#but I have other things I want to do other stuff I want to write

[keferon]

Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵️

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically ���you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks��� and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

---------------

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”

[writersrkive]

Don't shut up | Spencer Reid

summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.

genre: fluff

pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.

a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.

That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.

“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."

At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.

“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”

Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.

“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”

Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.

“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.

“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."

“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.

“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.

“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.

“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.

Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.

It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.

While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.

“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.

“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.

“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.

The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”

“It isn't?” He questioned.

“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.

“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.

“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.

The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.

“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.

[bulgariansumo]

I see a lot of people in the tags feeling like they can't share their original work until it's complete and published since there's no place like AO3 for original stuff. But there are! Here's a few of the more popular options.

(Note: Traditional publishers tend to not want stories posted anywhere before they do, so keep that in mind.)

Tapas

Tapas is a most known for its webcomics, but it allows webnovels now, too. The most popular types of stories right now are Romance Fantasy (specifically Isekai Regency Romances), Action Fantasy, and BL.

There are slightly different genres available for webcomics, but for webnovels, the genres are: Romance, Romance Fantasy, Fantasy, Action Fantasy, Action, BL, GL, LGBTQ+, Drama, Mystery, Thriller/Horror, Science Fiction, Comedy, and Non-fiction. Stories are allowed to have three genres, but the first one determines where it shows up in searches and rankings. For example, my story is LGBTQ+, Science Fiction, and Slice of Life, but it only shows up in the LGBTQ+ section.

You can tag your story anything you want. Individual chapters are taggable, but that's just for fun, it does nothing for searchability.

Tapas emphasizes bite-sized content, so novel chapters are only able to be up to 15,000 characters (a little over 2,000 words) in length. Users can like and comment on each.

Images go a long way on Tapas, even if you're writing a webnovel. On your story's page, there's space for a banner, the cover (of course), and every chapter can contain a different thumbnail picture. Here's what mine looks like:

Personally, I like to switch the thumbnails with each full mini-story in my novel. I know someone who switches thumbnails based on PoV character, and I've seen people keep the same thumbnail throughout their whole story. It all depends on what you want!

Tapas has a full ban on AI-generated images and text. Mature content is allowed so long as it is appropriately tagged. They're a little stricter on images than text. As long as you're not writing porn without plot, hate speech, or something illegal, you can write pretty much whatever.

There is a Tapas Forums and a Tapas Discord. Personally, I find it easier to chime in and talk shop in the forums. However, the Discord is where Tapas announces contests and offers feature opportunities.

Royal Road

Royal Road is a website that caters to fantasy, sci-fi, and other speculative novels, with a current emphasis on LitRPG Isekai. But you can post other stuff there!

The site has a list of preset genres and tags. You can select up to four genres and however many of the tags you want. Here they are. The images are a little blurry without zooming in, but I included alt text.

If you hover your mouse over the question marks beside each label, it'll show you its definition just in case you're like me and don't know what some of these tags mean.

Your story goes through a 24-hour approval process, and if the moderator decides that it's fit for the site, it goes through.

Just as a heads up, this site has a reputation for being very strict about sexual content, even when it's appropriately tagged. The FAQ doesn't mention there being a limit, but among authors, it's understood that only 10-15% of the words (or chapters??) in a story can contain explicit sexual content. Sometimes less. So be aware of that.

Instead of likes or kudos, stories have the option to be reviewed on a 5-star system. These reviews are either be a short overview of your opinions on a story, or a more in-depth, "Advanced" review rating Style, Story, Characters, and Grammar separately. This helps (or hinders) a story's visibility. However, if you're friends, family, or live in the same house as the author, you MUST state that in the review, or the author could get into trouble.

Readers can comment regularly, but there's also an option to make it so that they can select passages to point out grammar mistakes and things like that.

You can insert images in chapters, but only if they're hosted on a different site, like Imgur or here on Tumblr. You can also put a poll in each chapter.

Royal Road allows AI-generated stuff on its site. There's an option to mark stories as being AI-generated or AI-assisted (using something like Grammarly to spellcheck or clean up wording). The site does have an in-depth search system that allows you to exclude stories tagged this way. However, there's still a lot of stories that use AI covers.

The site also has forums with a bunch of different sections. There's one specifically dedicated to swapping story reviews, but some people there will read, comment, and review on other people's stories just for fun.

Wattpad

Wattpad is probably the most well-known original writing platform. Its most popular story type seems to be any romance involving a rich and/or powerful guy. Sometimes he's a werewolf.

Its list of genres includes: Action, Adventure, ChickLit, Fanfiction, Fantasy, General Fiction, Historical Fiction, Horror, Humor, Mystery/Thriller, Non-fiction, Paranormal, Poetry, Random, Romance, Science Fiction, Short Story, Spiritual, Teen Fiction, Vampire, and Werewolf. You can only pick one of these per story, but like Tapas, you can also tag it anything you want. Each story is allowed 25 tags.

Pictures can be added to chapters, along with a picture, gif, or video above each chapter. Chapters can be commented on and liked. Wattpad's most standout feature is the ability to do in-line comments, where you're able to comment on specific lines or paragraphs. Also, you can see a chart breakdown of your readers' ages and genders.

Wattpad allows AI covers and AI text, and unlike Royal Road, there's no way to filter it out. The site used to have forums but got rid of them mid-2020. It also got rid of DMs earlier this year.

Archive of Our Own

The average person reading this knows more about Archive of Our Own than I do, so I'm just gonna say: AO3 allows original works so long as they're "fannish in nature," otherwise, they'd prefer you not post them there. Original works are tagged under the Original Works fandom.

General Tips

Do not under any circumstances join Webnovel. It's well known for predatory business practices.

If anyone DMs you on one of these sites wanting to sign you onto another, ignore it. It's probably sketchy.

Read other people's stories if you have the time. There's a chance they might like yours too.

If you don't know where to start finding other stories to read, participate in Read for Reads (Review Swaps on Royal Road). Not every story is gonna click with you, but I've found some of the coolest hidden gems from those.

Forums on novel websites are usually full of other creators. Advertising might get you a new reader or two, but not many.

Some of these sites (especially Royal Road) fall victim to web scrapers posting stories to another site. The good news is that they also copy usernames, so the authors still get credit. Also the views and likes on the other sites are often made up. No one really visits these them except for the authors who found out they've been stolen from. I don't really know what the end goal is... I think Tapas might the safest from this, since you can't copy-paste text from there, but that's just a hunch.

Was wishing there was a positivity post for original fiction writers since I see so many about how fanfic writers are doing so much for their communities even when they're not actively writing, and then I thought:

Be the change you want to see in the world.

So this is a positivity post for the writers out here who are working very hard on stories with no established community. Who can't talk about their blorbos and plot lines and brainstorming to anyone and expect them to know what any of it means. Who don't have much to share publicly, but are hoping they will one day.

You're doing a lot of hard work, and I recognize and appreciate what you're putting into the world, even when you're resting.

[enhard]

⋆˙⟡ monster | lee heeseung

: when two rivals in an entertainment company turned late-night lovers, no strings attached… or is it something else?

pairing: ceo!l.hs x fem!reader

CW: smut, enemies to fwb to lovers trope??, pwp (3 smut scenes omg), hate sex, age gap: heeseung is 29, reader is 24, usage of condoms, riding, oral sex (both receiving), cum eating, some pet names, insults?, lots of profanity lmk if i missed anything

notes: couldn’t stop thinking about this while listening to monster by gaga. crazycrazy

wc: 7.3k words (MDNI)

There was only one thing you hated more than useless things in your timetable. It was the asshole of the whole company, Lee Heeseung. The more conversations you heard his name in, the more you despised his existence.

His ego was so high it could hit a plane, the way he would talk about his compositions made you wanna throw up. He praised himself so much, and you started wondering if he was just a huge narcissist or if we were insecure of his writing skills. Luckily, you never saw him around often as you were really caught up in your own work. Having to compose songs all the time for singers was not an easy task. Your chairman was an even bigger asshole than Heeseung, always giving you all the work. You had to not only compose songs from start to finish, but you also had to edit and mix the voices, help the singers use the right tones and so much more stuff that wasn’t originally included in your job plan.

Usually, you would stay at the office overtime, your eyes darkened with tiredness. It was a miracle you haven’t fallen asleep all this time.

 You looked at the time,

 [01:54 AM]

“Great.” You sigh. Your shift ended at 12 AM. What the fuck are you still doing here? It’s quiet in the whole building, only clicking sounds can be heard from your keyboard. You’re all alone with a few bodyguards left in the company. You groan, your head pounding from the intense light of your pc. All you want now is to get back to your apartment just to greet your cat Juno.  He’s your only best friend in this cursed city of New York, he’s a soft and fluffy black and white cat, with heterochromia eyes, left eye blue and right eye brown. You talk to him all the time, even though he can’t hold conversations he’s the best listener you’ve ever encountered. Better than your ex-boyfriends, that’s for sure.

As the clock reads [02:29], you’re more than ready to go home. You gather all your things, wish a great night to all the security people there and finally get out of that stupid building. You get your car keys out of your bag, driving home in your black i8. When you get home you feed your cat, finally plopping in your bed and falling asleep instantly.

You woke up due to your phone ringing at around 10 am with the hugest headache you’ve had. You palm your forehead, grabbing your phone with your other hand. Your co-worker, Yena, is calling you. You pick up as fast as you can, moaning into the phone due to being exhausted out of your mind.

“Yeah… Yena hey….” You say with half a mouth.

“Hey girl, are you coming to work? Today’s the showcasing, have you forgotten?”

Oh, fucking hell. You totally forgot.

A showcasing happens when all composers need to show the work they did in a few months’ time. You need to turn in all the songs you’ve made in this time, whilst competing with your other co-workers to be the best one, getting the title of the best songwriter of the month. Your company likes making leaderboards, only adding onto your stress of being the best. Of course, last month’s songwriter was Heeseung, but you thought the judges were so biased over him… you knew you could take him down this month.

“Right… I’ll be there soon just let me get ready.” You say, already dreading the idea of getting out of bed.

She hangs up, letting you wash up quickly. You fix up your hair, put on your suit and do a bit of makeup. You get your badge with your name on it and out you are. By the time you arrive at the company you’re already late… the higherups there scolding you for it.

“Please try to make it on time, you know how important this is.”

You sigh. How could they expect you to be there early when you went home at almost 3 AM last night?

“Okay, okay I’m sorry. I’m here now.” You add.

After you come out of your office to get your suitcase that had your files, you bump into the last person you wanted to see there. He throws you a cheeky smile, not even apologizing for giving you a shoulder.

“Oh, if it isn’t the famous miss L/n! Ready to get your dreams crushed by my songs again?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms. “Yeah right, like I’d let a scumbag like you take my title. I don’t have anything to prove to you, stay in your lane.”

He raises his eyebrows at your response, as you would normally walk away if he told you anything. “Oh is it miss complaint now? Let me actually show you how this job is done, im your ceo for a reason.” he suddenly stops smiling to give you a glare.

“You don’t intimidate me Mr. Lee, right on the contrary, you make me want to laugh.” you say and turn around, not wanting to waste your time with such a man. His sleek smile creeps back onto his face as he walks into his own office.

A few minutes later, you get back to the front, everyone already waiting there with their work. You stand next to Yena, holding the tank of papers in hand tightly.

Yena could tell you’re nervous, so she extended one hand up to yours just to squeeze it, calming you down a bit. Your other co-workers were not a threat at all, but Heeseung was the one person you wanted to bring down. You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face. After much judging and testing, with recitals and rehearsals for the songs, the judges finally decided the points accorded to the candidates. The others already had way too little points to worry you, but you, Yena and Heeseung were left.

“Choi Yena, 127 points.” She sighed of relief. A sizeable number overall, but now it depends on what you and Heeseung did.

“Lee Heeseung, 140 points.” His eyes widen. There is a chance that you might win. You might take him over… You might take his place. No way, right?

After a good minute of silence, they finally list your points.

“L/n Y/n, 139 points.” You almost fall to your knees. Out of all chances, how could this happen to you?? You close your eyes and cover your ears before you go insane.

You let him win, again.

“Therefore, our winner this month will be Lee Heeseung, the winner of the last 3 months as well, Congratulations!” all you hear is buzzing in your ears. You grow sour of his name, of his voice, his face. You can’t stand his dumb mouth, dumb face, dumb voice. You can’t stand him at all, and you would do anything to see him fired or something. You know that won’t happen and it drives you crazy. Heeseung smiles, taking his prize in hand once again, his portrait remaining on the fame wall. He shakes hands with the judges before taking a good look at you.

