet hug and he pushes in more, a moan leaving his lips as you take him.

“You’re so tight, Schatz.” König speaks with a voice dripping with lust. His hips begin to thrust harder into you, letting his desire take over.

Your lips hug his fat cock as he pumps it into you leaving your creamy cum on his cock. He pulls out and stands to grab one of the cameras. He comes back and points it to your pussy as he slides his cock back into you, recording the way your tight cunt can easily stretch for him.

“Look at that beautiful pussy, you truly take cock so well. So fucking tight.” He picked up his pace, holding the camera in place as you reached down and put your own leg back. Your fingers digging into your own flesh as you moan out his name.

“Please König, fuck me.” You look into his eyes begging for him to get you off again.

König returns the gaze as he fucks you harder. The phone picking up the sounds your pussy is making and both of your moans.

“That’s it, cum for me, good girl.”

Your eyes flutter back as your body tenses, your cunt tightening around his cock. He puts the phone down and fucks you through your orgasm letting the other cameras pick it up. His body leaning into yours as your hands move to his back and begin to drag your nails along his pale skin.

“Good girl,” he whispers to you as he lifts his mask slightly to kiss you all over your neck and face. His hands grasp your body tightly as he continues to thrust into you. His balls begin to tighten and he feels the temptation of just cumming deep inside of you, but he can’t.

Quickly König pulls out and grabs the phone again to record. “Come here,” he grabs your hand to pull you up and sits at the edge of the bed. He points the camera down at you as you scoot closer to his cock.

Moving your pillowy lips up and down his cock, sucking as you do. You begin to lick your own wet from his cock.

“Suck it Liebling,” his voice breathy.

You move your mouth to wrap around his cock again. König grabs your hair in his hand to hold your head steady as he begins to buck his hops forward, face fucking you gently. You look up at him, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you. He moves his 10-inch cock deeper and deeper as he fucks faster. Your eyes begin to water as you close your eyes.

“Open, look at me. Please.” König moans.

Once your eyes open and you look back up at him, he presses your head all the way down. His cock outline is visible in your throat. You gargle on his cock before he pulls it out and begins to jerk off quickly. You open your mouth and hold your breast up waiting for his load.

He cums on you, letting out loud grunts of pleasure as he does. His milky white seed shoots some on your breast, your mouth, but most on your face. He smiles at how beautiful you look covered in him. You play with it a little for the camera before he stops recording.

You both relax on the bed and pant, relaxing. König looks over to you and gestures for you to come snuggle with him. The other two cameras picked up the sweet moment.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

The video blows up on both of your pages. Fans ecstatic to see you get dominated by König’s monster cock finally. The chemistry you both had radiating through the camera adding to the passion. People requesting more and starting to ship the two of you.

You have 5 more days in Austria and König is excited to spend those few days with you. He’s at home, late at night, watching the clips of him snuggling you after sex. A small smile on his face as he watches it over and over. He didn’t want to, but he caught feelings. He wonders if you feel the same.

#konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #konig x you #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig x you #smut #konig call of duty #cod smut

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kysuguru · 1 year ago

Text

two out of three. that’ll work — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : gojo still doesn’t take to you, but in the throes of your eyes geto’s smile is prettier and shoko’s personality is much more welcoming. you’ll live.

all mine masterlist

includes / cw : nothing ^_^

a / n : i’m sooooo sooo so sorry for such a long wait, truly. i nitpick HELLA. and i want everyone to remember this book was made on a whim. an impulse book if u will. so even though i have concrete ideas and outlines for the main plots, i’m writing as i go while making my way there. I trashed this about three times before finally coming to a conclusion i was somewhat satisfied with. please enjoy

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling of your dorm absentmindedly. Your alarm has yet to ring. It’s presumably thirty minutes before you have to get up and prepare for the day. Your eyes are burning and it hurts to blink, your throat feels dry and scratchy; aching for its thirst to be quenched, and your body is exhausted beyond belief. Your brain craves rest more than anything, but you still aren’t able to succumb to that sweet sleep you crave. It’s been about 15 minutes already, you think. If the steadily rising sun is anything to go by. Time passes by fast when you need it to be slow. Maybe it’s the nerves. Or the fact that it wasn’t until midnight that you returned to your dorm.

Five hours of sleep was the minimum you could get, your brain didn’t let you rest long. But you figured you’d be alright. Whenever curses were near your house, one instance of one being in your bedroom, you remember not sleeping at all if not at least 30 minutes. You got in trouble that day and scolded by your mother for sleeping in class.

As of now, your eyes are droopy and red and your body feels cramped. But the accomplishment you feel after understanding more of this foreign world of curses overrode your exhaustion. You’re not sure if you feel that same sentiment now though. You cursed your past self for putting you through such strain. Your thirst for knowledge occasionally brought you one step forward and two steps back. Being all knowing was the only way you felt significant.

As of the moment, it was one of those instances where your yearning hurt more than it nourished. Though, it was all really fascinating. Cursed energy, cursed techniques, and how they worked and came to be, there wasn’t a second you could bring yourself to put the books down. To believe the negative emotions of people fester into those horrid creatures…

It’s no wonder they were around every single corner of your school.

You’re embarrassed to say you still have no idea what your technique is, or the innate technique you were born with — or if you had an innate technique for that matter. From what you know being born with an innate technique isn’t all that likely. They manifest from ages 4-6 yet no matter how much you shuffled through your memories to see if there were any instances where you were forced to use your technique, you’re left with nothing. Maybe you did and just don’t know or don’t remember — that’s the most irritating part. You grip your hair slightly, eyes burning into the white of your walls.

There are bags forming under your eyes, you think. It hurts a bit to blink, since you got accustomed to keeping them open while flipping through books, the intrigue not allowing you to divert your attention from the pages for even a second. But to you, it was worth it. One more step to learning about this and making your way back home. To where your mother was (hopefully) missing you just as much as you do her. Maybe you should get up and attempt to cover up the evidence of your lack of sleep.

You turn to lay on your side, staring at your open palm. If you look close enough you can see a faint scar. You clench your fist closed, blinking groggily. Your breathing starts to get steadier as you stare at your knuckles, your eyes feel as if weights are pulling them down, your mind wanders to random things you don’t remember thinking about a millisecond later.

Before you know it, you’re falling asleep.

Though the three seconds of bliss was nice while it lasted, before the familiar obnoxious beep of your alarm clock rang through your ears.

You sigh. You should’ve expected that. Your mind slipped once you woke and you forgot to turn that damned thing off. Though maybe that mistake was a blessing, being late to your first day of class would be a horrible first impression. Or would it be second..?

Now you stand in the mirror and eye your uniform with intense uncertainty. You have an inkling that you look stupid. So you tug your skirt down a little bit. Ok, now you look 12. You pull up the hem.

…

Maybe you should add stockings.

The addition is better, you deduce. You’re content with this. You smile at your reflection, speaking encouraging words to yourself internally. You feel your body shake a bit at the idea of entering the classroom, the thought of four pairs of eyes glued to your form, but your body relaxes slightly at the memory of Shoko. She called you her friend, whether or not it was genuine, you’ll take what you can get. There is no point in being greedy and craving for what you don’t have — or deserve.

You lift your leg and adjust the back of your shoe to fit over the sole of your feet properly. You huff in satisfaction, standing straight and adjusting whatever you could before heading out.

Wait. Do you need supplies? Shit, now you’re nervous all over again.

Wait, wait, wait. If you needed supplies, you would’ve been informed earlier, so if required, Yaga should be obligated to give you what you don’t have.

…That’s unless he did mention it and you just weren’t listening.

Your back is against your dorm room door as you grip your head in agony. Maybe you should just tell Yaga you got the one-day flu and figure it all out tomorrow.

“Yo. You look like an idiot doing that.”

The voice is familiar, but not familiar in the way you’d like. He was no Geto, and he definitely wasn’t Shoko. You look up, eyes watery, and meet Gojo’s gaze.

“You going through something? Wait, don't answer that, I don’t wanna know,” He says, waving his hand obnoxiously, his lips downturned. “Hate to interrupt whatever’s goin’ on, but class is in thirty minutes. If you’re anything like Suguru you’re an early bird, right?”

“Oh.. sort of,” You respond, trying to discreetly wipe whatever tears that might’ve formed. He watches you do it anyway, following your movements closely. You’re a little humiliated now. He probably thinks you’re pathetic.

His stare is unrelenting, you can feel it even behind those pitch black lenses. It burns into you. Through you. You drop his gaze, eyes on the floor as you shuffle your feet.

Did he need anything else? You’re grateful he let you know when class begins, but you two aren’t exactly best friends, and you're positive this is awkward for the both of you.

But you see his shoes from your peripheral view and they stay rooted to the floor. You hold back a shaky sigh.

“Are you heading to class right now?” You ask in hopes to get rid of the suffocating silence. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to starting conversations. Your eyes are still memorizing every dirt particle on your new shoes (which feel odd to wear, you’re so used to staring anxiously at the ones your mother gifted you a year or two ago). Why did he, out of all people, approach you during your crisis? You wished more than anything that it was Shoko, but from what you know about her alone, you’re more sure than ever that she doesn’t go to class early.

“I don’t usually go early, that’s Suguru’s thing. But I guess todays an exception.” You blink, he has a lot to say. You expected a short, clipped answer. “Anyways what’re you doing out here, and what was with the gripping your head thing? Going through a phase?” He asks a barrage of questions, making sure to push his glasses up in case they slipped a smidge. You seemed perceptive, he didn’t need you staring him down and reading him.

“Oh, I was nervous. That’s all.”

Gojo nods, staring at you for a few seconds longer before his feet finally pick up from their spot on the floor. He’s walking off.

“Wait!” Your heartbeat spikes as the exclamation leaves your lips.

His shoes squeak against the tiles as he halts. He doesn’t turn towards you, but the fact that he stopped let you know he heard you. You don’t know why your heart is beating so loud, you’re only asking a simple question.

“Do we need any particular supplies for class, by any chance?” Your voice rises a pitch, and you fiddle with your skirt, positive you’re coming off as annoying.

“We take notes every now and then, by we I don’t mean me, so a notebook would be nice but isn’t required, and you don’t look like you have one with you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, finally facing you, “Let’s hope you have a good memory. Sensei likes to run his mouth.” He jabs, most likely to see you panic. It works.

Your eyes widen and you bite your lip, fiddling with your skirt, but you’re shocked once you hear Gojo laugh. He throws his head back and you stare a bit. You’re gonna admit, you expected it to be a little more rough and loud. It sounds a bit odd, but it’s kinda funny to listen to, almost enough to make you laugh along. Now the question that’s been sitting on your tongue has the sudden urge to come forward.

Your mouth moves before your mind processes, “Can I walk to class with you?”

“Huh?”

You screwed up, you didn’t mean to ask that — I mean you did. But with his response you’re kind of regretting it now. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t remember the way, and if you’re on your way there I thought maybe I can tag along. Though, it’s okay if you say no.” You wave your hands frantically, trying your best to salvage whatever dignity you have left. You instantly start playing with your nails, looking down at your shoes.

He’s silent for a moment, as if contemplating. Then he sighs.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

You beam, thankful.

“I promise not to be annoying.”

“You’re already being annoying by saying that.”

“Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. Oh wait uh..”

“…”

He scoffs before walking forward. You sprint a bit to catch up with his pace. He has really long legs. You stare at his side profile as he walks, if he notices your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. But you catch the twitch of his brow. You watch every movement you catch on his features intently, dead set on getting to know him more. You wonder if your gaze feels as burning as his does on you. As if he knows you inside out.

You were never aware of your staring problem until now.

Gojo is struggling himself. Trying not to meet your gaze. It proves to be difficult, for he wants to glare you down and watch you squirm nervously before you finally break eye contact. He hates how bare he feels when you stare.

“Gojo, what’s your inherited technique?”

“Infinity,” he pops a sucker into his mouth, uninterested. But you ignore that, eyes wide as you gasp in awe, intrigued.

“Can you explain that to me?”

Gojo catches sight of your expecting face, how your eyes glittered as your lips part. He can’t help the stroke of his ego. He quickly became smug.

“I have the ability to manipulate and distort space.” His glasses slip a smidge down the bridge of his nose, you can see a sliver of his eyes. He doesn’t push them up like you expect him to, he tends to do that — from what you’ve noticed — and they’re glowing. “Hold out your hand,” he demands, long fingers splayed out in your face.

You reach up and before you can press your fingertips against his palm, a barrier is manifested between the two of you. “Woah, there’s like.. a wall between us.”

“It’s infinity.”

You look up at him, even more in awe, “So it’s science, right? That makes it easy to explain then, huh? I thought it was way more complicated than that.” You’re too engrossed in repeatedly retracting your hand and pressing it back against this “barrier” to notice how Gojo’s expression shifts.

He pulls his hand back as if he’d been burnt and you blink, swiftly putting your own hand back by your side. A frown plagues your lips. You figure you did get a bit carried away, it was really nice to see a cursed technique at play for the first time ever. And you’re glad it was something as magnificent as that. You got excited, forgetting boundaries.

Before you can express your gratitude and apologize, Gojo is striding off once more. You notice this time he’s walking a bit faster, as if he intends on leaving you behind. Your brows knit as you sigh. You don’t jog up to him this time, letting the distance between you increase. You’re always taught not to be greedy. Occurrences like this coming into play to drill that in your head, yet you fail every time — constantly wanting more.

You enter the classroom a bit after Gojo, already seeing him with a big beam on his face as he rambles off with Geto. He’s mad at you again, you think. This is normal for you — people being upset with you. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. You try your hardest to pretend it doesn’t.

Shoko’s not here yet, unfortunately. You see two empty seats and assume the vacant one by Geto is Shoko’s, so you take the other seat. You aren’t sure what to do with this extra time, you shouldn’t have come so early, so you settle with fiddling with your fingers and looking out the window.

You hear Geto’s voice and you’re not sure if you’re being looked at, but you’re way too nervous to check, afraid that if you looked you’d be caught.

“Ogawa.”

It isn’t until a full minute later you realize that Geto was trying to get your attention the entire time. You finally look at him, the curiosity brimming in your chest and the urge to look back finally sated. His smile is kind and soft. He pats the empty seat beside him. “Why don’t you sit?”

You jolt.

“Isn’t that Shoko’s seat?” You point nervously, trying to find a way out of this. If conversation is what Geto is looking for, you’re the last person that can provide.

Gojo scoffs and you retreat into yourself, eyes averted.

You faintly hear Geto shove Gojo and tell him to shut up over the loud pounding of your heartbeat before he’s turning back to you, that same, already familiar smile plastered on his lips. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“You.. really want me to sit by you?” You ask, hopefully. You guess you still have yet to learn and expect disappointment. Geto nods, his smile getting brighter and you glow like the stars.

You stand meekly, shuffling into the seat as quietly as you could, cringing when the metal cried loudly against the tile floor. Geto huffs in satisfaction and your shoulders relax a bit. You wish Gojo weren’t here to stare the both of you down, you feel somewhat uncomfortable by his overwhelming presence. You have an inkling that disturbing you is his goal, for a small smirk paints his lips.

Geto’s voice is soft as he speaks to you. He’s asking you about yourself and you answer somewhat vaguely, unsure of how to go about talking to him. You stammer a bit, trying to find your words. You get a bit fidgety, afraid he might get irritated with you, but he’s as patient as ever, smiling as he awaits your answer. That’s when you relax completely, finding it easier to answer him in stride. You never knew Geto could be so easy to talk to. You’re starting to like him even more. It’s hard not to favor people who are nice to you. But you can’t get ahead of yourself. You have to learn to expect disappointment so you won’t be disappointed.

Gojo doesn’t say a word, staring at the two of you converse so easily. He doesn’t understand why Geto seems so interested in getting to know you. You’re boring, you don’t even know your technique for crying out loud. Weak people piss Gojo off.

Gojo walks by you as you hold your head in your hands, leaning against your dorm door. He’s confused, are you going through something? You look stupid, and he withholds the urge not to laugh at your expense. If Geto were here he’d definitely scold him. He thinks of that and the nagging Geto would put him through. He rolls his eyes and decides to approach.

“Yo. You look like an idiot doing that.”

Well he didn’t actually mean for it to come across that way, but sometimes his mouth likes to run before his brain liked to function.

You look up at him, tears brimming your lashes. The sight makes him sigh internally. If he knew you’d be crying he would’ve avoided you altogether. Comforting you is beyond his expertise. Well.. it’s not. He’d just rather not waste his time.

He asks if you were going through it. Another moment of his mouth moving before his brain. But you don’t seem to take offense, more like you just seem a bit embarrassed at being caught nearly crying.

“Hate to interrupt whatever’s goin’ on, but class is in thirty minutes. If you’re anything like Suguru you’re an early bird, right?”

You answer meekly, wiping your tears with your sleeve. He catches himself eyeing your attire behind his glasses. He’s staring at you and he’s positive you can tell, for your head tips towards the floor. You seem to be awaiting his departure, but he stays rooted to the floor, content on tormenting you this way.

“Are you heading to class right now?”

He never expected you to be the type to start a conversation, not with him especially. He noticed how uneasy you felt around him. But he cuts you some slack and answers.

