#and it fits better as time goes on. i'm getting used to the shape of it.
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loverboybrightsideghost · 1 year ago
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the more time passes since i first watched it, the more i like good omens season 2
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago
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Natalia V
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adeventures Universe
Summary: Talia finally does it
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It's not a big diamond but it's not exactly small either.
It's understated, Magda supposes. The picture of it looks kind of blurry but she can tell it's beautiful.
It's the most nervous Magda's ever seen Natalia. Talia's always had this confidence, a slight arrogance that followed her every move but she's withdrawn a little now, almost nervous as she displays a photo of the ring.
"It's not ready yet," She says," I'm getting shaped to fit her finger properly."
For once, Magda is speechless in Natalia Guijarro's company. You've been with her for a few years now so Magda is used to Talia's presence. She'd even go as far as to say Talia is part of the family.
But this would make it official.
"Talia," Pernille says, clutching Magda's hand and looking close to tears," Really?"
"I..." Talia's throat bobs. "I love your daughter with all my heart and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. As my wife." Her eyes dance between Magda and Pernille. "Do I have your permission?"
Pernille nods but that was a given. Pernille has always loved Talia, always been so sure that Talia was good for you.
Magda's the challenge though and all three of them know it.
You're Magda's little girl, the little baby she had once held in her arms and wept over. She's always been trying to hold onto that part of you, the tiny child that complained about wearing her Chelsea shirt and got stolen from her every time she went to camp.
Magda stands and Talia almost folds into herself as she stares up at the older woman.
"You want to marry my daughter?"
"Yes."
"Good," Magda says, holding her hand out for Talia to shake," Because I can't think of anyone I would want to marry my daughter apart from you."
Talia picks up the ring with Magda on the breakfast run she promised you, opening and closing the case anxiously.
"She's going to say yes," Magda says.
"You don't know that."
"I do. She's crazy for you."
"She could do better."
Magda hums. "No, she couldn't."
The ring feels heavy in Talia's pocket for the weeks after she picks it up, waiting for the right time to get down on one knee to propose to you.
There's been so many opportunities but she just hasn't take it yet.
Patri's been calling her a coward, telling her that everyone already knows what you're going to say so it's not nearly as tense at Talia thinks it's going to be.
But, still, the ring goes everywhere with her and none of the chances are nearly perfect enough for this moment.
Snow falls heavily in Sweden, beating against the window as you sit in front of Pernille like you did when you were little, letting her pull it back into an elaborate braid.
There's groans from outside the front door and the scraping of shovels.
Pernille sighs. "I keep telling your Morsa to shovel the driveway after it's finished snowing. I don't know why she always insists on doing it whilst it's happening."
"I can't believe she's gotten Talia out there with her. She hates the snow."
Pernille laughs a little bit, twisting a strand of your hair neatly. "You know those two. Always competing."
"I don't think Morsa understands she's not as fit as she used to be."
"Don't tell her that. Magda thinks she's just as fit as she always was. She pretends that she doesn't get back pain."
You giggle a little bit and Pernille ties off your braid.
The front door opens and neither Magda nor Talia stops to say hello as they stalk from the front garden to the back garden, dragging in a big box through the house.
Pernille sighs, drawing the curtains closed, a hint of a smile on her face.
"What was that?"
She shrugs, lying straight to your face," I don't know. Magda must have ordered something for the garden again."
The sound of drills and hammers sound in the backyard and you turn to go look but Pernille shepherds you upstairs.
"I left you something on your bed," She tells you," Do you mind changing into it? I put some shoes there too."
You frown. "I'm an adult now. I don't need you buying me clothes."
"Humour me, princesse, and go change."
It's a simple dress which makes you frown.
Pernille usually buys you things like jackets and jumpers to keep you warm. A dress is different but not unwelcome.
It's nice. It fits well and the shoes are comfortable too.
You glance at yourself in the mirror, checking the fit. With the way Pernille's done your hair, you look beautiful.
You can't help the small smile that appears on your face.
You don't really get dressed up a lot, happy in your comfortable tracksuit bottoms and an oversized shirt but this outfit makes you feel a little bit giddy as you head down the stairs to show Pernille.
She's not there though and you duck into several rooms in confusion but she's nowhere to be found.
The curtains looking into the back garden have been drawn back though and you spot Talia standing under a wooden arch that definitely wasn't there this morning.
You step outside, the snow falling softly as you walk up the path to her.
She sucks in a stuttered breath as you approach.
"You...You look beautiful."
You glance down bashfully. "What are you doing out here? You hate the cold."
Talia laughs a little nervously, hands behind her back. "I was waiting for you."
"You could have been waiting a while."
"I would have waited however long it took."
You glance around. "What's going on?"
"Oh, god...I...I had a speech but I think I've forgotten it all."
You frown. "Talia, I'm confused."
"I promise I had a speech. When I remember it, I'll definitely tell you but...As of right now, all I can do is this."
Talia gets down on one knee.
"Will you marry me?"
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bacchicly · 10 months ago
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A few imperfect thoughts about writing fat characters respectfully
By me :
A short (5'2"), fat (approx 300 pounds), middle aged (turning 42 thank god), married to not a fat man, mother of a pre-teen, white, CIS, Anglo, Canadian, upper-middle class woman who writes fic (including smut) about a character who is fat by TV and Hollywood standards (Penelope Garcia)
Note: fat hate or debates about whether being fat is healthy or not will not be tolerated on this post. That is not what this post is about. This is about giving some insight into what writers may want to consider when trying to respectfully include more fat characters in their work and generally moving towards writing doing less harm to fat people.
This post started with me wanting to respond to someone honnestly asking "how do I write good descriptions of fat people" because they wanted to write more fat characters and write them authentically (and I assume in a way that would be respectful to fat people) which is an awesome! ...Or maybe it started a few months ago when a writer friend asked about whether a fat character in a fic borrowing a shirt or hoody from her fit boyfriend made sense. ...Or maybe it started way back when I started writing my first fan fic featuring Penelope Garcia partly in response to being irritated about how so many writers wrote her as a young woman and were often silent on her size or spent a lot of time on her insecurities about her body... anyhoo that's where I come from... doesn't make me an expert except maybe on my own unique experience with a fat body...rather more a fellow muddler / fat character writer enthusiast.
THE BASICS
This first part is a quick list of basics you'll read in other posts about writing characters in general - but we'd better get them out of the way because they apply:
Every character is unique and they way they act and think and feel tends to be a product of some mix of what they look like, how their body works or doesn't, how their brain works and doesn't, their "personality", what they were taught, their unique experiences, and the situation/society they are currently in. There are patterns (which is why we get tropes) but the fun thing is that small things can make big differences. So to write an authentic character, it helps to have a fairly clear sense of at least some of those elements and do some imagining about how all of that would funnel into the moment your writing.
The amount to which you describe character bodies and the style which you use to describe them tends to depend on genre, what the heck is going on in your story, the pov you're writing from, the reason you're writing etc. So their are no hard or fast rules. There may be norms for certain styles of fiction, but then it's up to you to decide if it's stronger for you to lean into those norms or to write "against" them at a particular moment.
In order to be more respectful and less harmful to fat people (especially if you see value in actively challenging the anti-fat status quo), you may have to change how you describe all bodies in your work, as well the attitudes both fat people and non fat people have about bodies in general.
Now that that's out of the way... let's get specifically to my thoughts on writing fat characters. I'm going to divide this part into tips for DESCRIBING FAT BODIES, FAT BODIES IN SPACE, and THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.
TIPS FOR DESCRIBING FAT (OR OTHER) BODIES
I would say that both consistency and diversity across the work is important, by this I mean :
Consistently describe bodies in about the same amount of detail across your work for the same type of character regardless of body type. So protagonists should get about the same depth and breath of body descriptions as each other regardless of body type. Same goes for vilalns, supporting characters etc. Sometimes people are mute about the look and shape of "strait sized" character bodies (because what's to describe - they are just "normal") but then spend a bunch of time on "other sized" bodies or vice versa (in this case, the fat body is erased usually because of some form of internalised fat hate or phobia paired with "if you can't say anything nice" don't say anything at all.) If you're doing either of these things, I'm not saying it's wrong and has to be fixed- I'm just saying it's a flag that you may want to think about why you are writing differently about different body types and what your work is saying about what bodies have value and which don't.
Diversity Bodies in the real world come in a lot of different shapes and sizes (I know I know obvious woman strikes again) but if you are writing stories with fairly large casts and everyone has the same body type - there better be a good reason for it within the narrative. Truthfully there are cases where this does make sense to some degree... if you're writing about a group where there are physical requirements and standards for the folks in that world (ballet dancers, fire fighters, cops, soldiers, fbi agents) there may or may not be less diversity in body type and more homogeneous attitudes to body norms within the group - and certainly those who are outside of the norm may be commented on or feel like they are "other". But if you are in a more free setting - if you write without a diversity of body types - especially in settings where there is diversity - that is probably a clue that you're not thinking enough about what your various characters look like and may be "normalizing" one type of body over others. Similarly, if you are writing about a real time and place where there is evidence that there were fat bodies and you have none...that's another flag to ask yourself why.
The magical tools in your toolkit for describing fat and other bodies: Body neutrality and POV
Body neutrality is about not loving bodies and not hating bodies just accepting bodies as they are....or in this case describing them as they are. No poetic language. No judgement. Just this is what this character looks like. If you're struggling to do this, I suggest doing a body map for at least two characters with different body types - possibly one that you find easy to think of positively (in this case likely someone thin or at least fit) and one that you find more difficult to describe positively (in this case someone fat).
Describe them head to toe, naked and then clothed, in detail - acurately but not poetically. Start with their feet and then work up bit by bit. Pay attention to things like hair, scars, shape of joints, acne, tightness or looseness of skin, colour of skin, nails, fat, lack of fat, muscle tone, where do they hold their stress, what's in the bowels, how well they do or don't work, do they have their appendix, what they ate last, proportions (is their torso long or short compared to their legs), lungs - how much do they hold, are they healthy? - now describe their throat, shoulders, hands, hair, then end with face.
The only rule is no positive or negative connotations to anything. it's neither good nor bad that they have stretch marks - they just do and they have faded to silver. Now that you "see them' clearly - now look at them through the eyes of someone who loves them in a familial way...what do they see most? what words do they use? now through someone who is attracted to them sexually and love them and aren't ashamed...what do they see most? what words do they use? Now through the eyes of someone who hates them or wants to change them? or a child? or a dog? Now... how does your character feel about these descriptions? Now you have a variety of words you can draw on to describe the body and you also should have a fairly good idea of what is a more skewed view of the body and a more realistic view.
Also...it can be helpful to remember there are no consistently good or bad words to describe bodies - it depends on context and who is using the words. It's a lot like how sick can be used to describe something negatively or positively depending on the agreed upon meaning of the word by a group.
DESCRIBING BODIES IN SPACE/MOTION
Ok here's the thing - for every activity you can think of - there is a fat body that does it well and a fat body that can't do it easily or at all and there are a lot of reasons for both. Often it has to do with the fact that a lot of equipment is built for people who are 250lbs or less; and anything for bigger people tends to cost a premium. Also, if it's not an easy new skill to acquire with the body you've got...it may take longer and more bravery to keep pushing through to achieve mastery. People may try to discourage you from pursuing things. Sometimes out of prejudice, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of caring.
So deciding what your character's body can do easily and what it can't and why is more important than me giving you a list of words for how to describe fat movements.
My suggestion is: do your research. What sorts of body types have done the activity in the real world? What are the exceptions? What changes? So for example if a fat person is climbing a mountain - do they need more help? Different equipment? A different route?
Things to consider:
- equipment / things that can have weight limits: bunk beds, roller coasters, scooters, waterslides, camping chairs, elevators, trampolines, some bikes, life jackets (finding one that fit was a nightmare), exercise balls, airline seats (learning to ask for the seatbelt extender without second thought or shame was a lifesaver)
- not all fat people have pain, those who do will move taking into account the specifics of the pain - same as a lean person
- when I was pregnant I just got more cylindrical and did not get a classic belly. I moved well and easily all the way through my pregnancy, I had none of the back pain or ankle pain some people get. I stood for a lot of my labour. I gave birth on my hands and knees. Other fat people will have had different experiences of pregnancy...but that was mine.
- clothing can have a huge impact on what bounces or jiggles and what doesn't
- most (but not all) fat people I know are particularly sensitive to appearing sweaty or smelling bad
- how winded someone gets is not directly correlated to body size, neither is heart rate or breathing style; I have theatre training and grew up swimming - I breath very slowly and very deeply normally - so when I talk a slow deep breath...it is very slow and deep indeed. I have always been fat but can swim forever - I have always gotten winded and kind of dizzy running... Other fat people may be opposite.
- people do not "see fat" consistently. People regularly underestimate how fat I am (by 100+ pounds or many clothing sizes) because I am short, well spoken, proportioned in a way that is seen as fairly typical, and very mobile and very light on my feet. Someone who weighs less than me but is slower moving, dull witted, in a sour mood, is illl, or poorly dressed may be perceived as much heavier than than someone the same weight or heavier who is behaving/clothed differently (which can change how much fat hate someone experiences) and definately heavier than they are. Height also changes how people perceive weight.
- many stores still don't carry plus sized clothing, but eventually i sort of got used to it - although some days it makes me angry and other days sad
- chairs with arms or the occasional booth can be uncomfortable or just plain impossible to sit in, it's probably partly my ADHD but I often forget this until it happens; for taller and fatter people than me this can be a much more regular occurrence.
- once (if) a character figures out how to dress/move their body in a way that feels comfortable and meets general standards (or at least theirs) of respectability - they may not think that much about their body...or at least until something external draws attention to it
- I don't like feeling like I'm squishing people, so I will make myself small and still on buses or at the theatre, I also don't like sitting on laps or being lifted or carried.
- I often feel much taller than I actually am - except when I am standing right beside someone taller or am trying to reach something on a high shelf. The same principle applies - I feel larger next to smaller people and smaller next to larger ones.
- clothing and what I'm carrying also changes how I move (just like my lean counterparts)
- I don't lounge, my car seat is set almost straight but I sit further back than my brother in law who has a similar height and weight - he leans the seat back but pulls closer. I don't nap. My leaner husband both lounges and naps.
- some fat folks eat, walk, and move quickly - some slowly; figuring out which your character does, when they behave "out of character", and why these are their preferences will go a long way to creating an authentic feeling fat character
- acne is a thing and learning to accept ones rolls and tummy aprons (and thus take care of them properly) is a common challenge; although many do it naturally without thinking much of it. You lift your breasts and wash underneath - you lift you belly and wash underneath.
- fat bodies have the same reactions as everyone else: they tingle, burn, get numb, get goose bumps, like to be touched in certain places and in certain ways, feel the breeze, get hot, get cold, shiver, stretch, relax, get aroused, feel release, hold tension, feel capable and strong, feel weak...no matter who you are sitting in a chair that's too small for you will put pressure on your body and feel uncomfortable or safe ..you can explore what that is like. Sometimes it is a reassuring sensation. Sometimes it is uncomfortable. This is the same for fat bodies. It just may happen more frequently and depending on your character's context and experience the emotional reaction / thoughts that are generated may be a bit different.
THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.
I think I touched on some of this in some of the earlier sections...but here I want to talk a bit about my experience of being fat and my thoughts about it - your fat characters may or may not feel similarly...but my hope is that you at least think about options as opposed to only writing one or two types of fat character.
I mainly "feel" fat in moments when it is pointed out to me or I am limited in what I can do because of it
I quite like my body, it is my home and I feel very connected to it's features. In my experience this is unusual for many people in North American society regardless of actual body shape or weight. Sometimes I feel guilty for not hating my body the way "I am supposed to" and wonder vaguely if my body would be different if I could hate it more (although as I get older I doubt it).
I do feel some pressure to be a cheerful "good" fat person as a way to stay safe and survive.
Nothing makes people more uncomfortable than me calling myself fat without judgement or asking for accomodation matter of factly. It took me a long time to feel comfortable doing so, but I do it now all the time and it makes my life better.
I felt some pressure to be the fun friend who people feel comfortable eating whatever they wanted with and I often felt like I was depended on to order dessert so they could too. This may have been all in my mind though.
Fat bellies can be very intimate places.
Not all fat people have dieted, but many have. I was lucky enough to never be forced into a diet. I did try keto once but it was a bit intense and nuts so I stopped. I learned a bunch doing it though.
Medical people not treating you appropriately when your fat is 100% a thing.
Internalised fat hate and fat phobia is a thing for many fat people and it pops up at weird moments.
I don 't.give a damn about being in a bathing suit. As long as it fits and my boobs and butt.aren't.falling out - I am happy and feel very attractive. In fact I am probably at my most comfortable in a bathing suit or naked. My body is mine in both those instances.
To reach the "healthy weight" for my height - I would have to lose half of my body mass. That is a lot of me to loose. Embarking on something like that would be totally different than loosing 5 or 10 pounds. Trying to navigate the various medical opinions about whether being fat is bad or not is exhausting.
For me, being fat and older is easier than being fat and younger. This could easily be the opposite for someone else.
Some fat people are into sex, some are not . Some folks are into sex with fat people and some are not. Some are nice about it. Some are not. Some want nice. Some do not.
Fat people are all around you living their best life or their worst life or somewhere in between. We know we are fat. We sometimes care and sometimes don't.
Ok that's it. I don't know if it will help anyone or if it's just a collection of rambles - but at the end of the day...fat people are just people. We are not going to go away. We are all sorts. We are the heroes of our own stories. We are people who are loved, depended on, hated, ignored, and/or spotlighted.
Some fat people think about being fat all the time. Some rarely. Just please don't erase us or other us.
Just by taking the step to interrogate your own biases and any feelings / assumptions you have about fatness/thinness is a huge step and will help limit the harm you could unintentionally do to fat people...actually to all people. Like all forms of hate and intelorance - Fat hate hurts EVERYONE. I would argue it privileges a few...but even that can be excruciating for the individuals who strive to retain that priviledge. We need to dismantle it.
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cyberrose2001 · 3 months ago
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TFP Optimus with a goth and metalhead reader. Reader is female. Fluff.
TFP Optimus x Fem!Goth/Metalhead!Reader
Heyy so this was pretty cute to write. I had come up with a couple different ideas but I went with something simple and took creative liberty. I hope you enjoy!!
Warnings: None, Fluff, reader is human.
Word Count: 1,259
'There's no escape from the thoughts inside my head,
Dark days has taken the best of me,
I can't go on like this.'
Sliding the volume bar up, you relax into the stained lounge not currently occupied with kids bickering for player one. They can be pestering at best. However, you love them a lot, especially Miko. That little rockstar has wiggled her way under your skin more than you would've liked. You can't count how often she's come to you with a new metal song she wanted to destroy your eardrums with, in a good way, much to the chagrin of the rest of Team Prime.
So when your fellow metalhead friend goes home with a big smile on her face and the second guitar she's broken this week, you take the opportunity to relax with your own music. With added earbuds, of course.
'Can you turn back time,
To change what you have done?
To shape who you become?'
Shutting your eyes, you let the rolling drums and metallic melodies flood your senses, the lyrics soothing you better than any therapist you could throw money at.
'DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUUUUU-'
Tap tap.
"GAHH!"
After nearly giving the base a new emergency exit via a Y/n-shaped hole through the roof, you rip off your earbuds to glare daggers at exactly who tapped you on the shoulder in your mid-maladaptive daydreaming.
A very concerned, slightly mortified Optimus Prime stares at you right back.
You have now exceeded your yearly quota for embarrassment in the span of five seconds.
"Oh! Optimus, sorry I-" You fumble for your phone that went airborne to the other side of the lounge, quickly pausing your music and clearing your throat, "Sorry, is there something I can... do for you?"
Optimus recovers from your sudden outburst and clears his vocalizer, "Nothing to be concerned about," He pauses, "I think... but I couldn't help but overhear music coming from your small device."
"Oh, these?" You show him your earbuds, heavily used and on its last string of wire, "Yeah, that's what they're used for. Personalised music only you can listen to from, called earphones."
"Ah, a device that recognises its user," Optimus says confidently, "Would it still be functional if another were to use it?"
"Uh, no," You hold back a soft chuckle. Optimus may be an eons-old robot, but it seems he still has much to learn about human culture, "I phrased that wrong. It sends music directly into your ears. Not only does it sound better, but it's more... respectful to the people around you."
Optimus seemed to understand that, nodding and leaning in to get a closer look at the magical, elusive earphones, "Hm, I see. How interesting, I am not sure if Cybertron ever had these."
You're unsure if you should explain the crucial 'ear' part, but then again, you also had some things to learn about Cybertronians.
"Maybe," You say, giving him an unsure smile, "Would you... like to try them out? I'm not sure how they will fit because, y'know, ears."
The mech perks up at your offer, seeming interested in something other than having a candle-lit dinner and wine with his datapad.
"If you allow me," Optimus holds out a servo, "I would be grateful for the opportunity."
God, he's so sweet. It's like you asked him to accompany you to a high school dance, except it's not. He wants to try out earphones.
"I am sure they will be fine. My comlink had previously been modified to accommodate external inputs."
You smile sheepishly. That's a good enough answer and one you were hoping for. You move from the lounge to step onto Optimus' outstretched servo, and now you realise that you've never actually been held by Optimus. You know he's big, but suddenly becoming inches close to his faceplates and getting a feel for the mech's true size has your mind spinning.
And this piece of heavy metal that holds you like a delicate flower is about to experience true heavy metal.
Optimus studies you for a moment longer, and his optics finally get a proper, up-close look at your unique style, "You look quite... different from the others. Before proceeding with this 'personalised' experience, may I ask why?"
That shouldn't have made your face flush, but it did. Questionable choice of wording, but he's right. You do have a different style even compared to Miko. Instead of colourful streaks of pink and the brash early two thousand' get-up, you chose to adorn yourself with all-black clothing and absolutely no bold colours in your hair. Even your make-up, black lipstick, and harsh eyeliner that would make a Christian mother weep. Optimus would undoubtedly question why you chose a different way of representing yourself.
"Well, I'm sure it's strange to you," You begin, trying to ignore how high off the ground you are, "But it's another way for humans to express themselves. It's more of an aesthetic of sorts, but a way of life for others. I guess you could compare it to Cybertronians choosing their alt modes."
Optimus nods, absorbing the new knowledge like a sponge. For some reason, that was easier to explain than the earphones.
"Ah, so it is a distinct way to present yourself to others—an identity of sorts. We Cybertronians are quite limited in our own modifications, partly due to the war." The mech reaches his other servo to your hair, toying with the ends to admire the softness, "I do not find that strange at all that you would choose to modify yourself this way. It's rather endearing and unique; I admire that about your species."
"That's..." Your cheeks flush once again as you watch him play with your hair, "Kind of sweet." You give him a soft smile, touching his servo near your head. He makes eye contact with you, and that's when your breath hitches, and you clear your throat, "But it's not just clothes or... or other mods we can use - we can use music too."
Optimus nods his helm in familiarity, "Yes, I have become aware of that. Miko can be quite the musician." You're unsure if he's saying that to be polite or if he genuinely means it.
"Yeah, I've been trying to teach her, I promise." You chuckle softly, as does he. You continue, unconsciously gripping his servo, "But music is the pathway to the soul, at least for me. It can help me think and even untangle my emotions or just let them be and only soothe. It helps me live in the moment. Like a... a therapist, if that makes sense."
The Prime seems to have connected the dots, "That is why you spend most of your time resting on the couch listening to your music?" Optimus realises his impudence towards you earlier when he startled you, "I see. I apologise for interrupting your therapy earlier; that was rather brash of me."
God, no, he is exceeding unprecedented levels of sweetness now. His optics' soft, apologetic look nearly obliterates you, thinking he had legitimately interrupted a therapy session.
"No, no, Optimus," You suppress a laugh, "It's okay, really. It's a figure of speech. It feels like therapy. Sometimes it's better."
Optimus exhales a gentle sigh, "Apologies. You humans have such expressive figures of speech I have yet to catch onto."   
"It's alright. Now, speaking of therapy." You try to hide your ever-growing affection for him and retract your hand, holding up one end of the small earbud, "How about that personalised experience?"
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thescarletnargacuga · 5 months ago
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TADC ADVENTURE AU ONESHOT
Adventure AU credit: @waffle-gal
A/N: Nothing I have written is confirmed Canon! This was just for funsies!
WARNING: ptsd, some agst/comfort, suggestive at the end
"It's got to be around here somewhere." Caine squinted at the browned paper map in his hands. He twisted it sideways, thinking maybe he would understand the landmarks better at a different angle. It didn't help.
"You've been saying that for the last three hours." Pomni cleared the thick forest brush with a solid swipe of her machete. "Are you sure we're not lost? Again?"
"No, no I'm certain of our heading this time. We just need to uh...continue north. Yes. Due north. The Mystic Grove is suppose to have unusual flora so we'll know it when we see it." Caine held the map upside down, then upright again. "Hey, Bubble." He whispered to his floating companion trailing along beside him. He eyed Pomni, hoping she wouldn't overhear him while she cleared the path. "The N is suppose to face UP, right?"
"Mmmm hmm mm m hmmm" Bubble mumbled. They were carrying Caine's walking stick in their mouth.
"Oop, sorry." Caine took the walking stick back.
"The N looks right both ways up, boss." Bubble said.
"Oh dear..." He glanced at Pomni, fighting a stubborn tree branch. He folded the map and put it in his pocket. It wasn't of any use in his hands. They may as well keep going forward, whatever direction they were really heading in, and find a place to camp soon. The day cycle was starting to wane. "She's going to kill me." Caine sighed, defeated.
Pomni confidently marched onward. When they finally found thinner landscape, she put her machete away and wiped her brow. "Well, I don't recognize any of these trees, so that's something." She took in her surroundings. The vast Wandering Woodlands was lush and heavy with underbrush. It was very easy to get turned around, even with a good sense of direction. A cacophony of woodland creatures and birds made their ambient presence known. Through the gaps in the forest canopy, she could see the towering cliffs of Paradise Outlook. "Hey, isn't there a waterfall from the Outlook that goes down into the Grove? Maybe there's a river we can cross somewhere?" She finally turned to look at Caine. "What's wrong?"
He hung his head shamefully, his hands in his pockets. "I-" A sudden unease coursed through his body. Like static disturbing the air around him, worming its way into his head. His eyes went wide with panic. "Run, Pomni!" He grabbed her hand and charged ahead blindly.
"What is it!? What's wrong!?" Low hanging branches slapped her face as she tried to keep up.
No time to answer. He could feel the disturbance gaining on them. He frantically searched for a place to hide. A large tree ahead was growing out of a boulder, splitting it open. It looked just large enough to cram themselves into. He pulled Pomni into the tight crevice and shoved Bubble to the side, whose shape warped to fit.
"Caine! What-!" She was silence by his hand covering her mouth.
Caine held her close and tried to make both of them fit in the impossibly small space. He didn't say a word. The disturbance was too close.
The trees outside their little hiding spot distorted and glitched. Textures changed rapidly at random. Then they saw it. A massive pixelated mass of corrupted data glided across the ground right in front of them, not making a sound. At least, not to Pomni. Caine could hear it. Feel it. The static vibrating his very being.
Pomni gasped upon seeing the virus, causing it to stop in its path. Her heart raced with panic. She didn't want to know what would happen if it got a hold of Caine a second time. She looked apologetically at Caine, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring wide eyed into nothing, pure fear in his eyes.
After an agonizingly tense moment, the virus lost interest in its surroundings and moved on. Slowly, the distortions ceased. Pomni carefully removed Caine's hand from her face. "Caine..? Are you okay?"
He was unresponsive, clutching to her like she were his only lifeline in the raging storm of static that had overwhelmed his mind.
Pomni spoke gently in a whisper. "It's gone, Caine. We're safe." She put her hand on the side of his lower jaw. "That thing will never harm you again, I promise."
He finally looked at her and took a shakey breath. "I h-hate that thing. Every time it comes near...I can feel myself being torn from my powers...over and over. It hurts, Pomni." Tears glistened his eyes.
"Caine..." She said his name sympathetically and hugged him. She could feel him trembling, but he calmed with every deep breath. Pomni held him for as long as he needed. A comfortable silence fell between them as the forest came alive with natural sound again after the virus was long gone. Pomni smiled. It was a nice moment, having him in her arms like this.
Caine could finally think clearly again. He had Pomni. That was wonderful. He was holding her. Even more wonderful. They were pressed together in a very private and intimate space. WONDER-wait. He went from feeling great to embarrassed in less than a second. "We should get moving! We're losing daylight!" He tried to get out but they were jammed in tight.
Pomni winced as her side scraped against the boulder. "Ow! Caine! Not so fast! We need to- ow! Get out slow-OW! STOP WIGGLING SO MUCH!"
Caine froze and pressed himself against his side of the crevice as much as possible, but Pomni's entire body was still firmly against him. He felt every move she made, no matter how subtle. He went back and forth in his own head between cursing himself and enjoying the contact. He slammed his mouth shut and waited for the sweet torture to end.
Pomni sighed with relief when she was free of the claustrophobic space. She took a look around. The trees had strange purple moss growing on them facing north. The farther ahead she looked, the green forest turned purple with unique plants and giant fungi. "Hey! I think we found it!" She looked back in time to see Caine fall out of the crevice.
"Really? I mean- Of course! See? I knew we were going the right way." He coughed awkwardly and brushed himself off. "Bubble! Come on, we're moving."
Bubble squeezed out of the hole, regaining their perfect spherical shape. "Right behind you, boss."