You cannot look at him anymore, you just lower your gaze trying not to burst into tears. You worked so hard for this, yet he took away all your hope for a win. You storm out the room, sitting down at your desk to throw your head down on the wooden table.

One point. Seriously. This is ridiculous.

Well, you take a deep breath and continue with your shitty day. At some point in time, you get a knock on your office door. “Come in.” you say as you raise your eyes up to see who it is. “Oh Yena, hey.. sorry for not saying anything earlier…” you bite your lip.

“Don’t consume yourself over it, hey, that dude is a douche, okay? Do not let him get to you. You are better than him anyway.”

“Am I though? I mean… What if he is simply better than me. What if his songs are better than mine? What if his lyrics have more meaning than mine?”

“He is not better than you, and even if he will be proven to be, which I doubt, don’t ever let him know you think that.”

“I can’t be a narcissist just like him, Yena. If I am not as good as someone, I will take the responsibility on my shoulders and admit it.”

“See you’re already better than him, he would never” She laughs. You laugh back, although in your soul goes a fight between your ego and sincerity.

. . .

After the day ends, you finally go home early, not giving two fucks about what they might say or think, it is your right after all. Too bad that you get a message you dreamed of never getting, too bad it happened.

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT

“Good evening, members of the company. We are delighted to announce that tomorrow there will be a collaboration project between each other. The groups are arranged by the organisers, and they follow the lines of:

Now scrolling through all the pages, you search for your name. Oh, what are the chances.

Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n”

Of course this had to happen, it would not have been you if it were not for your amazing luck.

“Oh, suck on it seriously.” You look at your phone in disbelief, while making yourself tea. “Juno can you believe this? This man is going to ruin my image and my life. I can’t stand him anymore I swear I might kill someone if this keeps happening.” Juno meows, probably because he wants a bit of peace, but you still took that as an agreement to what you said. “I know, I know. I guess it will be okay… hope he doesn’t ruin my career for life with this. I do not trust him.”

The next day, you shake your head while getting out of your car, glaring at the tall building with huge windows. You always glare while looking at it, but somehow this time was different. It wasn’t because you hated your job, it was because you had to see your partner. All the people who greeted you in the halls got a cold response, or no response at all. Might have been a shitty thing to do but honestly you weren’t in the mood for anything anymore. You just wanted this day to be over.

When you get into Heeseung’s office, seeing him rummaging through his papers, you just stood in the doorway… waiting for him to finish his work. He raises his head to look at you, his mood getting insignificantly worse when his eyes met yours. Before he gets to sigh, you cut him off.

“The feeling is mutual. I usually try to act nice, but I just cannot stand you no matter how hard I try.” You cross your arms while he goes back to his papers. “Then take a seat.” He responds in the coldest way, only making you furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Okay damn…” you say under your breath while grabbing a chair to sit in front of his desk.

There are a few moments of silence, but you decide to ask him about the collaboration, same reason you’re here right now.

“Heese-” “It’s Mr. Lee for you.” You clear your throat annoyed. “Mr. Lee, I am only here to ask you about what we must do, can we focus on that?”

“Why would I make a project with someone as bad at writing as you?” he looks up at you again. You bite your cheek, barely being able to stand him anymore. You just look down to your thighs, grasping your palms together anxiously. Yuna told you to never be weak in front of him, but how could you not when he was so right?

“Please refrain from insulting my work and just take the organisations words, they put us together for this, so we need to do it.”

“If I let you work on this, you will just embarrass me in front of thousands of people. How about you just let me handle this? Go home, enjoy your days off. I’ll give you the credit.”

“You cannot just do everything alone; I do not care about days off I just want to work on this too. Please Mr. Lee.”

That is the first time he’s ever heard you say please to him. He hated your presence just as much as you hated his, why must you be at each other’s throats all the time? Simply because of rivalry or did other frustrations arise from both parties?

He licks his lips, finally giving in. “You can work on it with me Y/n. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“I promise I won’t. This matters so much to me.”

You follow him to his studio; he lets you get in first and that is when he locks the door behind you. You both sit down next to each other while you work on the song. He keeps acting weird throughout the recording and editing process, changing poses multiple times in a few minutes, sighing and fidgeting with his fingers. Halfway through the song you place your hand on his while looking at him. “Mr. Lee, are you feeling okay?”

That is when he sighs, snatching his hand away from yours and turning the pc off. He turns to you, keeping his eye contact consistent. “Y/n… i’ve just been feeling frustrated. Just forget it. Let’s focus on the song.”

Now you cannot say that you care about him, but you’re still curious to see what this is about. “Oh, is that so? Frustrated in what kind? Someone like you has feelings?”

He glares at you. “Not in the way you’d think, anyway.” You tilt your head. “But how? Tell me now, i’m curious.” “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut, it’s none of your business.” “Just because you’re my superior does not mean you gotta talk to me like that, bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “Oh, that’s it.” He suddenly grabs onto your neck, pulling you closer. He’s still so gentle but it’s enough force to make you struggle to talk. “Is this what it’s about...? A... are you sexually frustrated…?” You tease. He releases the grasp on your neck and looks down at his hands. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s hard being alone when you’re pushing 30 you know.”

You had no idea what was happening right now, but you definitely enjoyed the attention you got. You were equally as touch starved as he was, and it was making you want more.

“You know, we could do this. But I really don’t like you dude.” You raise your eyebrow at him. He nods. “You don’t make yourself all that approachable either, would you really be down? I mean, just… fuck buddies… nothing else?”

“Mr. Lee, you know we both aren’t ones for relationships. But what’s in it for me?” “Oh, you want payment now?” “Well, you knew I wasn’t gonna give you myself for free, did you?” He laughs. “Fair, then how about I give you a raise?” “Mm… Anything else?” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay uhh. A raise and no more staying overtime, you get paid if you leave work early and… free coffee for life.” You ponder a bit. “Alright, I accept.” “Oh, not so quick, you need some rules to you too. For this to work you have to come help me anytime I need you.” “Libido that high, huh?” He shushes you and you giggle.

“Well okay, but if you’re really frustrated right now, shall we start today?” He looks back at you, visibly cringing from you being so direct with him, but he doesn’t mind. “I mean if you’re down.” “I am, but do you have any condoms?” That’s when you see him reaching for his wallet, taking out about 3 condoms out. Your eyes widen a bit, smacking your lips at his professionalism. “Oh, wow you’re ready.” “3 is a bit much…” “Who knows, i’ll end up using all of them and then end up going raw cause we are left with none.” “Yeah, don’t know about that.” “Im messing with you, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, letting you get on top of his lap. Your lips finally make contact with his, getting to taste him in your mouth, the feeling lingering down to your stomach.

As you begin making out, your hand travels down to his forming bulge, squeezing and massaging it to the best of your abilities. As you’re doing that, he squeezes your ass with his palm, making you flinch from the sudden pressure. You playfully slap his face, pulling away from the kiss a bit. “You’re such a dick.” “I know, wanna feel mine already?” You give him one last kiss before pushing his head back on the chair to kiss his neck, insisting on his prominent adam’s apple. You suck on his sensitive skin, forming hickeys along his whole neck. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re not bad at this.” “I know, but you are.” “Oh shut up, I barely got to do anything.” You sigh, pulling away from his neck. “Let me ride you, m’kay?” “Do whatever you want to me.” He smiles coyly. “Could I kill you?” You pout your lips. “Not until you get your raise.” “Oh, fuck off.”

You start with unbuttoning his pants, not even taking them off before placing your hand on his boxers. You press his dick a bit, his groan appearing right after. “Mhm, that’s what I love hearing.” You nod to yourself. “Right from my mouth?” He teases too. “Oh, you know what I mean, I might need to stuff yours, so you shut up more often.” “Could you stuff it with your pussy?” That keeps you quiet for a bit, his response making you clench around nothing. “… I might, if tape doesn’t work.”

You don’t even take his pants off when you pull his boxers down with his half-hard dick springing out. You grab the base, stroking it a bit to get it as erect as you can. “You’re so big.” You point out. He just smirks, looking at you up and down. You leave his dick alone for a bit just to take your panties off, as you were already wearing a skirt, the embarrassing wet stains on them being visible for Heeseung to see as well. “You got this wet already? And you’re the one saying i’m horny.” “Shut it.” You throw your panties to the other side of the room, finally ripping one condom out the packaging, putting it well onto his dick. After you give him a few more strokes you position yourself on his dick, slowly lowering yourself on his length. It takes you a few good seconds to adjust, then you slowly move your hips back and forth on him. He already throws his head back, the feeling being so familiar yet so distant. Your walls clench around him every time you move on him, the feeling already getting unbearable. You change your routine a bit, starting to bounce instead of grinding, the sound of your thighs touching echoing through the room. You try leaving out as little moans as you can, but it’s still impossible for you, as it feels so good. You leave out small desperate noises as you bounce on him. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” He smiles up at you. You glare again. “Fuck you.” While speeding up. “This.. doesn’t mean anything. I’m just.. helping.. you get rid of a boner.” You say out of breath. “And it’s working, keep going.”

You ride him as well as you can, his swollen tip getting so deep inside you it’s hitting your sweet g-spot. He needed to fuck with someone desperately, the fact that it was you was pure coincidence. Your mouth parts, leaving sounds that only his ears can hear. “Holy shit… I might cum soon… please” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders with your nails bedded into his skin. He looks up at you, his hand resting against your ass, giving it a few squeezes here and there. “You’re gonna cum for me? Hm? Come on, cum all over me” He whisper shouts, helping you bounce on him faster and faster.

The knot in your stomach quickly snaps, your orgasm washing down over you with a few loud moans. You cum all over his dick, with each thrust forming a white ring at the base of it. “Your pussy so good, Y/n… I can’t take it any…more” he grunts, throwing his head back more with each bounce of yours. “Cum already, come on you’re... doing so well” you encourage him, and he immediately obeys, his semen spilling into his condom, making it fully white by the time you pull away from his lap. He pants and moans before you finally take the condom off his dick, the cum spilling back onto it. You stroke him a few more times, getting your hand messy but that finally makes him lay on the chair more relaxed, his high calming down.

“Damn it you’re good.” He says while smiling, his head thrown backwards. “I know, that’s why I agreed to help you.” You slightly grab onto his neck, giving it a few playful kisses. “Now should I send you back to your work? You’re finished here.” He teases. “Oh right, right. Maybe I should focus on my actual work, rather than this work.” You say, grabbing onto his dick one last time, leaving it alone after wrapping your hand around it.

He grabs your wrist, flicking it away now. He looks up at you while raising his eyebrow. “Get the fuck out of here.” You scoff at him, cleaning yourself up a bit and fixing your clothes back on before turning around to leave. “Suck my pussy.” You say annoyed while heading to the door.

As you open the door you hear a “Might do that too” and that’s when you get out the door, leaving him a middle finger before closing the door behind you.

Heeseung finishes the project for both of you, and you end up winning it together. Of course, he kept reproaching you that you won because of him, and you got into a heated argument that you just stopped talking for weeks. So first he says he’ll do it for you but when you do… he argues that he did all the work?

What an asshole.

After another day of no contact at all, you get passed a flyer at work, so you quickly read it.

“It gives us immense pleasure to invite you to a special gathering in honor of Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n to celebrate their remarkable achievement of winning the collaboration project contest first place.

Date: [7th of December]

Time: [7 PM to 12 AM]

Venue: HELIX ENTERTAINMENT VENUE & BAR

Dress Code: [Semi-Formal]

We look forward to celebrating this special moment with you.

Warm regards,

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT”

After reading, you immediately put the flyer down on your desk, covering your face with your hands. “I don’t wanna see that man ever again.” You avoided him for a few weeks, how could you meet again now? You sigh to yourself, thinking that it’s just one day, it’ll be over, and you can continue ignoring him again.

