#but I thought it would be easier to have a post with all of it than having it scattered across dms and posts

[secondbeatsongs]

Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman

so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:

at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.

but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!

and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking

(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.

but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)

so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!

lookit that guy! he's a real guy!

both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!

Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast

the more you know!

anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:

when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.

when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!

(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)

for now: we begin

so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.

two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.

so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:

2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage

surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man

...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)

the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that

hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky

okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.

so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"

I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!

(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)

mmm, yes. very smooth

...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!

a new discovery is made every day in this house.

okay, time to start mixing things together.

ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?

(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)

okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.

lastly: the cabbage

oh. oh this is not very nice

next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?

ah. this bowl is too big.

hey, these'll work!

now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.

(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!

look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)

hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.

I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.

I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!

let's build our boy

oh he's so heavy. and wobbly

no no no he almost fell over!!

okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.

and...okay. he is complete.

behold!

gaze upon my beautiful man!

(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)

 now it's time to stab him

and...to devour him

this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.

and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.

it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.

...I don't like this!

and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(

RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.

(note from current!me: I could not.

 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.

after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.

do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?

bad. the answer is: bad.

I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.

do not try this recipe at home)

[runninriot]

No Time For Romance

written for @steddiemicrofic

february prompt: rose | wc: 367 | rated E | tags: Sexual Content/Bathroom Blowjob, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Normal Guy Steve, Established Relationship

They don’t have time for romance. No candles, no roses, no sweet-talk. Not when they barely find a moment of peace between shows and interviews. Time where they can be alone – no cameras pointed at them, no one demanding their attention.

“Hurry up, baby!”

“Not my fault you always wear the tightest pants! How am I supposed to get you out of these? They look like they’re painted on.”

“There’s a thought, maybe I should switch to body paint. You wouldn’t have to undress me at all.”

Steve isn’t sure if Eddie’s joking but it would definitely make this easier.

“Baby, come on,” Eddie whines, needy as always, “You’re killing me.”

“Keep complaining and you won’t get to come at all.”

It’s an empty threat and Eddie knows it but he keeps his mouth shut anyway, behaving for once.

Finally, his cock springs free and Steve wastes no time to sink to his knees.

“Oh, fffuck! God, your mouth’s- ah! So perfect.”

Steve flicks his tongue around the tip, letting the salty taste of skin and sweat and precome fill his senses.

Post-show Eddie is his favourite flavour. Probably his favourite version of Eddie, too, if he had to choose. When he’s pumped up with adrenaline and Steve is the one that gets to taste and touch and fuck him like this. Not the people who desperately wish they could get a piece of him; this is all for Steve.

Encouraged by Eddie’s praise, he takes him deep, holds himself down until his lungs scream for air. He’s moving his head up and down, swallowing Eddie’s cock like it’s his last meal, feels high on moans that are too loud not to get them caught.

And right on cue, there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Coming!” Eddie yells and it doesn’t take much before he makes true to his words, spills his release down Steve’s throat.

The moment ends to too soon, like always.

“Can’t wait for this tour to be over, so I can take my time with you. Gonna shower you with roses and love you so good,” Eddie promises before he kisses him long and deep.

And for now, this is enough.

[lipglossanon]

Until the End

Real son!Leon S. Kennedy x real mom!reader (one shot)

Warnings: incest, dead dove, mom/son, simp Leon, cnc (reader’s “not” into it at first 😉), kissing, dirty talk, teasing, oral (f receiving), just the tip 😩, unprotected sex, creampie, mommy kink to the extreme

not proofread ✍️ it’s been a while since I’ve worked on anything so hopefully this doesn’t suck lmao the ending is just kinda meh

shoutout to the discord; I posted some of this WIP and they gave me the inspo to finish 🤭

title from the Breaking Benjamin song

It’s a quiet affair when you sign the divorce papers. Your husband—of twenty four years—deciding that he’d rather live overseas with his secretary instead of sticking it out; it’s not something you would have foreseen, but as they say hindsight’s always 20/20. It upset you at first but once the indignation died down, you realize you feel more relief than anything. Things have been strained for years and then in the last five, he’s barely been home long enough to chat about your days. 

The one who took it the hardest out of anyone is Leon. Your husband offered him a place to stay, but he chose to live with you (being a mama’s boy through and through). After his father left, Leon angrily refused to speak with him anymore and instead focused on his work and trying to pick up any slack around the house. Not that you hadn’t already been doing that for years, but it’s sweet of him to want to take care of you. 