“I don’t usually go early, that’s Suguru’s thing. But I guess todays an exception. Anyways what’re you doing out here, and what was with the gripping your head thing? Going through a phase?” He answers you and throws a barrage of questions coyly.

You blink. Gojo realizes how much left his mouth at once and pushes up his glasses. You come up with a sorry answer and Gojo decides he’s wasted enough time. If he got there now he could talk to Suguru about yesterday’s conversation with the higher ups before Yaga arrives. He starts to walk off, now considering the conversation boring.

Your voice interrupts his stride, you sound somewhat panicked and he contemplates hearing you out. You must’ve taken his stillness as a cue.

“Do we need any particular supplies for class, by any chance?”

You sound anxious, and he doesn’t even have to look to know you’re shuffling your feet.

“We take notes every now and then, by we I don’t mean me, so a notebook would be nice but isn’t required, and you don’t look like you have one with you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, and turns to face you. He was correct, this time you’re fiddling with your ridiculously long skirt.

“Let’s hope you have a good memory. Sensei likes to run his mouth.” The only entertaining thing about you is the expressions you make. And he isn’t disappointed with this one either. He doesn’t know why he finds your sorrow so comedic but this time he can’t hold back his laugh. If Geto knew about this or witnessed it, he’d definitely scold him, but Gojo doesn’t care at the moment, shoulders shaking as he cackled obnoxiously.

He sighs, wiping under his eyes, lifting his glasses a little. He thinks that’s enough for now, and prepares to walk off to class. But then you ask a question that makes him freeze, “Can I walk to class with you?”

“Huh?”

He raises a brow, he knows you can’t see it, but he’s looking at you as if you’re crazy.

You instantly wave your hands in panic, trying to explain yourself, he thinks your excuse is lame. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t remember the way, and if you’re on your way there I thought maybe I can tag along. Though, it’s okay if you say no.”

He’s extremely annoyed with you now, watching you fidget and shuffle about with a frown plaguing his lips. A rejection is already sitting on his tongue, ready to be fired, but he knows how disappointed Geto might be with him, so his shoulders drop.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

He watches you instantly glow. You’re not smiling but he can tell you’re happy. It’s the first time he’s seeing an expression that isn’t filled with some type of despair on you. He thinks he prefers your anguish.

“I promise not to be annoying.”

He rolls his eyes, picking up his pace.

“You’re already being annoying by saying that.”

“Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.”

You say sorry again and he scoffs to himself. Could you get any more annoying? He can hear your hurried footsteps as you try to match his stride, he feels a bit bad and slows down a bit, letting the two of you walk side by side. He did it to be nice, but it’s a decision he instantly regrets. Did your parents ever teach you that staring was impolite? The burning of your eyes against the side of his face pisses him off. But he tries his hardest not to show his anger on his face because of your intense stare.

He can’t help the twitch of his facade and he thinks you noticed. He’s resisting the urge to meet your stare, glare you down and watch you shuffle like you usually do. He craves to make you uncomfortable and show you who’s really stronger between the two of you. He really can’t comprehend where these hostile emotions are coming from but he also doesn’t care to dig deep and figure it out. It’ll come to him eventually. So for now he’ll get a bit excited as you ask about his cursed technique, jumping at the opportunity to show you how strong he is.

You’re in awe and his ego instantly skyrockets. You press your hand against his infinity over and over again, an intrigued gleam in your eyes as your lips part in a gasp.

“So it’s science, right? That makes it easy to explain then, huh? I thought it was way more complicated than that.”

For some reason that makes him irritated. “Easy to explain.” Funny coming from someone who had no idea what cursed techniques were barely twenty-four hours before. He pulls his hand away from you, as if he was burnt and instantly walks off. He thanks his long legs and their advantage to gain distance from you.

He resists the urge to turn and see your expression.

He originally did it all with Geto in mind; mulling over how he would feel if he’d left you deserted in that hallway, nervous eyes and shaky hands as you tried to find your way. Curse Geto for being such a heavy influence on him, because now he wished he’d never encountered you. Gojo considers his day already ruined before it barely started.

Now he sits and watches you converse with his best friend as if he was your best friend. Geto was always the friendly, welcoming type, so he can’t fathom why it irks him so. But it has to be your fault somehow, so until he figures that out he decides to brood in silence, arms crossed.

Shoko enters and your attention is instantly diverted. One of the many times Gojo is grateful for her existence. You were more comfortable with her than the other two. Probably a girls thing. Gojo didn’t care to understand. He instantly decided anything that had something to do with you would be ignored to the best of his abilities.

You greet Shoko in a quiet voice, as if cautious, and instantly brighten when she sends you a soft smile and a greeting in return. She points to her spot and looks at Geto inquisitively, hovering behind you. He just shrugs with a sheepish smile. So she simply sits and scoots her chair closer to you, waving her hand in a shooing motion towards Geto, “It’s my turn to hog her, your boyfriend looks upset, go comfort him.”

Geto’s head whips towards Gojo instantly, seeing his pouty expression with his arms crossed. He sighs in exasperation, a fond smile painting his lips.

You watch the two of them for a second or more before looking at Shoko. You didn’t know they were dating..

Shoko chuckles, and speaks up as if she read your mind, “They’re not actually dating. Yet, anyways. They love dancing in circles around each other. It’s irritating to witness. Utahime is a grade above me so unfortunately she doesn’t suffer through it as much as me.” She nudges you, her eyes crinkling as her smile stretches a bit wider, “You’re here with me now though, so we can suffer it together, kay?”

You nod eagerly, as if it was meant to be a good thing. Suffering anything is manageable if someone as kind as Shoko is there with you. You need to get her a gift for her kindness. Such a wonderful girl!

Yaga enters the room about twenty minutes later. Shoko lets you borrow a notebook of hers and you instantly get to jotting things down. You’re a bit surprised when you notice how mundane these subjects are. But it makes sense, you’re all still teenagers after all. You’d probably see it as inhumane if all this school taught to their students was jujutsu. No matter the importance of sorcerers and preserving the lives of non-sorcerers, it was always good to live life at least a little normally, to you anyways.

Time passed with you trying to avoid answering questions as much as possible. Even though you hated doing it, you also couldn’t help it. Whenever Yaga looked your way your eyes flew to your paper and you instantly got to acting busy to avoid getting picked on. Plus, it wasn’t like you needed to… Geto was there to answer every question smoothly for the rest of you, so there was no need, right?

Though you suppose it wasn’t evadable forever.

“[Name], can you answer this one?”

You jolt, looking up from your paper where you were “writing” (you just hovered the pen over the paper and moved it about). It was an easy algebra question, so you answered it with ease, albeit quietly. Yaga hummed in approval and moved on. It wasn’t all that bad, you recognize, but the attention is still unnerving.

Shoko nudges your side, “I got a smart girl on my radar it looks like,” she whispers. “You’ll let me copy your notes, right?” She jokes.

You nod instantly, the premise of the joke flying straight over your head. If it’ll keep her around you’ll write her as many notes as need be, you thought. It was the least you could do to repay her kindness!

She giggles quietly, and her laugh was instantly a melody you became enamored with. “I was joking, don’t worry. But you seem smart, born a genius like a certain someone, I presume?” She says coyly and her eyes drift to a particular person one seat down. You force your eyes not to drift in the direction of her finger.

“I usually study in my free time,” You shut down her assumption, you were nowhere near born a genius. “Guess you can say it’s a hobby of mine,” you shrug, whispering alongside her. It was nice, it felt like the two of you were sharing secrets.

“A hobby?” She laughs, shocked and intrigued. “You get more odd by the second.”

Your expression shifts, something she doesn’t hesitate to spot. She lays a hand on your shoulder and rubs it assuringly as she whispers, “No sweat, it’s a good thing. To me, at least. I don’t think I’d be friends with those two idiots otherwise.”

Your face relaxes and she smiles.

“Shoko,” you suddenly speak, surprising the both of you — you the most. Her eyes flit to your own and she sits, awaiting. “Do you like sweet things?” You ask, cupping your hand around your mouth as if that’ll make you any quieter.

Shoko entertains you with a grin and replicates you, hand cupped around her mouth as she leans close to whisper. Her eyes drift over you — if checking you out, something that escapes your notice — before she answers, “I love sweet stuff.”

You seem satisfied with her answer so she shifts her attention back to her notebook. Yaga turns around and her eyes flit between her notes and the board, pretending to be immersed. Though you don’t think she has anyone fooled. You glance at her for a moment more before you do the same and settle for doodling on the empty parts of your notes. Small doodles of Shoko and Geto holding gifts with big smiles on their faces. You subconsciously grin into your hand. You have no clue what either of them prefer but the thought is nice… Maybe you can ask later. Hopefully Geto will have a moment where Gojo isn’t hanging off of him.

You discreetly shuffle your position so you feel comfortable enough to gaze at him. He looks extremely focused, brows slightly furrowed as he taps his pen lightly against the desk, as if afraid to disturb the silent classroom. Your eyes drift a bit to catch a glimpse of his counterpart. A scoff of bewilderment almost involuntarily leaves your lips at the sight of Gojo simply trying to balance a pencil between his nose and the peak of his lip. Even though you have a sudden urge to call him out on his stupidity, this is actually the perfect opportunity to ask what you wanted from Geto without his leering glare, he seems distracted enough.

Yaga is turned towards the board too, voice booming loud enough that if you whispered, he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the sound of himself. It’s insane that you feel so nervous, as if speaking to a classmate during teaching is some sort of crime. But you recall the small doodle of him smiling happily with his gift and persevere.

A small, soft tap breaks Geto out of his reverie. His eyes blink in surprise before his gaze lands on you and your meek, almost guilty expression.

“Do you like sweet stuff?” Your soft voice whispers and he almost laughs aloud. You’re a horrible whisperer, and you’re both extremely lucky that Yaga’s voice echoes, for no one hears you.

He ponders your question for a moment, eyes drifting around your face before they settle back on your eyes. He’s grinning as he says, “Yeah. I like sweet stuff.”

Your visage glows with hope as you turn back to your paper, beaming. Geto’s smile becomes soft.

Brownies it is.

all mine taglist : @kaelisian @tamajoyaki @unsavedandsad @friedstudentflapranch @bomjug @mygarlingelena @phoenix666stuff @mel-star636 @gloobermoober @kallykissr @aichiomei @jaerang @luv-gin @ploylulla @mrowwww @ladytamayolover @tatiishere @kasumitenbaz @autumn-slaves @someoneunknownforyou @rosemary394 @armani78 @lordbugs @decadenthumanalienranch-blog @sokivv @crushed-l1ttle-stars @ichiikoari @okayiamkassandra @cole-silas @kakuchosbff @sugasweettea @suguguro @lacm-ac @irenesolos @redskull199987 @loreleis-world-blog @aleirnebulous @asweetblueberry2 @thel0v3hashira143 @prettypei @astral-hydromancy @ran6ia IM SO SORRY FOR THOSE WHO COULDN’T BE PROPERLY TAGGED!!! there’s a shit ton of u so maybe i got some of ur users wrong or i just can’t tag u, if ur one of those ppl plsss let me know so i can fix it. this taglist long asf!!!!!!

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ohcorny · 8 months ago

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hey corny. so i always see people recommending to outline their story before starting it, but could you talk a little bit more about what that means? what is an outline and how do you structure one? how long are the ones you write, depending on the project? do you focus on plot beats or feelings? how specific do you get? can u recommend any readings for learning more?

up front i don't have any resources for this, only experience. and outlines feel like one of those things where it's like... there are a million ways to do it and the way that works for me might not work for you. i have a friend who writes out all his ideas on index cards and that, for me, is insane. but he's also a better writer than me so who can say what is right or wrong.

anyway an outline is essentially a sketch but for a story. you go through the whole thing, start to finish, and figure out what goes where and what happens when. the idea is that this is the stage where you work out all the big picture stuff and make sure it all fits together, now, and not after you've drawn twenty pages and suddenly go "wait shit that doesn't work" and have to do it over. it is much easier to delete and rewrite a paragraph than to redraw several pages.

doing anything more, ie including dialogue or feelings, depends entirely on how useful that information is to you at that point in the process and whether the purpose of the outline is for your own guidance, or so somebody else can tell what you're trying to achieve.

this got really long with multiple examples

here is an excerpt from the original outline i used to pitch Hunger's Bite to publishers. this one had to be polished to a professional standard, because somebody else was going to read it and decide whether they wanted to give me thousands of dollars to tell this story. (also several of the details are no longer accurate. for instance it now takes place 9 years earlier lmao)

this paragraph represents the first eight pages of the book. the final book is 264 pages long, and the outline was 12 pages of paragraphs as dense as this one.

it establishes where we are, who's there, and what they're doing. i describe their conversation, but i don't commit to the dialogue. i will occasionally include snippets of literal dialogue, but usually only if it's Important Dialogue, or i just don't want to forget a good idea i had while outlining. it's not expected at this step.

an outline written as part of a pitch to a publisher should tell the whole story, with all the important details, and leave nothing ambiguous. they need to know the tone, shape, and the arcs. no secrets! all the spoilers. outlines for yourself should do this too, but outlines for others need to be as clear about your vision as possible. again, an outline like this exists for the purpose of getting you paid thousands of dollars. you should write it like that.

in comparison, here's an excerpt from the outline i wrote for revisions to my WIP prose novel, so i could show it to my agent (who already read the draft) to be like "do these changes sound good?" i'm not selling it to anyone yet, just making a guide so i can have a conversation about it. so it doesn't need to be neat, it just needs to be functional and clear. the first chapter was entirely new stuff. the second bit was just writing down what was already in the chapter that existed.

i have historically been very bad at outlining things when i don't think i "need" to, and only wrote this one after having written like 60k words of the book without any overall plan. i gave what i had to my agent for feedback and then sat down and figured out how i could apply it. it's made the whole revisions process significantly less daunting. now i have a checklist for things i need to do! this one was a paragraph or two for each chapter, with the ones that needed a lot of rewriting given a bit more detail.

lastly, here's a bit of the outline for the first roger crenshaw book. i was the only person who had to see this, and since the story was planned to be very short i didn't have to worry about a whole lot. as long as i knew what was supposed to go where, it would work. honestly it's not a whole lot different from the previous example.

this one was like five paragraphs and it did the job, and this story was like 15k words. you only need as much or as little as will actually help you on the page.

basically if you take nothing else from this, it's that there are multiple ways to write an outline, that it does not need to be perfect if you're doing it for yourself, and that it only needs what you think is important (unless it is for other people. then it should have everything). and also it's a good idea to do it earlier in the project than after you've written 60k words or drawn--jesus christ i got up to 12 chapters in never satisfied? it's amazing i didn't quit sooner

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iamnot-crazy · 4 months ago

Text

Pushing the line part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: The heart pirates have finally collected 98 hearts and are in the final stretch on your goal to promote your captain to warlord. However Law had other plans. He finally confronts you regarding the adjustment to the plan which you don't take well. This happens months after part 1 and you and law refused to talk about that day and continue as if nothing happened between the two of you but your actions and judgement for each other has slightly changed.

****

You sat in the library, surrounded by newspapers, poring over notes and calculations. A sudden entry caught your attention, and you jumped up excitedly. "Captain, we just need two more hearts before you can ascend to the Warlord ranks!" You breathed, showing him your notes. "I think we should go all-out for the last two, and I've narrowed it down to four pirate captains. They all have incredibly high bounties and large crews, but with the right plan and timing, I think we can do it." You smiled proudly, gesturing at your notes and charts. "I've outlined plans for each of them and ranked them by difficulty. You can decide which ones we should target."

Law flipped through the pages, his expression impressed. "It'll be so nice to reach Warlord status. No more people running scared from us. We can relax in towns without worrying about the government." You fantasized, while Law grimaced. "I can finally talk to my sister again without fear of her trying to arrest me," you added, smiling blissfully.

Law sighed, lowering your notes. "Y/n, we've discussed this. Our plan is to use the Warlord title to destroy that system."

"I know, but it'll still be nice, even if it's just for a little while," you insisted, smiling.

Law slumped down beside you. "Maybe," he sighed, his frown deepening.

You raised an eyebrow, concerned. "What's wrong?" you pressed.

Law shook his head. "Nothing."

"You're not telling me something. Captain, as head of tactics, I need to stay informed."

Law sighed, removing his hat and fidgeting with it in his lap. "Remember how I told you about Corazon and how he died protecting me?" His eyes remained fixed on his lap. You reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Law continued, "The person who killed him was Doflamingo... his brother."

You squeezed his hand tighter, patiently waiting for him to finish. "The day he died, I swore to avenge him by not only killing Doflamingo but destroying everything he created."

You nodded in understanding. "And becoming a Warlord will bring you closer to that." Law nodded. "Okay, we can make that happen. I'll go through everything we have on Doflamingo, and when you become Warlord and get access to government information, I can help formulate a plan."

Law shook his head, gripping his hat more tightly. "I already have a plan, but it's something I need to do alone."

Confusion creased your brow as you searched his face for clues.

"I went out last night and got the last two hearts already," he admitted. "Tonight, I'm going to the marine base with all 100 hearts alone, and Bepo will take you and the rest of the crew to Zou."