On the day of the event, you buy yourself a nice and luxurious royal blue dress, it’s long and it hugs your body so well. It has a pretty big cleavage, but you know you looked attractive in it anyway. You get ready, grab your hand purse, and get to the venue. As you enter the big ballroom you notice Heeseung right away, talking to some higher ups while having one hand in his pocket, and the other in the air, moving it around while talking. He’s wearing a tight black suit on, with a deep v-neck that perfectly shows his collarbone. His hair a dark velvet and slightly gelled. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. He always wore that dark aura to him, and that pissed you off. It’s like he was pulling you in despite you trying to pull away. Even if you said you hated him, your palms got sweaty when you saw him, your heartbeat got faster and you eyes slightly widened whenever you saw him. It wasn’t because he was your boss, it wasn’t because he could fire you at any moment… there was something else. And he knew it.

You breathe in one last time before going up to them. As soon as Heeseung sees you he can’t stop looking at you. How perfect you look, you elegant you came here yet so sexy. The way your boobs sat in your dress and how they looked at Heeseung first, that’s what he claims anyway. You don’t say anything to each other, you barely dare to make eye contact. But at one point the others leave your conversation, saluting both of you for now... And when you expect it least, he pulls you aside.

“Are you trying to tempt me with those tits?” He whispers. “Excuse me?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. “I mean, look at you. Who did you come here for? Where are you going after this? Is there anyone else with you?” He launches this set of questions so weirdly, making you cross your arms which makes your boobs squeeze even tighter against each other.

“I’m here alone, Heeseung. I just liked this dress and came here with it. What’s your problem, even if I dressed up for someone?” You look angrily at him. “Because nobody can see… all of this… except for me. You’re my fuck buddy remember?”

“So? I thought friends with benefits meant something else for you. Don’t care what you think about my outfits. Just stop staring weirdo.” You rest your arms alongside your body, before turning to leave. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. “Look, I don’t want to be constantly ignoring you. Can we be just like we were before?” your lips part. “You mean…. hating each other?” he sighs. “You know what I mean. Hating each other but helping each other with things.” You click your tongue. “Oh yeah, speaking of that… you never gave me my raise… or my coffee.”

“What? you can take as much coffee as you want, and I want you to help me with something before I give you the extra money.”

“And what’s that? amaze me.”

“Could you act that you’re my fiancé for tonight?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you around me, at all. But It’s so annoying when people keep asking why i’m not married at my age.”

“Did you tell them that you’re a bastard? and that’s why you’re single?” you look at him pissed.

“Oh fuck off, just tell me if you want to help me or not.” you contemplate. “Maybe. If I finally get my raise, and some good sex out of you.”

“It’s on then. Let’s go meet some people here, they’re old and rich perverts but they give hella good sponsors. You might wanna cover up. I don’t want them looking at you.” he grabs your waist. “What a coincidence, that sounds like a perfect description of you in a few years.” you roll your eyes, walking with him while struggling to put on your jacket.

“Hello, Mr. Lee, and who is this beautiful lady?” they start right off the bat looking at your body and all, despite covering yourself as well as you can. You feel so uncomfortable with them but Heeseung makes sure to cover you with his body instead. “This is Y/n, my dearest fiancé. She’s a bit shy, so please talk to me instead.” You throw a slight smile while looking at him, his gesture making you really happy.

After you were done with these men, you leave to a more reserved area. “I can’t believe i’m saying this but… thanks for having my back earlier.” “Don’t fret, I saw how uncomfortable you were. Hate you or not, I can’t see you with that expression on your stupid face.”

You take your jacket off while nodding your head. “Wow, what a compliment from you mr. Lee. I acted enough; now can I stop being your dog following you everywhere?”

“Of course, you can leave too if you’re busy.”

“Hey, what about my payment? remember?”

“You want your money now? What do you wanna buy? I’ll give you my card.” He says, pulling out his card to hand it to you. “My pin is 1510. Use however much you want.”

That just stunned you. “W-What no I don’t need to buy anything. Keep your card…” you push it back to him. “I meant… you know.”

“The good sex part?” he says softly.

“Yeah. That.” you say a bit embarrassed now. “Stop making it so awkward, you’re being too quiet for your own good.” you continue.

“Why do you think that? Is my mouth too big to keep quiet?” he smiles. “Obviously, you never seem to shut up but right now you’re eerily quiet.” “I’m just thinking whether I should just eat you out like you deserve or fuck you too on top of that.” His response already gets you hot and bothered, not caring about the people who might be there or might pass you two. You get even closer to him, sliding your hand down his v-neck to touch his pecs and collarbone. “What’s stopping you from doing both? Please Heeseung. It’s my turn to be needy is it not?”

“Of course, it can be your turn whenever. Surprised you’re craving my pleasure when you can’t stand me.” “You’re still fucking hot with this suit on, personality or not.” He smiles, pulling you into a heated kiss, the butterflies rummaging through your stomach. You grab onto his hair, pushing him a little while making out. You pull away after a bit, finally unbuttoning his shirt. You touch him all over his body, barely being able to stop.

“Did you always look this good?” you say, moving your hands on his abdomen. “Were you always this desperate for me?” he smiles, letting you do whatever you want, until he begins undressing you too, sliding that dress off you in a hurry. He slips your bra off taking one tit into his mouth while kneading the other. You let out desperate sounds, wishing he would just eat you out already. His breath hot against your nipple makes your whole body shiver, inevitably making you whine. “Heeseung just suck on my pussy like that please stop teasing me damn it.”

He laughs against your skin, giving your boob one last kiss before pulling away. “Okay, okay, sit down on this couch.” You do, and he gets on his knees to slide your panties off. He makes you spread your legs for him, keeping them apart with his hands. He starts off with small kisses around your core, taking his time enjoying his meal afterall. “This is the second time you’re dripping wet for me, is it a pattern now?” you grab onto his hair to keep him there. “Shut up and just help me get through this.” He listens, starting to eat you out to the best of his ability. Hollowing his cheeks, shaking his head to suck on your folds. He puckers up his lips to kiss you all over, giving it a few sweet licks all over the slit. Once he reaches your clit, he glues his mouth on it, sucking on it leaving the nastiest sounds known to man. While he’s focusing on your clit, he sneaks his fingers to your wet hole, sliding one finger in at first, pounding it into you at a steady rate. You cannot stop moaning loudly, the pleasure being too much for you. He inserts another finger in, curling them inside you, reaching your g-spot easily.

“Oh, right there, Hee. Don’t you dare stop or you’re so dead— oh my fucking god that’s so good.” His hand speeds up, he pulls his mouth away to flick his tongue on your bud faster and faster; matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Fuck!” you cry out. “Heeseung i’m gonna… cum please … keep going.” You lose your mind. He speeds up even more, destroying your pussy with his fingers, actually giving you hope that he’s gonna let you finish. Once you get as close as you’ve ever been, he pulls out and away completely, making your body shake. You groan suddenly opening your eyes in disbelief. “What the fuck..?” you say angrily. “You thought I was just gonna let you cum like that from something so simple?” You glare. “You’re so fucking annoying, I had such a good orgasm forming.”

He caresses your cheek. “Stop pouting, let me make you cum forreal now, okay?” you still look mad, but you grab onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one second; his boner is quite visible already. You pull his dick out, stroking it while he gets a condom out his wallet again (Somehow he’s always ready). You keep stroking him, squeezing his tip with your fingers until he leaks precum everywhere. You stop that to pull his boxers down further, letting him put his condom on. He strokes himself a few more times before positioning himself to penetrate you. He slowly pushes his cock in, making slow movements at first, slowly speeding up to fuck you good. “You’re taking it so well, and you feel so good..” You hum, slowly wrapping your legs around him. “That’s amazing… keep going..” you whine, letting him fuck you til you lose your mind.

He slightly moans at every thrust, managing to get deeper and deeper with every thrust. You feel him so deep inside, hitting your g-spot again with his swollen tip. The sudden zap makes you grab onto his biceps with your hands, digging your nails into his skin while moaning louder. “Mhm…. That’s the spot. Don’t stop please…” He finally listens to your pleads, pounding into your sweet spot over and over as you leave red scratches all over his arms. Your hands move up to his upper back, scratching him like a wild cat. He hisses multiple times at the pain, but he lets you react this way just to see all your reactions to him destroying you once again. You tighten around him as you’re about to cum.

“Hee...please let me cum... plea—oh that feels so good please…” you say as you start crying, small tears running down your cheeks shutting your eyes forcefully. “Who’s crying on my cock now? You love getting fucked like this don’t you slut?” he says while speeding up even more, making you squirt on him on the spot. His words buzz in your ear over and over while you lose your mind completely. Your legs shake on his lower back, getting his dick wet with your squirt. “You’re so messy when you cum.” He groans, getting close to his release too. “Oh fuck you… you know you like it… cum already…. come on.” A few more thrusts in and he pulls out to take his condom off his dick. He gives himself a few more strokes before releasing strings of cum all over your stomach. He holds onto your thigh with his other hand while continuing to stroke himself. You look down to your stomach just to see, biting your lip at the scenery. “That’s a new one… you look damn hot doing it.” He slightly smiles at you. “Figured we’d both get messy.” You both quickly clean up the best you can, trying not to get caught by anyone despite how loud you both were the entire time.

“Is this the good sex you were talking about?” he says in a sly manner. “Obviously, if that even means something to you. If there’s one good thing about you it might just be that dick.” You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my, should I feel honored?” he says sarcastically.

You both get out of there, having no intention of staying after what both just did. He gives you the rest of the evening off and gives you your very awaited raise. He was generous with his numbers, that good time really helped. might despise you, or that’s what you think, but he took that raise seriously and you couldn’t stop smiling at your bank balance.

A few days later, you get a text at work from none other than Heeseung. You never gave him your number, so it was a surprise.

“hey y/n”

“Who is this?”

“the guy you fucked 2 days ago”

“ugh what do u want”

“i’m your boss, don’t text me that way”

“whatever, why are u texting me and where did u get my number”

“yena, i just wanted to give you some extra work today”

[1 attachment]

The photo he sent shows his lower body sitting on a chair with his legs slightly manspreading, a thick bulge layering on his dark grey pants while his left hand is gripping the said bulge. Multiple veins are seen branching down from his hand to his arm.

The moment you saw the picture your eyes scattered throughout the pixels in your phone without being able to stop. The photo he took was so damn attractive to you for no specific reason but the way his hand looked, the way you just knew that bulge in his pants was throbbing, begging to get out the tight bottom wear. Still, you decided to be a little cold to him as you always were.

“oh why should i help u? i already got my raise”

“do u want this to be your only one?”

You leave him on seen for a minute or two.

“where r u”

“in my office, tell my bodyguard i called you in here”

“🖕”

You get up, fixing your makeup a little before leaving your office to get to his. After you close the door behind you, you both have a moment of intense eye contact, just to break it off by looking down. “You got here fast. Missed me that much?” you smack your lips. “It’s not like you threatened me or anything.” He laughs softly. “You know you missed me already. Did you touch yourself to the picture I sent, too?” He slowly walks towards you.

“What? No. You’re not all that Heeseung. Your mouth moves too much though.”

“Oh yeah? Then let's see what yours can do.”

He grabs your chin, pulling it up so you can only look into his eyes. There are a few seconds of silence where your heart skips a beat… then in his lowest tone you hear him say...

“Get on your knees.”

He releases the grasp on your chin, letting you lower yourself, finally making eye contact with his bulge. “Aren’t we gonna get caught here?” He shakes his head. “No one can enter without my permission. No one can leave either, like you here.” He smiles. You squeeze your legs together at his words while sliding his pants and boxers off in one move. His hardened cock springs out, bouncing off his navel. You start with small pecks to his red tip, slowly moving down to his entire length. He looks down at you, admiring your sweet moves to bring him pleasure. “You’re adorable like this, did you know?” he chuckles. “Eat a dick.” He slaps your cheek. “Too bad you’re eating mine right now.” You glare up at him before taking his tip in your mouth, stroking him with your hand. You have your other hand resting on his right knee, as you bop your head back and forth little by little. He smiles at you, grabbing your hair into a ponytail just to keep your head in place and to be able to fuck your mouth a bit.

You unwrap your hand from around him cock, letting him completely take control, going at his desired pace. He moans at the feeling, throwing his head back for a second. “Fuck yeah... I see this mouth is better at doing things other than complaining all the time.” His thrusts are making you slightly choke on his dick, getting harder and harder to breathe. You grab onto his thighs, trying to at least make him slow down, but to no avail. It feels too good for him to stop now, your mouth wrapped so tight around his dick; sending him waves of bliss with each thrust. After a good while he pulls away, letting you breathe again. “I fucking hate you.” You say, looking up at him. “Don’t talk to your superior that way, brat.” He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip onto your lips multiple times.