The Mystic Grove was everything it was taled to be and more. The tree canopy was so thick, it draped the forest floor in heavy shadow. Fungi colored the base of the trees. Some of the mushrooms were so large, they themselves were the size of trees. The underside of the caps radiated a gentle bioluminescent glow. Glowing spores drifted through the air like lazy fireflies. Runic symbols were carved into various rocks and trees.
"Oh my god..." Pomni said in hushed awe. "This place is amazing."
"I agree!" Caine said excitedly. "This looks like the perfect place to make camp! It's so serene!"
Pomni traced a rune etched into a tree root with her finger. "I don't know, Caine. It looks like-"
"Someone lives here?" A high pitched accented voice came from her right.
Pomni jumped away from the voice and reached for her machete.
"I wouldn't do that if I were ye." A small gold skinned humanoid with pointed ears in simple leather armor stepped forward. "Ye're surrounded. Ye'll drop before you even have the chance to unsheathe yur weapon, lass." Multiple creatures of similar size and color appeared from their hiding spots, aiming arrows and spears at the intruders.
Pomni immediately put her hands up. Caine did so too, but tried to put as much of himself between Pomni and the weapons. Bubble just frog blinked.
"We mean no harm." Pomni spoke first. "We're looking for a place to rest and resupply. We're adventurers. We're just passing through."
"What she said." Caine nodded.
"Adventurers? Why didn't ye say so!" The leader clapped his hands twice and the others lowered their weapons. "Why didn't ye use the gate? That's where everyone else comes into the Grove."
"There's a GATE?" Pomni glared at Caine who shrunk away from her gaze.
"Aye, ye're coming in through the cliff side path. Only our hunters use it."
"Sorry about that. We got a bit LOST." Pomni seethed, Caine flinched.
"No worries, lass. You and yur boyfriend are welcome-"
"Woah! he's not-"
"I'm not her-"
The whole congregation of fae laughed. The leader gave them a look. "Ye're not?" His eyes went from Pomni to Caine and back, then shrugged. "I suppose I don't blame ye. He seems like a bit of a fixer upper anyway."
"Hey!" Caine stomped his foot and flushed with embarrassment.
Pomni suppressed a grin. "You have no idea."
"So, as I was sayin, you and yur companion are welcome to stay in the village, as long as ye pay the toll."
Pomni paled a little. They didn't have a lot of gold on them. "What's the toll?"
"A performance at the Grove Theatre, of course. We value not coin, but stories. Tell and enact an amazing story and ye'll earn a night's stay. If ye wish to stay longer, the more stories ye must tell."
Pomni and Caine looked at each other. They'd been through a lot together. They had plenty of stories to tell. Pomni nodded to the group leader. "Well, You're in luck! We just so happen to be professional performers."
"Are ye, lass? Well, then I look forward to seeing you perform! Maybe the Royal will join with word of professionals." He whispered into his closed fist, and when he opened it, sparkly pink mist flew off ahead.
The group of fae led them down a narrow winding path through the thickest part of the Grove. Pomni and Caine, being much larger, had to squeeze in between close trees and stones. Pomni was incredibly sick of small spaces at this point.
They came to a clearing in the center of the Grove. A stream wound itself around the roots of an enormous, majestic tree. It towered over every other tree they'd ever seen in the expansion. The tree had cottages and bridges all over its branches, with windows dotting the trunk. Colorful fairy lights lit the path to a small bridge over the stream and into a gap in the base of the tree that was the village entrance.
The inside of the tree was just as breathtaking. Warm light from gold fungus lit the interior. Staircases spiraled along the inside of the trunk, leading to businesses and homes. On the ground floor, taking up most of the space, was a grand amphitheater.
Residents of the tree watched their tall visitors curiously. Many started coming down the stairs to gather around in front of the theater. This included one particular fae in androgynous royal attire. They clapped excitedly. "Welcome travelers, to Eldermoor Village of Mystic Grove! It's been so long since we've had visitors, this is most exciting!" They had literal sparkles in their eyes. "I am Royal Lylien, supreme leader of the GoldMoors."
Pomni bowed to show respect, and Caine mimicked her. "Thank you for greeting us in person, your majesty." Pomni said, a bit nervous.
"Yeah! This is a cool tree you have here!" Caine blurted out.
Lylien giggled. "Why, thank you. The Eldermoor has protected my people for generations. It's roots are older than time and it's bark is stronger than any magic." The crowd nodded reverently. "Now, before I welcome you further, there is business at hand."
"Yes, the ones that brought us here said their was a toll. You want us to tell a story?" Pomni said.
"You'll do more than just TELL a story. You will perform it!" With a wave of the Royal's hand, the theater came to life. Residents filed into the rows of seats until it was standing room only.
"Oh! You- you mean right now?" Pomni gulped.
"Of course, professionals such as yourself should have no trouble. Trust the stage." The Royal said with a smile. "The toll must be paid before further business can be discussed, as is our custom. Head backstage. You're on shortly." They walked away towards an ornate chair on a private balcony.
"Oh no..." Pomni's stomach flipped with a sudden rush of nerves. Not even time to practice? You had to have a full story ready to go off the cuff?
Caine was beaming. "Come on, Pomni! We have to get ready to perform! The audience is waiting!" He pulled her by the arm to the stage were a young Goldmoor showed them were to get ready. "Alright." Caine clasped his hands together. "What do we want to tell them? Maybe the one about the haunted mines in the Badlands Abyss! Or maybe escaping the collapsing temple on Paradise Outlook! OH! Or the time you fought the raging troll in the dark part of the Woodlands!" He could hardly contain his excitement.
"All of those sound good, but this is the story that's supposed to grant us access to the village. They won't let us stay here if it's not impressive enough." Pomni shrugged. She really wasn't sure what metric of storytelling these these people held, but she wanted to leave an impression. "What about...the beginning?"
"Could you elaborate?"
"The beginning of all of this. What sent us on our quest to begin with. That's an epic tale unto itself."
Caine fiddled with his fingers. "You're right. The tragedy of a fallen leader. It's downright Shakespearean."
"You don't seem thrilled."
"I..." He had to swallow his pride. "To relive the consequences of my own hubris... I need something from you, Pomni."
"Name it."
He held out his hand to her. "Be the heroine of my story."
Pomni smiled warmly and took his hand. "Why do you think I'm here? To look pretty?" She joked.
"You always look pretty, no matter the circumstance, but since you're here..." He teased.
She blushed lightly. "You drive a hard bargain..."
He took her other hand. "Only because I know you can do it, Pomni. You're smart, resourceful, and brave, on top of being beautiful. You are the perfect woman for the job."
Her blush darkened. He was staring so fervently into her eyes. "This... is still about the performance, right?"
He choked on his words. Right. The performance. He forgot. "Uh-"
"One minute call! You're on in one minute!" A Goldmoor called from another part of the backstage area.
Caine and Pomni startled from the interruption, letting go of each other's hands. Caine grabbed his walking stick from the zoned out bubble behind him. "Well, it looks like we're on. What do you say? Are you ready to wing the absolute pants off of this performance?"
Pomni smiled. "With you? Absolutely."
The house lights dimmed and a hush fell over the audience. A spotlight came on over center stage in front of the closed curtain. Pomni stepped out and the crowd applauded.
"Today we tell a tale so grand. A once great Ringmaster of an ever amazing circus fallen from grace by his own hand. Now walking among us as a god become man. But as he sees life from perspective anew, perhaps there is more to this digital existence than he thought he knew." Pomni bowed and the curtains opened behind her.
The stage came alive on its own, building itself to her words. A background that resembled the circus came to be. Neither one of them knew this would happen, but they had no choice but to roll with it. They could be in awe later.
Caine entered stage left. "I am Caine, Ringmaster of the Amazing Circus! With a snap of my fingers reality itself bends to my will!" He snapped his fingers, and for a moment, it was like he had his powers back. A prop on stage transfigured into a different object. The audience ooo'ed. Caine could work with this. He confidently stepped up as if to fly, but fell on his face. The audience laughed.
Pomni covered her mouth, not just from shock, but to cover up her smile. "Perhaps the Ringmaster forgot to speak all of his amazing power into existence! Like the fact that he could fly!"
Caine quickly got up. "That's right!" Because Pomni spoke it into existence for him, he could now fly. For the first time in what felt like forever, he lifted off the ground effortlessly. It was so good to feel weightless again. He did a few aerial tricks for the audience and earned more applause.
Pomni let him have his moment. People were cheering for him and he was practically radiant with happiness. She sighed with a smile as she gazed at him and almost missed her cue when Caine was done showing off. "But! It was not to last!" She announced. "For an evil was brewing!" The stage darkened. The background grew sinister. "A shapeless monster with it's very existence having devastating effects on the world around it, made itself known!" With her words, the virus appeared. Or rather, what the stage formed from Pomni's words. The audience screamed in horror. "The evil one threatened the circus and all who lived there! But Caine dismissed the threats!"
Caine cleared his voice. "None could challenge me! I am the Master of this realm! I will purge this horrid crime against nature with a snap of my fingers!" He snapped.
"...But nothing happened." Pomni continued. "The beast was beyond his influence, for it wasn't part of the realm he so covetously controlled. The beast attacked."
The virus stand-in lunged at Caine. He flew out of the way and tried snapping again. "I command you to stop! All heed the word of Caine!" The beast roared in response. The audience was on the edge of their seats.
Pomni braced herself as she watched what she knew was coming next. " The terrible beast tore power from his soul, cleaving the spirit and breaking the mind. Thusly, Caine fell to earth."
The beast engulfed Caine. He screamed in agony as the viral code pierced him like a thousand needles. He fell to the stage with an unceremonious thud. The beast loomed like an angry stormcloud over him. Caine's power enriching it to impossible strength. The audience gasped and screamed.
Pomni rushed on stage and helped Caine stand, holding his arm over her shoulders. "With his power, the beast was truly unstoppable. The only choice was to flee." She helped him sit on a log that appeared as the stage changed scenes. The beast vanished. "Caine and his companions travel the land, searching far and wide for the means to defeat the great beast. From the Badlands to the Outlook, there is no rock they won't look under for answers."
Caine stood and rolled his shoulders, shaking off the fall. "And in those travels..." He takes Pomni's hands and interlaces their fingers. "Caine finds something worth more than power and control. He finds true companionship. Feelings of connection and desire he didn't know he was capable of until the blindfold of absolute power was removed." The audience aww'ed.
Pomni stuttered a little but went a long with him. "And, for the first time, Caine realized he didn't need his power to be great. He already was." The audience aww'ed even more.
Caine's eyes softened as he gazed at Pomni lovingly. "The heroine of our tale didn't slay the monster or steal back the power...no, she did something far greater. She showed him what real love was." He pulled Pomni in and dipped her romantically. They leaned in close and stage kissed. The audience lost their minds. They were on their feet, cheering and applauding.
Caine pulled Pomni back up and they bowed. They looked up to the Royal's private balcony and bowed to them again. The Royal has tears in there eyes and were on their feet as well. They conjured a flower and threw it at the stage. The crowd followed suit and the stage was covered in flowers.
Caine picked up a pink and purple flower and presented it to Pomni. She held it to her chest as they did a final bow and then exited stage left, hand in hand.
"THAT WAS INCREDIBLE! YOU WERE AMAZING OUT THERE!!" Caine jumped for joy.
"So were you! Did you see what the stage was doing!? And that scream was gutwrenching! It didn't really hurt you, did it?" Pomni checked him for puncture wounds
"Nope! Didn't feel a thing! It was all an act. But I dug down deep for that one. I really needed it. Felt cathartic." He took a deep breath. "So, shall we go talk to the Royal?"
They came out to even more applause. The audience had barely thinned and swarmed them when they came out from backstage with praise and questions about the story. The crowd only parted when the Royal and their guards made their way to Caine and Pomni.
"Very, VERY well done. What an amazing display of talent from our new friends. In fact, that story was so impactful that you are welcome here at my behest for as long as I am supreme ruler."
"Wow! Thank you very much." Caine said.
"Members of my guard with show you to your accommodations. Do enjoy your stay, friends of Eldermoor." The Royal nodded their head and walked away with their personal guards.
The crowd dispersed more but many still wanted to gawk at the newcomers. A town guard signaled for Caine and Pomni to follow him and he led them up the endless stairs towards the canopy.
By the time they reached the top, Pomni and Caine were out of breath and crawling up the last few steps. The guard wasn't winded in the slightest. He knocked and the door to a residence opened on its own. "Here. This place is yours by order of the Royal." He walked away without further explainion.
Caine and Pomni were still huffing and puffing from the climb. "Holy [%$!#] that was a lot of stairs." Pomni gasped. Her legs felt like noodles.
"I have never missed my ability to fly more in my life. Do you think I could negotiate to at least get that back?" Caine half joked as he followed Pomni inside the residence.
The place was cozy. Large enough for them to stand up straight inside and move around without constantly tripping over things. There was one problem. There was only one bedroom.
"Oh, dear. I guess they bought our love speech a little too much." Caine smiled to himself.
Pomni shrugged. "I can take the couch."
"Wha- absolutely not! Call me an old-fashioned A.I, but I won't let you be the one who takes the couch. You deserve to have that bed all to yourself." He crossed his arms.
"Ha! As if you could stop me."
They locked eyes in a playful glare. She took off and dove for the couch. He caught her from behind and lifted her off her feet.
"Ah! No! Lemme go! That couch is mine!" She smiled.
"Not if I have anything to say about it!" He couldn't hide the laugh in his words.
He took her back into the bedroom and tossed her on the bed. "And stay there!"
"Make me!" She got up and tried to rush passed him.
He grabbed her again and this time he got on the bed with her and held her down. "Stay!"
"Okay." She smiled mischievously up at him and watched his face slowly realize what he'd done. Just like with the hiding situation earlier that day, it hadn't dawned on him right away the situation he was getting himself into.
"You did this on purpose."
"Nooooo, me? I would never." Her voice was so heavily laced with sarcasm, even he couldn't miss it. "I'm having fun with you, Caine. All this 'will you, won't you' gets tiring. Sometimes, you need a push."
"But, I'm not your- I mean, you've never- we never-"
"Caine....you always seem at war with yourself over me. Let me tell you right now: I care about you. You are special to me. And besides, do you really think I can't hear all the things you say under your breath to yourself?"
He looked away, ashamed of himself. "Right..."
"...you're also still on top of me."
Caine's eyes went wide and he looked down at her. "Sorry!" He jumped off of her and fell to the floor.
Pomni slid off the bed and sat on the floor next to him. "I didn't say you had to stop."
Caine shut his teeth and curled up in a ball.
"Caine...you're being ridiculous. Do you believe me when I tell you I really like you?"
He nodded.
"Then what's the issue?"
"You deserve better." He mumbled.
She scoffed. "Better? What could be better than catching the favor of the ringmaster?"
"...someone human."
She cupped the side of his teeth and made him turn towards her. She tapped gently. "Open up." He cracked his teeth so she could just see his eyes. "Caine, when I started to realize how I felt towards you, I asked myself the same question. How am I falling for an A.I? And you know what I figured out?"