"What!" you exclaimed, standing up angrily. "No! We worked so hard to get you here. You can't just abandon us! We can help! We are a team!"

Law shook his head. "No. I have to do this part alone."

"Why!" You slammed your fist on the table. "You haven't done any of this alone, why now!" Your blood began to boil as you hovered over the captain.

"Because it's too dangerous. I can't lose anymore people I care about."

"I can take care of myself! The entire crew can! We knew what we were getting into as soon as we joined a pirate crew!"

"It's a discreet mission. I need to operate quietly, and you know as well as I do that this crew doesn't operate like that," he reasoned.

"Then take me! Just me," you pleaded, starting to sob. "I can help you! I can protect you."

Law stood up and grabbed your shoulders, steadying you. "I can't lose you," he said, placing his forehead against yours. "And you need to take care of the crew."

You pushed back, looking into his eyes. "It's Bepo's job to take care of the crew. It's my job to take care of you," you sobbed, tears filling your eyes. "Please you don't have to do this alone."

Law kissed your forehead and pulled you close, holding you tightly. "I'm sorry. I can't risk it."

You grab his back holding him tightly. Before you could respond, his form disappeared from your touch. You whipped around to see he had transported himself to the door which he quickly slammed shut locking you in.

You ran to the door, screaming and pounding, "Law don't do this! Law please! Law!" You shout as you watch Law walk away, looking back at you longingly he mouthed some words before putting his hat back on and disappearing down the hallway.

You continued to scream and pound on the door, trying to jiggle the handle, but it wouldn't budge. You searched the room frantically for anything that could help you escape, throwing the bookshelf in frustration when you found nothing.

After an hour of destroying the room, you sat by the porthole, watching the bubbles pass by as the submarine moved through the sea, and began to cry. You didn't understand why he could just leave you like this on a possible suicide mission. A shadow passed in front of the porthole, and you jumped up. Peering out the window, you saw Penguin walking past.

You slammed on the window, gaining his attention. "Penguin! Help! I accidentally locked myself in here!" you shouted, causing him to turn around and look at you. "Penguin, please! I've been stuck in here for an hour," you begged.

Penguin slowly approached and stood in front of the door. "Captain said he locked you in here for your own safety," he said, and you cursed under your breath.

"Okay, fine, he did, but did he tell you why?" you demanded, looking at him with pleading eyes. He shook his head. "Law wants to go on a suicidal mission and leave us behind."

Penguin's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

You slammed on the window. "Let me out, and then I'll explain!" you shouted angrily, growing impatient. The ruckus finally drew in another figure, Shachi.

"Penguin? Y/N? What's going on?" he asked, stepping away from the door as your angry aura seeped through.

"Y/N says that Law is trying to go on a suicidal mission," Penguin answered. "Do you think it's the Doflamingo thing again?"

You slammed on the window, scaring the two boys. "Again! You fucking knew about this shit! He is basically your brother and you just THINK that he might still be hung up on this vendetta!" Your face turned red with anger as you shouted at them. "Let me the fuck out now! I need to go with him!"

Penguin and Shachi looked at each other, terrified, before sprinting down the hallway. You screamed and pounded on the door some more, practically denting the metal.

You groaned in defeat, resting your head on the window. You looked over to see a white figure peek over across the hall. "Bepo?" you called, causing the figure to jump out of sight. "Bepo! I know you're there! Please! I just want to make sure he comes home when everything is over," you cried, your voice now raspy from yelling.

Bepo crept back into view, looking at you with sympathy. "Is he really trying to go after Doflamingo again?" he asked shyly. Tired of yelling, you simply nodded. He looked up and down the hall before placing a hand on the latch. "And you promise to make sure he comes home?"

"On my life," you stated confidently. Bepo shook his head.

"That's why he won't take you or anyone else. He doesn't want anyone to sacrifice themselves for him again," he sighed.

"Who gives a shit! If that's what it takes to keep him alive!" you shouted, causing the bear to step back. You sighed and lowered your voice. "Please, Bepo. I'm sorry. I just... I... I love him," your voice cracked as you finally confessed your feelings. "I'll do anything to keep him alive." Tears began to flow down your face.

Bepo sighed, reaching for the latch again. "Just try to come back alive. I don't think Cap can live in a world without you either," he said, lifting the latch and opening the door, freeing you.

You bolted out of the room and dashed down the hallway. As you ran, you skidded to a stop and turned to Bepo, jumping into a large hug. "Thank you," you sobbed into his fur as he wrapped his arms around you. "I promise to bring us both home."

You felt the submarine shake as it docked, and you jumped off the polar bear before dashing down the hallway.

You ran out the door to the deck tosee Law walking off the sub, holding the crate full of stolen hearts. When he reached the dock, he placed the crate down and gave one final look at the submarine before hitting the side twice to signal for it to leave. You took your chance to jump off the deck and onto the dock as the engines whirled up.

Law turned around in shock, staring at you. "Y/N!" he gasped before raising his hand to cast his room ability to summon you back into the submarine.

"No!" you screamed, running up to him and pushing his hand up in the air, preventing him from activating his powers. You huffed in his face as you held his arm. "I am coming with you, that is not up for debate!" you snarled.

Law's breath began to shake as he stared down at your angry expression. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I can't stand the thought of losing you," you declared. Law paused as he searched your eyes. "Because I love you!" you shouted, confessing your feelings. Law blinked, pulling his arm out of your hold, dazed.

"Why?" he asked again.

"Does it ever matter!" you retorted, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him into a deep kiss. Law initially froze but slowly melted into it, wrapping his arms around you for support as he kissed you back. You could barely hear the cheers from the ship as it began to float away, and you lifted your finger in a rude gesture at the crew.

Law pulled away from the kiss, looking into your eyes. "Fine, but promise me that you won't die protecting me. I don't think I can live in a world without you."

You smiled, hearing the words Bepo had said echoing through him. "I promise if I die, it will be through my own stupidity and actions, not for protecting you. If you promise to not get yourself killed on purpose."

Law shook his head. "How about we both promise to do everything we can to stay alive?"

You smiled. "Deal." You pulled him back into the kiss, sealing your deal.

****

A/n thank you for reading let me know if you want a part 3 or if I should finish it here.

but hey if you wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

#one piece #writing #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece x reader #trafalgar d water law #straw hat pirates #one piece oc #one piece original character #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar one piece #law x reader #gn!reader

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herejusttosufferalong · 4 months ago

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Part 1: I have a new theory on where L&N are at. I’m prefacing this by saying this is all my opinion, just a new interpretation of what was publicly shown. Also, imagine me starting all my sentences below with “I think…”

I will start with Brazil – L&N have a serious chat here, but nothing physically happened; just outlined what he needs to do next, but they are finally on the same page. That’s why they’re so happy there. L then sent a message to A that they need to talk when he goes home.

A, during Brazil, chopped her hair, posted stories in L’s apartment, got babysat by R, S, Amber and Carla.

New interpretation of A shenanigans: I always thought that the IG stories of her chopped hair plus L’s apartment looked smug to me. Before, I thought it was a message to fans reminding us that Lukola can’t be real because she exists. But what if those were messages to L implying that he can’t drop her that easily because she had access to his house and his friends. It could be possible that she herself arranged the outings with his friends, instead of him arranging babysitting duties.

During the 2-week break before Toronto, what people thought of as Luke’s apology tour with A (i.e. liking back her IG posts from July) was damage control for him and N. L actually breaks up with A during this period but he has to agree to certain conditions from A. Agreement could include helping her SM following, bringing her to events for networking (especially those that were already planned before the break up), her own membership to Soho, etc.

Why? A could easily throw a homewrecker narrative against N. It is easy to conceive that there was an overlap between her and N. However, even if there was none, A will have no trouble selling that narrative especially since we saw what we saw with those two in the WT, plus there are already homewrecker rumblings against N for L&J relationship. A friend pointed out as well, that if A is truly manipulative, she could use her age and naivete to her advantage, implying that she was patiently and quietly waiting on the sidelines while L fulfils his PR responsibilities, without any clue that these were all going on. She doesn’t even have to outright lie, but even a short statement with cheating implications can do damage to N.

Toronto – L&N became a couple officially. We’ve seen their interviews, so I won’t spend too much time here but in Toronto they were hubby-wife coded not even BF-GF. N posted Louvre while in Toronto as well. Lyrics “Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession. Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor.”

https://www.popsongprofessor.com/blog/2017/6/16/what-does-the-louvre-by-lorde-mean

Ireland – again, we saw what we saw, but I will stress that what happened here is what N meant when she said, ‘I can be boss bitch lady at work but when I’m home, I’m baby here’ and L rose to the occasion.

London - differing opinions on London vibes up to premiere. My new take: both are sad that their bubble is ending. N looked like she’s bracing herself and maybe withdrawing because while they can continue privately, she knows L still needs to do some work to fully disengage with A. L is reaching out more, I think to reassure her that he’s 💯 in and they will be okay.

Redemption song – I’ll be honest, this stumped me a bit. I focused on these lyrics: There’s no time for crying, only time for trying now. But I also think that this is N reassuring L, that even if their plans fall flat this time around, he only needs to try again, and she will fall again.

Pap walk - neither L nor A arranged that but A took advantage of the situation in the hotel. Thus, the 🦀 walk. She effectively prolonged her stay because it established her presence in the GA not just fandom. I don’t think L knew that they got papped until the DM posts came out.

So L, possibly with advice from PR team this time, has to pretend to still be in a relationship with A until he can “break up” with her with no or minimal damage to him and especially N. So, we mostly get group trips, we get awkward photos that eventually get leaked to the public, A’s attempts to ride on N’s coattails, etc. I think they have agreed on the date when they will “publicly” break up; it is possible that it’s before S4 filming.

So that’s the gist. I will send a Part 2 with the list of items that I think will be raised.

#this is all opinion #timelines #theories

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transmutationisms · 6 months ago

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I'd be interested to hear more of your thoughts on Melissa Broder's milk fed

i thought it was so lacklustre. like for a book that sets itself up as a work of psychological realism there's almost no attention to rachel's actual thought process as she moves through the (extremely linear and teleological and clinically approved) steps of 'recovery'; instead what we get is literally a timeskip after which she tells us she's been 'eating normally' for some weeks. like lol ok. her restriction itself is given a singular and hackneyed explanation---mommy issues---and miriam literally only exists as a fat lampshade for rachel to temporarily transfer her feelings onto instead. we don't even get any suggestion that miriam had, idk, any kind of erotic or sexual interest in rachel's eating behaviours, which would have been the obvious place to go imo. there's just not any new ground being tread here---anorexia makes rachel('s life) smaller because it's how she controls herself to try to gain maternal approval. wow where could i possibly have heard that one before.

i tjink a fundamental problem with a lot of anorexia in fiction is that people think anorexia is more interesting than eating, but they also think they have some kind of social responsibility to make their characters 'recover' out of anorexia, which means essentially that they've trapped themselves into writing a story that ends boringly. 'milk fed' opens with passages that do a decent job of capturing the repetitive and compulsive nature of rachel's anorexia, but still hold reader attention. there's no corresponding passage for her 'recovery' or refeeding or weight restoration process, because broder is uninterested in these or perhaps squeamish about portraying them as being at all unpleasant (see again: assumptions about social responsibility). so, as 'milk fed' progresses, we get less and less of rachel's interiority (clichéd as it was) and more and more moments that only make sense on the assumption that the reader already knows the dsm diagnosis and can fill in the gaps themself.

i don't necessarily want to read realist fiction about recovery; it sounds roughly as boring to me as realist fiction about anorexia itself. but the asymmetry in broder's treatment of the two is extremely noticeable and makes the book read like an episode of a medical soap. it's insane to me how much hype this book got as boundary-pushing or what the fuck. make rachel fat or give miriam some opinions or something idk. most people who write about anorexia are the last people who hve anything interesting to say about it because they're attracted to it as a form of writing a personal confessional and then shoehorned into writing a recovery story around the embrace of psychiatric normality. worst possible combination of obvious self-insert ana characters who then undergo a magical transformation conveniently just off-page and return to us Happy™️ and Healthy™️ like some kind of total system re-code of their every desire. which is also why 'milk fed', despite making gestures toward a political situating of eating and body weight, is ultimately unable to conceptualise either of these things through any lens other than (the barest outlines of) rachel's individual erotic desires.

#milk fed

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lukolabrainrot · 4 months ago

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A, during Brazil, chopped her hair, posted stories in L’s apartment, got babysat by R, S, Amber and Carla.

Why? A could easily throw a homewrecker narrative against N. It is easy to conceive that there was an overlap between her and N but even if there was none. A will have no trouble selling that narrative especially since we saw what we saw with those two in the WT, plus there are already homewrecker rumblings against N for L&J relationship. A friend pointed out as well, that if A is truly manipulative, she could use her age and naivete, implying that she was patiently and quietly waiting on the sidelines while L fulfils his PR responsibilities. She doesn’t even have to outright lie, but even a short statement with cheating implications can do damage to N.

https://www.popsongprofessor.com/blog/2017/6/16/what-does-the-louvre-by-lorde-mean

Pap walk – L brought A in the premiere as part of agreement but he never intended to get papped (maybe just the same level of public showing, very much on the down low, as NY premiere). Neither L nor A arranged that but A took advantage of the situation in the hotel. Thus, the 🦀 walk. She effectively prolonged her stay because it established her presence in the GA not just fandom. I don’t think L knew that they got papped until the DM posts came out.

So that’s the gist. I will send a Part 2 with the list of items that I think will be raised.

Ok this will be posted in 4 parts. Anon, I just have to say, I'm LOVING your theories! I don't agree with EVERYTHING, but a lot of this aligns with my thoughts that I have shared on the blog, and it is TOTALLY feeding my delulu rn! 😍

What are everyone else's thoughts??

#lukola theories #feeding my delulu

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vanilla-lip-stick · 1 month ago

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Brainrot

So I am about ten years late to the fandom, started reading Elsanna fics about half a year ago. A few times before that, Elsanna stories appeared in my AO3 searches, but I shied away from those because of the incest aspect, I won't lie. However, I was running out of femslash stories to read, to I thought, well, I can read the unrelated stuff, it's fine.

I found those two utterly charming and adorable, and I couldn't get enough. So I eventually peeked into the pile of stories where they were sisters but not only sisters. And I still found them utterly charming and adorable, but also, at times, broken, repressed, yearning, hurting, fighting, loving. It quickly became my favourite ship (and it currently still is), and I particularly like the sister aspect because I always was a sucker for forbidden love, always liked it when writers ventured into difficult territory, asked difficult questions, gave ambiguous answers, because that's what life usually is, at least from my perspective.

After, at the time of posting this, five published stories on AO3 with about 70 k words, I'll tell you a little secret: I have never seen Frozen. Most I know about it and about Anna and Elsa I know from fics, and bits and pieces from other sources. If you read hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction about them, I guess something sticks.

Also, many of those fics have inspired ideas of my own. New entries keep popping up in my backlog, and I already have about 50 outlined in various degrees. Just to give you a taste of what's in there, have this screenshot:

Yes, those numbers on the right are page numbers. More numbers? Then have this:

Before I started to treat writing seriously some years ago, before I finally committed myself to try my best to become a professional author, I was one of those people you wondered: where do writers get all these ideas from? Now, I find myself on the other end of the spectrum. I have too many ideas. (That above is, mind you, just my Elsanna backlog. My backlog for originals is even longer. Not that size matters.) There's no way I could possibly turn every idea I have had until now into a story even if I turn 100. And sometimes, this thought is so hard to cope with because while I don't think each of these ideas is a gem, there are many of them I love in one way or another.

(Some ideas, I am really scared of, and one in particular makes me sick whenever I stumble across it because it covers a topic I, as a reader, usually give a wide berth. Not so long ago, I read a fic that had this, thought I could perhaps take it, and looking back I have so say: no, I can't, and I have to fight the images in my head when I remember certain parts of the story to stay somewhat sane.)

Anyway. I wish writing didn't take so long, and I wish I were immortal until one day I decided I have had enough. I'm sure many of you can relate. (If there even is someone out there reading these ramblings. If there is, come say hi. Or find my stories on AO3.)

#elsanna #ao3 #fanfic #writing

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soleminisanction · 1 year ago

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The thing I keep coming back to, now that I've wrapped up the first part of "Batgirl, Repentant" and am starting to outline the second, is how much the book's hyper-focus on Steph hamstrings the story I think they're trying to tell.

I say I think because obviously I can't read the writers' minds so for all I know they taped the random lip service about hope and justice and fighting for the little guys onto the Stephanie-love-fest in a half-assed response to criticism, but I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt and believe that when the first arc ends with:

And that gets followed up two issues later with Steph telling Damian:

I want to take them at their word that that's what they're going for. But it's not the story they tell at all because, for all the lip service paid, there's not a single plot point that actually backs those themes up. Every single narrative element is instead 100% oriented around Stephanie, her feelings, her desires, and her ambitions, none of which involve helping or protecting other people.

Batgirl's first appearance in issue 1 isn't about bringing hope or protecting anybody, it's about, "Ooooh, who is this mysterious new Batgirl who's such a badass but looked down on by The Man for being a little chaotic? Ta-da, it's Stephanie Brown!!"