You take him in your mouth again, bopping your head up and down faster than before. You try using your tongue against as well, caressing the sensitive spot between his tip and length with the tip of your tongue.

“That feels so good. Don’t pull away.” He whispers. You leave little hums to confirm that you won’t, letting him get closer to his release with those emitted vibrations. After a few more sloppy bops, he moans like hell, grabbing onto the back of your head to push you deeper onto him. “Y/n i’m— gonna cum… hold on…” he moans out, his eyes closed shut. You keep going, wanting him to cum right in your mouth. “Mmm…hmm.” Is all you can let out, before he cums deep in your throat, automatically swallowing all of it. He leaves out a small groan, pulling out your mouth after he’s done. A string of saliva links his tip and your tongue as he pulls away further.

“Good girl. You swallowed all of it.” You give him a little smile, standing up while wiping your mouth. “Might’ve been the best i’ve ever had, come here.” He says, grabbing your waist with his arms. He leans in to give you a genuine kiss, not a lustful one, definitely not. He keeps you in that deep kiss for a while, pulling away only to pull you in again. “Where... is this … coming from?” you chuckle a little, asking between kisses. “I don’t think… I can stand… completely hating… you anymore…” your eyes widen a bit. “Was my mouth that good?” you say jokingly, and he shakes his head. “Not just that, not just sex. You have a crazy charm to you, I don’t know if you can feel it.”

“That’s crazy coming from you Lee Heeseung.”

“I want you in my life Y/n, you can be mad all you want but it doesn’t change things between us.”

“You’ve already been in mine way too long.” You smile.

“Exactly, I want you to be so sick of me, no medicine would be able to treat you.”

“I guess we can make it work… you’re crazy hot, still might need to tape that mouth though.”

“Is that a secret kink?” He laughs.

“Oh, shut up.” You push him slightly. You can’t lie, being his girlfriend now was tempting, no matter how much you tried to hate him, he attracted you more and more without even realising. Every time he was in your presence your subconscious was happy to see him. Your mind played tricks on you, and you hated how much you adored him.

Dating Lee Heeseung, your boss, was one of the best decisions of your life. Turns out he’s sweeter than it seems, he would give his life for you, and you would too. You didn’t need anyone else, only your soulmate and your cat. You ended up moving in together, always cooking dinner together, going on vacations together and just enjoying eachother’s presence. He was such a sweet guy, something you never expected to see from such a man. Yena definitely judged you when she first found out about your new relationship, but quickly came along with the idea. Thing is, Heeseung acted this way with others but he was so sweet with you. He only loved you. His sparkly bambi eyes always stare at you with such admiration when you walk in the room. He can’t stop admiring you all the time.

I guess he wasn’t that bad after all.

———————————————————————

a/n: thank you so much for reading this!! I spent a few days on it and it was definitely experimental. reblogging/liking would be very much appreciated < 3

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hello! It's me the one who requested reader sleepwalking. Can I be sleepwalk anon?

Sorry I didn't know you were overwhelmed by my request yesterday, I was reading the rules carefully and I was like— "ah ok so meaning they can write 4 or more characters, imma request!"

You can do the main sss hedgehog boys for sleepwalking reader or just sonic and shadow, is that makes you comfortable.

Again, sorry for making you overwhelmed!

A/n: yeah, sorry, it's my fault for not making it clear to begin with.

Triple S x reader who sleepwalks

Sonic:

Sonic has a habit of staying up late, so it’s no surprise he’s awake when you begin your sleepwalking. He’s lounging on the couch, watching a movie, when you shuffle out of your room, arms slightly outstretched, your face completely blank.

At first, Sonic thinks you’re just messing with him. Talking to you as if any other normal day. But you don’t respond. Instead, you march straight past him and bump into the coffee table.

Sonic’s grin falters when you mutter something incoherent under your breath, rubbing your knee absently before walking into the wall.

“Wait… are you sleepwalking?” Sonic whispers to himself.

He jumps up and jogs over to you. "Uh, Y/N? You good there, buddy?" He waves a hand in front of your face, but you only mutter again, turning sharply and walking toward the kitchen.

"Alright, this is either going to be really funny or a disaster waiting to happen," though hes not gonna stop you now as hes genuinely curious, so he just continues following you.

He watches in silent amusement as you open the fridge, stare at its contents for a solid thirty seconds, then grab an apple, only to drop it immediately and shuffle away. You make a beeline for the sink, turn on the faucet, and start washing the counter.

"Okay, yeah, this is gold," Sonic mutters, pulling out his phone to record the scene.

When you bump into the kitchen table, mutter again, and sit down in the middle of the floor like it’s the most natural thing in the world, Sonic finally intervenes. He gently steers you back to your room, all the while stifling laughter.

The next morning, you wake up to sonic all up next to you, shoving his phone in your face as you groggily watch the video of yourself sleepwalking, complete with Sonic’s commentary.

"And here we have the rare Sleepwalking Y/N in their natural habitat. Truly majestic. Ten out of ten entertainment."

Silver:

Silver is a light sleeper, so when he hears footsteps at three in the morning, he immediately bolts upright. He’s halfway to activating his psychokinesis when he realizes it’s just you, wandering around aimlessly.

At first, he’s worried. Very worried. Did you have a nightmare? Are you okay? But then he notices your vacant expression and the way you keep bumping into furniture without reacting.

"Wait… are they sleepwalking?"

He watches as you stumble toward the bookshelf, run your hand along it like you’re looking for something, and then pull out a random book. You open it, flip a few pages, and then hold it upside down, muttering something under your breath.

Silver doesn’t know whether to laugh or try to wake you up. Instead, he decides to quietly follow you, just to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. He uses his powers to move objects out of your way as you shuffle around the room. When you trip over your own feet and fall onto the couch, Silver gently places a pillow under your head with his powers, smiling softly.

"You’re so weird," he mutters, sitting down to keep watch.

When you eventually get up and start wandering again, Silver patiently just follows you around the house. Waking up to Silvers sheepish explanation on what happened.

"You were, uh, walking around and muttering stuff," he says. "I didn’t want to wake you up, so I just made sure you didn’t, you know, fall down the stairs or something."

Shadow:

Shadow is not amused. He’s a heavy sleeper, but even he can’t ignore the sound of you knocking over a lamp at three in the morning. He storms out of his room, fully prepared to scold whoever’s causing the commotion, only to freeze when he sees you standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at the floor like it personally offended you.

"Y/N," he says sharply, but you don’t respond. Instead, you turn and start walking toward him, your steps uneven and your expression blank.

"Y/N?" he tries again, still no answer.

You brush past him, muttering something incoherent, and head straight for the couch. You sit down, pick up a throw pillow, and hug it like it’s the most important thing in the world.

Shadow, upon peicing together your sleep walking, stares at you for a long moment, his arms crossed. He debates whether or not to wake you up but ultimately decides against it. Instead, he sits down in a nearby chair and watches you closely, making sure you don’t do anything dangerous.

When you eventually get up and start wandering again, Shadow follows you with a deep scowl. When you try to open the front door, he steps in front of you, his arms crossed.

"You’re not going outside," he says firmly, even though he knows you can’t hear him.

The next morning, he confronts you over breakfast.

"Do you have any idea how much noise you made last night?" he asks, glaring daggers at you.

When you look at him in confusion, he sighs and explains. "You were sleepwalking. You almost walked straight out the door at three in the morning."

In short terms bro is done with you /j

[atan-orofarne]

Not to be a party pooper and all, but…folks, you do know how many of these people making YouTube videos earn at least a portion of the money that allows them to spend time making the videos, right?

Yes, ads suck. And, yes, there's a big, shitty company involved. And I'm not shedding any tears for Google, but storing and serving up all that video is legitimately really expensive at the scale they're doing it at. Servers, hard drives and other storage, and electricity are not free. Neither is the time of the people who write the code to make it work. And, again, ad revenue can be an important source of income for people posting on YouTube.

People seem to expect that things on the internet should just be free of cost. But basically all of these things take time and money to produce. I regularly see people on Tumblr reblogging posts about how quiltmakers and knitters deserve to be paid for their time and labor when they make something. And how unreasonable it is when people devalue their time.

And there are obviously differences. With an artisan maker, there's usually not a big company involved.

But as big and shitty as those companies are, they're generally still the extremely, extremely imperfect conduit that money flows through to creators. To the people who make TV shows. To the people who make YouTube videos. To the journalists who do the vital job of reporting the news.

Thinking the system should change is valid. Not just valid, but absolutely true. The system should change. Ad revenue is an extremely shitty way to fund things. But if that's not the funding model we want, that stuff will still need to be funded. The people making it will still need to be paid. And expecting all this stuff to just be free…I still think that devalues the work of the creative professionals who are doing it.

And so…

*

And I just want to say, do not take this to be me doing a sideways lecture at people who cannot afford stuff. Honestly if you're a student or otherwise just don't have money, it's not exactly ethical, still, but it's absolutely understandable that one might pirate. I did it when I was a student, too. But I think it's worth being mindful about this stuff, too, even if you're in that position.

Though, as I can afford it, I do try to always support the shows and media I enjoy in whatever way it is that they make money.

youtube is pulling this bullshit again

praying for the firefox gods to save me once more...

[winonaparadise]

Maybe I’m somehow super unaware that I missed it but where’re you posting GWH nowadays? ;3;

Thank you for asking, and thank you for reading GWH! Unfortunately, it basically doesn't exist right now outside of like, the things I'm trying to make behind the scenes. I lost a lot of steam when the new format I worked really hard on lost a lot of traction and didn't sell as much as i had hoped (not anyone's fault besides my own and, maybe also Elon Musk's for kind of fundamentally destroying twitter dot com as we knew it) and also the second installment of it being 90% finished and then just being entirely lost to a hard drive failure also really just sent me into a spiral. And I also kind of just started hating my own work and art after that, have been working to try and improve, and keep my chin up despite watching a lot of my peers find success before me. Which is admitting one of my very selfish, ugly thoughts - but I do feel like maybe my webcomic was stupid and a waste of effort because it was never "legitimized" via publication like a lot of others surrounding me have been.

I've been kind of struggling with what to make lately. I have tried a lot of things that didn't really take off and it's left me confused about what to do. I feel like every shot I take at something isn't really met with much enthusiasm (again, nobody's fault but my own but if you want to blame this one on Musk as well sure why not) and I don't know how else to gauge if I'm doing the right thing. I think and write something for GWH almost every day, though. I am slowly chipping away at this vague idea of a "visual novel" version that will hopefully allow me to tell a contained story in one piece rather than falling off like I've done in the past. I really, really want to make that.

And in all total complete probably unsurprising honesty I'm just very depressed. Like seriously-considering-suicide-every-week-depressed. I'm sorry if that is a flippant way to express it, but I don't know how else to than to try and couch it in some flippant language. I don't have a lot of money, my health hasn't been very good, and I spend days and sometimes weeks entirely by myself. Making stuff is very difficult with these conditions and unfortunately (fortunately?) the cure to at least some of that is probably making more stuff! It's just taking some time and I really apologize for that. I hope you can forgive me and you'll like whatever I manage to make next. Thank you.