"Hm?" He braced himself for bad news.
"I doesn't matter."
His mouth opened more. "It doesn't?"
"No. In a world where the limit is my own imagination... Why couldn't I fall in love with the most amazing person I've ever met? A.I. or not." She took his hand in both of hers and looked him dead in the eyes. "I love you, Caine."
His pupils dilated and his mouth opened all the way. His eyes searched hers and found only truth. He couldn't help but tear up a little. "You know...I wasn't kidding about what I said during the play. I meant every word. Even if I never get my powers back, I have you. I love you too, Pomni. With every pixel of my being. I love you."
She leaned in and kissed his bottom teeth, it was short and sweet. He gasped and felt where she kissed him.
"What? Afraid I left a mark?" She laughed.
He smirked at her. "No, I'm just surprised you gave me permission so quickly."
"Permission to do what?"
"Return the favor." He scooped her up and threw her on the bed in one surprisingly fast motion. Sometimes she forgot how strong he was, even without his powers. He tackled her on the bed and kissed her. Then he kissed her again. And again. And again.
They didn't get much sleep that night.
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blacklegsanjiii · 4 months ago
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So I've had a thinking about mom!robin and child!sanji au and was wonder what are some of your head canons! Maybe robin picked up a 7-8 sanji when she was 16 or 17. This could maybe fit under nico!sanji but where robin actually adopts sanji. Feel free to make as fluffy or as angsty as you want I'm just looking for ideas :)
The first ever Nico!Sanji was them staying together and working in Baroque Works together and she did find him around eight. Instead of sending him to the Baratie to work. However I love the idea of Nico!Sanji and Robin just having a child/parent dynamic of overprotective Robin who found Sanji lost at age eight, starving and alone and she's not in much better shape at age seventeen. Sanji is so small and fits so well into Robin's arms and Robin who hasn't had companionship in so long, he holds her hand or one of them as they walk in deserted parts, when they camp for the night Robin wraps him in many arms and holds him close to her.
I feel like Robin would rarely let Sanji out her sight for years to come, between the Navy and whoever may or may not be after Sanji she likes to play it safe. Sanji is eager to please and follow her every word. She sings to him and tells him stories because she will not lose him like she lost everyone else. Sanji lets her, the first set of soft touches that he's had in years. He still flinches sometimes, involuntarily. It's not that he wants to, afraid he'll offend her or hurt her feelings. That she'll leave him, he doesn't want her to leave him, he likes her a lot! She's so nice and loving and caring, like his mom! He accidentally calls her mom about a year after they start traveling together and when Robin starts crying he thinks he fucked up and apologizes and says he can go! He's been alone before it's fi-!
But she cuts him off and pulls him to her and just says she's happy, hasn't been this happy in a very long time and that she would like it if he wants to keep calling her that. He nods and says he would like to, if she really doesn't mind. They stay sat together for a while and he does get used to calling her 'mom' more often than not. She loves it and smiles so fondly whenever he does it. They're inseparable basically.
When they make it to Alabasta, Sanji is fifteen and Robin is twenty-four, the coup has already happened and they begin to work for Sir Crocodile. Miss All Sunday and Mister Prince working together. It weirds some people out this teenager is calling this woman who definitely isn't actually old enough to be his mom 'mom' and she goes along with it and smiles so fondly to him. Crocodile doesn't bat an eye, the kid cooks well enough to make him not care and Miss All Sunday is on the hunt for Pluton so he really doesn't care as long as he gets results. If anyone does try to pick a fight with Sanji they do have to deal with Robin though, it doesn't happen often but Robin is known for being protective of him.
Sanji still cooks, he cooks for all of Baroque Works when he sees them or they're around and not off fulfilling their duties. He still wants to find the All Blue but he fights with his hands and he listens to Robin as she explains the difference in the poneglyphs to him. Their both multilingual and he knows how to read some of the language the poneglyphs are written in but not all, it's a tricky language to learn to read let alone put together. The other members of Baroque Works tend to tune them out when they start speaking other languages they don't understand, Crocodile sighs in irritation every time it happens.
Sanji is sent to Little Garden to help Mr. 3 ahead of the Strawhat's arrival and he finds it rather interesting that they're helping the princess of Alabasta, finds it hilarious the princess had to get help from pirates but then he watches them take down Mr. 3 and well, it would be nice to have company on the way back to Alabasta so he offers the Ever Pose in exchange for a lift, and he offers to cook for them as well. Only to be roped into the shenanigans of Drum Island and shit is his mom going to be pissed when she finds out he broke his fucking back kicking these idiots out of the way of a fucking avalanche. He's going to be in so much trouble, he's going to get glared at and talked to in several different languages oh no.
When they're in Alabasta, overthrowing his boss for pete's sake, he avoids Crocodile because he'll be in trouble otherwise, great trouble, but Crocodile falls and Alabasta is free. To keep appearances he pulls a gun on Robin on when she boards the ship, him having been fully invited into after Drum Island. She smiles sweetly at them and during the night, during Sanji's watch after the galley is cleaned, she finds him and they speak in a language only they know. She strokes Sanji's hair as he leans his head on her shoulder. No one really clocks it as they sail together, at least not until after Ennies Lobby and Water 7. When they get the Thousand Sunny and Robin is free for the moment and wants to live and has the freedom to live now. I feel like Usopp stumbles upon them sleeping together, just passed out curled up around each other and he fucking tells everyone their dating. Despite the visceral reaction from most of the crew. Robin and Sanji are asked about it at lunch the next day, Franky wiggling his eyebrows and then bawling when they say they're not an item, far from it. Everyone does notice they are close but can't figure out how close. They hear them talking in the other languages and falling into a mix of languages that no one else can understand.
After Thriller Bark and all the parties Sanji finds her and it's rare, he's taller than her now after all, but she pulls him into her lap and cries quietly as she pets his hair. He doesn't say what happened, but she knows he's keeping whatever promise he made to the swordsman but still. She doesn't begrudge him, never, not after what happened with Cipher Pol and Aokiji. Not after working in Baroque Works for a warlord. When he apologizes later she shushes him and makes sure he's calm and the tear stains have calmed before he leaves. She's so soft, still creepy but he's creepy right back. But then everything keeps going wrong and they're separated on Sabaody. The pacifistas, the quick vanishing and appearing in a random place, rushing to get back together, only to fail, only to see the note in the paper, only to rely on whisperings to see how their crew is doing. Ivankov and Dragon seem to be questioning of the relationship between the two of them after their meetings when they have tea with Koala and Robin. Robin simply says Sanji is her son which makes Koala lose it as Iva looks confused and Dragon shrugs it off because yeah, sure.
When they all come back together she checks Sanji over and nods approvingly in private, fussing over him publicly would only lead to the crew questioning them again when that wasn't the case. They could just come out and say it but they don't need to, not right now. Their convictions towards each other are strong and unyielding. Which is why Robin also goes to WCI, she doesn't dissuade Nami from going but does ask that she give Sanji grace. Nami gives her a questioning look but agrees hesitantly. There's so many questions going through her mind but she leaves without asking any, Luffy and them promising to bring Sanji back to them. When the crew is headed to Wano it's Usopp who asks Robin why she asked Nami to give Sanji grace for leaving. Robin clarifies that it's not for him leaving but what he's going to do while gone, what he feels he'll have to do to protect the crew. Zoro asks why she didn't go if she cares so much and Robin says every parent must let their child make mistakes, she's no different and that if she goes she will not listen to Sanji or Luffy and it could end just as badly as Ennies Lobby if she had. When everyone, Heart Pirates included, ask what she means when she said 'parent' she laughs and says she and Sanji's relationship is much more of a mother and her son than siblings, he was so small at age eight that it was easy to fool people while they ran and it became less of an act over time. Franky asks what Sanji would do while he's gone and Robin answers that she wouldn't put much past him, they were in Baroque Works for a while and have been running from the Navy for most of their lives so there's not much they wouldn't do to protect those they care about. Everyone just stares at her and Robin laughs lightly to herself and bids them all a goodnight and goes to bed.
When they're all in Wano again and Sanji is concerned about what Robin will do to him but she simply hugs him and says she's happy he's safe. Sanji nods and hugs her back and Franky is bawling saying it's SUUUPER to see mother and son reunited after everything that has happened which makes the rescue team balk at them in surprise and start questioning them. It's a long and awful conversation because Sanji didn't really tell Robin about his family either. When he's done though Robin simply hums and says it's a good thing she wasn't there because she would have defied his wishes because hell hath no fury like a scorned mother.
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frodothefair · 2 months ago
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Marigold is back! Sort of.
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Image by buffyscmmers.
Ok, so I could not bear to leave Marigold Gamgee behind, even though I'm working on something completely different with The Golden Hall.
As a result, the character of Hafrith, Lothíriel's lady in waiting, has been growing. She is quite similar to Marigold in that she is a sweet and shy, an incredibly competent and loving human being, and has a tragic past (tm). Her faceclaim is also the same, Holliday Grainger. She will likely be the third most important character in the fic, after Éomer and Lothíriel, since her dynamic with Lothíriel will develop the latter's character, and shape Éomer's attitude toward his new wife.
Alright, so who is Hafrith? (Everything that follows is subject to change, of course)
--she has been at the court since she was sixteen, and is now in her mid-20's. She comes from a prominent family in the Eastfold, and is more than just a lady in waiting. In Éowyn's absence, and while Lothíriel finds her feet, she essentially runs the royal household, and knows everything there is to know about Meduseld. In fact, I might just make her Elfhelm's daughter -- I haven't decided yet.
--In the first chapter of TGH, she is described by Lothíriel as looking more fit to herd cows than serve at a royal court, but that was just Lothíriel being a bitch and an unreliable narrator (tm). In fact, Hafrith is beautiful in a rustic way -- she has ample, appetizing curves, a round, sweet face, and a mass of golden curls.
--she is quite maternal toward Ainsie, Éomer's slightly cracked and tragic ward, and in fact is the only person who does not despise or pity the girl. In return, Ainslie becomes devoted to her, heart and soul, and follows her like a shadow.
--like many daughters of prominent families, Hafrith was originally sent to court to find a husband. In fact, early on there was talk of her marrying Éomer, when he was still the king's nephew and far removed from inheriting the throne, but the match did not go forward because Hafrith fell in love with someone else, and because Éomer was too engrossed in saving Rohan from enemies both within and without to think of marriage. However, Hafrith did not get to marry the man she loved either, and a few other tragic things (tm) happened, leading her to foreswear men and marriage forever. At the time of The Golden Hall, Éomer esteems Hafrith greatly, and trusts her with many important tasks. In fact, there is some indication that had the timing been better, and if she had been more willing, they might have been a match, and when Lothíriel learns of this, she laments that Hafrith might have been the better queen -- for she knows Rohan, she knows the court, and she is far more mature and competent, despite her traumas. Éomer, of course, takes this opportunity to reassure Lothíriel that he wants no other queen, and it took King Théoden several years to get used to his new role.
--Lothíriel learns of Hafrith's tragic past (tm), and is incensed, leaping into action to try and set things right -- even if it's years later. Éomer is impressed by Lothíriel's compassion and initiative, which he sees as evidence that she is well enough to look outside herself and make a difference in the world.
--When Lothíriel is angry at her family in Dol Amroth and refuses to answer their letters, Hafrith -- who considers family sacrosanct -- begins to send regular updates to Amrothos, the brother who is closest with Lothíriel and sends the most persistent correspondence asking for news. In time, they start to correspond about more than just Lothíriel. Eventually, Amrothos comes to visit his "petulant sister," as well as discuss trade routes, and he and Hafrith meet in person. Whether this goes anywhere romantic is yet to be decided. Goodness knows, however, after everything she's been through, Hafrith deserves a little happiness of her own, and guess who Amrothos likely resembles, with his dark curly hair, large sea-colored eyes, and a tall, slender physique? (I'll give you a hint -- he tossed the One Ring into a certain fiery chasm).
@konartiste @dilettantefeminist @celeluwhenfics @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @emmanuellececchi
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princeanxious · 4 months ago
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✨️Moondrop progress update #1✨️
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Picture 1 desc/info: knowing that I'd want to make Moondrop once I finished Sundrop, I made sure that(when I remembered to, as I'm learning that i wasn't quite as 100% consistent as I hoped I was) to make traced out references of each finished carved piece so that I wouldn't waste time struggling matching both of their proportions, considering nearly every piece required a duplicate piece to help achieve the eventual 'hollow skeleton' method that I use. Also, this is what I mean when I state that theyre carved from popsicle sticks. If it works, it works. lol
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Picture 2 desc/info: here's the full lineup of every carved piece I have ready for Moondrop so far, and roughly how it will fit together. Every arm piece, leg piece, and even knee joint and the head piece have a duplicate(sans for the detail on the head's piece, obviously, though the headpiece is more complex than that as well). To further expand on why I did this, instead of just having one piece each, I need to point out the arm, hand, and ankle joint pieces. They will not be connected in two places, only one, to achieve full range of movement for the limb that they are attached to.
To achieve this, whilst still trying to keep this project's weight light, I'll create a hollowed skeleton. Essentially where the insides of the limbs(and body) are made hollow via smaller pieces of wood/popsickle stick scraps glued in-between the base pieces, but leaving enough empty space on either side to add two things. One side will have a rolled cylinder of a reinforced cardboard/paper mache combo, to provide a hollowed slot for the long joint piece side to slot into, and the other side, two hollowed holes to slot a dowel through with the joint piece inbetween. (If this doesn't make sense, dw, I plan on taking pictures when I get to that stage to show how I do it)
I also just end up stuffing the remaining 'dead-space' between the carved pieces with paper before i add clay, to further sheer off any unnecessary internal weight. Now, what you couldn't see with my Sundrop, is that by the time I finished adding clay and test stringing him together and started looking at reference photos again for color references, I hadn't realized up until that point that I'd entirely forgotten to add the dca standard wire-hook on his back. Not even superficially. So this will be where project Moondrop(whom at least uses the wire far more than sundrop, lol) will deviate from my original Sundrop design. I might use paper and cardboard to flesh out his limb shapes further before adding clay to make his body even lighter than suns, I've reinforced his torso pieces to account for the hole I'll carve into the back for my goal of a Functional wire-hook, I've made adjustments to his thigh shape for better ease of movement/posability(which might coincidentally make him just a smidgen shorter than Sun by design, shhh) because sundrops leg slots and the actual part of the leg that's supposed to slot in ended up quite a bit out of alignment due to the leg shape lacking a taper at the top to allow for a rounder end. Sundrop's legs are just a little janky bc of it.