He dotes on you now, making sure you’re eating and drinking and taking care of yourself. His friends tease him about it or rib him about having a milf (which you had the unfortunate chance to overhear as you walked into the living room). Meeting Leon’s mortified gaze, you smile tightly and walk through to the kitchen. He kicks them out and apologizes profusely to you, face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he murmurs how sorry he is and promises it won’t happen again. 

Things go back to normal for a while. The absence of your husband is something you don’t even notice anymore. Leon is more than capable of moving out and living on his own, but he says it’s closer to work and easier to keep an eye on you if he lives at home. Besides, he told you with a serious face, he doesn’t have a girlfriend to make things awkward so for now you just need to chill out and let him take care of things. 

He gets a promotion at work, no longer relegated to being just a traffic cop, and you couldn’t be more proud! Your offer to take him out to a nice dinner gets turned down; in its place is an evening of take out and drinking. Since it’s the weekend, neither of you are worried about being hungover the next day, so you both end up drinking more than you usually would. 

Later, Leon walks with you from the dining room to the living room, each of you laughing at some silly joke that you can’t even remember. 

Settling together on the couch, he tucks into your side, face nuzzling against your neck like he used to do as a little boy. You giggle and run your hand through his hair. 

“You’re so sweet, Leon,” you murmur, “but aren’t you a little too old to be cuddling your mom?”

“Uh uh,” he whines, making you laugh harder, “always need you, mama.”

“Okay, okay,” you pat his head, slumping further into the couch, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, “my little boy’s all grown up.”

Feeling maudlin now at remembering that the passage of time waits for no one, you sniffle and it draws Leon’s attention.  

“What’s a’matter?” He mumbles, hazy blue eyes sharpening to see your tears, “mom?”

You smile and cup his cheek. Neither of you have shied away from physical affection; however, you remember on more than one occasion you thought Leon went overboard with cuddling and snuggling with you. Now that seems like a silly thought, he just missed you during his long hours on duty. 

“Nothing, just so proud of you,” you smile, dropping your hand to rub his shoulder. 

He kisses your cheek and you coo softly. Moving closer, he lands another soft kiss to the corner of your lips. Blaming it on the alcohol, a warm thrum of heat sings through your stomach. 

“Mama,” he whimpers, lips clumsily landing on yours. 

You freeze, body heavy and thoughts slow. Leon presses his mouth more firmly against yours and you gasp, lips parting under his and he eagerly kisses you harder. Whining, you try to tug your head away but he follows you, kisses becoming rougher while pressing you deeper against the couch. 

Your hands come up and tangle in his hair, but instead of pulling him back they scrape against his scalp, making him groan deliciously. He shifts, pulling away to tilt his head at a better angle before pressing another hot kiss against your lips. You sink into it, clit pulsing in arousal, mouth tingling from each sloppy kiss from your son.

Finally, you twist away, panting heavily while Leon rests his forehead against your jaw. 

“Mama, why’d you stop?” He presses a soft kiss under your ear, making you shiver.

“Leon, this—this isn’t right,” you plead, eyelashes fluttering as he nips and sucks your neck.

“Just this once,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin and sending chills down your body. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you, mommy.”

His words and actions are muddling your mind… and you’ve been lonely for so long. Swallowing, you breath out a shaky breath, mind made up.

“O-okay,” your body feels hot, muttering that out loud.

Moaning, he bites your jaw then kisses your cheek. “Thank you.”

He shows his appreciation by kissing the breath from your lungs; your son’s excitement ramps up your own, cunt pulsing with need as slick fills your panties. Wet, drugging kisses pass between you until you completely lose yourself to the feeling, making out with Leon until your lips are swollen. 

You jump, feeling his fingers trail along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and brushing against your panties.

“God, you’re so wet. Wanna bury my face in your pussy.”

You moan, and he teases your cunt through the soppy fabric.

“You can’t,” your hips grind down into his hand.

“Okay, promise I’ll behave,” he chuckles.

Without another word, he flips your skirt up and slips your panties down your legs to bunch at your ankles.

“Oh mommy,” he moans, fingers tracing your slit up and down before circling your clit, “your pussy’s so soft. Fuck me.”

Your hips buck and he bites his bottom lip, fingers rubbing up and down your pussy lips. 

“So, so soft,” he whispers, eyes glued to where his fingers are touching, “my stubble’s gonna feel so rough when I kiss her, mama.”

You whine high and reedy but shake your head, “No, no, this is all I’m allowing, Leon. You promised.”

“Just a kiss or two,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “she needs it, look how soft and sweet she is, just begging for my mouth. C’mon, mama, just let me have a couple of kisses.”

Your resolve cracks at his pleading. 