[t1red-twilight]

could you maybe write a Spencer Reid x reader where bau!reader always has freezing cold hands and maybe Spencer offers to hold their hands to warm them up and then it kind of becomes a routine thing that they do and they both secretly really enjoy it then maybe a confession is involved? idk i just have freezing hands all the time and i want him to hold my hands 😔

(your fics are wonderful btw! you write Spencer so well! <3)

frigid

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, confession, cursing, hoes with anemia rise up, autistic coded spencer

notes: i really really appreciate the compliment, that’s so incredibly sweet. thank you so much for your request! i hope you enjoy it<3

word count: 1.2k

masterlist s. r. masterlist

spencer first noticed it when your hand brushed past his on the jet. you were reaching for something and had to lean over him, so he began to grab the same thing to grab it for you.

your hands touched briefly, and he noted how cold they were. maybe you had poor circulation? “your hands are so cold,” he had stated.

you shrugged in response. “i mean, i guess. i’m just kind of used to it.” to some extent, you were. you regularly carried hand warmers to stuff inside jacket pockets, carried gloves occasionally, and tried to increase your blood flow whenever you could.

after that, he noticed just how cold your hands often were. on the jet he brushed it off due to the altitude or maybe even just the air conditioning, but he couldn’t deny how much you rubbed your hands together or discreetly opened warming packets.

one time on a particularly chilly case in michigan, he saw you digging around in your bag. “what are you looking for?” he asked.

you looked up briefly just to continue to rifle through your things. “oh, it’s nothing.” the brisk air was beginning to become to much to bear, you needed your hand warmers. “i just need to find my hand warmers.”

after a few minutes you gave up and began to rub your hands together to generate some warmth. spencer watched for a moment, and contemplated if he should say anything else. he then spoke before even realizing that he had said anything. “do you just want to hold my hand?”

what first struck you was how odd this was, coming from spencer specifically. you had known about his germ issue, obviously. everyone did. “it’s actually safer to kiss,” he would always say. but, if he was offering, who were you to turn him down? you were no fool.

his eyes widened after he realized the sentiment of what this proposition could mean, and quickly followed it up with, “only if you want to, of course. just because your hands are cold all the time.”

and so, you reached for his hand and gently held it. he then took your enclasped hands and placed them in the pocket on his jacket. your hands weren’t the only thing that were warm that night. you weren’t sure if he could see the red heat that had risen to your cheeks.

from that moment on, spencer began holding your hand or putting your hand in his pockets when he could tell they were getting cold. surely other people on the team were noticing, but it didn’t really occur to you to mind. eventually your wallet was appreciative of the money you were saving on purchasing hand warmers in bulk.

presently you and spencer were walking back to your apartment after a case. you both were quite tired, and you didn’t want him taking public transportation this late at night. it hadn’t snowed yet, but it was still incredibly cold.

spencer noticed the telltale signs that your hands were getting uncomfortably cold, and so he reached for the hand that was closest to him and laced his fingers with yours. “sorry i’m such a frigid bitch,” you joked.

your statement stopped him in his tracks, literally. what could you even mean by that? you weren’t a bitch. frigid, maybe. but definitely not a bitch.

his sudden stop startled you a little. “what do you mean? you’re not a bitch.” his brow was knit together, and his lips curled downward ever so slightly.

oh, he hadn’t quite understood what you had intended to imply. “that’s not what i meant,” you said, laughing lightly. “i just meant that i’m really fucking cold, like all the time. thank you for sharing your body heat, i guess.”

due to his expression, it had clearly dawned on him what you had meant. “i don’t mind at all.” he smiled and squeezed your hand a little tighter. “you can hold my hand whenever you want to.”

you continued walking to your apartment. the lights from the surrounding buildings reflected dimly off the road, creating a soft ambiance. cars drove past every now and then, and sometimes you’d move to the side of the sidewalk for people passing by.

“what if i always want to?” you asked under your breath. he turned to look at you, a quizzical look sitting upon his face.

“what do you mean?”

you paused. “what if i want to hold your hand, even when i’m not cold?” you looked into his eyes, and then something shifted. spencer opened and closed his mouth a few times. you flicked your eyes away and looked ant the ground. maybe you shouldn’t have said anything.

spencer moved his head in an attempt to meet your gaze, but was unsuccessful. “hey,” he prodded, trying to get your attention. his voice was softened; the sound of it vibrating softly in the air between the two of you.

“hey,” he called out again. “do you mean that?” he questioned. the tone of his voice was nothing accusatory; it was curious, maybe even a little shocked.

you gulped down any embarrassment that you could. okay, you were doing this. “yes,” you mumbled. “i really enjoy holding your hand even when my hands aren’t cold.”

at first, his eyebrows raised a bit, but then his expression softened and grew more rapt. this was not what you were expecting. what you had been expecting was an awkward exchange of, “i’m sorry, i don’t like you that way,” or perhaps even a declaration of his purely platonic feelings for you.

his silence was beginning to stress you out. you looked for any recognition on his face of what his next words would be. finally, he spoke. “really? because i do too,” he whispered.

upon his lips sat a small smile that did little to hide his glee. thank god, he wasn’t upset or uncomfortable. “what if i held your hand whenever i wanted to? not just when my hands get cold?” you pondered.

his smile widened. he nodded passionately before speaking. “yes!” he exclaimed, a little louder than intended. he quietened his voice again, “yes. you absolutely can. i want you too. i like holding your hand.”

the remaining tension in your jaw and shoulders finally dissipated. you turned your body to face him completely, and you were met with the backlit halo of light from the street lamps that illuminated him in an almost angelic way. his curls looked softer than ever, and the creases around his eyes made you want to melt.

your free hand reached forward in search of his other hand, and you grasped it tightly. finally you broke the silence. “can i kiss you, spence?”

his eyes bound shut tightly and he smiled even wider, if possible. his eyes opened and looked right into yours. “please. please kiss me,” he declared.

your hands still intertwined, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. you tilted your head to the side to get even closer to him. one of his hand let go of your own and cradled your jaw gently.

his breath tickled against your cheek, and despite his typical bashful nature, you felt him smile into the kiss. when you pulled away, a string of salvia connected the two of you. in another situation you might’ve found it gross, but presently you didn’t mind.

you took your free hand and brushed a piece of hair from his face. nothing in this moment mattered but you and him, and you with him.

[kepler-station]

౨ৎ.𖥔˚ How do the Five Beasts fare with being "rejected" or "friendzoned"...?

— 𝜗𝜚 rq by @melluvsuu, thank you for requesting ! i can't write for characters without a clear personality in the canon of its game, series, or whatever, so here's how i characterized the two beasts who haven't been released yet/has no episodes in game :

— eternal sugar : the lazy beauty. the type to look drop dead gorgeous even while lazing off on her cloud. she's seductive and attractive, kinda like a worse and intensified version of kumiho. she can get what she wants just by whispering sweet nothings into the ears of those who she wants. so sweet, you don't hear the condescendingly cruel intention of hers. but to her, you're just another piece of jelly on her plate. another to use, another to discard. once you're consumed by your love for her, you'll be floating away on a cloud, lazy becomings getting better of you. and you fail to see her touch the heart of another.

— silent salt : a silent but protective cookie. he shows his affection not through empty words but deep rooted actions that come from deep in his heart. and yet, this comes with a strong sense of dismissal, carelessness, and even ignorance. you can't tell if he's listening or ignoring you, he's that silent. despite that, he's protective of those and the things he truly cares about. that being said, anyone who even gets a mile closer to his belongings gets sliced. it may be scary, getting isolated like that. but he's devoted. a slash of his sword, he'll cut down any cookie who dares even think of what he cares about...

— hopefully you like how i portrayed them ! this is just what my vivid imagination thought they'd be like once i saw them. kept it to myself for a while, and now i get to tell it to you mystics here.

— god, they're so evil... i love it.

𔓕 ⸝⸝ ꒱ sumi radio ; step back by GOT the beat

ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ heads up ! — lovebombing. isolation. implied kidnapping...? a lot of bad things. also, you aren't a beast here.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ radiowaves reaching to humans... @esmelanaire

— shadow milk cookie 🎭 ᯓ★

— "You... YOU...!!!! NO, HOW DARE YOU...!!!" TRY TO REJECT ME— YOU..!!" ... "Oh, you silly goose! You didn't reject me, silly! You love me! You do!"

— at first, he's... silent. you weren't supposed to go off script like that, you were supposed to declare your love for him at this very moment! oh, but lookie here, because all the sudden you're dressed in blues and blacks, circus-like attire while declaring your undying love for the incredibly funny and self-proclaimingly incredibly-handsome cookie of deceit!

— with just a snap of his fingers, the entire environment turned from lush green and... beast-yeast stuff to blues and blacks, checkerboards with tightropes, dancing faeries in circus attire, burning coals to dance over and parkour courses complete with throwing knives for fun! of course, it wouldn't be complete without the love of his life, the darling apple of his eye, his little silly goose and so many other silly nicknames, you !!

— you're more than just friends, your lovers, silly! but seriously, of course you'd be having a lot of fun by his side, even if it's not truly you... hey now, you'll be okay! to avoid any other cookies trying to meddle with your mind, he places you at top of the spire of deceit and truth, of course all of your necessities are all there, and Shadow Milk can just appear there with you with a snap of his fingers, faster than you can blink and say "silly, vanilly"!

— which brings a lot of surprise and drama when pure vanilla eventually runs up that familiar blue tower. what sorts of drama coil up when truth finally catches your eye and hand down the blue tower? has your savior finally arrived?

— eternal sugar cookie 💘 ᯓ★

— beautiful, beautiful eternal sugar. how could you ever turn her down? stunning, gorgeous, attractive... looks like she didn't lovebomb you enough. or maybe she didn't spray enough love potions in the air for you to fully fall for her? well, there's truly no need to worry! you're feeling the effects already!

— truth be told, none of the beasts can handle rejection. of course, sugar is no different. her looks, whispers of sweet nothings and forbidden love magic are all she needs to get you to love her. sure, you did reject her, but you just don't know that your hers yet!

— she lovebombs you; constant invitations to her sugar paradise, isolating you from your friends and family upon a sugar cloud and some dark vines as you are consumed by your growing sloth, spoiling you, whispering words of affirmation and love in your ears until you get used to it and only it, inviting herself to things that include you, while ignoring your schedules, personal beliefs and your time because she wants you. she wants control over you, she wants to catch her prey.

— rejecting her further results in further isolation, of course after facing the wrath of a beast. as a... not a beast, you fear her in terms of power, so it's only a matter of time until you love her because you fear her. but that's besides the point, she loves you too much to see you suffer like that! during the black vines and isolation, of course the hearts in her eyes cannot be stopped. the lovebombing doesn't stop even when you are isolated from cookie society.

— consequently, everyone fears being around you because wherever you go, not a minute later the beast of sloth herself comes flying after you right then and there! with how feared the beasts are, they're just begging you to accept her love so she can go away...

— in the end you do end up loving her, in the same way she discards you as you fall into sloth upon your little cloud in the sugar paradise. after all, you are just another toy for her to play with and discard at will. another piece of food on her plate, another prey for to go to town on.

— (p.s. if you somehow got to stay friends with her for a short bit, she doesn't stop with her advances and trying to block her off doesnt work either, she will have you wrapped around her finger in less than it takes for her to snap her dainty fingers.)

— mystic flour cookie 🏯 ᯓ★

— how futile.

— what sort of meaning did you mean to her for her to go to such lengths only to be met with the same futility she drowned herself in a long time ago?

— in her world of white, you were a deep, vibrant shade of (whatever the main color in your cookie's color palette is). the one thing that mattered to her in a world which served no purpose chose to reject her perfect world of white just like that. the one thing that stopped her from turning the world from white chose to leave her out of their world... not in the way that she chose them to be the only rhing worthwhile in hers.

— so because her approach to you is more or less the same as the other cookies around you, she just pays attention to you and actually interacts with you, albeit a dry one, her reaction is very apathetic, hard to tell whether she cared or not.

— ah, what of it? the world will be consumed in apathy, and you will soon see the futility of turning her and her heart of white down. it wouldn't hurt to indulge a fair bit before she took the world into her hands.

— so before she enters her white spider-like cocoon, she abducted you and placed you in there with her. she wanted you to see the world of white she sees so, she wants you to be there with her and feel this same apathy, so you understand her.

— and for once, it wasn't futile as it actually worked. colors diluted in white, eyes glazed over, floury dough and all. you turned into a priest/priestess of the temple of hollow tears, and a personal servant to mystic flour.

— she made you see her world of white. your opinions do not matter. you will not harbor the same arrogance as the cookies who asked too much of her. you saw her perfect world of white, and you feel the same apathy that loathes within her at all times. with tears of hollow apathy, her hand caresses your cheek as you turn into flour under her loving gaze. you were the only thing that mattered to her heart, and nothing else mattered. in this moment where she had lost everything, she desired nothing more than to see you before you entered her world of white. her heart will never forget you, my dear. apathy will never outshine the love she has for you.

— burning spice cookie 🔥 ᯓ★

— ah, so you're a fighter, eh?

— burning spice cookie is a fiery, destructive cookie. i can see his own pride getting hurt by your destruction, and something similar to his wild-goose-chase with golden cheese would happen where you'd hide from him until you could escape or until he was defeated in some way.

— you rejecting his burning love for you hurt his pride. a lot. nutmeg tiger and the spices were shocked too, that you had the guts to do such a thing, knowing you're going up against a beast of such chaos as burning spice...