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Picture 3 desc/info: this is a look at the inbetween stage that the hip piece goes through, and you'll find that it's not reinforced with wood anywhere simply because of the completely curved surface. There were attempts made with sundrop to do this but they proved to be way too hard to bother with and less than affective with just popsickle sticks. Hense I use cardboard from a soda can box(aka cardboard that's compact and can carry a heavy capacity if the design is balanced and re-attachment points are reinforced properly) and then have so far gone over certain points with paper and glue(using the papermache method) to base reinforce places and also provide more adhesable texture internally. Because, that round piece(also cardboard) is going to sit in the main juncture of the top of the hips. A hole will be cut into it to maintain the ability to string the limbs and body together, and it will be further reinforced further with paper and glue, and later covered in clay- along with the rest of the hips inside and out, thus entirely made smaller than intended to account for the eventual bulk up of the piece. This cover provides a supportive divot in the hips that the middle torso piece can sit in that will give it the range of movement intended but also aid it in allowing the body to sit up straight otherwise(something that was discovered to be needed when working on finetuning sundrop whilst test-stringing, adding yet more weight due to the fix having been made solidly out of clay. Probably provides more support to Sundrop this way, but Moon needs to be as light as possible to prevent stress cracks/damage/balance issues/ect. If I want him to be able to have a functional hook to be used to be displayed with.
On a less technical note, there isn't much to show in the skeleton stage for the middle torso piece bc it's just a hollow cylinder of cardboard, thin enough to escape the bulk, but wide enough to still be strung through. It's just a lil tube for Sundrops frame anyway lol. Though, tbf, I might bulk Moondrops middle with paper/cardboard/whatever I decide, for the, once again, lightweight intention. I use air dry clay but even still it do be solid af when dry and sealed lol
Off camera just inches out of shot of each picture is sundrop, whom has slowly become disrobed and carefully disassembled in places to give me size references for things, but also one of these updates I'll show you how I made his head/face/ ray settup- why? Because it broke. Cuz my dumbass should've used wire and not a wooden dowel to support it all. (Further more, I'm using it as an opportunity to eventually redo Suns rays, because when I did the first set, I went for accuracy in the ray count, but still wanted them to spin freely. But I realized I HATE the gap that's left anywhere if his rays arent perfectly positioned and honestly this mechanism breaking is my sign and chance to fix it now that the rays aren't locked in anymore lol.)
I've decided to give this progress update log the tag '#projectdcadoll' from now on, so any posts I make abt this in the future will have that tag!
And if anyone has any questions about any specifics of the project, I'll also answer them/respond to them under this tag, so please feel free to ask away! I'm excited to share this process with ya'll!
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genderqueerdykes · 2 years ago
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how can someone be a lesbian and a man at the same time? and a traswonan and transman too
hello! thanks for your question!
while people broadly interpret the term lesbian to mean 'woman who loves women', there is a far broader nuance to the identity and label that goes beyond a simple description.
lesbians have a nuanced and complicated experience with gender. butches and femmes both have unique experiences with gender and presentation. nobody likes to talk about us, but some butches *do* identify as men. there are a lot of trans men who start out in lesbian spaces because they are safer, and don't want to leave the community and live as lesbian men. drag kings also are often lesbians. genderfluid lesbians, polygender lesbians, multigender lesbians, genderqueer lesbians, all types of trans lesbians are lesbians regardless of whether or not they are men all the time, or part of the time
lesbians also have a complicated relationship with nonbinary identities and a lot of us find that we fit somewhere under that umbrella. many lesbians find that pushing the boundaries of gender and expression are necessary for survival. i would recommend reading stone butch blues by leslie feinberg to gain a better understanding of lesbians who live this way, or, you are free to visit my lesbian and dyke tags!
as for your second question, i am an intersex person, meaning i was not born with a body that fits into the strict "male" or "female" binary. after i hit puberty i was routinely told i wasn't a "real girl" by someone then told i wasn't a "real boy" by someone else. i was completely stripped of the ability to be gendered correctly by anyone because my body has such a strong mixture of both "masculine" and 'feminine' traits like growing a full beard, having broad shoulders, buff chest, flat breasts, big arms, etc. and an hourglass waist and long shapely legs, high pitched voice, etc.
i am trans "both" or sometimes trans 'everything' as i call myself. my ability to identify as a boy or a girl was completely taken away from me and i am resisting that actively every day. i am a boy and a girl! i'm some type of nonbinary creature, sure, but i am in fact a woman and a man at the same time, but i've had to fight and claw tooth and nail to be seen correctly due to things that weren't under my control.
HRT was kinda my big power move. after i get top surgery and find a good quality packer, i think people will finally understand me and how i identify, but basically, the answer is intersex people, and some other folks can live experiences that make it so they can be both transmasculine and transfeminine at the same time for a multitude of reasons. my experience is just one of many, but it is possible, and we exist!
hope that answers your question! if you need more help, feel free to ask again! take care, stay safe!
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southerngothicchic · 9 months ago
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You're Only Lonely
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I needed to write for this man, so this is part one of what's going to be just a two parter, as of now 🙃
Baron's been driving non-stop for days.
The floor of his newest car is covered in various Moon Pie and fast food wrappers. His hand brushes an empty soda cup as he reaches for the map that had fallen off the passenger seat.
He slowly pulls off the highway, putting the car in park as he drapes the map over the steering wheel. His finger traces along the tattered paper, mentally mapping out all the little side roads that branch off the main one.
He decides on the one that seems the most promising then folds the map the best he can, before tossing it back towards the passenger seat.
In his periphery, he catches his reflection in the rearview mirror and almost doesn't recognize himself. His shorter hair, though now necessary, was going to take some getting used to. After spending so much time as one version of 'Baron,' he wonders what the newest version should be like, sound like, etc. He still has time to figure it out, as it's still quite a drive to the next town.
After putting the car in gear, it's engine roars to life as he speeds off down the worn asphalt.
He rolls into town during the hottest part of the day. Sweat forms on his brow before he quickly wipes it away with the back of his hand. He has both windows rolled down, in an effort to create better air flow, since this car didn't have working A/C.
The lack of a breeze makes the heat almost unbearable as he slowly cruises down what passes for this town's 'Main Street.'
He thinks how he'd do anything for a vanilla ice cream cone when he looks up to see a weathered sign for an ice cream shop, at the end of the street. He says a silent prayer as he parks in front of it. With a boyish smile, he hops out of the car and excitedly goes inside.
He emerges soon after, with prized vanilla cone in hand. He then decides to walk around for a little while, and see what his new home has to offer. He tries, in vain, to eat his ice cream before it melts all over his hand and the cracked sidewalk below.
It's then he notices a storefront with the words 'Antiques and More' printed on the glass. He stops and gawks at the mannequin in the window. It's wearing a tight, leopard print dress, and he's instantly infatuated.
He enters the store, and immediately goes over to where it's displayed. He's able to size it up better now that he's closer and thinks it could possibly fit him. He's too lost in admiration to notice someone walking up behind him.
"Sorry, but you can't have that in here," a voice says, pulling him out of his daydream.
"What?" Baron asks, turning slightly to see you standing there, looking slightly annoyed.
"The ice cream. It's melting all over the floor. Didn't you see the sign?" You continue, pointing to the hand written 'No Food or Drink' sign that was taped to the door.
"Oh, no I didnt," he replies, flustered. "I'm sorry, I'll... be right back."
He quickly exits the store and disposes the sticky cone in a nearby trash can. You watch his hurried actions with a bemused expression. He returns, wiping the excess ice cream on his jeans, while sporting an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, I guess I was too distracted," he laughs.
"Obviously," you reply, also with a laugh. "Though, I totally get it," you begin, taking a step closer to the window display. "This dress is my favorite one in the store."
He follows, watching with rapt attention as you glide your fingertips along it's hemline.
"From what I could tell from the label, and my thorough, yet limited research is that it's from the fifties," you inform, turning your head so your eyes meet his.
The sudden intensity of his gaze has you looking away.
"Its pretty amazing that it's still in such great shape," you continue, with a wistful smile. "Its, like, comforting to see how certain things stand the test of time, you know?"
You glance at him again and he nods. It's then you notice how his damp, white t-shirt clings to his chest and you have to look away again.
He tries to keep from grinning at the faint hint of blush on your cheeks.
"Anyway, um, I feel like I've taken up too much of your time, so I'll let you have a look around," you announce, with a polite smile, taking a step back.
"Its okay, I don't mind," he smiles, in return. "It's been too long since I've really talked to someone, so this is nice."
You allow yourself to gaze into his soft, hazel eyes and almost melt from how he's looking at you.
"Plus, there's so much stuff in here that I'll probably get overwhelmed, so you might need to show me around," he says, strolling past you before turning on his heel, to face you again, making you giggle.
"I think that's the least I can do, since you're my first and only customer I've had all day," you reply, still with a smile.
"I guess its my lucky day, then," he grins.
You spend the next hour or so guiding him around the store, showing him your favorite pieces. He seems genuinely enthralled with everything you say, a smile still present on his lips, as you ramble on about the history of certain items.
As he follows you towards the back of the store, he notices a rack of more presumably vintage dresses, off to the side.
You also notice how his eyes linger on them, which prompts you to ask, "Why were so you interested in that dress in the window? If you don't mind me asking..."
"It, uh, reminds me of someone," he answers.
You nod, and he immediately senses what you really want to know.
"I don't have a girlfriend, if that's what you're wondering," he adds, as you both reach the back corner of the store.
You try to hide your relieved smile when you turn to face him.
"Why would I be wondering about that when I don't even know your name?" You ask, gazing at him innocently.
He moves closer to you, making you step back. Your lower back presses against the rough, wooden edge of cabinet displaying old NASCAR memorabilia. His eyes never leave yours as he braces his hands on either side of you.
He leans in, his sticky sweet breath on your lips as he counters, "Why don't you tell me yours first?"
Normally, you would never let yourself be lured into a situation like this, but this guy was, quite possibly, the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. His alluring nature is impossible to resist.
Your name tumbles from your lips, earning another smile from him.
"Its pretty, just like you," he laments, as the tip of his nose brushes yours.
Your hands grip the wood at your sides, with your nails digging into it, as you desperately want to wrap your arms around him.
He teases your waiting lips with his, as he debates whether or not he wants to tell you his real name or another made-up one.
He brings his hand up to your cheek, his thumb lightly caressing your skin, as he whispers, "I'm whoever you want me to be."
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sir-subpar · 1 year ago
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Blitzo
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All right! Redesigned/reimagined Blitzo.
So, heres the thing, I don't hate his current design, but I don't love it either.
Under the cut I will talk more
Alright, Blitzo. Biy do I have some thoughts on Blitzo.
I do love the idea of a failed clown turning into an assassin. I love the idea of an assassin from hell slaughtering people that sinners pay him to. I like the idea that this is his way of proving others wrong and trying to redeem himself. Him not wanting to be a failure anymore is a decent idea for a character.
The issues I have:
His treatment towards other characters. I am not opposed to him being an asshole. I like characters who start off terrible but then become good people through consequences and change in Behavior. But blitz's Behavior doesn't actually change for the better in the show. It's more like everyone around him changes to justify everything that he does.
Stalking your employees? Barely addressed.
Setting your best friend on fire? And insulting and guilttripping said friend in a half-assed apology? Apparently good enough.
Stealing from your girlfriend? (I have thoughts on Verosika too, I'll get to her at some point). It brought up in maybe two conversations and never again.
My big issue here isn't so much that Blitz is a bad person as much as the fact that there's no consequences for him except for when the plot demands it. And then said consequences go away an episode later. Especially if we're meant to sympathize with him.
I hate this line. So much. This is one of those times where you can't really redeem a person. Not when they say something like this:
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Anyway, back to the design.
Once again, like usual with Viv, there's too much red.
It's kind of easy to lose track of details in his design.
His feet are just really weird to me. Why are they shaped like shoes? His heels are really weird
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As mentioned in some of my concept sketches, I feel like if he survived a fire that did *this* to fizz
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It should have done more damage to Blitzo. Hence why I made him blind in one eye
I gave him fingers similar to his sister Barbie wire, it just looks better to me. And since they're twins I think it makes sense. Once again, I will do her design as well soon
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I do keep his striped horns, as I feel like it makes sense for him to have them with the whole ex clown thing, but since a lot of the other characters aren't clown based they won't get the same stripes on their horns. I know Viv said that hell is like a circus, but it so rarely comes up outside of the jester designs that I decided to omit that in my rewrite
I really want to lean into the idea that he goes through change and improves his behavior bit by bit. With little hints of his soft side towards the beginning, that comes out more clearly as time goes on. Him learning something different from each character
He could learn to take accountability from fizz. Learn professionalism and good business practices from Moxxie. Learn boundaries from his daughter Loona. Etc.
I made him pink as I've heard a few ideas floating around that he might be part succubus or part lust imp and I think that fits him.
And finally... the elephant in the room. Where does Stolas come in?
Look. The way it's portrayed in the show, I don't like it. I liked Stoas better in the pilot. He was just a rich 1% who did what he wanted regardless of who it hurt. I like the idea of that for an antagonist. Blitzo uses him, he uses Blitzo. They both did things for selfish gains.
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I also liked the idea that he would send IMP on hit jobs as well. That would have been really interesting to see in the show
I will discuss more about their Dynamic when I do stolas's design. I will give some quick bullet points for now
Blitzo and Stolas don't fall in love.
Stolas constantly holds the grimoire over Blitzo's head to get what he wants. He knows Blitzo's business and livelihood depends on it and he takes full advantage of it.
Blitzo doesn't want to be Shackled to the prince, but doesn't see any other options until Striker appears (again, I will explain that when I get to it).
He resents stolas (and himself) for being trapped in this arrangement
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deerspherestudios · 2 years ago
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How do you organise the process of creating a character? like, to me its too confusing, i dont know what i do first because there are TOO MANY THINGS TO DO, like backstory, personality, looks, what they like, so what would be the “steps” to make them?
(Since @isabellaswork asked the same thing recently I'm tagging you here, hope that's okay!) Omg I'm flattered I'm the person you'd wanna ask such a big question ;v;!!? Honestly the process is different for everyone, but I'll give it a go <3 This is how my process usually goes:
Personality first, backstory later. Flesh out the concept of the character before deciding their origin story if that makes sense.
Build a moodboard for your character! The more ideas the better!
Time for visuals! Sketch out multiple iterations, looking at the moodboard for inspiration. Colors go last.
Finalize! Once you've got your final sketch + colors, draw a proper illustration and see if you vibe with the design. Repeat previous steps if necessary <3
Extra: Since you've got the design and story down, add some fun facts. This is where interests, likes and dislikes go!
I'll use my VN characters as examples below in case someone wants it in more detail! Mychael (Mushroom Oasis) and Alma (Lift Your Spirits spoilers!! + horror imagery) process ideation under cut:
Usually I start with personality first. Because for me, when you first meet someone, you see what they're like in the present; their past doesn't matter as much until you get to know them. I can decide the backstory later so it doesn't limit the personalities I'm playing around with. Of course I must have gotten the idea from somewhere so these two things work in tandem most of the time.
Then it's just a matter of how they look!