When she talks about promises being made to her mom (by which of course I mean lies, she's just lying to her mother) or the supposed "promise" she didn't actually make to Tim Drake, it's all framed as unreasonable expectations that other people are piling onto Steph's shoulders, without so much as a second thought for how the person she supposedly made these promises to might feel.

When Cass leaves her the Batgirl costume, it's not with requests to carry on the legacy or protect Gotham in her absence or even to look out for Barbara, it's all about Cass's relationship with Bruce (as though that was ever her motivation!) and then "Now the fight is yours, Stephanie" while she vanishes into the rain in her underwear. Like Batgirl is a toy she's letting Steph have her fair turn with now that she doesn't want to play anymore.

When Steph thinks about the symbolism of the Bat and of Batgirl, it's not about how it can be a symbol of hope and protection in the darkness of Gotham, it's about how it makes her feel powerful. Even when she worries about messing up it's framed as, "Nothing I do ever ends well" and "It's just a matter of time before I get caught," not concerns about the harm her previous attempts that "didn't end well" wound up doing to other people.

And despite the fact that there's a riot going on in the next few pages, she's not inspired to go out and help with that, but to assist a single dumbass cop who got in over his head.

And then again when Babs shows up to chew her out in the next issue, it's all about Steph and her safety. "You already died" this and "You have a death wish" that. Barbara Gordon, the original Batgirl, only gets to talk about the symbolism of Batgirl as it relates to Stephanie Brown -- "Wearing that Bat on your chest might scare off the smaller thugs, but you're literally asking, no, begging for attention from more dangerous criminals. You're a mark for anyone who wants to make theirs."

Again, even the fact that she fucked up in the past and hurt people is framed around Steph -- "The last time you tried being helpful, you accidentally brought Gotham to its knees." And while Steph pays lip service to "doing this instead of sleeping" because she "thinks it's right," she doesn't ever elaborate on what exactly is "the right thing" she thinks she's doing, and it's not like she's gone out to protect people. You can't even argue, like you maybe could with the street race, that she's doing a flashy display to show ordinary people there's someone on their side -- she's beating up random goons in an isolated chop-shop.

Then of course there's the fact that nothing about Scarecrow's whole Thrill plot makes any sense because he's not being written with any kind of coherent villain motivation, it's all just being done to set up moments for Steph. Why do some of his goons decide to spike the punch at a random college party and then run away at just the right moment to make themselves look as suspicious as possible? Because Stephanie's going to be there and they need to hook her into that plot.

And when Steph argues with Babs later about why they should work together to solve this case, does she express concern about her classmates or her university, or even point out that Barbara isn't working with an on-the-street agent like she has in the past and hey, maybe you'd be a little less stressed if you had someone to share the load?

Nope. It's just "I'm just as much a part of it now as you are!"

To say nothing of my eternal, teeth-grinding frustration over Barbara's characterization. "I'm only being so hard on her because I'm jealous that she's Batgirl and I'm not anymore." Fuck all the way off, Bryan Q. Miller.

This whole thing is so bad that when you get to the climax of this arc -- when they've tracked Scarecrow and his goons to their creepy hospital lair -- the stakes aren't that anyone is in danger, or that there's any chance that Scarecrow might be able to escape in the next five minutes before the police arrive. In fact, if Steph's actual motivation was to make sure Scarecrow saw justice, it would've been a better strategy for her to stay outside watching the exits so she could jump him if he tried to make a run for it.

But she doesn't do that. Because the actual stakes for the climax of the first arc are that if she doesn't swing in and beat the shit out of Scarecrow right the fuck now, the police will beat her to it and then Stephanie won't get the credit for saving the day.

They even try to clumsily raise the stakes by implying that Scarecrow works for Black Mask, a plot point that goes absolutely nowhere because -- whoopsie -- Black Mask is dead at this point and has been since before Steph came back to life. He only ever showed up again as a Black Lantern in Blackest Night, at which point Ivy fed him to a plant.

(They did not fix this in the trade paperback version BTW, I checked)

There's some effort to turn Steph's fight with Scarecrow into something more by having him spout some weird nonsense about how he's controlling people with drugs because, "Nobody truly has a choice little girl" while she represents free will fighting back against attempts to take it away, but that's seriously hamstrung by the fact that writing is all over the place.

Like, at the start of Steph's big dramatic speech, she's all but arguing against the concept of free will, echoing an earlier classroom discussion I've bitched about before, saying that people (by which of course she actually means herself) stay when things get tough "Because we don't know how to do anything else."

But on the very next page she poses the question again and answers it with... frankly complete nonsense.

Because the point isn't actually 'control vs. free will', the whole thing -- all of the forced, misunderstood philosophy that fills out this entire arc -- is actually just repeating the same question Babs was asking earlier, this time in metaphor -- why does Stephanie keep throwing herself into danger, why doesn't she just quit?

And her answers, apparently, are, "because this is who I want to be" and "because I don't know how do anything else." Neither of which spare even a passing thought for anyone but herself, which is kind of a problem if you're trying to present Batgirl's mission statement as bringing hope to the people around her.

Then there's the bit about "facing your worst self," which refers to slightly before this, when Scarecrow drugs Steph with Thrill (a move that makes no sense in-universe because again, Scarecrow is only here to set up set pieces for Stephanie and has zero internal logic of his own). What Steph sees during that sequence is her ex-boyfriend and previous identity tearing her down and telling her that she's not good enough to be a superhero, which implies that her 'worst self' is self-doubt, or possibly "letting other people make you doubt yourself." Again -- all about her, with other people framed as nothing but obstacles to her happiness.

And just to remind you-- she has no actual reason to be here. She's not "saving the city," the city is not under threat. She's not doing anything heroic by throwing herself into this fight. She's only doing this because she wanted the credit for saving the day. That's the only stake the story ever establishes.

It's like there's this standing assumption that she must obviously want to be superhero for selfless reasons, therefore they don't need to bring that up ever and can just focus on how much she wants to be one and how noble it is that she's willing to fight through pain and hardship to be one.

But that's just not how it works? Maybe if you were still writing for the Golden Age when the storytelling was simpler and characterization was optional, but not in 2009. Part of the purpose of a solo book's first arc is to establish/re-establish the core hero's motivation and, if it's changed, explain how and why.

Just as a contemporary example -- Red Robin sends Tim Drake off on what's literally a personal quest and spends its first arc establishing how he's darker and more alone than he's ever been before... but it still opens with him rescuing a kidnapping victim, reaffirming that, whatever he's going through and whatever he has to do to accomplish his goal, he's still, at heart, a hero who will put his own needs aside to protect an innocent. That's also the role that Tam Fox essentially plays in the second arc, giving him someone to protect even when he's isolated from the normal push and pull of the DCU.

Whether you're approaching Batgirl (2009) as a new reader who's never met Steph before in your life, or as someone who read her previous material, there is nothing in this first arc, or those that follow, that establishes her motivation beyond, "I want to be Batgirl and I won't let anyone tell me no." She'll occasionally say she's being selfless and heroic, but it's not backed up by her actions or her thoughts.

Perhaps the most blatant self-contained example of this "It's all about Stephanie and obviously she's a perfectly selfless hero so we don't need to bother establishing it," mindset comes in the denouncement of the first arc. They recreate the vow in the dark -- not the most iconic scene in Batman history but still one that's well-known, a moment that goes all the way back to the first appearance of Robin, when Dick and Bruce vowed an "undying oath" to fight together against crime and corruption and never to swerve from the path of righteousness, symbolically committing themselves to act as a light in the darkness and protectors of the innocent.

Batgirl (2009) recreates this scene... by having Barbara vow to support Stephanie Brown and only Stephanie Brown in everything that she does "for as long as she wants it" so she "won't go out alone" and end up in a chair like Babs did. Meanwhile, Steph's response boils down to, "Oh yeah totes me too," because, according to the book, she doesn't need to take an oath, it's just completely self-evident that she's already made her right choice and will obviously continue to do the same forever and ever, no doubt about it.

Two extra little details scattered throughout:

Through the entire series, Steph is constantly doing this obnoxious humble-brag thing of, "I'm Stephanie Brown, and I'm just a normal girl tee-hee" over images of her doing badass Batgirl things that are obviously supposed to be ironic, and she always uses her full name. The trade paperback version is literally called, "Batgirl: Stephanie Brown" because there's nothing else to say about this story. Tim Drake: Robin didn't use his full name this much and it was actually in the title.

And that's not even getting into how often they waste entire pages on splash images of just... Stephanie. Not Stephanie doing anything special, just, Stephanie, and we're supposed to be very awed and impressed by her because she's Stephanie Brown and she's Batgirl now wowie wow wow.

That one tiny little caption box in the upper-left corner of the last page of the storyline? That's literally the first and only time that the concept of "Batgirl makes sure everyone gets home to see tomorrow" is ever mentioned.

This his is all just the first storyline. This same pattern continues on into the rest of the book, only getting worse as they add in other Batfamily member guest-stars for Steph to show up and prove wrong, and stock civilians who do nothing but shower her with praise and adoration. The tiny little sprinkles they offer up of, "Oh yeah I'm doing this to bring hope to the people of Gotham!!" just don't compare to deluge of "Steph gets to be Batgirl because she wants to be Batgirl, that makes her the coolest motherfucker on the planet, and if you disagree you must be sexist."

---

TL;DR (and sorry this got so long) -- Bryan Q. Miller et. al seem to be either under the impression (or want to give the impression) that they're telling the story of Stephanie Brown, the plucky young girl who never gave up on her dream of being a superhero no matter the haters or setbacks she faced, and how seeing her succeed despite being so average and relatable inspires other average people to have hope and fight for a better tomorrow.

But the story they actually tell is of Stephanie Brown, a teenage girl utterly obsessed with becoming a superhero to the exclusion of all else, including her own well-being, future, and relationships with her friends and family, apparently just because she likes the way it makes her feel, has no self-control and can't imagine herself doing anything else, who is applauded and cheered for this by everyone she meets, save for a small handful of haters who are just there to be proven wrong, beaten up, or both.

The first could've been a good-ish story -- ish, because it doesn't actually engage with Steph's previous characterization, but that's a different post -- but it's just not the story they told.

#stephanie brown #batgirl #batgirl 2009 #batgirls #dc comics #dc #batman #meta #comics meta #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #hmmmm I wound up spending all day on this whoops #ah well it was a sick day and I needed to get it out of my head #there are worse reasons not to move for eight hours

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evegwood · 1 year ago

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how do you atually write a script for a comic fhhhdhdhdh like do you write it the same as a movie script idk how to start

My basic system is using bulletpoints inside a table. Each table cell is a page, which is handy for planning page spreads, and each bulletpoint is a panel. This script also divvies up the scenes by colour so I can block out how long each scene is:

Because I'm the sole artist, I don't include any information that is obvious to me; that means expressions, poses, or individual panel sizes don't usually make it into the script. If there's something really dramatic and important I'll include it, but otherwise I tend to work out character poses when I'm thumbnailing or pencilling. I'm already kind of laying out the page in my mind when I'm writing so when I go back to actually draw it I'm like yeah I know exactly what face Vic is pulling here.

I do also have @spiremint on board now as colourist but because I don't really think in colour I don't have any notes for that in the script. Instead, I make notes on the inked/pencilled version of the page when I'm sending it to Spire for the colour script. Those notes will say stuff like the mood I'm going for, the weather, what happens in the scene so he can give me some cool alternate background colours. Spire never sees the script, it really is just for me when I'm pencilling/lettering, and then I discard it and work from what I have in front of me. It's a stepping stone tool, not a strict guideline of what the page should look like.

That's how I write a script, but you can write your script literally however you want! If it's just for you to read, you only need to include as much information as you find important. For some people that's everything because they either can't envision the scene without a description or because they want to make sure they don't miss anything important out, and for some people it's the most barebones thing imaginable. If it works for you, just do it!! You don't need to write a script like you would for a movie unless you really want to, or it's for someone else to see. Do you want to see the entirety of my script for the Chapter 5 lasertag scene?

Now here's a more helpful answer. I always start with an outline of what exactly needs to happen on each page so I don't need to work too hard figuring out how many panels should pass before I need a page break. Example:

You will probably want to think about three main things when putting your script together: dialogue, environment, and character. Each panel is an individual moment in time. That means you shouldn't have too many things happening in a single panel, and one panel should generally only have one dialogue moment, one environment note, and one character action. Someone can't jump up in alarm and then look relieved all in one panel, because that's two character actions (and would also be pretty difficult to draw but shh). A character shouldn't (can, but shouldn't) say they want to leave, then change their mind and ask for another drink all in one panel, because that's two dialogue moments. For environment notes, you really shouldn't have an explosion and the hidden treasure revealed all in one panel, because that's two environment notes. You don't need to stretch everything out into its own panel, but make sure you watch for too many things of the same category happening in one panel.

That's a lot of info, but I hope it helps!

I'm doing a little Q&A right now to celebrate the launch of the Inhibit: Book Two Kickstarter! If you have a question about Inhibit, comics in general, or anything else, shoot me an ask 🔥

#asks #ama #anonymous

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batw1nggg · 8 months ago

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this is just me being silly but im making a script for an essay video analyzing all of nagito's songs because i realized a lot of people dont even know about all of them especially poison i have absolute hope birthday and remaining cherry blossoms practically finished but i have no idea where to start with what poison is about lmao

if u do end up recording the essay PLZZZ LINK !!! i would love to see !!!!

ok so i’ll only be able to give a very surface level analyzation because i don’t know japanese and translations between eng and jp are always sort of janky, i might get some things wrong or miss some nuances (if anyone knows some japanese and wants to chime in please please do!!). but i can definitely give u the basic gist of it. translation taken from the danganronpa fandom wiki page. ok here we go

so the song takes place when komaeda kills himself (“I believe that hope / And will offer my pulsating heart / For the sake of that brilliance / I’ll tear apart my chest / Until the very last drop / Trickles down and wets my lips”, “I am merely watching over you”).

To me it seems like a summary of his thought process — he mentions wanting to “meet the biggest hope” (the hope that will overcome the despair of and end the killing game), how he has “no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring” (his thoughts on talentless people). those parts of the song are just outlining the basics of his worldview.

but, because this song is about komaeda’s death, it’s also inextricably tied to hinata. we see this most explicitly with the line “I love, and want to understand / him more than anyone else”. a main theme of komahina is their desire to understand each other.

That��s the really obvious hinata reference, but he also seems to be referenced more subtly throughout:

- “I have no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring / What meaning is there to words that will neither be deadly poison nor cure?” this is komaeda talking about how he thinks talentless people are boring, they’re neither shining hope (like the ultimates) nor crushing despair (like junko) and are just pawns in the game; but also, who exactly was it that chose to be neither deadly poison (despair) or cure (hope)? to create an ending separate of hope and despair altogether, to create a new choice, to focus on the future? komaeda’s asking what meaning there is to anything that is neither pure hope nor pure despair — anything that is not necessary to the cycle of hope and despair. hinata will go on to give him the answer.

- “When drinking poison poured into a glass will you drink it immediately or throw it away?” this one seems vague but I’m inclined to believe it’s about hinata because it’s followed by “I am merely watching over you / to whom the last choice is given”. the “whom” is very obviously hinata, he’s the one that makes the choice to wake up and then inspires everyone else to choose the same. that former lyric about the poison seems to be a fancy way of komaeda asking whether or not hinata will give into the despair of finding out the truth (drinking the poison) or decide to keep going despite it (throwing it away). he’s watching over hinata in death, entrusting hinata with that decision.

hinata being a core part of this song really speaks to how much trust komaeda was putting into hinata in chapters 5 and 6. i’ve already made a post or two about how komaeda’s faith in hinata to solve trial 5 and survive trial 6 was an integral factor in the game’s ending. komaeda can’t talk about his death without hinata being part of the conversation; hinata is the only one who’s ever tried to understand him instead of completely writing him off as insane, he’s a big part of komaeda’s life. we see at the end of the komaeda pov manga that hinata was komaedas last thought before death.

so yeah. to summarize: the song is about chapter 5. komaeda talks about his worldview, talks about how his worldview and faith in hope led to his sacrifice, and talks about his faith in hinata.