— ... which means it's another game of hide-and-seek between you and the beast within his own lands. from the kulfi hotsprings to the spice valleys, the spice tribes either helped you hide or ran away from you in fear of the beast. after all, you were the one he was looking for.

— perhaps he wants to prove himself to you. or perhaps he seeks to know whether you are truly worthy of his heart. i don't know, maybe he thinks his destructive stunts will win you over or maybe he wants to see your strength (but you must be strong if burning spice is interested in you), just that he wants to find you because of the rejection which led to something else.

— we've already been over the fact that the rejection hurt his pride deeply, but he's determined to win you over. perhaps he didn't do enough; in this sense he's more similar to eternal sugar but he doesn't love bomb you. in the end of it all, it climaxes to a fight, both to see your strength and to prove himself and win you over!

— he doubles down on competition as he's driven by a need to prove himself, which leads to reckless behavior as he pushes himself to the absolute limit, desperate to impress his crush. also, nutmeg tiger is also after you because burning spice ordered her to.

— the way this ends could be up to your interpretation because i can't see a definitive ending for burning spice getting rejected by his crush. it could end in a big fight where either one of you wins; you win and you leave beast-yeast and the land of rigid spices or whatever it's called, or burning spice wins and you have to be his lover. really, it's up to you from there, sorry.

— silent salt cookie ⚔️ ᯓ★

— the silence after you declare your rejection is so very loud it's almost deafening.

— in the past, you and salt started out as friends. of course, he was a capable leader and with that came being a great protector. little did you know, something that seems good turns out horribly annoying..

— it's not bad, of course, it feels nice knowing no evil or danger is coming your way since silent salt took his place by your side as your knight in literal shining armor, but it's just annoying. cutting down even harmless little critters who come close to you and yes, as a beasts no evil dares come near you but that means cookies also avoid you like the plague.

— isolation is depressing, and no contact is the same thing just as depressing. however, silent salt won't budge even in isolation. alone in your room? not anymore, silent salt is peering over you watching over you. want alone time? silent salt ignores you and stays by your side, stuck to you. that sort of clinginess is uncomfortable and annoying, i'm sure, esp. when they're someone who ignores you and stays silent all the time.

— and sure, it may be nice sometimes. in times where danger threats you, the beast next to you shuts it down immediately but when he cuts down your friends....

— and he ignores your pleas too.

— he ignores your rejection. that's it. he's always going to be by your side even if you declare that you don't love him. you'll never get rid of him, accept it.

— you aren't on his level of power, so you don't stand a chance against him. years and years pass as you crumble on your own (iykyk...). does he regret it? yes. yes he does. but he doesn't see why you did this.

— he thought you knew that he loved you, he cared for you, thats why he stood next to your side for so long... you knew, didn't you? why did you do this... why?

[admirationandromantics]

Keeping Warm

Another request, thank you so much. Again, reminding people that these usually take some time!! I loved the concept of this one, and believe me when I say that I love to write smut (blog is 18+ minors get away). It's not exactly like the request, but I still hope you like it.

And Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Not gonna be active today, so please enjoy this one and send requests if you want me to take a look at them later. Have a nice day everyone <3

Basically, reader comes to the lodge with Josh a day earlier to set everything up, and they have to get the guest cabin ready. Snow storm, they're snowed in and have to keep warm (you can imagine where this goes).

Word count: 3,3k (Unedited)

i absolutely adore your work, especially the drugged chocolate ones was such a trip!! i was hoping if you could write about josh and reader being stuck in a snow storm. being stuck somewhere, a car or a small cabin (whatever works for you!) and having to have sex for warmth. i know this request is kind of silly but i could totally imagine josh asking this just to be funny and being shocked that reader agrees to do it.😭 (@dissolvedprincess)

“Should we go and set up the guest cabin for Emily and Mike?” I ask, fluffing the last pillow on the sofa. 

“Are we done here?” Josh comes into the room, looking around for any imperfections. Everything is cleaned, changed and heated up. I take it all in, the coziness of the lodge is like no other. It is perfect. 

“Yes we are, don’t you think?”

He comes up behind me, seeing everything from my perspective. 

“Yeah, looks great, guest cabin next”

We take our jackets, not bothering with extra sweaters and outerwear. We aren’t going to be long, just change the sheets, check if there’s firewood and do a quick cleanup. 

Everyone is arriving at the lodge tomorrow night, and I volunteered to come with Josh to prepare for it. The weekend was going to be awesome. Drinking, dancing and talking. I do have an ulterior motive to the kindness I’m paying him. Usually he does these things himself, but by coming with him, we could get some alone time. Not that it would lead to anything, either way, I enjoy his company. 

We go outside, the snow-filled wind immediately hitting us. I knew it was brewing up for a storm, but I didn’t expect it to come so early. I look over at him, and he has his hand in the air, reaching out for me. I grab it, holding firm so I don’t lose him. We can barely see, barely open our eyes to follow the path before us. 

He leads me down, an occasional swing to the side and a little hill here and there. We walk up a couple of stairs when we suddenly hear a loud wolf’s howl. Fucking hell, was this mountain trying to kill us? Luckily, he’s basically grown up here, and knows by heart the way. I finally glimpse the little cabin in the distance, dark and empty. I collect my last strength, one hand still in his and the other in my pocket to keep its warmth. There’s a bunch of snow in front of the door, but he kicks a little away, as if that’s going to help. Hands go in his pocket, finding the keys. He fumbles with them, finally finding the right one and unlocking the door. He struggles to open it, the snow going too high. I try to help him, using my hands to mow as much of the white coldness away that I can. It finally opens, just enough that one of us can press through at a time. I go first, letting him hold the door open. He quickly follows, squeezing his body through the tight space. 

As the door closes, a blissful silence falls over us. The only sound being the wind howling outside, slamming against the wood walls. I look around the cabin. It’s dark and cold, probably dusty as well. 

“Fuck, what a weather” he exclaims relieved, taking a deep breath and going straight for the bedroom. I follow suit, helping him find new sheets, organising, cleaning stuff away, and sweeping the floor. We share one lamp, moving from room to room as we do the tasks. 

“You know, it was great having someone up here with me this year” 

“Don’t worry about it, give me a treat and I’ll come next year as well”

“You’re that easy?”

“In this area, yes”

He laughs at my response, and I sit down on the couch, finally being able to relax a bit. He sits down beside me, legs touching as he makes himself comfortable. I look over, noticing that his gaze is already on me. Eyes move up and down, taking in every inch of me as I’m laid out on the couch. 

“Staring a bit much are we, Washington?” 

“Can’t help myself”

“I mean, if I was wearing a bikini and sitting in a hot tub, I’d be flattered. But you���re literally looking at wool and a massive jacket” 

“Hey, I know what I’m into, you don’t”

I smile, the playfulness of it all getting to me. 

“I don’t know what you’re into or what I’m into?” 

“The first one you know” 

“That you’re into wool and big jackets” 

“Like thinking about what’s underneath” 

“Good play Josh”

I laugh, standing up and taking a last lap around the cabin. The bedroom’s good, the kitchen’s good and the living room’s great. 

“I think we’re good to go back” 

He stands up as well, grabbing his knees and grunting like an old man. He takes a quick look around, being satisfied with the result. 

“You’re right, it’s starting to get cold” 

We go to the door, and he tries pushing it open. It doesn’t budge. He tries again, putting more force into it than last time. It still doesn’t open. He keeps trying, and I move over to the window to look outside. We’ve been in too long, and the snow is now reaching up to our waists, the storm still going strong. 

“Josh, I don’t think we’ll be able to get out” 

He moves to my side, seeing the snow balling on. 

“Windows” He comments, eyes widening in realisation, glad for the solution he conjured. We try to open it, but to no avail. We try the other one as well, but they’re both frozen shut. 

“Shit, shit, shit” 

“Do you have your phone?”

I reach in my pockets, making myself aware that I left it back at the lodge. He hums, trying to think. 

“Okay, I think I’ll pass sometime during the night, right?”

“I believe so” I try to stay hopeful, even with our clothes, the cabin was freezing. 

“Hey Josh, how about we start a fire?” 

He answers by moving over to the fireplace, sitting down and giving a loud sigh. What was the problem now? 

“Out of firewood” 

“You’re joking” 

“I wish I was” 

I whine out loud. What the hell were we gonna do? The only way out is blocked. Even if we manage to remove some of the snow, the storm would replace it easily, leading to us being exhausted and frozen. 

He walks over, hands going to either side of me and holding tight. I look up, finding his eyes oddly comforting, though being anxious himself. I take a deep breath, meeting his gaze before leaning on him, burying my head in the crook of his neck. I wasn’t going to be so shameless to sniff him, but my body listens before I think. Like warmth and fire, how ironic. 

“Listen, this is going to be great” 

I move away, rolling my eyes and giving him a ‘oh, really’-sarcastic look. He smiles, hands gripping even harder and moving up and down, warming me up. 

“It is! Look, we’ve been cleaning and preparing all day, now we’ll relax, talk and just enjoy the night” 

“Josh, it’s freezing” 

“We have each other. At least I didn’t send you here on your own” He laughs, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Nah, I wouldn’t” 

I sit down on the couch, and he goes into the bedroom to get the covers and some more blankets. We get cozy, sitting beside each other in front of the cold fireplace and telling stories. We talk about Chris and Ashley, as well as Mike and Emily. 

“You have noticed the tension between Jess, Emily and your sister, right?” 

“Who hasn't?” 

We go into detail about our lives, and just now, I realise how little I actually know about him. I haven’t gone beyond surface level, which is partly his fault because of the fake persona he always displays, but still…

“Wait, you had a thing for me?” 

My eyes widen at the realisation, a book which I could never imagine was opened. He once liked me. He thought about me, and felt a certain way. 

“Well, had and had… But, you know”

“Yeah, would be a bit weird for the others, don’t you think?”

“Not as weird as Mike’s triangle-drama” he states, laughing at the man. 

“Isn’t it technically a quadruple-drama?” 

“Wouldn’t that be a foursome?” I think for a minute, intrigued by the affairs. I could be, I bet Mike would love it, but I don’t think that’s the right term. 

“No, that’s just sexual, this is just drama” 

“Speaking of sex and sexual appeal…” Josh starts, and I can help but snort. How the conversation has turned. I never imagined myself talking about this, with him, here. 

“Was all this a plot just to make me tell you this?” 

“Maybe” he answers, a playful smirk on his lips. He loves the direction this is going, he’s intrigued, interested. Of course he is. It’s freaking Josh Washington. 

“Okay then, let me tell you. If we had a fire here, I might do it right here” 

“Really?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time” 

His eyes widens in surprise, brows furrowing in confusion. Oh, it sounds like I’ve done it ‘here’ before, which is absolutely not what I meant 

“You mean that time you and Sam shared this cabin…”

“No, no! Sorry, I worded that wrong. I just meant to say that fire in itself is a bit of a vibe, mood lighting and all” 

“Ohhh, yeah” 

“Not that I’ve done it here, I’ve never had sex on a mountain before”

“You don’t say” his tone is different, something darkly curious in it. I smile at him, aware that I’ve shared a bunch and he hasn’t shared anything. 

“I do, have you?” 

He pauses, looking at the imaginary fire we’ve constructed, keeping us warm. None of us are, which is why we’re automatically sliding closer and closer. We can’t help it, it’s just instinct at this point. 

“No I have not” 

“I’m surprised” 

“What, why?” 

“Well, bring a girl up to a mountain, your secluded beautiful bachelor pad. Who knows what might happen” 

“Are you saying we should…” 

“You wish Washington” 

He puts his hands up in defeat, grinning at my smiling face. I’ve never connected with him this way before. There’s something different about it, as if everything happening is supposed to. We’re supposed to be trapped here, in the ice cold cabin, fighting for warmth together. 

“Maybe I do” 

I laugh, thinking back on all the things I’ve imagined before. I know I have a dirty mind, but when my thoughts are filled with this man, I can’t help myself. I lean my head against his chest, pulling all the layers over us as I close my eyes. 

“Let me know when the storm is over” 

“You know you should never sleep in situations like these” 

“You’re here, I’ll be okay” 

***

I wake up shivering. The wind is still howling outside, and the room is icy. Josh has his eyes closed, probably sleeping. 

“Psst, Josh” I whisper, my body vibrating as I speak. He opens his eyes, body suddenly aware of the cold air surrounding him. 