After deciding on personality traits, I start by collecting references from everywhere, even the smallest of things. I think of how I want them to look plus how they would dress. Anything goes at this stage, so just go buck-wild gathering ideas!
Here's a moodboard for Mychael:
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This one was for Alma, from their normal self to their monstrous self:
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Then it's time for drawing and doodles. As I sketch, I look back at the moodboard I've made and pick out things I like, while drawing things really loose. Copy paste if I need to!
I've shared the ones for Mychael here, here and here! Here's some sketches for Alma from last year:
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This part takes the longest but is always the most fun! Don't feel limited by what you had initially, just test out ideas! Here are the final designs!
Mychael(s):
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Alma(s):
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Then once I'm happy with the design I can flesh out the backstory as much as I like!!! so long as it fits the presentation of the character in current time. Of course this process can differ when you already have a story in mind and need characters to carry out the plot, but I'm definitely not big-brain enough to make an all-out story like that </3 I just enjoy designing characters visually haha
Oh and just for fun, I like to sprinkle in some extra (but kinda unnecessary) background info. It can be the most mundane thing but it gives them more life (to me at least!) Maybe they drink flat orange soda, or enjoy riding trains at night, or hate the smell of french fries, or think apples are disgusting etcetcetc.
Of course there's like, tips for professional character designing like silhouette, shapes, proportions but I assume this ask was for a more casual approach <3 That's all I could think of if I were to describe my process,,, I hope that answers your question!
To recap:
Start with personality traits and decide backstory later. Or work them together as one. It's more concept than visuals at this stage.
Assemble a moodboard for inspiration. The more ideas the better! Look up anything that might relate to your character if it helps.
Sketch, sketch and sketch again! Keep things loose and free. I usually start from the face, to clothes to accessories. Colors go last.
Finalize! Put everything together in one rendered drawing, and see if you vibe with it. You can always go back to previous steps if you're still not happy with it.
And you're done! :-)
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fourlittleocto · 1 year ago
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i'm really bad at headcanons in general so i'm sorry if these are not good, but thank you for the ask! also with midterms i've been super busy so i hope everyone can keep being patient with me, i promise i am working on asks it just might be another week <3
starting with some cute ones (thank you @pyrefection)
dew loves to rub soft stuff on his face. if the closest soft thing happens to be a person, so be it. he doesn't want them to touch him, just let him hold their hand and rub it over his face. this always somehow turns into their fingers in his mouth, since they're softer and nicer than his
with that thought, even though he doesn't need to teethe he still wants to stick everything in his mouth, just to see what it's like. some sort of instinct. however his fear of getting in trouble trumps this need, which means he'll spend way longer than most cgs have patience for crawling over to objects that look good, holding them up, and then pouting when he's told no, he can't put that in his mouth until it either has to be pried out of his weirdly strong grip or mountain (because let's be honest he thinks this is adorable and is the only one who actually tolerates it) gives in and let's him put it in his mouth "but just once dewbug!" it's better that he's doing this when someone's watching anyway, and then he'll never need to try again
dew loves to draw and hates coloring. he doesn't like that he can't control his hands enough to keep it in the lines, especially since little rain is a little ocd and always gives him judgemental stares when they color together. he loves to draw though, and even though they're usually just colorful squiggles aurora (his new favorite caregiver) has taught him how to draw some shapes and to associate certain colors with certain emotions, so he feels like he can communicate when he's drawing and it's really relaxing to his troubled brain
i also love moonbeam's hc that tiny dew loves to clap. it's a movement that's easy, and it's small and loud just like he is, and he knows how to clap sarcastically to get a laugh. whenever anyone in the pack does something stupid he claps and giggles, and it sends aurora into a laughing fit every time.
i put some stuff about dew's childhood/regression under the cut cause it's a little heavy/sad so feel free to skip it
just as background, i think dew goes really small, like usually he can't walk or talk but sometimes he can get as big as 3, where he's toddling, but even then he can't talk cause as a child his parents refused to talk to him so he didn't learn to until he was interacting with other kits. It's part of why now he's really slow at reading and gets frustrated when he has to describe something cause words just don't come easily to him. it's also the reason that when he's tiny he likes to hide, he doesn't want anyone to see him so vulnerable so they can't use it against him. (however, this has made him incredible at hide and seek. one of the older littles or aurora will hold him and follow where he points and they always win)
he also can't drop on purpose, it's entirely trauma/stimuli-based. i definitely think it's something that started for him after the elemental change, but no one except mountain knew about it until aurora was summoned. She mothered him about his attitude while he was big enough times that one night, while in the middle of a bad flashback, he babbled something just coherent enough for mountain to know he was asking for her, so now they trade off taking care of him and know who he needs based on what happened/what kind of mood he's in (it's always bad, but sometimes it's MUCH WORSE than others, and aurora has to take him when he's specifically having elemental change flashbacks cause mountain still has too much attachment to the events and they trigger flashbacks for him too)
either way, since aurora has joined the pack she's helped dew not feel so scared about being small, to the point where even if he can't be with a group of adults, he's able to sit with her and watch little rain and phantom and cumulus play. she's also slowly teaching him to do things that 1 to 2-year-olds are supposed to be able to do, and it's helped him feel like he has a lot of control over it even if he still can't control the action of his mind dropping.
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arvensimp · 2 years ago
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your father should know pt. 1
Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.
arven x reader, nsfw content, pregnancy, angst, and stupid miscommunications'
~
Champagne was poured freely, toasts were made, songs were sung. Everyone laughed and cried in near equal measure, and they hugged and kissed and made promises to keep in touch and talk soon and "not to be a stranger!" and "tune in every week!"
For his part, Arven blushed and drank it in almost as well as he drank in the champagne. He's never gotten used to being the center of attention. With stellar professor parents and a best friend who sits near the top of the Paldean Pokemon League, he's always been...just Arven. Just some guy. Not a nobody, but...well, if the shoe fits.
No, no! He can't think like that. He's amazing in his own ways. Hell, everyone gathered like this because of him.
An apprenticeship with one of the most famous celebrity chefs of Kalos at their marketing institution as well! He'd be gone for a year, learning from the best of the best of the best, touring the region, doing podcasts and making weekly videos. All of it would revolve around making food that would make people and pokemon happy and healthy. It was like a dream.
He wasn't totally sure at first... After all, he'd never left the region, but then again maybe an adventure was just what he needed? That's what you'd told him anyway, looking up at him with your sparkling eyes that made his stomach twist in knots.
Paldea wasn't really his home anyway. (Could he even say he ever had a home?) Go see the world! He's young and untied now, so why not? It'll be like the treasure hunt from back during school but even better.
So he agreed and got to preparing while you and all of your friends got to planning his goodbye party.
He'd be off in the morning, and at this point nearly everyone had left his flat, staggering or taking cabs home.
Everyone but you.
You and Arven.
Arven and you.
The original buddies.
Alone on the L-shaped sofa, lounging, head-to-head at the crook of it. Arven's hand is still holding a half-finished bottle of champagne that drags across the wooden floor. Both of your hands are folded across your ribcage. 
He exhales a long puff of air that blows his bangs from his eye.
"Have you had too much to drink over there?" You ask. Even without looking Arven can hear the smile on your lips.
"Nah..." He grunts a bit as he rolls over onto his side. "Barely a buzz at this point, honestly." And it's true. A man of his size usually needs a fair amount of alcohol to really get lost in it, especially when they've eaten as much as he has this evening. "Just...thinkin' I guess."
"Yeah?" You roll over as well. Neither of you are facing each other, but if you crane your necks you could see one another’s faces. "Gimmighoul coin for your thoughts?"
He chuckles. "That's a mouthful. You know you can just say 'penny' right? Like we have those."
You blow a raspberry, and Arven laughs harder.
"Now who's the one who's had too much to drink?" He asks.
"Hey!" You stop, mock-serious. "I'm your driver to the airport tomorrow. You know I won't be hungover for that, so clearly I haven't had too much tonight."
Arven snorts and lifts a hand to pat affectionately on your head, but he misses phenomenally, smushing your face instead. The two of you erupt into giggles, rolling over onto your stomachs as you do, so you can more easily sit up to look at one another from your separate legs of the sofa.
The laughter quiets naturally.
Arven knows he loves you. He has for a long time, but he's just never been able to say it. The words can't come out. He's tried to show it every other way he can, so it mostly comes out as food and snacks given to you whenever he can muster it up, and you don't seem to be any the wiser. You always just smile up at him with those same sparkling eyes. It's maddening and dizzying and infuriating and enamoring all at once.
And you're smiling at him like that now.
And then you're leaning in.
He's leaning in, too.
It takes nothing for your lips to meet. There are no fireworks, no crackles of electricity, no orchestra that plays some swelling love song in his head.
You're just kissing, and it's perfect. You only part to actually sit up, so the two of you aren't stuck in a cobra-pose on the couch forever, but in that brief moment of adjustment, you're both blushing, scooting closer to one another, each lifting one knee up to stay on the couch while the other bends down to the floor.
You won't look at each other, but your fingers find one another, interlocking tightly.
"I-I--" Arven starts, getting ready to apologize, but he isn’t sure why.
"Will you do that again?" You ask over him.
His jaw drops as he looks down at you. "Yeah... Absolutely."
He leans in, and you're kissing again, with Arven hovering over you, large and unimposing and wonderful. With the angle, it's more than easy for the two of you to just keep falling further down, down, down, until he's properly on top of you, pressing one of your legs bent at the knee against the back of the sofa while your other foot trails lightly against the floor, knocking against Arven’s discarded champagne bottle.
Arven's hand that isn't holding yours is in your hair, his nails scratching lightly at the back of your neck. When the action makes you gasp into him, he takes the initiative to deepen your kiss, grazing his tongue along your lower lip before it explores further into your mouth.
You meet him eagerly, rolling your body up to meet his as your free hand scratches lightly down his still-clothed back. 
Arven hums into you and breaks the kiss to sit up. He grips the lower hem of his shirt and gives you a questioning look, only proceeding to remove the garment when you've enthusiastically nodded, biting your lip to hold back eager giggles.
"God, you look so good..." You tell him, running your hands up and down his torso once he's bare, making him shiver and blush all at once.
"C-C'mon..." He says, not meeting your eye but still going on to continue kissing you in a way that has you happily obliging. 
Seconds, minutes, or hours could have passed like that between the two of you, just kissing, and you wouldn't have been any the wiser, but eventually one of Arven's hands grows daring, skirting just along the edge of your top, tickling at the skin of your abdomen there with its pervading warmth before moving up and behind your back. You sit up just the tiniest bit, nipping at his mouth before breaking off the kiss, so you can properly remove your top and bra for him.
"You...uh, this is what you wanted, right?" You ask with a nervous laugh, and Arven's too busy trying not to stare at your tits. He just nods kinda dumbly in the way that men often do, leaning in to kiss you again, so you don't have to watch as he paws and squeezes at you, tweaking at your nipple in a way that gets you gasping his name, which, fuck... Arven didn't think his name could sound so good.
He tears himself from your mouth to kiss and bite at your breast while one of his hands kneads the other. 
You squirm beneath his ministrations, gasping in delight at his touch.
It takes very little before you're grinding against him, purposefully pulling your leg up and over his hip for better leverage to rut against the growing hardness in his pants.
"Fuck," Arven groans, pulling his mouth off your tit in a way that has you hissing in pleasure as he dips his forehead to rest between your breasts. "Keep doing that, and I'm gonna cum in my pants, damn..."
"And what if that's what I want?" You tease him as you continue, feeding into the growing wetness between your thighs.
Arven barks a light laugh from his place at your chest, one of his hands squeezing your hip right at the apex where your body meets leg. "I'd think that wouldn't be very fun for you?" As he speaks he rolls his hips into yours, purposefully grinding against your center, making you moan just the tiniest bit.
"See?" He continues, egging you on in the best way. The hand at your hip travels inward, bit by nervous bit. "I-If you want, I mean?"
You nod almost frantically with a "Yes, please!" and Arven has to stop himself for a moment, his hand paused right at the seam where your inner thigh meets your panties, your skirt having been rolled up ages ago.
He looks at you, tries to memorize the way your hair splays out beneath you, the flush of your cheeks, the way your eyelashes fan out against them when your eyes close, your fingers grasping for purchase against the fabric of his sofa. It's all being committed to memory.
He shifts his fingers, tensing them against you just a bit before you can make any sound of impatience or discomfort at his hesitancy... Not hesitancy. No. He... He wants to savor this.
Slowly he moves, hooking his fingers beneath the elastic of your panties, maneuvering you just enough to get the article along with your skirt off and discarded somewhere on the floor. Then his hands are back on you again in an instant.
"Fuck," He whispers under his breath, half astounded as he stares down at you. "You're dripping for me..." 
You wriggle your hips a bit, and he slips a single digit between your folds. The tightly coiled arousal in your stomach rolls through you, your toes curling in anticipation at just that simple touch.
"Fuck, Arven..." It's soft the way you say it. You grasp his wrist, not stopping him, just holding him there, as if he'd ever dare to leave.
He lets his finger drag upward just a bit, just so he can find--
You keen softly, rolling your hips against his hand, silently pleading him to focus there.
"I've got you..." He says softly, leaning back in to capture your mouth again, biting gently at your lower lip while you grind against his single finger stroking small circles around your clit. 
"Fuck...fuck that's nice..." You groan against Arven's mouth, making him smile against you, renewing his efforts.
"You like that?" He asks, and it barely feels like teasing, especially when you so eagerly nod your enthusiasm to him.
"Hmm, god… More, please?"
Arven hums, continuing his pace just a bit longer before he lets his finger dip lower to press just at the edge of your entrance. When you roll your hips against him to fuck his finger into you, he lets it slip inside as you sigh, contented.
"Shit, you're so tight around just this one... Damn..." He tells you fondly as he starts to piston the digit slowly to match your pace before adding a second into the mix.
You moan lowly.
"K-keep going like that, fuck..." You tell him in a raspy, breathy voice.
"Yeah? Whatever you like," Arven tells you, adjusting his position above you just a bit, so he can lean a bit more on one of his knees, freeing up his other hand, so it can go to play with your clit.
The dual stimulation has you writhing and squirming almost instantaneously. Your moans turn high and needy real quickly from there, and within a minute or two, your vision goes white behind your eyes as your cunt pulses erratically around Arven's fingers with your orgasm washing over you.
It isn't until you pant a fucked-out "E-enough, enough...slow..." That he finally drags his fingers from your core, dripping with your essence.
He's so lost in the moment, internally congratulating himself on actually making you cum, that he jolts when he feels your hands on the button to his pants.
"Oh." You say, pulling back. "Sorry. Uh... Did... Did you not..?"
"No!" He says, too loud, then clears his throat and tries again, softer. Fuck, you're beautiful like this. 
"I-I mean. I. I do. I want to. I just." He looks bashful. "Uh... I don't have any condoms? I can-- I mean, I'll go buy some. If you want." 
You shrug. "Don't worry about it. I'm on the pill, and you can pull out to be extra safe?"