#i hope this is somewhat coherent .. im very eepy writing this #ko’s danganronpa ramblings #nagito komaeda #asks #komahina

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blkkizzat · 3 months ago

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Do you have any tips for writing fanfics? Like I wanna make my own but I’m scared people aren’t gonna like them 😭 Also how do you usually end a story? I’ve written before for school and stuff but it’s just kinda hard when I come to the end of the story…😓

-🪼

hey 🪼 babes! sorry i wrote alot so it took a min lol. take with a grain of salt though as what works for me may not work for you!

writing tips:

so first off: write for yourself. i know it's been said a million times and a worn out cliche but to break it down a bit— i feel like if you like your fic than other people will too. that is to say, we are all in the same fandom and are dorks/nerds, and like similar things even outside the fandom. i know people have their preferences on content but if you write it for your particular tastes and preferences, i promise there's other people in the fandom that will share in that too.

also even though my adhd works against me, i at least try to be organized and i always make an outline for a fic.

its super helpful to break everything up into small pieces. because then you arent staring at a blank page expecting a story to materialize from thin air LOL.

heres some things to include in your outline.

set the scene/world. where are we? what time is it? what are we initially feeling? which all Setting these things up from jump hooks in a reader as they want to feel like like are immersing yourselves in the world. especially x reader stories. i feel like x reader is so much easier to write then for two seperate characters, because if all else fails you can always call on how you personally felt or would feel in a situation then elaborate on it.

characterization. don't be afraid to make your characters a bit unlikeable, highlight their faults as you do their good parts. ex. my plug!choso fic, reader is a bitch lmfao. she takes choso for granted even though she's the happiest with him. the thing is—she knows that and it starts to eat her up. if a character can have self awareness and grow, then they have more depth than a character written with no faults.

conflict/goal. whats the conflict or what are we working towards? like even for a short pwp for ex: the goal is cum without getting interrupted/walked-in on because we are in a public bathroom. then from there you can work backwards and think. okay so what conflicts/problems would arise? where is this bathroom? what time of day is it and how many people are around? is anyone waiting on us/did we leave others to run off/will they come looking for us? you can make a conflicts out of any of those. conflicts drive the story forward and help you reach your end as its your beacon for how you progress.

ending. your ending only needs to tie the immediate conflict up. there could be an overarching conflict but you dont need to solve everything in your story. ex, continuing from the previous, y'all could be in the bathroom fucking and although the immediate conflict concerns no one interrupting you, the overarching conflict is that you both have significant others already and have yet to break this affair off. of course a pwp so you arent going to dive deep and explain the aftermath or the breakups, etc, but you can leave the story on a cliffhanger and lead the audience to guess whats next.

other tips.

don't write linearly: that is you dont have to write your story in the order of beginning, middle and end. start from wherever you want. skip around. its easier to write out the parts you do know you want then connect it together. even if its just a random piece of dialogue thats a sentence you know you want 2 scenes later, just write it down. writing is a messy process, not neat at all. which leads into... just write: even if you arent sure if you liking the idea 100% just yet write it down! you cant get to the next idea if you are stuck on why the current idea you are thinking of isn't good enough. lol this is why i say i get to a point in the process where i hate everything because ill be stuck with these meh-ideas but i know i have to get them out to get to the good idea.

edit: i edit my fics until l its something im having fun with. if you like it on first go around then thats great but just saying that to say its better to rework it or come back later to it (move on to something else in the meantime) than to put out something you aren't happy with. if you are proud of something you did that will definitely be reflected in your fic!

meditate to tap into characters: idk if you meditate often but i like to try to visualize myself in the character's shoes. what am i feeling? physically or emotionally? are there any distractions? how would i react to this? it helps with conveying character emotion, motives and makes the scene be more immersive. but in at same note, you don't have to give everything. focus on the most important aspect or two and the audience imagination will fill in the rest. some of the best compliments ppl have given me is they felt like they were watching a movie reading my fic (ty y'all the best) and i feel like its because of the immersive aspects in my fics which i take from my own reactions/experience. this also circles back to the point of liking your writing. because if you can convey what you are feeling well enough that you personally feel it re-reading your work, others will too. I hope these tips helped! 💕

#🪼 anon #ೃ༝💌⁀➷ 𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉мαιℓ #ೃ💌⁀➷𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉αησηѕ #writing tips #fan fic writing #reader insert

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anemiccastiron · 11 months ago

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Steve, Eddie, or Jonathan Fic?

Hi! While I'm not going to write about Billy, I thought maybe I could do something with Eddie, Steve, or Jonathan? I have a story outline, not sure if any of you'd be interested, or with which character, so I was putting this out in hopes for some clarity!

It's a very rough outline! Fem!reader - I use 'she' and 'her' basically every other word.

Uncool, dorky guy annoys girl since elementary school; answers her questions, harsh peer grading, comments of certain food "toxicity" while she and her friends pass by in the cafeteria, and accidentally breaks wrist before graduation during gym period.

At graduation, during announcements they realize they are attending the same near-home college. Approaches her around her family to sign his yearbook. Her friend warns him off, informs the family that's the kid who broke her wrist. He's scared away by angry parents.

College starts off with some of the same gen ed classes. First he is the same, annoying and loud. While looking at the club board, he comes up next to her and asks what she's joining. Quickly, the first thing she sees he wouldn't like is ballet. Yanks the square, tearing down the whole page and it floats to the ground.

As years pass in college, he quiets down and avoids her. She is working as a finance intern, while still doing ballet in her free time.

On Thanksgiving night, painting a DnD board model, his roommates got tired of his music that he listens to while he works, and tosses the board out of the window...

...Coming home from a bad family dinner, where she is made to feel childish for her hobby and not focusing her free time on furthering her career and spending time with family, she sees him picking up the pieces on the sidewalk. Helps him, and they awkwardly chat.

Senior year, the last party of the year, she goes with her friends. He goes to get at least one taste of that sort of thing. She's sitting in a room, one she's occupied by herself by faking sex noises. He goes to find somewhere to decompress and knocks on the door. His smarts and being sober leads him to ask, "Wait, doesn't it take two people?" and goes in, innocently - not creepily. They both sit and talk. She asks about what he plans to do after college. He has a job already lined up as a graphic designer. He asks her, and she has no idea what she plans to do. She tells him that his life always seemed easy. He explains it hadn't been; no real friends, no social life, no saying the right things to the right people (hint, hint). He tells her that her life has always seemed simple. She gets upset, with all her underlying issues. She leaves.

Four or so years pass and at an office party with his colleagues, she and her boyfriend (who works there) are in attendance. She sees him first, boyfriend asks and she tells him how long she's known him. Boyfriend says he's one of the guys that he regularly gets drinks with after work. She’s like, "oohhhh, that's xxx..."

...He doesn't see her until he makes his round of hand-shaking and gets to her boyfriend. He's awestruck, she's still just as beautiful. Party goes on and the boyfriend asks if he can hold a DnD campaign at their place with some friends from work, him included. Only asking now she's had a proper chance to meet them all.

Come time for the session, she's picking up their dog from surgery. She thought the game would be over and went upstairs to ask boyfriend to help carry the dog up. Boyfriend says no, since he's still playing the game, but mc guy can because his character is badly injured, but truthfully just wants to talk to her. So, he goes down and pets the dog. He says, "What a pretty girl," and the girl says, "He's a boy." He just smiles, since it really was for her. They talk about how life has been, what she's been up to. Asks about ballet, and she says she doesn't dance anymore because it "doesn't pay." He laughs and says, "Hobbies usually never do." She explains she knows, but doesn't explain that she stopped because she felt guilty because of it. She wanted to use her time to be with family, friends, at work, and with her boyfriend (he asks how long they've been together (four months)). So, he asks what she does for fun then. She reads, and he asks what book currently. She laughs, and he knows it must be something "bad" to get that reaction. She eventually tells him, and it's a "spicy" fantasy book and he makes some comment that lets her know he's read it too. As they smile, there's a flash of a scene where it mimics the book - them two as lovers in some dystopian woodland, on a blanket, kissing and expressing love lol. She instantly blushes and breaks eye contact...

..Then ends with asking about an upcoming high school reunion. Neither were going to attend, but plan to now.

He's waiting against his car, she arrives, pokes fun at him for waiting and that he's shaved, but he said he wasn't going in without her. They go in, their high school respective friends call them over, they part ways. Her old friends, true to style, ignore his whole existence, and just talk about how long her hair has gotten and so on. His friends pat his back, laugh about how dresses now, and then ask about her. He doesn't really confess anything, but smiles as he dismisses their comments...

...A little time later, she excuses herself to go call her boyfriend to ask about the dog. She takes her clutch with her, so it looks like she's leaving. He freaks out and follows her. The sun is setting, so it's scenic lol...

...Their conversation starts off with her asking what he's doing, why he followed. He comes up with some lame excuse, but really worried she was leaving without getting a chance to talk.

Eventually spills his guts to her and says, in question format, if she knows why he answered all those questions for her in school. She doesn't, and he tells her it's because he knew she wasn't good with science or math. He wanted to help her, but realized how annoying he was about it. Reaches out, rubbing the wrist he accidentally broke, and apologizes for how he treated her then. Goes on to explain that in college, as he matured and she only got prettier, he was just scared to approach her, so he didn't. Now as adults, he just wants to be put out of his misery, so to speak. Her hand, that he was holding is placed on his chest, above his heart, and he apologizes that she's with someone and he’s saying what he is, but he just needs to know. She's shocked and doesn't really answer besides, "I'm with xxx..." which technically is her saying she does like him, just nothing she can do about it now. Then she goes back in.

A little while after, she's constantly thinking about what he said, but is ultimately wanting to make it work with her boyfriend. Though, he's more work motivated and wants to climb the corporate ladder. She's picked ballet back up and they see each other less. After sex one day, interrupted by a work call, they both lay there. They come to an agreement that it's not working out, and end things on good terms.

A month down the line, she runs into him at the craft store. She's buying fabric to sew pillows at her new place and he's buying stuff for DnD. Things are a bit awkward and silence lingers, then she cuts in if they can talk that night, maybe a date. He smiles and asks, "What about your boyfriend?" And she tells him they broke up.

On the date, at an ice cream parlor downtown, the conversation is the usual, a bit stale as they warm up. They go for a walk around downtown. By the end, tired of tiptoeing around what she wants to say, she stands in front of him and tells him that she almost hated him when they were younger for what he did, that there was this guy she was attracted to but he was being unkind to her. Then he just stopped all interaction during college and she still was attracted to him, and now he's confessing that he likes her, upset he did it while she was in a relationship, and tells him, despite that, she still "likes" him.

blah blah blah they get to know each other and love one another

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x fem!reader #jonathan byers x you

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desultory-novice · 6 months ago

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No rush on answering this, I know you got stuff going on

Can I ask about you MariPav process? I want to make a comic too and MariPav is a huge inspiration for me. So, I was wondering if you could share any tips.

The main things on my mind are

How did you come up with the story and how much of it do you have planned before hand

What is the drawing process? Do you do a rough sketch first, do you do a chapter's outlines and then color or do you finish a page then do the next, etc.

About how long does it take you per page?

How did you decide the level of detail you draw in for this comic?

Do you have any monochromatic shading/coloring tips? I'm not very good with working outside of color

How do you keep consistent character design?

You're also really good at speech bubble spacing and comedic timing that doesn't pull you out of the story. How do you do it?

Sorry,, I ended up asking a lot of questions...

; _ ; Ahh, thank you so much for asking questions about my process?! It makes me feel good to know people are interested and I'm happy to go into (lots) of detail about it!

1) [THE STORY]

So, the initial concept of Marionettes' Pavane came from two separate comics I'd wanted to do. One was about how Magolor and Marx reunite after the end of Return to Dream Land. (I had only been in the fandom for a little bit but had already fallen hard for this ship, and while there were lots of stories about how they met, pre-RtDL, it seemed pretty obvious to me that Marx wasn't around for RtDL so I wanted to know how they might have gotten together after.)

Another idea that stuck in my head was for a story about how Marx went from being an innocent Noddy to the Marx we know and love. Neither of these ideas were going to be gijinka to start with, btw - I've mentioned this [one really long Kirby x Marx comic] I read on Pixiv that was a huge storytelling inspiration to me for MariPav.

That, plus a few other good gijinka fan comics, was probably what pushed me to make it a gijinka story, in addition to a few lines that popped into my head that worked better if they were humanoid.

(Initially, I was still going to do the Marx backstory comic separately, but I realized it was just easier to work it into MariPav because it was clearly influencing MariPav Marx's characterization. Then I wrote up a Magolor backstory chapter to match.)

As for the writing, I wrote out the WHOLE script, beginning to end, before I began drawing it! I knew myself and I didn't want get lost as to where my own story was going or pivot directions so hard in the middle that the beginning no longer made sense. Writing it was pretty exciting, so it wasn't too hard to get the whole thing done, though it definitely took a few months of chipping away at it.

(In fact I was so addicted to writing it that after I "finished," I couldn't stop toying with it and added on several epilogue chapters! ^^)

You can additionally get a glimpse at what some of my thought processes/inspiration for coming up with the story were by re-reading my old Marxolor "rant" [here]

As for the process, once I'd jotted down enough lines/conversations to establish the theme ("Was it worth it?" etc etc) I would draft out summaries for what I wanted to have happen in the chapters (interspersed with whatever thoughts about the story came to mind that I might want to include somewhere later, not all of these made it in, such as Magolor trolling Marx with the ladder) and, when inspired, add in bits of conversation till I had enough material for a full chapter.

[Screenshot of a chapter breakdown from one of my earliest drafts]

Inspiration came from a lot of places. I would re-review cutscenes from RtDL or other games, look at inspiring fanart, or indulge in completely unrelated media till something would click as "Oh! Marx and Magolor really ought to have this happen to them!"

[Screenshot of a paragraph of (unused) ideas from one of my earliest drafts]

[An early draft of Chapter 5. I used red and blue text for Marx and Magolor's dialogue early on. The scene is in an early, unfinished state. Notice how figuring out I could work in the Gem Apples was something that came along toward the end, even though now, it seems like the whole POINT of the chapter. XD]

I wrote MariPav before learning about the Snowflake Method for writing stories, but as you can sort of see here, my method did come close to following the "one sentence summary > one paragraph summary > three paragraph summary > write it" style.

When I was gearing up to finally draw it, a month or so after reaching the "end" of the story (though I actually wrote the "end" really early on and it's remained 95% unchanged through multiple additions. Sometimes, you write the ending first ^^) I went back in, cleaned the script up, filled in any lingering <n happens here> lines and added in stage directions, which is the script I currently work from!

2) [DRAWING IT]

As for my drawing process, that's changed a bit from the beginning, but here is my current drawing process! First, I'll draw a really loose "thumbnail" sketch in big blocky pencil. This is normally just "Marx go here! Mago go here! Mago mad!!" type stuff. Then I'll copy paste in my dialogue and move it and the sketches around till I have something that looks decent. I'll chop up each "page" and copy into my main comic making app and arrange them on the actual pages.

[An example of some thumbnails from the latest comic, right before I copied it into the main comic doc for cleaning. They're usually not even THIS detailed XD]

After that, I do a second rough, where they actually start to resemble themselves and I figure out things like where their limbs should go or add detail to their expressions (as well as note any kind of effects I will want to include in the finished panel.)

[A secondary rough from Chapter 5. I eventually made a (more simplistic than it looks) 3D model for Magolor's egg to help keep it relatively on model.]

Then comes adding in the panel borders and moving the secondary roughs around so they fit nicely. After that, I ink, though if my secondary roughs are unsatisfactory, I will bring in 3D models or references and draw them again before going back to inks.

I do it all in batches, by the way! Thumbnails for all ten~ish pages, roughs for all ten~ish pages, inks for all ten~ish pages. Because I'm still growing as an artist, if I finish one page before starting on the next, it's liable to look COMPLETELY different than the previous page! XD (Which I've had happen! Then I have to go back and redo the previous page so it looks more consistent, bleugh~...)

Sometime, early on in the inking, I will add in the balloons for the dialogue and arrange the text in them. I do this because :cough: sometimes I can use dialogue balloons to cover up anatomy I'm not that great at XD Then I add in the flat/base colors.

[Same page as before showing how I used balloons to cover un-inked areas. And also how I had to redraw Marx in the first panel to fix his proportions. Although I think his face was much cuter in the first draft XD ]

Then comes a really frenzied period where I do shading and panel FX and sound FX at the same time and it gets really messy and I'm still trying to find a way to clean up that process some ^^;

3) [TIME]

It's hard to be sure on a per page level since I jump back and forth between pages, but I spent a LOT of time fixing/adjusting things and trying to make sure things look as good as they possibly can. So a page will be "almost done" for a long time before I'm ready to say to myself, "Yeah, this is shareable!" Coming up with thumbnails that fit my idea for the script can be incredibly time intensive too!

[Here are the "complete" thumbnails for Chapter 5 Part 2]

As you can see, I actually began secondary roughs on this chapter BEFORE I had figured out what two of the last pages would even look like! I tried and just... couldn't come up with a good idea till the very end. Figuring out layouts has been really tricky and sometimes I'll flip open a variety of manga to see what they might do!

(And then I remember that manga layouts and whatnot are often highly differentiated by genre and MariPav is all over the place XD )

4) [DETAIL]

Here is the VERY FIRST drawing I ever drew of gijinka Marx and Magolor, when I was testing out what my mental image of them would look like. Everything was quite rough at this time. I hadn't figured out exactly what hairstyle I wanted Magolor to have and Marx's wings are more like attachments than arms. XD

But basically, because I drew them looking more like semi-realistically proportioned adults (figured it'd be easier to get suitable references that way) I decided to stick with that look through the story. That ended up demanding a certain level of bg/prop detail to look right and...it's one of the more frustrating parts. ^^;

It would have been a lot easier to start if I'd drawn them in a more cartoonish-anime style, like how Apologies started out, but I knew I had a few very serious and intense scenes that I thought might look laughable if Marx and Magolor were more marshmallowy looking ^^

Also, since Marionettes' Pavane is, when it comes down to it, a love story between two horrifically emotionally-stunted adults, past the point where innocent childhood mistakes are easily forgivable but without the inner peace, maturity, and knowledge to know how to NOT make these same mistakes over and over, I wanted their body types to reflect the fact that they are both fully grown. (Despite the immaturity they frequently CONSTANTLY display to each other.)