“Shit, it’s cold” 

“Should we try to get back to the lodge?” I propose, breathing coming in quick and fast. This was not good. We’re literally going to get hypothermia if we keep like this. He stands up, arms around himself as he looks out the window. 

“It has calmed a bit, but seeing our condition, we’ll not be able to get all the snow away” 

“Fuck” I shutter, pressing the covers harder on me as if it’s going to work. He sits down beside me again, starting to remove his clothing. My mouth opens as he keeps going. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Body heat, take your clothes off” 

“You know the first factor that you have hypothermia is that you want to remove your clothing?” I add, the idea being odd. I know it’s a legit thing, but at this point, the covers seem like the best options. 

“So, I guess you are not reason enough?”

“If I wasn’t freezing to death, I would laugh at that” 

He finally reveals himself, taking the last shirt off before moving to his pants. I shake my head, what am I going to do? 

“What are you waiting for, I’m going to freeze to death alone and you have to wait here for backup with my dead corpse” 

I oblige, starting to take off my clothes. The jacket, the sweater, the shirt… 

“How much am I taking off?” 

“As much as possible” 

“Josh, is it really necessary t-” 

“Oh, fuck it” he exclaims, taking hold of my pants and dragging them off, leaving me only in my underwear. He’s quick to lay down, pulling me on top of him and the covers over us. I almost faint from the warmth. His chest is hot, heart beating rapidly as his cold hands run over my naked back. Our legs tangled together, his crotch by mine as I try not to think about our position. I do my best to adjust my breathing, calming myself and forcing my brain to stop the conjuring of dirty images. The silence is deafening, and I ask the only appropriate question that comes to mind. 

“Why shouldn’t you sleep in situations like these?” 

“What?” 

“I know we shouldn’t, but why?” 

His hand keeps drawing circles on my back, occasionally touching the hem of my bra. 

“Because our body temperature lowers when we sleep, we don’t use as much energy, like an energy-saver” 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense. You keep active and work out so your body gets hotter. It’s such a simple concept, I just didn’t really think about it” I exclaim, a bit embarrassed it didn’t click faster. 

“Yeah… You know, there’s other ways to keep warm too” he continues in a whisper, and I move my head, holding myself up as I look down on him. Our faces inch closer, hot breaths colliding. 

“Like…” his hand moves under the hem of my panties, tugging at the fabric. I feel him getting harder under me, poking at my dripping heat. 

“Like-” I interrupt him with my lips, crashing into him. He answers quickly, opening his mouth and grabbing my ass. He squeezes, causing me to moan into him. My arms fly up, one beside his head and one feeling down his toned stomach. I take him in, his warmth, tracing every curve and muscle. 

I start grinding on him, elevating his hardness and making him groan into me. He grabs my thighs, pushing me closer and moving underneath. My body is on fire, kisses getting sloppier and wetter. One of his hands moves to my heat, letting me grind down on his fingers. 

“So this is how you’ve felt about me all this time” he coos, stroking the wet fabric. I force myself not to make sounds so early, after all, he gets me all worked up so quickly. How am I going to keep it up? 

“I can say the same about you” I state as my hand goes down to cup his bulge. He grabs my thigh harder, a weak attempt at controlling himself. My hand goes to trace the hem of his boxers, teasing him with the movements. He jolts into me, making me yelp and lose my balance, falling over him once again. He grabs the back of my neck pushing my lips down on his. His teeth clasp around my lower lip, definitely colouring it red. 

His hands move up to my back, fiddling with the clasp of my bra. It takes a couple of tries, and I try to hide my smile. 

“Need help?” 

“It’s the position we’re in” 

“What, me on top of you?”

“More the freezing cabin-bit, but maybe you’ve got a point” 

He manages to unhook it, dragging it off my arms and throwing it in the clothing pile. I’m about to kiss him again, when he takes hold of my body, one hand on my back and one on my thigh, and rolls us around, making him lay on top. The action leaves me in surprise, it was unexpected, but so is he. I should always be on my toes around him. 

He captures my lips again, mouth moving to my jaw and down my neck. I can’t help the sounds I make, each one a result of his tender touches. He’s warm and cozy, knowing exactly how to make me melt underneath. His mouth travels down my stomach, leaving kisses and bites all over. I whine at the pain, but he quickly licks and kisses the areas better again. Hands are kneading my breast and thighs, coming slowly up to my wet heat. I grab hold of him, not wanting him to go further down. 

“No, please, stay up here with me” 

It’s cold without his chest against mine, it feels empty and alone. He smiles at my request, pushing himself up again and letting me feel his lips. 

“I’m not saying I don’t want to, but-” 

“I know, we’ll keep each other warm” 

He speaks in a tone I’ve never heard before, making butterflies flap around in my stomach. It’s loving and caring. A deep voice which makes my toes curl. I’ve never felt as safe before. He takes hold of my underwear, dragging it down my legs. I help him, kicking it off my feet. He does the same with his, leaving both of us pressed together, in an ice-cold cabin, with a bunch of blankets, naked. I feel him stroke my folds, his hardness pressed against me. I yearn for him, waiting for him to take the first move. 

He does. Chests pressed up against each other, he lowers himself, slowly filling me up. Head is in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily as he keeps going. Shit, he’s big, not even feeling his thighs yet and still pressing in. 

“You’re doing so good for me” he whispers, breathing unevenly and struggling to form the words. Knowing that he’s also feeling this way makes it better. I take hold of his torso, quickly pushing myself completely down on him. We both moan in response, and he doesn’t waste time, starting to move immediately. The cabin fills up with the sound and smell of sex, whimpers and moans in symphony, no one close enough to hear. We’re here, alone and together. 

His pelvis rubs against mine, giving me that extra bit of friction to my core. It starts building up, the warmth, the withholding pleasure wishing to cave. His arm takes hold of my leg, lifting it up, letting him dig himself even deeper. My back arches as he does, reaching my cervix, pain and pleasure shooting through me at the same time. 

“Fuck, Josh I’m gonna come” 

“Mhm, yeah me too” 

He pumps in and out, almost leaving me before slamming into me again. His hand grabs my side harshly, leaving marks which’ll stay for days. My arms go around him, pressing him harder against me, elevating the friction and rubbing. I can’t help it, my nails digging into his back, scraping and crying for release. His lips capture mine in a passionate kiss, and I finally come, clenching around him. Feeling my whole body twitch with pent up energy and ecstasy. He rides me through it, pumping until he digs himself deep, coating my walls in white release. 

The room is filled with deep breaths, bodies tight as his arms go around me, head moving up to kiss my cheek. I stroke his back hand hair, not getting enough of him. I just had sex with Josh Washington, but… was it just to keep warm? My own insecurities get the better of me, and as if on cue, he meets my eyes with his, looking for something. 

“You okay?” 

“I mean, I’m warm” 

“That’s not what I mean” 

I sigh, the high slowly falling, making my body limb and tired. 

“What happens now?” 

He smiles, leaning down and kissing me again, this time, more romantic, more real. 

“I guess we lay here until the sun comes up. Then we get to the lodge, and maybe we can do this again” 

“Again?” 

“You know, really do it again” 

“Fucking hell Washington, that’s not what I mean” 

“I know what you mean, and you should probably stick to calling me Josh”

[just-sg]

And if "just ignore them and write it anyway" doesn't overcome the anxiety, here's alternate advice:

Remember that these are opinions, and it is perfectly reasonable to consider others' opinions, but if you ask enough people, there WILL be mutually exclusive opinions out there. You CANNOT please everyone, as in it is literally physically not possible, you have slightly higher odds of your molecules lining up exactly the right way to jump through a solid wall. There is not a single decision you can ever make that will avoid the chance of someone not liking it; if enough people see your work, someone WILL have an issue with something, which means you don't have to worry about "what if". Might someone misunderstand? Might someone find it annoying or boring or upsetting? Immutably, yes; if the answer is ever no it just means not enough people have seen it yet. So stop trying to do the impossible!

And once you've got that part, think about what you can control. Look at the opinions you're worried about and actually break them down. Why does dirtysocks574774757 hate that trope?

If it's "overdone", is that actually a problem? Is it popular because many people enjoy it? Is it a little cliche, but something you personally enjoy seeing in other words even knowing that it is? Or if the problem with "overdone" is that it's overshadowing other good options, does anything else appeal to you? Is there a way you can add a unique twist to the trope, keeping what you like while also making it stand out and having all the more fun with it?

If it's "unrealistic", are you trying to be realistic? Is this an escapist fantasy or personal venting where making things better/cooler/gritter/edgier/whatever than real life is part of the point? Is pushing this idea harmful, and if so, what about it is the problem? Is there a way to address that part without avoiding everything even slightly adjacent to the trope with a 40 foot pole?

Remember that no one's opinion is objective law. Even if something is overdone to a point of becoming a stereotype, as long as that stereotype isn't spreading harmful misinformation or actively shitting on people, it doesn't mean you have to avoid anything that even might look close as much as possible at all costs, it means be careful.

Ex: Your gay character can be flamboyant, I promise; the problem isn't camp gays existing, it's when the one (1) gay character or couple in a series is always Like That and little if anything else. So just don't do that part! Remember context, too. It's very different having a whole group who all act a certain way vs a group where only one/some do, ya know? I know this post was more about pet peeves and stuff but I'm saying, if even stuff that can be genuinely bad doesn't have to always be, then you also definitely shouldn't be stressing harmless fun tropes.

Above all else: remember it's better to do something right than to do nothing wrong. There is no amount of effort you could put in to make your work appeal to everyone, but the closer you get to making it tolerable to everyone (still impossible to achieve fully), the less likely you are to appeal to much of anyone. So don't worry yourself to death (or worse, to a point of never making anything) avoiding everything that might be offputting. Instead, when you find yourself worried about a potential issue, examine it, weigh your options, and make a conscious choice about if you want to keep, alter, or scrap it. As long as you're being mindful about your decisions rather than just throwing things in with no regard, you should be FINE.

People relate to messy complex characters, and what one person finds "unrealistic" could just be a thing they don't get, but that makes someone else feel incredibly seen and validated. People like stupid indulgent fantasies! And if you need proof people will actively seek out and enjoy reading the same shit over and over, look no farther than "Coffee Shop AU" or "Only One Bed".

In the end, there's little more powerful than passion from a creator. Write what you like, write what you'd want to read, make the points you want to make. There will always be people who just don't like the things you like, and no amount of trying to water yourself down for them will make them anything more than tolerant. So write for you and the people who do like what you like, and put your whole body into it. Someone will always hate it and someone will always enjoy it, and the more you write something you enjoy, the more likely it is that the people who do like it will really, really like it. Don't hold yourself back!

hey, writers. especially neurodivergent writers with anxiety or OCD.

if you see one of those writing advice posts that is literally just, ‘these tropes suck’, ‘this story idea sucks’, ‘this sucks’, ‘that sucks’, ‘all of this is horrible’.. don’t dwell on it.

these are just random people on the internet, okay? they’re just acting like they know everything and that their personal preferences are universal.

you don’t have to listen to them, write whatever you want, regardless of if dirtysocks574774757 on Tumblr/Pinterest doesn’t like it.

(ahem, if a user by the name of dirtysocks574774757 from Tumblr or Pinterest actually does see this.. sorry 😅 i’m sure you understand)

[dragonfly0808]

Hiatus

So… this is a post I’ve been debating with myself these past 2/3 weeks on whether to make or not.

Some of yall may have noticed that I’ve been taking quite a few breaks from s4 and I have unfortunately just finally allowed myself to acknowledge that I’ve hit a bit of a writing block when it comes to my Winx Club rewrite.

I’ve had a few frustrations during s4 (even though I’ve managed to keep my writing up to my own personal standards, it’s been very difficult) and- despite being halfway through the season, unlike past seasons I still have no idea what I’m going to do with s5 and it’s just been getting to me.

And now I am forced to accept that if I keep forcing myself to churn out chapters and stressing out over keeping you all waiting until I’m satisfied with every chapter, the only thing I’ll do is kill my creativity and my love for this rewrite.

I’ve been working on this rewrite for nearly 3 years and it kinda low-key shames me to say that I am officially placing it on hiatus.

To me ‘taking a break’ and ‘hiatus’ are 2 completely different things, I know I’ve taken breaks before but I always had some vague idea of when I’d return but this time… I just don’t know.