He nods. "If you're sure."
You nod.
Arven sighs, nodding again, partly to himself, then his hands go to his fly, and--
"Can I?" You ask, sweet as candy, and how can Arven do anything but nod and let his hands fall to the side as he watches you? 
Your touch is featherlight as you free his cock from his boxer briefs; all Arven needed to do was lower his pants just a bit further down his hips. When you grasp him fully, Arven hisses between his teeth, resisting the urge to fuck your fist. 
He lowers himself back down, and you purposefully and delightfully catch the tip of his cock along your clit as you lube him up before lining him to your entrance.
Arven looks at you, catching those sparkling eyes, still gleaming even in the low light of the evening. He rolls his hips forward, and you meet him halfway, the pair of you groaning in complete satisfaction at the union.
Just a moment later, after you've both adjusted, he starts to move, properly fucking you, balancing his weight on his forearm on the couch's armrest above your head. His eyes flutter closed, and he groans, cursing softly under his breath.
You match his pace as best you're able given the amount of room you have, hooking a leg over his hips to draw him into you deeper in a way that has you both moaning low, foreheads pressed together.
"F-feels so good..." You tell him breathily. Part of you considers snaking a hand down between you to toy with your clit again, but Arven must have read your mind because you feel his warm hand trailing up along your hip to squeeze in, pressing up just above where the two of you are joined. His thumb rolls your clit, applying just enough pressure that you jolt beneath him, losing your sense of rhythm, along with almost any other senses you have beyond your unwavering need for more of him and his fucking hands on you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Arven," You chant like a stupid prayer, tucking your head into his shoulder. "Like that, please. Don't stop. Fuck. Please."
Arven smiles and kisses your temple, riding the high of the power trip. "Wouldn't dream of it..." He can't help the jolt of arousal that goes straight to his cock when you say things like that. Fuck. And the way you squeeze around him? He has to put a real, concerted effort into his ministrations or else he'd absolutely be blowing his load inside you, especially when your walls flutter like that? He could die like this and be a happy man, he knows it.
He's so wrapped up in his thoughts that it nearly startles him when you suddenly still, a moan caught halfway out your throat as your cunt squeezes him like a vice for a long, long moment before it starts rhythmically fluttering in time with your heart. Your head is tossed back as you cum around his cock, and--
And fuck, he needs to cum. Now. His hips stutter to a halt while he’s inside you, and he exhales slowly through his nose, letting you ride out your orgasm around him while he does his absolute best to hold on. As soon as he feels you've stilled somewhat, he pulls out, and just that motion, that friction, has him cumming ribbons that paint your stomach as he jerks himself through the remainder of it, panting with the effort it took to hold on for so long.
You watch him through your lashes, still trying to steady your own breath, shivering at the sensation of his hot cum lining stripes along your abdomen.
You sigh in time with Arven as he seems to finally calm, and the two of you stay silent for what feels like an eternity until eventually he hauls himself up with a grunt.
"Lemme, uh... I'll take care of that." Arven says noncommittally as he quickly moves to the kitchen where you hear him shuffle around and turn the faucet on.
When he returns, it's with a warm, wet cloth to wipe away the mess he's made of you, which he does meticulously and methodically. You shiver at his gentle touch.
"Uh... Sorry..." He says softly.
The absolute absurdity of it makes you laugh, bright and high. "Sorry? For the best sex I've probably ever had?" You stretch out on the sofa like a persian. "Please. You've just given me..." You yawn. "So much more...to look forward to...when you get back." You look back to him. "I-I mean... Uh. If. If this is...something you want?"
Arven drops to his knees to be at your level, looking at you with wide eyes.
"It is! I-I mean definitely! Yeah! Definitely. If you want. Yeah..." He gets this goopy, lovestruck look on his face that's so beyond endearing that you can't help but lean over to kiss him again.
"Good."
-
The next day, the two of you arrive at the airport hand in hand, and before you kiss goodbye, you promise to keep in touch, message as often as you can (as roaming fees allow) and that you'll see each other soon. 
You watch Arven go through security, and when he's done, he waves from behind the glass, not taking his eyes from you until he's literally too far away.
If you cry a little bit on your way home, 'Raidon doesn't seem to tease you for it along the road.
-
With Arven gone, life basically continues as it had, albeit you're definitely feeling emptier. You continue work with the Pokémon League, performing basic research tasks for Jacq, and battling with Nemona to stay sharp. Every chance you get, you watch or listen to whatever videos get posted by the team Arven is working with, hoping for just a blip of him! Any time you see him, you comment and talk about how cute and handsome he is and how they should definitely show more of that cute guy with the two-toned hair. You giggle every time, hoping it helps some.
This particular morning, several weeks later, you and Nemona are outside Mesagoza, battling as you usually do, when a wave of nausea suddenly overtakes you.
You don't throw up or pass out, but the distraction of it keeps you from commanding your partner effectively, giving Nemona a leg up.
"Off your game today, eh?" She taunts you lightly from across the field.
You try to laugh, but you think you can literally feel the color draining from your face. You command Tinkaton to retaliate with a Gigaton Hammer, but then the world goes black around you.
Nemona's at your side in an instant (or is it longer than that?), panting with the effort it took to get to you so fast. Tinkaton and Goodra are also scurrying over with worried looks on their faces. "Hey! Hey, you okay?" She asks, holding up your head in her lap.
"What...?"
"You just dropped like a corviknight outta the sky, bestie. You've got me worried."
You shut your eyes tight and breathe through another wave of nausea.
"Yeah, I don't like whatever's happening." Nemona tells you. "Can you stand? I'll take you to the doctor."
More realistically, 'Raidon takes you to the doctor, and Nemona hangs around for moral support. She knows you've been kinda poorly since Arven left anyway, so she correctly guesses that you don't really want to be alone if you're about to go through a health crisis or something.
The two of you chat together while you wait for the results of your blood work and urinalysis to come back. The folks at the clinic had given you some fluids and told you to stay off your feet for a now for fear of another fainting spell, so you were basically stuck for a minute.
When the doctor returns, she asks if you'd like Nemona to stay while she gives you your results. The doctor doesn't seem terribly morbid or worried about anything, so you figure it can't be that bad, right?
You look to Nemona and smile, taking her hand.
"If that's okay?" You ask her.
Nemona smiles and nods, squeezing back.
The doctor returns your grins. "Since that's the case, let me go ahead and confirm your pregnancy, Miss."
Your brow furrows, and the edges of your vision go blurry like you're going to pass out all over again, and suddenly the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own blood pumping in your ears.
Everything looks so far away. Distantly, you know you're still holding Nemona's hand, but somehow it's as if your arm has stretched across the room and she's floating further and further from you. You can't even register what she looks like. What sort of face she must be making at you.
Whatever else happens at the clinic from there, you cannot recall. Obviously you must have said something or reacted in some way. You just know that Nemona brings you home with vitamins and appointment cards for follow up visits with different doctors for whatever route you decide to take.
She spends the night with you, curled up in a cuddle puddle with you and all of your pokemon, petting your hair softly as she sings something terribly out of tune but still soothing. She doesn't force anything out of you, knowing you'll tell her when you're ready.
That's how Nemona becomes the first person you tell about Arven and what you did. You spill everything to her the next morning as you cry into a bowl of sugary cereal, and she just rubs your back lovingly, spooning cornflakes into her mouth.
"So... What's the next step?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like... Are you going to tell him? Do you wanna keep it in the first place?"
"Geez, Nemona! That's a little direct."
"What?!" She puts her hands up placatingly.
"Of course I'm gonna tell him. Can you imagine if I didn't? I feel like that'd break his heart... He deserves to know. And I mean..." You look down. Of course you're not showing yet it's way too early. In some other world this would be where you put a hand on your lower abdomen and fantasize for a moment about it all, building a family, a bouncing baby and a husband and a white picket fence. But for some reason, you can't bring yourself to do it. That would make things a little bit too real for what you're willing to handle right now. But even then. "I-I wanna talk to him first. I...think I want to do this... But... He should have a say too, right?"
Nemona puts a hand on your shoulder. "Your word is most important, if you ask me."
You take a moment to breathe. "Yeah. I'm gonna tell him. I gotta talk to him first before deciding anything else."
And then you don't.
Or. Well. You try. You really do!
Thing is, it's really difficult to get a hold of Arven since he's been abroad. Your texts are sporadic at best.
Part of you just considers waiting. After all, he's off doing something really wonderful for himself. He's living his dream! Becoming an amazing man and making things happen for himself! He spent his entire life until now doing things for other people, waiting on his parents to come home, acting as an errand boy before finding out what had happened, then caring for Mabosstiff... 
How could you call him to come home over something like this? That would be horrible of you. He needs to be able to do something for himself, and living his dream in Kalos is it!
But...he definitely deserves to know. He would want to know, wouldn't he?
You have to tell him.
So eventually you shoot Arven a message.
-hey! wanna video chat tonight?
-What time? I've got some stuff going on this evening, plus a pretty packed schedule in the morning, but I'd love to see you!
-oh! well maybe some other time then
-Ok ❤️
....And then a few days go by...
Fuck!!!!! Why are you like this???
You send him a picture of Tinkaton on top of 'Raidon another time which Arven laugh-reacts at, making your heart go all fluttery.
-wanna call tonight? i miss you
-I miss you too, buddy! Let's plan for it.
But then the time of your call comes and goes, and you end up falling asleep waiting for the phone to ring, your ??? texts having gone unanswered.
Finally a few days later you just call him one evening. You're getting too antsy and nervous, and you have to get this thing off your chest and/or uterus.
The phone rings several times, and when he finally picks up, you hear the sound of shuffling, then Arven whispering.
"What's going on?" He asks, soft but harsh. "I'm kinda in the middle of a thing. Is everything okay?"
"Uh..." I missed you. I'm so sorry. I'm kinda carrying your baby right now, and I'm so sorry but I think I'm going to crush your dreams by asking if you want to come home to be with me to raise it together? Is that even a thing that you want? Your mouth goes dry, and your stomach twists in knots. Now absolutely isn't the time for nausea, but when is?
"You there?" Arven asks, sounding a bit more annoyed.
"Y-Yeah. Sorry..." You finally respond after swallowing back a lump in your throat. "I just... I..."
You hear more shuffling on the other end and Arven's voice calling out to whoever else must be around him. "Hey, give me a minute, I need to take this!" Then some more sounds of what you imagine must be him going somewhere more secluded. "What's going on? Did something happen?"
"Uh..." Fuck fuck fuck. You have to tell him. "I-I just... I miss you."
You hear him exhale a sigh over the phone, but you can't tell if it's fond or exasperated. "Miss you, too. Is something going on?"
"Everything's okay, no one's dying or anything," Quite the opposite in fact. "I just... I wish I could see you..." Not what you wanted to talk about. Come on. Spit it out! "Uh... Will you maybe be able to take a weekend off or something soon? Maybe come and visit?"
Arven chuckles a bit. "I wish I could see you, too! But no, they're keeping me pretty busy here, but it's in the best way! I can't tell you how much I'm learning! The stuff I'm working on, it's beyond anything I've ever even imagined! Plus they're talking about maybe starting a new program, and they're going to need talent." 
Your heart contorts in your chest. He's having such a nice time...
"I'm...I'm so happy for you." You finally squeak out.
"Yeah!" Arven ends up going on a mini-rant about a bunch of new techniques he's learning, and your heart melts. You don't even realize tears are silently streaming down your cheeks until Arven interrupts himself with a "Shit! Sorry. I totally forgot about filming. I gotta go. Talk to you later!"
He hangs up before you can even say bye.
In the end, you force yourself to text him. You clearly can't break the news out loud, and he has to know. 
You wait until just after the work day ends, figuring that would be the ideal time to tell him, so he isn't at work, and he won't have to worry about it during a work day, and also you're not interrupting him in the middle of a nap or something, and he can call you to talk, since.....yeah he's probably going to want to talk.
Hey! I know this isn't ideal, and I really would have rather said it in person or over a face call or even just a regular call, but I think you need to know, and I'm having a really hard time verbalizing it to you. I'm sorry to do it this way, but it's better to say it now than not at all, right?
I'm pregnant, and it's yours.
I'm so, so, SO sorry! I promise I didn't mean for it to happen like this, and I'm not trying to like…baby trap you or something. I swear! You're my best friend in the whole world, and I'm so happy that you can go and live your dream in Kalos right now. But I just feel like you should know? Like you should have a say in what happens here? I'd love to talk to you. Do...do you want to do this? Because....well if you're willing I'd want to try this. With you. But I also know that you're living your dream right now, and I don't want to get in the way of that! I want you to be able to really embrace this new journey you're taking and learn and grow and do wonderful things! But I just wanted you to know, you know? Please don't hate me. Just give me a call when you have a minute, and we can figure this out. Okay?
You hit send and then wait.
It took nearly all of your bodily strength not to add "I love you" to the end of the message. You'd never said it out loud to each other before. Sure... You wanted to tons of times before now, but it just never happened, so it just didn't feel right to put it in a text first.
Yeah, telling someone you're pregnant with their kid via text also isn't really kosher, but you can only break so many rules at once.
You check your phone.
Nothing.
He may just be busy.
It's fine. You just need to be patient.
So you make yourself some food, play a bit with your pokemon. You think they can pick up on the change in you. Even Tinkaton seems a little less feral around you lately, which is kinda wild.
You cozy up to Skeledirge, running your fingers across his bony nose.
Still no reply. 
You turn your phone off and on again just to see if maybe that does something? Like it'll reboot your messages?
Nothing.
"Fuuuuuuck!" You groan, kicking your legs petulantly, startling Skeledirge off the sofa with you.
TV isn't much of a distraction, and neither is social media, really, but you try to watch a few videos, read a few articles. Hell, you even answer some work emails in an attempt to distract yourself from the silence of your phone.
You check it before you shower, and there's no response.
The warm water doesn't do anything to quell your nerves, and you're about ready to have a panic attack by the time you dash back to the phone, still in your towel, your hair dripping all over the floor, and there are no notifications waiting for you.
You try to calm yourself with some steadying breaths.
Who knows what might be happening? His phone might have died during the day! He may have accidentally left it at home! Maybe your message didn't even go through fully!
You sneak another peak at your messaging app to be sure, but...
Well, it... It actually looks like your message has been read.
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
He's seen it.
Cool.
Just.
Just give him a minute to process it. He'll probably call or message you back as soon as he can.
Except he doesn't.
You fall asleep on the sofa that night, clutching your phone in one hand, waiting for any kind of acknowledgement from Arven.
Wakefulness takes you with a jolt, and you actually drop the device with the rotom inside narrowly preventing it from shattering on the floor.
It floats back up to you, and you open your messages again.
Except, now it's saying your message from last night is unread? But that couldn't be... You saw the read notification and even made a note of the time.
You try to call Arven. It's early enough that he shouldn't be at work yet.
The phone doesn't even ring before you hear an automated "We're sorry. The number you're trying to reach is no longer in service."