“Just a couple, then we stop,” you try to sound firm but your voice comes out breathier than you’d like. 

“Mmhmm, thank you, mama,” he kisses the side of your cheek then the corner of your lips.

You feel a little disappointed that he stops to kneel between your legs. He brings his hands up to spread apart your cunt, slick dripping from your hole as his mouth hovers over your mound. 

“Oh fuck, mom,” Leon whines, tongue lapping at your clit, “so fucking wet. Am I making you this wet? God, your pussy’s so fucking sexy.”

Another groan and he’s fluttering his tongue across your pudgy bud before sucking it gently into his mouth. He pulls back and kisses the hood of your clit. You moan softly and cant your hips up. 

“W-we shouldn’t, baby,” you plead, fingers tangling in his hair again, but not pushing him away. 

“Been wanting to do this forever, dreaming about how I wanna lick your pretty pussy til you cream all over my face,” he pants, dilated eyes watching your face, “gonna make you cum over and over tonight.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy, walls clamping around the slippery muscle, “Leon! 

He hums and grinds his nose against your clit as his tongue fucks in and out of your hole, spit dripping down your ass onto the couch cushions. Your eyes flutter as your orgasm winds tight in your abdomen. 

“Need to eat you out everyday, mama,” he pulls back, slick shining across his lips and chin, “treat this pussy like she deserves. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

He sucks your clit back into his mouth, hot tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. It only takes a few more teasing licks before your climax breaks over your body like a tidal wave. Toes curling, your hands tug on his hair making him moan, tonguing at your fluttering cunt until he finally pulls away with one last sucking kiss. 

He crowds you on the couch, thick forearms hooking under your knees to keep you spread open. He nods down to his jeans; your eyes flit from his face to the bulge pressing obscenely against his zipper. 

“Pull it out,” he murmurs, blue eyes nearly black. “Take my cock out so I can stuff your cunt, mommy.”

Shaking your head, your voice cracks, “No, baby. That’s going too far.”

He whines, “But it hurts, mama. You’re being so mean. At least jerk me off.”

Biting your lip, his pouty mouth has you reaching forward, undoing his pants and tugging them down his thighs. You gently ease his dick from his briefs, uncut head sticky with precum. You both moan when you grip his stiff cock, the blood hot skin against your palm turning you on more than you ever thought. Thumb pressing against the slit, you smear the pearlescent sheen across his tip until he’s whimpering. 

“Mommy,” his hips thrust forward, “it’s sensitive.” 

He sags forward, and your legs slide up his arms until your calves press against his biceps. This new position has his dick grinding against your swollen cunt, the head grazing across your pudgy clit. Your fingers loosely circle the base of his cock, the backs of your knuckles brushing against his balls. 

“So good, fuck,” he chokes out, humping your pussy. “Just let me cum like this, let me mark you up, mama. Yeah, just coat this sexy fucking pussy with my cum.”

Keening, you let go of his cock to feather your fingers against his heavy balls. “You can, you can cum all over me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, pink lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he watches his cock slip between your pussy lips to rub against your hole. “Mommy, just let me put the tip in, please? Promise it’ll just be the tip. Please.”

You know you should say no, but then again you should’ve put a stop to this before it even started. Just the tip wouldn’t be so bad, you think, eyes greedily taking in his fat, drippy tip. It wouldn’t hurt to let him try it out.

“Just the tip, Leon,” you murmur, flicking up to meet his blown out gaze. “But only this once.”

“Thank you,” he groans, “love you so much, mama.”

Moving one hand from his hold on your leg, he grips his cock and guides the head to your clenching hole. His thumb presses down on the head as he rocks forward, slipping the tip into your wet cunt. You suck in a deep breath at the same time he grunts. The other hand gripping your thigh tightens, fingertips tightly digging into the soft skin. 

Leon blows out a breath, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “You feel so good.”

He ruts the head of his cock in and out of your pussy, the wet schlick loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Your hands move over your head to drape over the back of the couch, fingers grasping at the cushions. 

“Can I—,” he cuts himself off, eyes squeezing shut. “Can I go a little deeper, mommy?”

Your slick hole clenches down on him and he whimpers. 

“H-how much deeper?” You hear yourself say, mouth running away from you. 

“Just an inch or two,” he gasps, feeling overwhelmed by the heat of your cunt. “Pretty please, mommy.”

You nod, eyes unable to look away from where he’s splitting you open, dick driving deeper and deeper—going so much farther than a few inches—into your pussy until he’s completely buried in your pulsing walls. 

“Leon!” You cry out, head falling back as your cunt stretches around the fat girth of his cock.