I have been working on my Original Novel and works for other fandoms that have just been filling me with inspiration in a way I haven't been able to feel with Winx Club for a bit now.

I hope I have built up enough trust over these past 3 years for you all to believe me when I say that I will be back. I am not the type to leave things unfinished, especially a story that means so much to me and that I am so very proud of and that has helped me grow so much as a writer and has helped me get through some difficult times and express certain emotions and grief in a way I never could’ve if I hadn’t dived into this 3 long years ago.

I was really hoping to post chapters for Xmas and New Years as I have past years but I just can’t- HOWEVER, on January 28th, the third anniversary of Veiled Wings and Shattered Panoramas, I will post… something. I don’t know if it will be a chapter or not but I will do something for the anniversary.

If you wanna know what I’ll be up to; I will be working on my Original Novel since I have finally landed on exactly what idea I want to work on. I will also be working on 2 projects, one for ATLA (Zutara post-canon self-indulgent thingy) and another one that I honestly don’t know if I’ll go through with since it’d be a pretty big project and I’m still thinking about how I’d go about it, but that I am very inspired and excited about.

So yeah, thank you all for your never ending support and- again, I WILL BE BACK, this is not an abandonment of the rewrite, it’s just me having to prioritize my mental health and protect both my love for writing and my love for the rewrite. I’ll be going through my inbox this next week and answer a bunch of stuff that I just haven’t really looked through in a while.

Thank you so much for understanding and for your support. I hope you will wait for the return of the rewrite and that maybe you will give my other projects a chance when I post them. I will be posting a lot of my inner thoughts on the rewrite and my other projects chapters + thoughts on my Ko-fi if you wanna check that out.

I wish you all Happy Holidays!

With eternal love and gratitude,

Yours Truly, Dragonfly

[eurydicees]

re what they are saying about fiyero on twitter - gosh there is too much stuff. they talk about how uninteresting he is, how his presence has no effect on the leads, how he shouldn’t be elphaba’s endgame and doesnt deserve to be, how they want to delete him from the plot (somewhere along those line), how they want to block anyone making any fiyeraba or fiyero tweets or content and much, much, MUCH more like i genuinely do not understand the obsession?

i of course get not liking him, thats normal about any character lol but the way they just cannot shut up about how they dislike him is so….. like really no one is challenging your gelphie content 😭 we really are not interested to challenge your ship. you really dont need to focus on this guy 24/7 but ig you do you i hope they remain sane amidst all the apparent misery lol

well. you know. disappointed by not surprised. a partial fiyero ted talk under the cut. sorry.

it's like. it's just so frustrating to write him off as uninteresting and as having no effect on either elphaba (or glinda). like guys why is the media literacy not happening right now. also how the fuck would you delete him from the plot???? guys his plan is literally how elphaba escapes dorothy. he's the one who saves her from the gale force, TWICE. he literally sacrifices himself for her escape and its his sacrifice that makes her spiral into "wickedness" during no good deed.

also, fiyero is elphaba's endgame in part because he does what glinda cannot bring herself to do. WHICH IS SO VITAL TO THE ENDING. fiyero is the one who makes all of the sacrifices for elphaba that glinda refused, and he both pays the price for it and reaps the reward of it.

glinda and elphaba have a profound effect on each other, obviously, but it's not like fiyero is left unchanged by elphaba. i dont get where this idea that fiyero and elphaba have no dynamic because like??? that's just not true?????

fiyero goes from refusing to confront the difficulties of life to choosing the more difficult path for the sake of morality and loyalty and love because of elphaba (which is also really interesting given how he's, like, kind of a casualty of war in the book more than he is an actual rebel....mostly fiyero's book to musical adapation is #Rough but that's a cool parallel i hadn't noticed before).

glinda begins to see the flaws in the wizard's society, but she actively chooses to be a part of the system anyway. and she regrets it. that's the whole thing abt thank goodness!!!

fiyero, on the other hand, begins to see the flaws in this society and he chooses elphaba--and the life of rebellion that she's chosen--over everything that glinda admits to being unable to resist.

and GOD. guys that's so interesting. HES SO INTERESTING!!! how are you not interested by all of this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

wicked is such a cool study on morality and what the "right" thing to do in such a world is, and what it means to make the decision to do the right thing vs the comfortable thing. fiyero chooses to follow elphaba and he pays the price, but he also doesn't regret it. glinda chooses the "safe" option--but in the end, even if she chooses good then, she's entirely alone in it all.

and that's SO INTERESTING!!!!!!!!! god. whatever. twitter just doesn't get him like you and me get him, anon.

just. it's totally fine to dislike him! i'm not refuting people's right to dislike him. the nature of fictional characters is that sometimes people will dislike them. like that's fine.

but being incapable of shutting up about how much you hate a character just...it stops being "harmlessly disliking a fictional character" and starts being "you are insufferable to talk to." like sorry you're so miserable about fiyeraba but i'm gonna be over here just having fun because that's what fandom is supposed to be about :)

(also, just a major issue with breaking this movie up into two films released a year apart is that any movie-only fans just don't get the point of fiyero's character. it's kind of devastating. ik not all of the people saying that stuff are movie-only but man. the people who are...im BEGGING you to give him a chance in part 2. literally BEGGING you. fiyero is such a good character. he has so many good moments. let the green girl go lives in my head rent free and if they cut that i'll riot.)

tldr; fiyero is SO neat and twitter is just full of cowards.

[mindless-existence1]

More sfw Mha boyfriend headcanons

Authors note: Kinda a part 2 but does relate to the other one at all. My friend helped me with the Ida stuff so thanks pookie. Also this is kinda an in-between fic just so then I can keep myself motivated to write the requests I have

Contents: I think like one curse word

Pt1

Mha Masterlist

My Masterlist

Includes: Bakugo, Denki, Ida, and Tokoyami

Ida would schedule times to hang out with you when he's free. Not because he like hates you or smth but he just has a very set schedule he likes to stick to. If you want to hang out outside of the set time then most likely it'll turn into a study date.

Denki is a yapper and he often yaps about you. His poor friends have to deal with him mentioning you constantly. Something completely random comes up and he's going "Oh I remember y/n was talking about that one time, speaking of them..." he's a simple man you loves his partner.

Tokoyami is a drawer I feel. He'd have a sketch book/journal he carries around for sure. In a not creepy way he'd draw yiu a lot. Like a muse kind of way. He'd never show you butbthen you find it and he has to explain how he just finds you so perfect and then after that he shows you his drawings.

Bakugo would definitely not even realize how in love with you he is untill kirishima or someone mentions it and then he's noticing how different he acts with you. Have him tied around you damn finger.

Ida definitely wakes up hella early to exercise and specifically run (obviously). He'll try to get you to wake up early to but often times he wants to wake up way to early. You just kiss him goodbye most mornings and fall promptly back to sleep.

Tokoyami is a poet I bet. Or at least a song writer which is basically the same thing. His muse? You. In his journel/sketch book he has poems along with the drawings. Another thing he's probably embarrassed about bit high key he's just in love. He has so much to say but is too embarrassed to say it.

Denki would love to share headphones with you. I fear his tase in music would either be shit or the best in the planet. If it's bad you help him shape it to be better. He'd love to keep his in during class so then he can think about you isntead of whatever boring thing you are getting taught. Also I fear he'd forget to charge them all the time.

Bakugo is the type of guy to tell you no while simultaneously doing it. Like you ask him "could you get me a glass of water?" "No is already getting up to get a glass" or he'd tell you know and wait all of 15 seconds before doing it for you.

Denki when he gets nervous will let out little zaps on accident. As most the tickle or leave a slight sting but nothing crazy. So for your first kiss he's freaking out, obviously, and accidently zaps you. Face is bright red and he's now embarrassed for the rest of his life. Definitely wants to go die in a hole but when you start laughing and kiss him anyway he's fine.

Tokoyami would also like to share earbuds with you but like I said before his music taste is immaculate. Personally I like Korn and maybe im biased but I think he'd like that band to. And just all around metal/rock bands. But also just good music in general. Unlike denki he'd charge his earbuds religiously. He'd die without his music same bro.

Bakugo after a hard day of training would go straight to your dorm. Somehow he thinks it's way more comfortable then his. He just plop down on your bed before a shower before changing clothes anything. Which would be ew but he'd eventually do all that but first he needs a kiss and small cuddle with his partner first.

Ida would look up relationship stuff. This is probably cringe but like I fear he'd get nervous about his first relationship and then all the sudden he's looking up "how long should you date before you kiss your partner?" Eventually he realizes he just needs to take everything at his own speed.

[letskilltimetogether]

Omg I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging ;-; I can only offer the excuse of crippling school projects, but I’m back!

Dr. Stone Spoilers for most of the story

Okay so your point about him being a good leader actually opened up a can of worms in my brain. This is def kind of off topic? But I think it’s interesting so I want to write it down for my own sanity.

For a while know I’ve been coining Senkuu as a bad leader, or at least not ideal for personal writing purposes, but your comment made me rethink it. Looking at things with a fresh start, I realized Senkuu is a good leader, but not in the way I was originally imagining. (Doing my best to keep it as canon as possible) Senkuu 1. Cares deeply about people, not just his own 2. Is very strategic and thinks of the future 3. Does not want power. These 3 aspects make him a good leader, especially in the setting of Dr. Stone.

To use an analogy, He would be a very good science club leader, which is kind of what he is. He is dedicated to the craft, and can manage a small group of people with similar goals, and rather than excluding others, he encourages and fights for them to join his club of nerds.

However!

For the first part of Dr. Stone, that works fine. It’s just the Kingdom of Science and the Empire of Might. It’s like 140 people, who although need some coaxing, can work together. But once America hits and they have Zenos people how have very different ideas, and all sorts of other civilizations across the globe… people are going to have conflicting ideas. There’s always going to be Tsukasas, misguided people, and Hyogas and Homuras, people who don’t mean well and try to shape the world in their making. This is where I believe Senkuu is no longer the best choice, as I don’t think he could handle managing and keeping peace between all of these people, in addition to perusing and steam heading science projects. Obviously there’s people to help him do these things, but it’s a lot.

Many people instead make Ryusui the main leader, which is not a bad decision. He’s used to leadership and thrives in positions of power, and cares about the people around him, even if they don’t like him(most of this comes from his confidence/arrogance, but still). He is great at planning and managing people, and is decent at working with people who have different views than him. However he doesn’t really understand the differences between what people say/think they want, and what they need, and he could make bad decisions based on that misconception. In addition, Ryusui is pretty disconnected from the people around him as he had a very different upbringing, and can’t always relate to people. This makes him a caring leader, but unable to properly act this way.

Both he and Senkuu are decent leaders on their own, but still not great. In conclusion, I say the best solution is to have the 5 generals, so some other council, in charge. They balance each other’s faults, this sharing of power relieves the pressure of leading the entirety of humanity from 1 person’s shoulders.

Main tangent over lol.

I def agree about Senkuu trying to save everybody, including Tsukasa, with all of the stuff happening at the beginning of Treasure Island Arc being a lot to juggle. This means to me that his decision to give Hyoga and Homura to the “authorities”/legal system is weak evidence for him being lawful.

I feel like we’re running this thread dry, so I pose another question: How do you feel about the ending of the manga, and how would you change it? I have some strong thoughts about those last few arcs lol.

*offers microphone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other*

Also happy holidays!!

Your honor they're homosexuals

[mer-acle]

It's kind of difficult writing Greek mythology stuff sometimes. Like, you have these characters that have like books worth of lore attached to them, which you obviously can pick and choose from, but the way I usually do it is I find out who the character is and then think about how they would react to their myths if that makes sense.

Like for example, in the Hera and Athena AU, Hera wouldn't do a bunch of stuff she's known for, like the pursuit of Leto or going after Herakles and all that, it makes no sense for the character I made her for this. For this story, without going into too much detail, it would make sense for Leto to be pissed at Hera anyway, even though it's Zeus who wronged her. Still, because of the preestablished lore, it kinda feels like victim-blaming to write them this way, even though the thing that victimized Leto didn't happen in my story? idk if that makes sense.

Kinda got the same thing going on with Hephaestus and Athena, because no version of Hephaestus that I've written and intend to write would do anything "Erechtonius" but like... would I feel weird shipping them? Probably. (not that I want to anyway but yeah. There's something else in one of the AUs that I'm worried is just a tad controversial)

idk I'd be interested in other people's thoughts on this topic