There are many stories about confused kids/young adults making mistakes and getting better. Not as many about adults, despite plenty of us being just as confused.

And I can just switch to a chibi-style if I need them to be small!

(Even Apologies has started to shift in and out of MariPav's pseudo anime-realism style, and I'll notice myself drawing tall, tanky anime boy Noir, even though his initial concept is short, underfed, underdeveloped, squishy-cartoon boy. You can see the reverse happen when I draw MariPav in a rush and Marsh and Magolor start to look more boyish and squishy. So, in short, don't do what I do and try to draw two different comics with two different artstyles at the same time XD)

5) [MONOCHROME TIPS]

I say go ahead and use color, and then throw a desaturation filter on that baby, if you can! Now, to ease this process, you might want to make test palette FIRST, draw your characters with their normal colors and then de-saturate that and save it for referencing later!

[I started out making a very nice palette for the two of them, only to accidentally delete it. I still needed one, so I made a second - and while I accidentally deleted THAT one too ^^; I swear, the "lineart" portion of it looked JUST like this. Just scribbles I would daub paint colors on. The key is that your palette reference doesn't have to look good, you just need to be able to sample from it!]

Now, you might notice not everything looks right when desaturated. That's a matter of values, etc! What you can do is take the monochromatic grays you've got and further adjust them from there so they look more like the gray versions of your original colors.

[NEW OUTFIT SPOILERS!!]

I had to do this with their new outfits too in fact!

I drew them up, worked rea~lly hard on getting their palettes the way I liked, then I desaturated them and Marx looked like a a big dark blob!! You want to be very sparing with including dark colors and blacks in your palette when doing monochromatic manga, because your panel borders, text, sfx, panel effects and your shading are going to be vying for access to those precious dark tones. And if EVERYTHING stands out... then NOTHING does!

So I manually adjusted the grays on both so that they would look better good and communicate the same light-to-dark information.

6) [CONSISTENCY]

Because I keep all of MariPav in one big document (split up by arcs) if I forget how something looks, I just page back to the last time I drew it ^^; That said, as hinted at above, I'm...not all that great at consistency myself. Either with artstyle OR tiny details.

"Do Magolor's gloves have trim on the ends or not?" "Do Marx's bangs curl inward or out?" "What the heck do his shoe laces look like again?" "How many grooves are in the back of Magolor's egg?" "Did you forget his work apron again?" "Hasn't Marx's collar grown in size since last time--"

COUGH COUGH COUGH

I hope to get better at consistency down the line, but the truth of the matter is I do most things in life completely frazzled and I just have to do what I can do in the time I have! Outside of having references for yourself (and I have two very slightly modified 3D models I use labeled for "Marx" and "Magolor" to help keep their shapes consistent-ish) drawing your characters a little bit every day will help!

Especially the every day (that you can) part. Let it go too long and you MAY misremember something you'd done, only to canonize it next time you draw them ^^; :remembers how I accidentally gave Hell Branch Magolor his other eye back and lost track of Hell Branch Blade's scarf:

And then sometimes I decide I maybe want to change something up because I just wasn't thinking of all sorts of better possibilities before and "la la la" it is this way now, just go with it~

7) [COMEDY & SPEECH]

I've been something of the family goofball since I was a kid, so I'm pretty used to comedy, especially hyper-dramatization comedy.

[This is a pretty good sample of the exaggerated way I talk in real life haha XD]

Some tips I've heard for "timing" is that the end of the page should be a moment that makes the reader want to turn to the next one to see what happens. Or be the conclusion of a story beat or joke. Either use it to build anticipation or let the reader rest.

Speaking of letting the reader rest, I read somewhere that the reason manga doesn't include backgrounds as much as western comics and web-comics is not that Japan hates backgrounds or anything...

It's the theory that the more information on a page, the more mental energy a reader spends taking it in! You don't want them to exhaust themselves looking at detailed backdrops unless the presence of the BG is also communicating something!

That's why so many manga will have those panels that have 3-4 speech bubbles laid over some generic screen tone. The artist isn't lazy, they're telling you "just relax and focus on the words!"

That's also how you preserve flow, by limiting the amount of visual information there is on any given page. It actually took me a while to learn that, and I sometimes regret that the original MariPav script is super wordy for a comic script.

(Because I wrote it first - before I'd done a deep dive study on the art of comic-crafting. That and I was more used to writing fanfic and original stories than comic scripts - which often need to be tightly trimmed. They also have a bunch of different storytelling devices you don't always expect. Like, most manga has WAY more internal dialogue and thoughts than MariPav has, which is written more like a stage play, being told entirely through back and forth dialogue.)

As a result, now, when I paste my dialogue in over my thumbnails, I'll often chop whole lines out or trim them down so they won't just eat up my page space. They say "kill your darlings" for a reason.

Lastly, I actually have a friend who works in comics, and I've pinged them a couple of times for advice on how to get my speech bubbles looking good. They've given me lots of advice, and not just on lettering! (They were the one who recommended using a kind of creeping, broken shadow instead of a plain flat shadow over Dedede's face + the tv static lines over DMS seen here too.)

[I credit their advice with the reason that first comic got so much positive attention. Tbh, it's those little touches that really make it!]

Some other advice they gave me was to make sure your text has plenty of room inside your balloons. You're trying to fit a square peg in a circular hole, after all! But again, sometimes I just place my bubbles in areas where they'll be most convenient for the art! XD

Anyway, I hope I did well answering your questions and providing insight. Of course, the biggest thing is that everything takes a combination of hours of practice and also... just some life experience.

I have been reading manga since I was 12, which nowadays makes it sound like I started LATE in life till you remember I'm 40 years old (and back then we had to walk two miles in the... we had to import untranslated single volumes from sketchy web sites with zero preview pics, based entirely on how interesting the title sounded) and in spite of my long history with the medium, I still found that I couldn't replicate the look of it it based on memory alone.

That's because there's a difference in taking in something for enjoyment and taking in some for study. What I've been having to do lately is STUDY manga - very intensely. I'm constantly having to look up "how to express frustration in manga" "manga sfx" "effective manga panelling" "crying, manga-style" to get things close!

(Of course, my years of reading and enjoying it helped in its own way too. After all, the stories I'm writing now are based on years of lived experience, in and out of fictional worlds and that stuff is KEY.)

But yes, get started on that comic of yours! Honestly, the best thing I did with MariPav was start drawing it. I knew I would have a long way to go to get it looking like it does in my head and it's still got a long way to go before it's there, but every page I make is getting me there.

#MariPav #Kirby #Gijinka #Magolor #Marx #Marx Kirby

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crimsonrae · 4 months ago

Text

Vexation

I have missed you all! It has been a minute since I've posted here, but I feel like Tumblr is the place to put this piece - for now. I haven't had much time recently to do as much writing as I would like, but I was perusing old outlines and ideas and stumbled upon one from ages ago for Pirates of the Caribbean. Suddenly, my muse woke up and I wrote close to twenty pages in three days.

Premise: Basically, this is a what-if for Captain Jack Sparrow. What if during the first three movies he had someone that vexed him. His version of a wife because he can't do anything normal.

The scene written below is set during Dead Man's Chest, after the Brethren Court convened. Be advised it's long.

I would like to know what you all think. I have four other scenes for this all waiting to be flushed out and would welcome any thoughts or critiques.

Mildly horrified and entirely exasperated, Jack wasn’t even sure grief could sink into his measly guts as he watched Teague tuck the shrunken head of his mother away. Mostly because he wasn’t even sure that was his mother and that his father hadn’t completely lost his marbles. He wouldn’t put it past his mother to have such a thing delivered to Teague if the two were on the outs again.

And people wondered why he was so mad, look at what he sprang from...Christ’s Blood.

It was almost like another Tuesday; this is what being back on the Cove did to him... No, that wasn’t quite right, this is what being near any of his family did to him.

Dull amusement began to seep in as the lingering implications of Teague carrying that head around began to settle.

Jack smiled as he gestured awkwardly to his father’s coat, “Not a bad way to startle the grandkids.”

Teague smirked as he quietly admitted, “Already have. Your woman only let me do it once to little Rosie. Done it a few to the boy - I think Rosie handled it better.”

Jack snorted unsurprised by his family antics. Rose more than likely took the shrunken head to be a new strange doll. Jonah was old enough to know better. He did wonder when Teague had made the time to stop in on them.

“They’re here. Up in the Alley.” Teague murmured lightly as if sensing his son’s thoughts, fingers strumming gently at his guitar.

“What!” A sharp flash of surprise lit Jack’s dark eyes before he masked it behind something that Teague couldn’t quite read. Worry if he had to guess and confirmed as Jack quietly growled, “You brought ‘em here?”

Teague bit back a sigh as he gave his son a pointed look, “Wasn’t intending on it... Honestly, still puzzlin’ out how Quinn talked me into their passage aboard. I had told her no.”

“She likely just ignored you.” It's what she did when they had been children. Jack rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath about devious strumpets. He felt sick. They weren’t to be here; he never would have made that deal with Beckett otherwise.

He needed to see to preparations for his ship before Barbossa got too far in his ego thinking he was captain of the Pearl again, but he would make time to see his children and he had a bone to pick with his woman. His hearted lifted a bit...she was here.

It was only as he lurched away from his father that Teague called out to him, “Go easy on her, Jackie. She’s been through the gamut.”

Jack nearly scoffed.

He hadn’t?

He had been swallowed by a bloody gigantic cephalopod and trapped in Davy’s Locker with stony crabs and far – far too much time with his thoughts. Besides he didn’t bloody remember her being present to save him.

Admittedly, Jack knew that last uncharitable thought was unfair – he would not have been happy to see her in the Locker. Not when they had their two little treasures to protect, and he was well aware that the onus of that responsibility fell to her.

Which was why he wasn’t terribly happy on her being here now.

Despite being a fortress, Shipwreck Cove, the city, and its inhabitants would be raided should the Pirate Lords fail in their endeavor to stop Beckett and Jones. It was the last place he wanted Quinn and the children to be.

It was with clear intent and purpose that Jack made his way back to the Pearl. Gibbs and Marty would have a head for what was already on board, and they would have to make do with what supplies they could get in the city. Jack could only hope that word had spread already of what was afoot and that the shopkeepers would keep any wily haggling to a minimum – of course, a few would see the coming battle as a golden opportunity to gouge their prices.

Barbossa was already issuing orders when Jack stepped aboard, but he paid his former first mate and current rival little mind. The brunt of the crew was paying him more attention anyway as he asked a few carefully plotted questions before heading to his cabin for parchment and quill. Barbossa hadn’t spent near as much time on the Cove as Jack had... none of his crew had really, but there were a couple that were familiar with the city’s workings. It would have to be enough.

Jack tagged a few more orders onto Barbossa’s before snagging a handful of the crew to head into the city. A list of merchants and an inventory of necessities in hand, he passed instructions onto his little group and watched as they dispersed to follow orders. They would be back on ship by the time he was done with his own errands.

-----

He was stepping out of Doc Nessa’s shop when he felt the familiar glance of a small body skimming his hip. He didn’t even think as his fingers grasped the back of a well-loved shirt and tugged the body inside around. A pair of familiar dark eyes far too intelligent to belong to a child, but in fact did, regarded him.

A wild thrill of amusement coursed through his gut, though Jack was careful not to show it as he returned his son’s indifferent regard, “Need to be quicker than that, lad. Hand it over.”

Jonah scowled as he held out his father’s compass. Well, a compass. One that Jack had pilfered from Barbossa.

Jack took it with gentle care before he arched a brow, “The rest?”

Jonah slumped and pulled a coin purse and a ring from his pockets.

Jack blinked in surprise at the ring before casting a glance to his right hand where indeed one of his rings was missing. He hadn’t even noticed that one, that was impressive.

In return Jack held up a French silver medallion and grinned as Jonah blanched and checked his pockets.

Jonah reached out to snag it, but Jack yanked it back, “Da!”

“Pay attention to your possessions next time, eh?” Jack said as he tucked the medallion in his pocket, “Want it back? Best figure out a way to get it. Savvy?”

A churlish pout curled his boy’s mouth, but he nodded before mumbling a quiet, “Savvy.”

“Good lad.” Jack murmured before he crouched down, “Now come ‘ere and give your old man a proper greetin’.”

Jonah hesitated much to Jack’s consternation. He had never known his boy to be leery with him and he didn’t care for it starting now. He refused to have the same relationship with his son that he had with Teague. As if summoned from the depths, Teague’s words about Quinn having a difficult time came floating back to him... What had gone on in his absence?

He didn’t have time to ask before he had his arms filled with a seven-year-old. He relaxed and wrapped a tight arm around his boy as he felt Jonah turn into a limpet. That was more like it.

Grinning, he pressed a kiss to Jonah’s ear as he murmured, “Missed ya, lil’ scallywag. You causin’ trouble for your mother?”

“Aye.” Jonah answered against Jack’s chest.

“You watchin’ out for your sister?”

“Aye.”

“Rosie tormentin’ you?”

“Aye.”

“You been getting revenge on her?”

There was a pause before Jonah uttered, “No.”

Jack nearly snorted in disbelief, but quite seriously asked, “And why not?”

“Mum would tan me hide.” Jonah stated as if it were obvious. He wasn’t dumb enough to admit to any wrongdoing he hadn't been caught at – especially not to his parents.

Jack chuckled and gently pushed his son to stand back, “Depends on what you did and if you get caught. ‘Sides you probably deserve a good tanning every once in a while.”

“Daaaa.” Jonah whined, making Jack snicker further before he was attacked by another small body.

He leaned sideways and he grunted under the sudden impact, but the lilting giggle gave away his accoster long before he caught sight of her face. This was another one that could use a tanning or two.

“Oi! Careful, darlin’. You gonna break this old man.” Jack cried as he lifted Rose to perch on his hip. He couldn’t stay crouched any longer, “Miss me?”

“Aye.” Rose chirped as she grinned widely at her father.

Jack’s heart melted under that smile and damn if his little girl didn’t know the power that she had over him. Just like her mother. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before she snuggled further into his hold.

Seven bells rang in the distance, and he suddenly realized the hour. It was a bit late for his two wildings to be running amuck. Yet as he peered down the alley Rosie had flown from he saw the familiar shape of Quinn’s guard lingering.

Poor blighter must have been put on watch.

“Why are you two not with your mother?”

“Mummy said youse be here and um- we wanted to find you, but we – uh – we made new friends and we’s got to playin’.” Rosie explained excitedly, “And then Morris came to get us and then Jony disappeared, and we’ve been lookin’ for ‘im.”

“Is that so?” Jack murmured as he sent a speculative glanced to his son.

Jonah stared unperturbed back at him, and Jack was reminded that this was very much his son. Stubborn and underhanded.

As if to reinforce Rose’s words a faint cry from the opposite street caught the children’s attention. A few of the wharf rats were lingering and Jack took them to be the new friends. Jonah had a longing glint in his eye, and he sighed reluctantly, “Back to the quarters by first bell or I’ll put you over me knee meself, savvy?”

Jonah didn’t wait and went skittering off before Jack had a chance to change his mind, “Savvy!”

“I wanna go too!” Rosie cried, wriggling to get out of father’s hold.

Jack held tight, “Ah, ah, no. I don’t think so, luv. You are gonna keep your old man safe as he goes and finds your mum.”

“Nooo!” Rosie howled.

“No?” Jack cried back, nodding to Morris as he passed him in the alley, “No? So, you want your dear dad to be savagely attacked? How cruel you be, little Rose. However, will I be able to find your fair mother all be me onesies, I wonder. Be a good lass and help your da out, eh?”

His attempt at guilt did little to persuade the five-year-old as she stared at him mutinously. She was developing a fine glare to stop a man cold. It was obvious that Rosie had been spending far too much time with her mother. He barely dodged her little hands as she reached to pull his chin braids. Jack had almost forgotten that she needed no instruction to fight dirty.

And it was a fight...all the way back to the quarters which only ended as he began to regale her with stories from the past. He pitied any man who dared to woo his daughter once she was older.

It was a thought that vanished as he swept into the old family quarters only to find Quinn nowhere in sight. It was odd to suddenly be standing in a place that he had done everything he could to run away from – an all too familiar unease began to twist in his gut, and he had to bite his tongue to not become lost to ghosts that still haunted him. He tilted his head down the hall and saw a barely perceptible glow emanating from the slap shod parceling of lumber that was to act as a staircase.

Jack nearly groaned. She was in Grandmama’s old quarters... Quinn was trying to punish him.

Lovely.

“Daddy?” Rosie cried softly as she watched her father’s countenance turn sour. Childish worry peered at him through eyes that were so like his.

Jack forced a small smile to his lips before he tapped her nose, “Let’s get you to bed, eh? You’ll need your energy to go torment your brother come mornin.”

Surprisingly, Rosie merely pouted a little at the bid for bed. Either she was more tired than she wanted to admit, or she still sensed the poor mood possessing her father. Jack didn’t want to explore either option, but he would take the opportunity her current submissiveness was giving him.