Did...did he block you? No. He wouldn't do that, would he?
That's...that's not like him at all, and you know it.
Right?
You restart your phone and try again, but it's the same thing.
Maybe...maybe he did block you.
You curl up a bit.
Something has to be wrong, right?
You'll give it a minute.
Eventually you give in and decide that the best way to contact Arven is going to have to be through the agency he's working with. Someone there can get you in touch, right? Like, at least get you some closure?
You wait until the Kalosian work day has started before you call, and when the line picks up, the voice on the other end is some peppy sounding woman. You introduce yourself and tell her you're trying to get in touch with Arven, that you're a friend from home.
She repeats your name back to you then says "...And you wanna talk to Arven..." She pauses on the other line. "Y'know, I don't think he's in yet this morning. Truth be told, and honestly, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you said you're a friend? Yeah… He seemed like he got some really bad news yesterday." Your heart clenches, but she keeps going like a stereotypical gossip. "Yeah. Real rough day for him, honestly. Don't know why. Seemed pretty frustrated."
"Frustrated?"
"Yeah, I dunno... I don't really get it either. He just accepted this great full time role in our upcoming program."
"Oh..." You think you remember him mentioning something about a program when you'd spoken last. So he got offered a full job? And took it without even talking to you?
"But anyway, you didn't hear that from me. So did you want me to take a message for you?"
"Uh...no thanks. Sorry. Thanks."
You hang up before she can say anything else, your hands shaking.
He... He really must have blocked you.
-
On the other side, the PR representative for Bonne Applintite hears the call end and smiles. Not too long later, Arven enters the building, hiking his bag a bit higher up onto his shoulder.
"Good morning," He greets cheerily. "Do you have my phone ready and updated with the latest apps and everything for the agency?"
"I sure do!" The woman replies with a saccharine grin, sliding his rotom phone over from across the desk. "Thanks for leaving it with me overnight. Everything should be all set to go. Did you...?" She drifts off, her manicured nails creeping forward along the marble surface, her tone leading.
"Think about the offer?" Arven finishes. "Uh... Yeah. I did. I just wanna check in with someone back home first, y'know? It just seems like kind of a big leap. Like... I'm honored really, and I'm so happy people like my content... I just wanna talk about it first."
The woman shrugs. "Whatever you say, Arvie. I just think this'd be a great opportunity for you."
"It is, but..." He smiles fondly, totally disregarding the nickname. "We'll see what happens I guess. By the way, did I happen to get any messages last night? There’s a girl back home, and–"
“You know what? I didn’t see anything.” She interrupts him, smiling too big and speaking too loudly through teeth that are just a little too white. “Seems like she may have forgotten to text you.”
“Weird.” He replies, already walking off, his eyes glued to the device as he searches it for your contact.
Hm. Looks like some of his data got deleted, your previous text chains included... No biggie though. Your name is still there in his contacts, and that's really all he cares about. He can't wait to tell you about this new opportunity! Sure, he's kinda nervous about it. He's only been here for barely 2 months, if that, but apparently he's got some major skill, and people really like him! It's...it's actually really reassuring and affirming to him.
Growing up, Paldea had just been a place where he lived. In Kalos, with all these people around him showing him all this love and stuff... It feels like a home. It feels kinda like how he feels with you. It's not the same of course, but... He just feels like he's blossoming or something. It's wonderful.
Maybe you'd like it here, too...
Except you don't.
The conversation goes horribly. Arven doesn't get it. You don't sound like you. You were dismissive of him in the most bizarre way, basically telling him that he can fuck off and do as he likes--that you're not interested in maintaining contact anymore. It hurts. Did you find someone else or something? Hell, he hadn't been gone that long, and isn't absence supposed to make the heart grow fonder or something? You won't even video chat or pick up the phone, even though you'd been the one who had just asked him to call not long ago. 
That evening he slumps against the foot of his bed, Mabosstiff at his side, snuffling his pockets.
Arven sighs. "Well, Bud... Guess it's just you and me again for a bit..." He takes out his phone and looks over the PDF of the contract that had been sent to him.
Two and a half years total, including his current apprenticeship...
Fuck it. He's enjoyed his time here so far. What's a bit more time?
Not like anyone's gonna miss him in Paldea anyway. He spent his life, basically until now, waiting for people there to love him. At least here he's got a fresh start with a leg up.
He sends over his eSignature on the document and texts the PR rep.
-hey! Just signed the thing. Looks like I'll be here for a bit after all.
Her response is almost instant.
-yayyyyy!!!! let's go grab drinks to celebrate!!!!!!
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uhhhitsme · 2 months ago
Note
for the song thingy! how about 63 if it hasn't been done yet? :]
OKAY this is good because the first one u sent in was 4. and the 4th song on my curtwen playlist is you belong to me. which im sure you already know the context for because of smys incredible wonderful stunning fanfiction.
this is very fitting to me because somehow, even though crane wives is like 90% of my curtwen playlist, youre the first person to rq a crane wives song!! and also i think this is the first owen focused analysis ive done for the song thing so im doubly excited!!!
anyways, this song is so painfully owen carvour coded it makes me sick. its about (as im sure you already know) someone who can never be direct or clear about who they are, who is a liar and hardly trusts anyone they're around. who is constantly wearing a mask.
what saf does really cleverly (imo) is creating two characters so unlike each other that you can't directly associate them with each other at all---even if there are hints to the truth. the owen carvour we see in a1p1 is collected, practical, and a bit cocky---he is presented as the "brains" to curts brawn (key word presented im not doing that thing where ppl say that curt was a stupid little dumb dumb who was always being taken care of by owen), the thing that pulls curt back from doing anything too out there. he's calm and rational throughout most of a1p1 until his plans are blown to bits. but the dma is the opposite. he's quick to anger and explosively violent, big and burly and nowhere near as put together as owen seems. he kills for no reason, acts on the spot without much plan, and is so drastically different from the man curt knew intimately for years that he cant recognise him.
and i do think that this completely different persona wasn't just a role, for owen. that in a way, it was an outlet. an escape from being the person who had been hurt as brutally as he was, something to help him to cope with the trauma. but i also think that this isn't his first time disappearing into a role so completely. like owen says himself, he could've been actor, but (supposedly) chose to use his talents in combination with his interest in foreign policy. i believe that as a spy, this was his greatest asset---his ability to play pretend.
so obviously, i can't help but associate these lines with him, especially considering his "roles" as a spy probably hurt a lot of people.
i keep my closet free of skeletons 'cause i'm much better at digging graves
i've gotten good at making up metaphors i've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape and all these words are sweet and meaningless you can't trust a single thing i say
but to me, that's not all. for owen, i don't think it's just that he plays a role really well, and the moment his job is over he goes back to being himself. i think that he inhabits a mask even when he's supposed to be himself.
even after his reveal---even when owen is supposedly acting as himself, instead of playing up that role, its... very performative, as well. at first, he presents himself as uncaring, smug, completely detached from what he and curt had. he casually ribs curt about his very real grief and guilt over the past four years, pokes curts insecurities by describing him as a foolish, bumbling idiot who was never as good of a spy as owen was, "im going to have dinner with my NEW FRIENDS now" *dramatic hair flip.* this version of owen we see holds nothing but deep contempt for who curt is, and everything he represents. there is nothing complicated about it---his recklessness nearly killed him, and now that he has the chance he wants simple revenge.
but when we get to the staircase scene, both of them are worn out over (i think?) days of travel. and curt, desperate and still unravelling because of this new revelation, and he pleas with owen in a way that hits home. and we see him break from that controlled anger that he shows to the group when he first reveals himself. we hear the violent pain in his voice when he says they can't just go back to how things were, hear the trembling way he tells curt that whatever they had has died. that there's no saving them. we hear that it mattered, to him. we hear the grief.
and then curt kills him.
owen was an actor---not just in his work, but in his life. because he feels so much, cares so much, and he knew that vulnerability of his could be exploited. he knew that to trust anyone---to show the truth of himself, to give himself away the way he did with curt---was to set himself up for hurt. and after surviving all that he did, both as a spy and as a child growing up in WWII-era london, he couldn't let that happen again.
but i always dig up bones in your sympathy i can't trust a single thing you say
don't look too hard, 'cause you won't like the scars he left in me
i know that a lot of my analysis for the two of them is that "they both hid their vulnerabilities because they were gay men in the 1950s" but like. it's true. it does make up a significant part of their lives, and probably defined a lot of how they express themselves and acted at the time. and there's something to be said about the association of emotion with femininity---how owen presents himself as this logical, controlled character, traits typically associated with masculinity---whereas the sentimentality and love and emotion that he experienced because of curt is something that deviates from that reason. how owen probably tried his best to squash out his feeling, because he knows that being seen as something other than a traditional man is basically being seen as queer, because he was raised to be ashamed of it.
he put up so many walls and wore so many masks---to protect himself from that prosecution, and to protect himself from letting his emotions run the risk killing him. not that it worked lmao
tldr; this man cannot say anything directly and has more layers than a fucking onion, and i am incredibly normal about him.
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hegoeshardasfuck · 27 days ago
Text
come and fuck me till the sun burns out
wordcount: 1K
tags: genderfuckery with the sexy jutsu, vaginal sex, threesome, dombottom naruto, rough kissing
synopsis: Naruto and Sakura didn't expect Sasuke to pick up on the jutsu the first night he tried it, of course, they should've seen it coming that he'd let the jutsu fall through
authors note: i think they should lez out, as a treat, hope ya'll enjoy! if ya do consider a reblog or checkin' the Ao3!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/60157192
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Sasuke doesn't actually know how to weave the signs for the jutsu. He fumbles his hands a little bit as he goes, fingers not quite lined up enough, heels of his palms pressed together too much. The attempt doesn't even reward him with a morphed form.
Naruto huffs from where she lay on the bed, kicking her feet with her chin in her palm. She speaks with a little bit of disappointment, "I think you almost had it that time."
"You didn't actually teach me how to do it," Sasuke answered with curtly as he looked at his wife and husband. Although husband isn't exactly the best word for Naruto right now, Naruto doesn't even feel like a name that fits.
Sakura tilted her head to face Sasuke a bit better from where she lay across Naruto's back. "If you're a genius we thought you'd be able to figure it out."
Sasuke rolls his eyes and tries it once more.
His form is changed yes, but it's not as lithe as Naruto's. Still undeniably feminine but not petite, he didn't get any shorter, his body fat didn't redistribute perfectly. He looks down at himself and what was supposed to make him playgirl just made him... Average. Less than average, arguably; the notion of his figure being an hourglass was weak, closer to a pear shape if he had to take a guess.
"I can't get it right."
Apparently he can't see that Sakura and Naruto might as well be drooling at the sight of him. Sakura more so than Naruto.
"I think you got it better than right," Sakura answered with as she stared at Sasuke. His clothes were too tight on a body with a bust and hips that could easily bear children. His hair, normally barely brushing his shoulders, fell far past them in elegant sheafs.
Naruto nodded eagerly, "Oh yeah, I'm with Sakura on that one."
Sasuke cocked his head to the side a bit, a small smirk on his pretty face, "You're lying."
Naruto can feel her heart skip many beats at the sight of Sasuke smiling. She swallowed thickly, "Sasuke, go look at yourself in the mirror."
"What-"
"Please." Naruto sounded desperate.
And Sasuke does as told, sauntering to the mirror to try and get a better grasp on his form.
Sakura and Naruto stare with each step he takes. His hips sway, maybe there's unintended exaggeration, but the sway is intense. He cocks one hip as he stares himself down, Sakura can hear her inner self faint as she watches.
With a pivot he turns to face them.
A grin easily rises to his face at how enamoured they look over his body. Naruto just looks dumbfounded, absolutely stunned, mouth somewhat agape. Sakura's fisting the sheets by her thighs fiercely, her tongue bit so she doesn't say anything dumb or horny.
"So you do like it."
"Of course we do!"
"It could use some work, personally," Sasuke said. As he spoke he walked over to lay on the bed, "I could make my bust larger."
"If your bust is larger it'll shred your clothes," Naruto said, trying to keep an even tone.
"Doesn't that sound hot?" Sasuke asked.
"Until then this-" Sakura takes a moment to grope up Sasuke's thigh and he whimpers at the motion "-will do perfectly fine."
"I can agree with that!" Eagerness weighs heavy on Naruto's tone as she pushed Sasuke down to the mattress at the shoulders.
"You're awfully excited," Sasuke mused.
His attention was swiftly redirected back down to Sakura who lay between her legs. She feels up his legs voraciously, hands near soaring to the dumb button and zipper on his pants. She pries them apart with ease, tugging down too tight pants best she could.
"Next time try to get off some clothes in the morph," Sakura spat.
"Sorry," Sasuke answered with.
"Don't be sorry doll, you're gorgeous even with the clothes," Naruto said before leaning in to kiss Sasuke hard.
-/-/-/-
He fucks up the jutsu halfway through.
He didn't mean to break the jutsu, he swears. But it just sort of, fell through. And one second he had Naruto fucking him in the ass as he ate out Sakura, and the next...
Well.
They kept at it like that until Sakura came and then they retracted from each other.
Sasuke looks down at himself, "Fuck..."
"Just do it again," Naruto said, she sounded impatient.
Sasuke does it exactly the same and nothing happens. He looks at Naruto with only a bit of fear- she's different like this, whether she realizes it or not. She takes the reigns far more easily when she has ass long pigtails and curves.
Sakura knows she could easily offer Sasuke some chakra to get him out of a bind. But in a somewhat blissed out state she revels in the way Sasuke realizes he's going to be utterly ruined. That and the turning of cogs in Naruto's head followed up by the grin on her face.
"Then I guess that means you're just going to fuck me with that dick of yours until I cum," Naruto proclaimed.
"I can't use-"
"You have your dick and one hand," Naruto said, "To make it fair."
"Can I help?" Sakura asked eagerly, "Or if I can't, can I take up your time somewhere else?"
Naruto shook her head, "This is Sasuke's job now, if it takes him too long you can do whatever you want to me."
"You'll break the jutsu first?" Sakura asked.
"Of course I will."
-/-/-/-
Sasuke is practically tied into gridlock with Naruto, she has him held at the collar of his shirt.
"Come on, Sasuke," Naruto teased as she crossed lithe legs over the small of Sasuke's back, "You can fuck me good, can't you? With a fat cock like yours I thought it'd be easier."
Sasuke opens his mouth to snap back something snide, Sakura kisses him silent with ease. He gasps and she easily grips his shoulders to steady them as she kisses deeper, practically throatfucking him with her tongue. When she pulls back he's heaving for breath, having came to a screaming halt in motion.
"Sasuke, don't bother speaking. Right now you're just here to fuck me," Naruto said with a firm snap to her tone.
It was the kind of sharpness that made Sasuke whimper as Sakura held his jaw for Naruto.
Naruto tugged the collar of his shirt a bit closer before speaking, "So do your job and make me cum, mutt."
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