----

He dawdled.

He would never admit it, but he loitered in his old bedroom watching his daughter curl around a pillow as she fell into an easy slumber. He itched with the desire to haul her out and bring her to his cabin on the Pearl. Too many memories haunted this decrepit place and only a handful were counted as anything happy or good. He wanted none of it to touch his children.

Jack couldn’t understand why he was here – Why Quinn had chosen to come back here. Even if it was to check in on him. She held as little love for this place as he did... less in some regards. But he wouldn’t get any answers by hiding away.

He came out just as Jonah crept through the front door. Jack arched a brow as he heard first bell in the distance, “Cuttin’ it close, lad.”

Jonah fidgeted under his father’s stare before uttering, “Still ‘afore the bell.”

“Aye, so you were.” Jack hummed and nodded to him to get to the bed with his sister, “Go on. To bed wit ya. Don’t let me catch you out of it.”

“Da?”

Jonah called as Jack ambled towards the stairs. He turned to find a churlish frown pinching his boy’s features.

Jonah swallowed tightly as he stuttered out, “Ar- are you leavin’ us again?”

Again.

The quiet resignation in his son’s voice fair broke Jack’s heart, but he was unsurprised by it. In a perfect world he would keep his family aboard the Pearl with him. In a perfect world he wouldn’t miss months of his children’s lives. But a pirate ship was no place for a child and Jack had been a pirate for too long to stop now.... The world wasn’t perfect, and reality was a far more painful place as his son was beginning to learn. Jack just wished he wasn’t the one teaching that lesson already.

He crouched down before Jonah again, this time tilting his boy’s chin up as he answered honestly – because his son deserved honesty, “Aye. I am, but I hope to be with you again soon.”

“I don’t want you to go.” A suspicious sheen had come to decorate Jonah’s dark eyes. A wobble to his lips.

It dawned on Jack then that Jonah must have just heard about the coming battle. Word had been slower than he had anticipated reaching the shops, but it would have spread through the city fully by now and his boy wasn’t stupid enough not to listen.

Jack winced as he murmured soothingly, “Now none of that, lad.”

“Please.” Jonah choked out, unable to hold back his tears. He was suddenly folded into his father’s embrace as he broke into a sob. Rum, sea salt, and gunpowder invaded the little boy’s senses – it was a unique combination of scents that he would forever associate with his father. It was home and it was safe, and he lost it every time his father disappeared to the sea.

Jonah burrowed into him in a way that made Jack think he was trying to hide in his pocket. Jack closed his eyes sadly and tightened his hold as he let his boy cry it out, “Wants and needs, Jony. Very rarely do those two ever line up. I would love nothing more than to keep you and your sister and your mother with me always, but it's just not possible. So, we must steal what time we can with each other and not give any of it back.”

Jonah sniffled, “Be a pirate.”

“Aye.” Jack murmured, “Be a pirate.”

They sat together soaking in what comfort they could before Jonah pushed back and wiped at his nose. His eyes were swollen still with his tears, and it hurt something deep in Jack to watch his son try and be brave. He was too young for that skill yet.

A glint of silver caught his eye, and Jonah gave a watery smile as he held up his medallion, freshly stolen back into his care.

Jack huffed a faint laugh, “Well done, lad. I’ll make a pirate out of you yet. Or at the very least, a very competent thief.”

Ruddy cheeks still damp were softly soothed by Jack’s rough hands before he prodded Jonah to the bedroom his sister was in, “Go on. Give your face a wash and get to bed.”

Jack stood in the doorway as he watched Jonah reluctantly follow his orders. The dry sink holding the washing bowl made his boy seem incredibly small and too grown all at once. He made a mess of washing his face, but it was more of a cover to hide fresh tears and soft hitched breaths.

Jack pretended not to notice, no sense in embarrassing the boy. Finally, he shucked his clothes and grabbed a large shirt Quinn had left out. Jack recognized it as an old one of his and that brought on an entire new swell of bittersweet emotion to drown his heart.

It was only as Jonah began to settle next to his sister that Jack meander back to tuck him in. He smiled faintly under his son’s doleful gaze before giving into the temptation to press a kiss to his temple, “Sleep, lad. Tomorrow’s a new day with new adventures.”

“Take what you can.” Jonah whispered.

“And give nothin’ back.” Jack whispered back solemnly. He gave a light squeeze to his boy’s shoulder in silent good night.

-----

A heavenly sight greeted Jack when he finally made his way upstairs. The bare expanse of Quinn’s back was on display as her shift hung loosely around her waist. His gaze drifted up from her shapely legs to the delicious curve of her bottom over the dark lines that inked her spine to the thin wispy curls that had found freedom from the mishappened updo she had imprisoned the rest of her mane in. Steam rose from the tub residing beside her and for a moment Jack quite forgot his irritation with her.

For a moment, anyway. The tense set of her shoulders was his first clue that he wasn’t the only one out of sorts.

“Now, there’s a sight for sore eyes.” Jack murmured as he leaned against the doorframe. Her lukewarm welcome was his second clue.

Green eyes peeked over a slim shoulder at him as Quinn place a bottle of some concoction down, “Wondered if you’d actually come up here.”

Jack wasn’t sure if here was the quarters or Grandmama’s room in specific and he didn’t care to ask. He ignored the subtle prompting in her comment with a gesture that said, ‘well, here he stood’. It didn’t surprise him when Quinn rolled her eyes and turned back to her ablutions.

“Are the children sorted?”

“Aye.” Jack answered with a frown. He hated talking to her back – even if it was a glorious view. It made it a mite difficult to ascertain what was going on in her head, “As you well know. Surprised you didn’t step in while Jony was cryin’.”

“He needed you, not me.” She said with a slight shrug, but he felt the truth in her words. Jonah had wanted his papa. There be no denying that.

“Shall I wash your back, luv? Get those hard-to-reach places.” Jack offered as he sauntered closer, “Nice and squeaky clean, eh?”

Quinn snorted, “Your dirty hands are not to touch me, Jack. When was the last time you had a washin’, you filthy pirate?”

Jack paused, slightly offended and unwillingly amused as he pondered that query. He didn’t think that he as that dirty – he had definitely been worse, “I took a dip not too long ago, I’ll have you know.”

Surely hanging upside down in the ocean counted.

“You can take another now. Waters for you. I’ve already bathed.” Quinn said, her hands moving to pull up her shift when his came to stop her.

“Now don’t do that, luv.” Jack whispered against her ear as he pressed against her. He bit back a smile as he felt a faint shudder wrack her body, “I’m quite enjoyin’ you half dressed. Course it’d be even better if you were completely undressed.”

“Jack...”

His lips brushed over the curve of her neck as his hands slid over her hips to hold her more firmly...except, there was more of her than he expected. Jack paused as his grip flexed over the small swell of her belly. Only just slightly bigger than a bump. His heart leapt into his throat in realization before his dark gaze snapped up to find her watching him warily.

“Thought I told you not to touch me with those dirty hands.” Quinn rasped, trying for a light – indifferent tone and failing.

“I’ll touch you however much I want, woman.” Jack said thickly, “Is that why you came here? To tell me?”

“Thought you should know... You’ll have one more to be comin’ back to.” She mumbled, “You need to stop gettin’ me with child.”

Jack grinned, fierce joy and pride batting back his outright terror for the moment, “Whatever for? I quite enjoy gettin’ you fat with my child.”

He grunted a moment later as her elbow collided with his side and she growled calmly, “Fat? I’ll show you fat, Jack Sparrow.”

Despite the playful glint in her eye, Jack chuckling, quickly grasped both her wrists before she could do something decidedly unpleasant to his person. Now, he understood why Teague had let her come. A pregnant Quinn was an impossible Quinn to reason with, “Come ‘ere.”

He tugged her around and stole the kiss he had been angling for since he had stepped inside. It felt good to have her with him again. It was downright beautiful actually. There had been a few dark moments when he wondered if he’d make it back to her and the kids. And he had – they were here.

At least for the moment and he’d take it.

He’d steal this time like he had told Jonah to do.

Jack broke the kiss, reveling in her mewl of protest as he leant his head against hers, “Another one, eh?”

“Aye.” Quinn murmured back, “You upset?”

“Have I ever been upset over being made a father?” He asked blithely, “Or given you cause to think I’d be?”

“Jack...” She sighed, “It’s different this time and you know it.”

Tendrils of the terror he had been pushing back were starting to grasp, but he refuse to let it hold. The memory of her last pregnancy was clearer than air for him. The babe they had lost - How he had nearly lost her as well... Damn her for alluding to it. His hold on her tightened almost imperceptibly.

Jack shrugged, pressing his lips to her crown, “So, we’re a little older – a little more damaged, a little more weary. Still wouldn’t change a thing.” He pushed back and nudged her to do the same as he did a quick calculation in his head, “Let’s have a look at ya. Be about five months, that right?”

Quinn hesitated, making Jack frown. She had never been shy with him before and he didn’t understand her reluctance now. Jonah had done the same. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something until his appraising gaze found the crest of her bosom or more specifically the top of her left breast and what should have resided there.

His mark...

“What’s this?” He breathed.

The dark lines of the sparrow over the horizon that normally decorated her skin had faded. It wasn’t the type of blanching that would come from the sun, but it was as if the ink had eroded to a thin sketch. His fingers traced the mark bewildered before he yanked the sleeve of his shirt up to view his matching bird.

It had burned something fierce while he had been in the Locker. A hallucination. Or at least... Had that pain been real? He had thought - taken it to mean really that his soul saying he was too far from his other half... but now?

It had changed.

The dull bluish black lines had become more a sickly grey. He hadn’t noticed...it’d had stop hurting once he had left the Locker and he had all but put the odd experience from his mind.

It was then Jack truly took stock of his woman. Faint circles lined her usually lively emerald eyes, her cheeks a little hollower than he would like... She was pale. Sallow really. Despite that he knew for a fact, that she tended to spend a fair bit of time out in the sun.

“It may not have been just the babe that brought me here. I guess that bonding ceremony we did wasn’t as much of a lark as we thought.” Quinn uttered quietly. She bit her lip and stepped away as she pulled her shift into place, “Get your bath. I wanna check on the little ones.”

Jack watched her go with gaping worry.

Go easy on her, Jackie. She’s been through the gamut.

What the blood hell had happened in his absence?

-----

Quinn was mildly astonished to see that Jack had followed her decree to bathe when she returned to the room. Of course, he was already reaching for a towel...

She hadn’t been gone more than a few minutes, “You’ve only made the dirt on you muddy, at least scrape it off.”

“You want me clean, luv, you best get over here and give me a hand.” Jack grumbled as he sent her a sly glance, “Get those hard-to-reach places.”

Quinn scoffed at him, “For someone who loves bein’ on the water, you have a peculiar resistance to gettin’ in it.”

“It’s not the same though is it.” Jack replied as he washed his arms a bit better. He wanted to see the full extent of the change to his mark, “Of course, there be a list of interestin’ questions you’d be good to answer if you want me to sit in this water longer.”

“I have a feelin’ I’ll be answerin’ those questions regardless.” She muttered, but she snagged a washrag and poked him to sit forward so she could sit on the lip of the tub behind him, her dainty feet brushed his hips. It wouldn’t be too much longer before her belly would make such a feat impossible.

Jack fairly purred as she worked the rag across his back, lightly massaging as she went, “Aye, you would...What’s happened, Quinn?”

“Let’s see... You left.” She supplied unhelpfully, but she sensed his unimpressed glare long before he opened his mouth, “I had business in New Orleans – its changed since we’ve last been. Kids caught the measles. That was a miserable few weeks. I missed two of my courses before realizin’ I was increasin’. Oh, and then suddenly, I was struck by the most debilitatin’ pain – bit like takin’ a hot poker to the chest I reckon. Scared poor Jonah half to death with the way I screamed, ended up passin’ out thankfully, but I was sure I had lost the babe. Bloody miracle, I hadn’t. That was when I received word of your demise and then Teague stopped by on his way to here and I figure it best to hear what was goin’ on.”

Jack hummed as he was once again dropped into a pool of horrified and exasperated. Only Quinn could utter all of that like was the most casual thing in the world. Just afternoon tea, really. It should have clued him in really. That sort of passivity from her only meant that she was brimming with fire beneath the surface.

It didn’t for his ire with her was definitely rearing its head once more. He didn’t even know where to begin with all of that, so he waspishly muttered, “Oh is that all? Just another bloody Tuesday, is it?”

“It’s Wednesday actually.”

“Quinn.” Jack rebuked, losing his patience.

He needed to see her.

He twisted, grabbing her wrist, and yanked her around so suddenly that water sloshed out of the tub. She fell haphazardly into his lap. Her shift was soaked within seconds.

“Oh!” She growled, livid.

She became even more so when she caught his agitation with her. As far as she was concerned, he didn’t have the bloody right. It was as if a bubble had burst within her. Everything that she had kept bottled up for last half year came flowing out at him.

The tub wasn’t big enough to accommodate two people, but she somehow maneuvered herself to straddle him before she began raining blows, “You are –Such -A – Bastard!”

“Ow! Woman!” Jack wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he would rather endure this rage from her than the barbed flippancy she had been spewing behind his head. Though the way she was wriggling in his lap wasn’t helping matters on another end. A particularly hard blow to his stomach had him restraining her wrists again as they both labored for breath.

Quinn glared at him, hot tears stinging her eyes as she wrathfully muttered, “You died! You died! You -”

And there was the heart of the matter... at least for her. The anguish in her emerald eyes startled Jack. It had been a long time since he had seen her this upset. A rush of guilt tore through him like a riptide and she saw it too.

She tried to yank her hands free to strike him again, but Jack held firm, “I know, luv, I know. But I’m here now. I’m back.”

“Oh, codswallop!” Quinn swore a blue streak, “You’re here? For how long? Or are you not chargin’ out into that bloody massacre that’s set for tomorrow? Shall I plan the eulogy now?”

Jack’s face darkened and it took some not inconsiderable control for him not lash out the way he wanted to – they had both been through hell. He could recognize that, even with the bare bones accounting that Quinn had given him. Like the sun rose in the east, he knew that she hadn’t told him everything. He also knew he had scared her and if the tables had been turned, he would be just as furious.

Lord, he didn’t want to fight with her. He really didn’t, but a thought had occurred that he wanted answered, “Quinn - Quinn, stop wrigglin’!”

She didn’t and he muttered a quick oath before he shifted his grasp on both her wrists to one hand before he delved his other between their bodies.

Quinn jerked in shock as his fingers grazed over her slit, searching for evidence of arousal as much as desiring a way of stilling her. She didn’t even notice when he let her go, only that she was suddenly bracing herself on his shoulders as he caught her startled gaze and a sank a finger into her.

She emitted a strangled, “Jack!”

“Told you to stop wrigglin’.” Jack murmured smugly as he tried not to lose the thread of thought he had been chasing before he decided it’d be a good idea to reexplore tempting territory to get her attention. Throwing her down and ravishing her was fast becoming an overwhelming desire – especially as she made no attempt to stand up and leave. Maybe they needed to fuck this one out, “Now, before you resume abusin’ my person, luv, do us a favor and tell me... when you made the fundamentally stupid decision to come back to the Cove -”

Her nails dug into his shoulder, and he hissed before adding another finger to his play, “That’s not nice, luv... When you made the decision, did you know I was alive?”

Quinn frowned at him, wondering why this was so important. Of all the things that she had said to him this was the last line of inquiry she had expected... and really wasn’t that just like him.

Impatience seemed to get the best of him again at her prolonged silence as he very purposefully curled his fingers inside of her. Quinn suppressed a moan as he grazed that spot that brought such exquisite pleasure. A mordant liquid began to seep to her loins, “...Yes.”

“Sorry, was that yes to my question or are you beggin’ me for more, darlin’?” Jack asked grinning wickedly. She swore at him which only made him giddy, “Pirate.”

“Jack, I can’t focus when you’re doin’ that.” She said, trying to tug his arm up, but he didn’t budge.

“Good, I don’t want you focusin’ too hard.” He murmured back, quite forgetting what he was about as he leaned in and nipped at the skin exposed by her collar. The faded lines of his mark glared up at him. That would be fixed... Had to be.

“Yes.” Quinn said, “Yes, to your question.”

“How did you know?”

“Your bloody mark.” Quinn murmured, “It stopped feeling like it was going to burn me from the inside out.”

Jack went silent. A deep frown marring his features and she could only wait for him to verbalize his thoughts. He fell back, allowing her the freedom to get up if she so chose. She didn’t.

“Not as much of a lark, eh?” Jack finally said, but there was no hiding the anguish behind his words.

Just a bunch of words that ceremony. Neither of them had been keen on a proper marriage but their own promises? A blood pact that was meant to twine their souls? That added a touch of mystery, and romance, and fun – well that had been right up their alley, now hadn’t it.

What bloody fools they had been...

Quinn found that she unwillingly softened in the face of his horror, and she sighed, “I think the babe is what kept me from joinin’ you... wherever you were.”

Jack peered at her quizzically, not following her line of thought.

“A bit of you is in me, isn’t it? It’s how we’re creatin’ this little life.” Quinn whispered, not willing to tell him that she also suspected that was why she had been in such horrible pain. The bond didn’t know where to pull her too – so it tore at her, “An entwining of essences to be forever one.”

Jack swallowed as she recited the words from the ceremony, “Doesn’t sound quite as sensual anymore, does it?”

“No...” Quinn agreed, it sounded downright terrifying now. She drew a fortifying breath, “How long? How long before you have to go?”

“We’re to leave at daybreak.”

“Right.” Jack froze as she leveled a cold glare on him that made his heart cringe in anticipation of her wrath, “Don’t you dare die on me again, Jack Sparrow.”

She swiftly removed herself from the tub before he could respond. Her back to him once more as she hid a rush of tears. She shed her wet shift with little care as he murmured, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Quinnie.”

Though she was better at hiding her tears than their son, Jack still noticed, and he wasn’t about to pretend he hadn’t otherwise.

The sloshing of water was her only warning before he was on her. His fingers grasped her elbow and spun her around before she could think. Her mouth found his first. Harsh, angry, biting as she unleased her distress upon him and... claimed him. Jack took it all, silently relishing in the rare show of possessiveness from her. Anything to make her tears stop. He couldn’t stand her crying for him, never could.

His arms became bands around her waist as he pulled her tight. For the first time in months the world seemed to still and feel right. A strange peace fell over them both. Their kiss broke when the need for air became too great, but that didn’t stop her from nuzzling into him, trailing biting kisses along his jaw as he walked them back to the bed.

Jack hummed as her attentions fell to his neck and he realized she was truly laying claim to him with a mark of her own, “You’re not normally one for love bites, what’s brought this on?”

“Just a reminder.” Quinn murmured as she let him push her onto the mattress. Her hands traced the panes of his body as if she was trying to commit it to memory.

Jack crawled over her, nipping her lip, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Reminder? It’s unlikely I’ll be attractin’ a strumpet to me tomorrow for you to chase off with a reminder.”

“Reminder’s for you.” Quinn said drolly even as she spread her legs for him. She wanted him close – needed it really and he was moving too slow when they had only a few hours before he’d leave again...

“Woman, you’re not makin’ a lick of sense.” Jack stated stoutly, firmly ignoring her overtures for a quick fuck.

This wasn’t Tortuga and he wasn’t taking her against an alley wall. Though... A faint smile tugged at his lips at the few good memories they had against said walls. He wanted to see her. He took in the fullness of her breasts and smoothed his palms lovingly over her growing belly. He had always been fascinated by the change pregnancy wrought on her body.

Quinn tugged on the end of one of his dreads as he leaned down to place a kiss to her stomach, “It’s just to make you think twice before you do something incredibly stupid – Like become so distracted by a kiss as to get yourself shackled to a ship and then killed.”

Jack reared up to find Quinn staring at him with an indifference that scared him more than her anger, “I haven’t the foggiest of what you’re on about.”

“Mmhmm.”

He couldn't stop himself from playing with fire though, “But if I did... How much groveling would one have to do to be forgiven for such an infraction? Pray tell.”

Quinn was silently amused as she watched him try to puzzle out how much trouble he was in exactly – Never mind that he had her completely naked and willing at the moment, “Alot, more if I have to throw myself at you to get any kind of satisfaction tonight. You’re doin’ a very poor job of making me feel desirous right now.”

Jack had the gall to look affronted at her critique, “I’ve been harder than a bloody hammer since I’ve stepped into this room, luv. Let’s not pretend you don’t know the effect your utterly delectable and sinful body has on my person or that you intentionally kept yourself half-dressed to lull me into forgetting’ where exactly we are right now. Which well-played by the way.”

“I haven’t the foggiest of what you’re on about.” Quinn uttered back at him, shrieking with laughter a moment later as he pounced on her. Her laughter was dissolved by a rather thorough kiss that left her with no doubts of Jack’s desire for her.

A slow heat swept through her as she fell into his touch. The familiarity of him was a comfort that she had been lacking for too long. His scent, his strength, his warmth surrounded her, and she basked in it, just as Jack basked in her. He was almost... reverential. As if he was not entirely sure that she was real as he took his time rediscovering her body.

Calloused fingers hooked under her knee and pulled her wider as he entered her...slowly... so slowly. As if he were afraid of her hurting her. To be fair, her muscles strained a bit from being split, but it was a welcome discomfort that disappeared with the relief of being fulfilled.

Quinn emitted a pleased sigh as he bottomed out and Jack moaned, enjoying the way her lurid cavern suckled him so sweetly.

His lips danced over hers in a gossamer caress as he watched her, “Alright?”

“Hmmm.” Quinn hummed contently. She drew a finger across his cheek, marveling at his gentleness for not the first time, “I missed you.”

Jack smiled warmly at her, as his arms came to rest on either side of her head. He stole a true kiss then, “And I, you, luv.”

“Then you should ravish me, Pirate.” She teased, arching against him in silent demand.

“Aye. I should.” Jack chuckled as he began to thrust languidly.

He was intent on drawing their union out for a multitude of reasons. A petty one being that he knew it would drive her mad and he was still stinging over where their fortuitous reunion was occurring. More significantly, Quinn had successfully lit the fuse on every one of his concern canons with her wan appearance and he didn’t trust her to tell him if she was feeling unwell. Stubborn bint that she was.

Amusedly, he could practically feel Quinn’s frustration build as she shifted, matching his movement, but also trying to get enough purchase to change the pace to something faster.

“Jack!”

He shook with laughter but stilled – knowing she had reached the limit of his teasing, “I should have gotten you off before playin’, luv. I’m sorry. I’d forgotten how insatiable this state makes you.”

“Insufferable.” She grumbled, pinching his side as he reached for a pillow to put under her hips. He jumped, swatting lightly at her as he resituated them, “You’re treating me like I’m made of glass.”

Jack realized then that Quinn didn’t know how fragile she looked to him, like a good gust of wind would knock her down. He sighed and rubbed a soothing trail up her thigh as he murmured, “I haven’t been around to take care of you, Quinnie. Your body’s no longer used to it. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you winced when I breeched you or the way you tensed when I was touchin’ that fair chest of yours. You’re tender, ain’t ya?”

“Only a little.” Quinn sulked, “I can handle more, luv.”

Jack arched a brow at her.

“I’m not gonna break. Promise. Please” She wheedled, reaching for him, “You know I don’t say please often.”

There was a long moment of silence as he studied her before suddenly, he bucked. It was heavenly, just the right amount of friction they both needed. Jack stifled a groan, but Quinn hadn’t been prepared and failed to hide another wince as a twang of discomfort rippled with the pleasure he brought to her body.

“You gonna follow my lead now?” Jack demanded.

“Is your lead gonna go any faster?”

“Woman...” Jack swore, shaking his head, “You are -”

“Yours?” Quinn smiled cheekily and Jack couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aye, that you are.” Despite being charmed, he didn’t give into her whims. If they had time for another round he would, but for now she’d have to deal with slow and gentle. He sure as hell was... not that it was much of a trial.

Her faint moans and whispered mewls were music to his ears after coming uncomfortably close to not being able to hear this ever again. No, he had no problem taking his time to swim her depths.

-----

Jack fell next to her sweaty and sated as Quinn labor for breath next to him. She lazily squeezed his arm as she murmured, “Alright... I’ll be more willin’ to follow your lead next time.”

Jack grinned smugly, pulling her against his chest as he recovered from their crush of bliss, “Feel like I’ve heard that ‘afore, luv.”

Quinn suppressed a smile and entangled their legs as he drew circles over her belly with curious fingers. A wistful grimace painted his vintage that Quinn understood all too clearly... It was different his time around, whether Jack wanted to admit it aloud or not. She placed her hand over his, catching his weary regard.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He murmured after a moment, gaze drifting to her mark. It may have been a trick of the light, but the lines seemed to have thickened – at least a tad. It pained him to think he may have almost caused her demise.

“No, you’re not.” She arched a knowing brow at him.

“No, I am not.” Jack agreed dryly, aware she thought he was speaking about being back in the Cove. And aye, that he was not pleased with, “You’re incredibly lucky to be with child right now or else I’d have you over my knee for comin’ back to this hell hole– especially now, luv.”

Quinn’s emerald eyes glimmered dangerously at the threat as she murmured, “Liked to see you try.”

“I’ve done it before, haven’t I? Don’t tempt me.”

It was how unusually serious he was as he uttered those words that let Quinn know how upset she had made him. Coming back to the Cove had never been on her agenda and she wouldn’t have if every bone in her body hadn’t been screaming at her to return. She had learned to trust her instincts ages ago.

She forced a bland retort, “Hardly think it counts when it's just a lead up to more pleasurable pursuits.”

Jack sent her a warning look but took the opportunity their turn in mood presented to address the elephant neither wanted to acknowledge, “Should the worst happen tomorrow, I want you to find Teague. Grab the children and go with him. Shipwreck Island won’t be safe. As Keeper of the Code, he’ll be the last to depart which will make him the quickest to get back here.”

A spark of undo terror tightened Quinn’s throat and she withdrew her hand from his as she protested, “Don’t. Don’t talk like this -”

“I want you to go with him to Madagascar. You'll be safe there.” Jack pressed, otherwise he’d never get the words out.

Dropping an explosive would have been a kinder shock. Her eyes widened in quiet outrage, “Mada - you want me to go to your family? Jack, there’s a reason you don’t visit them.”

“Aye! They’re barmy and insufferable, but harmless for the most part. - Well, now that Grandmama is dead, they’re mostly harmless. You're more than capable of handlin’ Quick Draw and her ilk. The house in Madagascar is nye impossible to get to unless you’ve been before. Beckett has a grudge against me, and you know it. Should he discover I have a family...” Jack shuddered, refusing to travel down that rabbit hole. He was one of the few who knew just what a cruel and cold bastard Beckett to be, “Promise me, you’ll go.”

“...” Quinn bit her tongue, feeling positively sick from what he was demanding of her.

“Promise me, Quinn.”

She glowered at him, scowling faintly as she said, “I will always do what needs to be done to keep our children safe, you know this.”

He did, he did know that “I’m not just worried about our children now, am I? Promise me.”

A strangled note of desperation burst free on that last command and Quinn felt her ire quite blown out to sea at the sound of it. Jack wasn’t playing fair.

She swallowed tightly before she whispered, “...I promise to find Teague.”

Jack didn’t miss the way she had worded that oath. She’d find him, didn’t necessarily mean she’d go with him. He cursed quietly but acknowledge it was probably the best he would get from her, “Thank you.”

“...Jack?” Quinn breathed, letting her worry come to the surface as she made her own demand, “Come back to me. Just come back.”

She didn’t care when he did it or how’ just as long as he came back.

Jack softened in the face of her concern. Cupping her cheek, he placed as much flippant bravado in his words as possible, “I’ve defied death once and come back to you – think I won’t do it again?”

His cockiness did the trick of making her relax and roll her eyes at him, “I swear by all that’s holy, if you say that you’re Captain Jack Sparrow and that’s why it won’t happen again, you can go sleep on your bloody ship.”

“Well, I am...” Jack murmured.

He knew she didn’t buy it when he acted like this, she was one of the few people in the world that could remind him that he wasn’t as indestructible as he liked to pretend.

“I think you wouldn’t have had to do it once if you hadn’t been so stupid...” Quinn intoned, leaning into his touch before lightly continuing, “And then you followed up that stupid by making it the Pirate King with your vote and now you’re goin’ to battle.”

Jack’s mouth moved soundlessly for a moment before he uttered, “You are...annoyingly well informed.”

Quinn shrugged, “I was in the room when the vote happened. Not my fault you didn’t notice.”

His dark eyes narrowed at her, “And the kiss?”

“Oh, so you do know what I was speaking of then.” She murmured a little caustically.

“Aye, well, it seems that Karma’s fine tone sense of retribution for my brief moment of disloyalty was to have me eaten and spat out in a fish captain’s purgatory. Surely even you must agree that I’ve been sufficiently punished for my crime, eh?” Jack smiled as charmingly as he could, making her snort.

“It wasn’t the kiss that bothered me, Jack. It was you dying...Miss. Swann may have mentioned it to me in a moment of unburdening.” She answered vaguely, misinterpreting his dubious glare as disbelief when merely he was trying to puzzle out when the two women had met, “She didn’t know who she was confessin’ to.”

“And you left her unharmed?” Jack asked genuinely surprised.

While jealousy made a rare appearance in his Quinn, protective did not. There were a few pirates – and maybe one or two of his relatives - residing at the bottom of the ocean for far lesser offenses than killing him.

Hell, he wasn’t entirely sure Grandmama had died of natural causes as Teague had claimed. He remembered that Quinn had been in their part of the world at the time, and she hated the old bitch almost more than he did.

“If I had been in her place, I would have done the same.” Quinn said with a shrug. For a moment Jack thought her possessed before she continued, “Sides, I knew Tia had talked her into helping get you back from the Locker, if she happened to get maimed or died in the process I wouldn’t have shed a tear.”

There it was - that was his Quinn. He relaxed back into his pillow as he sent her another suspicious look, “And how were you privy to what Tia Dalma’s plans were?”

“...Didn’t I mention?”

“No, no, you did not mention, luv.” Jack said pointedly, irritation flashed in his dark eyes at her, “It seems you’ve left quite a bit out of your recounting of our time apart.”

Quinn smiled sweetly, “And you can get the rest of it when you come back. You should have your own version of events well thought out by then.”

Jack pursed his lips, debating if he wanted to press the issue. At this point, the only thing he would have edited out of his account, she already knew...

Deciding it wasn’t worth the headache, he changed the gambit, “Sri Sumbhajee, you heard him speak tonight then, do you know -”

“He’s a eunuch.”

“...Is he not married?” Jack asked, perplexed and he faintly pitied the woman if it true.

“He is.” Quinn said quietly, resting her head over his heart, “On his second wife, if I heard correctly.”

“I wonder how that works then.” Jack grimaced curiously.

“For him or her?”

“Both?”

-----

The utterly disconcerting feeling of being watched woke Jack sometime later – at least that’s what he would tell Quinn. Confusion briefly descended when he didn’t feel the soft shifting of waves. Then it all came screaming back – he barely muffled a curse. Drowsily, his head tilted toward the doorway to see Teague pulling his fist back from the door.

Must have knocked.

Christ, but that was off putting. For a moment, he thought he was thirteen again.

“It’s time, boy.” Teague growled lowly once he saw Jack was conscious before disappearing from sight like a ghost.

Very off putting.

Jack could only grunt before he moved to get up, only to find a weight pressing against his stomach. He thought it Quinn’s leg as he slipped his arm from beneath her head, but a quick peek, showed him a messy curly mane belonging to his daughter. He wasn’t sure how he slept through her clambering into bed with them, but not his father’s knock.

Sense of self-preservation perhaps. He didn’t need to defend himself against his little girl.

Gently, he eased her over before he reached for his trousers. He moved with more grace than he typically displayed in public, donning his clothes and wresting his boots into place before he moved back to sort his girls.

Luckily, Rose’s propensity for sleeping like the dead hadn’t changed in his time away as he slid her up the bed to lay within her mother’s protective reach.

He was pulling the sheets around their little one when he heard Quinn whisper, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Glittering emerald worry peered at him, but Jack met her stare unflinchingly, “As long as you swear to do the same.”

“When am I ever stupid?”

“I’ll not answer that.” He said wisely, smiling when she glared at him, “I’ll be back before you know it, luv.”

“Better be.” Quinn said tightly, fighting back tears as she watched him kiss Rose in farewell, “I love you.”

Jack stilled as those three words escaped her lips. Rarely did they ever acknowledge it – they never needed to because it was just a fact. He loved Quinn and she loved him and that was it. To hear her say it now felt incredibly wrong – too much like a permanent farewell. His heart thundered loudly in his ears.

“I thought only heedless fools ever said those words.” Jack said quietly, reminding her of the first time he had ever said it to her.

“Aye, and you’re the biggest heedless fool I know and maybe I am too. So, I'm saying it.” Quinn stated softly.

He nodded, suddenly understanding just how frightened she was for him before leaning over and catching her lips in his. His kiss was bruising, almost angry as he took his fill. A wetness splashed his cheeks as Quinn lost the battle with her tears.

He pulled back and found himself soothing her in much the same way he had Jonah earlier, “None of that now, Quinnie. Don’t you dare cry.”

Wants and needs, he had told their son. He wanted to stay. Quinn needed him to stay even if she wouldn’t say it, but he also needed to go. His hand had been deep in the pot that caused the current climate with Beckett and Jones, so it would be his hand that helped clear it and kept his family safe.

He stole one last kiss before he whispered, “I love you too, Little Sprite.”

Jack turned from her then, knowing he wouldn’t be able to leave if he didn’t. He didn’t dare look back at her, her distress would simply break him. Instead, he snagged his sword and gun from the chair by the door and strode from the room and down the stairs to where Teague waited.

His father didn’t comment on his grim expression, merely watched as Jack pointedly ignored him in favor of finding his coat, “Is she alright?”

“No.” Jack said stoutly, but raised his chin as he met Teague’s stare, “But she will be if I have anything to say about it.”

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #captain jack sparrow #fanfiction #fanfic #pirates of the caribbean fanfiction #Captain Jack Sparrow/OFC #Original Characters

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