“Sorry, mama,” he practically slurs, pussy drunk already. “Didn’t mean to, it just slipped.”

You whimper at the pleasure pain of his tip kissing your cervix as he grinds himself against your cunt. Clit rubbing against his pelvis makes you squeeze and clench around his dick, in turn making him groan from deep in his chest. He barely pulls out before fucking back into your sopping wet hole. 

“So perfect,” his face pinches in pleasure. “God, mom, your pussy—gonna make me cum so fast.”

You dig your hands into the couch and roll your hips down into his thrusts, “You need to pull out, baby. It’s bad to cum inside. You’ve gotta pull out of mommy’s cunt.”

He makes a broken sound from the back of his throat and drives his cock into you with harsh, pounding thrusts. 

“No, I’m gonna cum in you, make you nice and full,” he bites out, sweat dripping from the straight line of his nose onto you. “Stuff you so full, mama.”

You can’t hide how his words make your pussy clamp down on his cock, his own hips stuttering as your cunt tries to milk his cock. 

“Yeah, mommy, squeezing me so good, so fucking good,” he pants. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

He reaches down, hot palm a brand across your mound as his thumb teases your clit. You thrash against him, but it’s no use as he strums your swollen bud in rough little circles that makes your thighs tremble. 

“Leon,” you moan, a second orgasm quickly building in your core. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop the frantic pumping of his hips, fucking his cock into your squelching heat while he rubs your clit—his blue eyes jumping between your face and your pussy. Mouth dropping open, he groans, mumbling praises and promises under his breath. Pinching your clit between the knuckles of his first and middle finger, he gives pulsing squeezes to the sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re cumming loudly. 

Your back bows, fireworks going off in your brain, dimly realizing that Leon’s gripping your hips as he wildly fucks your cunt. 

“Fuck, fuck, mom,” he chokes on the word, burying himself balls deep in your soft, wet walls and spilling his thick cum as deep as possible. 

You whimper, squeezing down on him as the hot splash of his spend fills your cunt. He eventually stills, hips still snugly pressed against you as close as possible. Slick and jizz begin to slowly leak out from around his softening cock. He hisses when he pulls out, then immediately whimpers, fingers playing with his cum dripping from your hole.

“Leon, stop, it’s sensitive,” you gasp, eyes slipping closed when his fingers slide up to rub across your fat clit. 

“Sorry, mama,” he pulls back only to drop to his knees, eyes dark, mouth hovering tantalizingly close to your sloppy cunt. “Let me kiss it better.”

[burning2know]

Since people seem to be interested in inferring the real political opinions of the devs (or whoever's vision was realized in these games), here are some shower thoughts.

disclaimer: just some personal observation, i'm pretty ignorant about history and politics.

So imo, Anders follows very much the cultural narrative of a post 9/11 world (at least in my bubble). Violence is bad (especially terrorism), and we're meant to not fall prey to its tantalizing justifications because that's a slippery slope to war, genocide, the whole nine yards and then some. (We had to allow some time to mske it okay to even talk about capital T terror and sympathizing with perps).

DAI sets Solas up to redeem the writers for Anders, potentially. And given recent events in the past, idk, few months, year, I've seen that north american society no longer thinks about violence the way I thought it did (yes social media has a big role to play in that). Considering this background, da4 seems weirdly regressive and also on trend, all things considered. Opinions on the quality of the game notwithstanding.

Now I feel like the expressed-in-public sentiment is that violence is okay depending on which side you agree with because peaceful protests don't do fuck all, whereas some 10 odd years ago, it was that we like the change but not the violence to bring them about... Because change without violence is possible. But we've proven to ourselves time and again that the chsnge that happens without violence is overwhelmingly one-sidedly benefitting the powerful. There are through-lines over time, for sure, but things were indeed not always like this. The narrative of who is allowed to be sympathetic used to be controlled by keeping us ignorant, whereas now, it's being controlled by moral imperatives. Because it's gotten a lot easier to know.

Judging by what made it into the artbook, they were never going go where I hoped. But I think the da4 libs aren't quite the same flavour as the DA2/DAI libs. And that's... Something (neutral). Whether that reflects a single perspn on the team's views or the company's, I can't say. But it tracks with what I think is the zeitgeist.

However. I think it'd be remiss to not account for the change in leadership and vision of the world of thedas between dai and da4. To argue that the writers had always been like this is to ignore a major part of the problem. I felt that something had fundamentally shifted between dai and da4. The op's critique not withstanding (and I think you're right). The characterizations in dai were a hell of a lot more progressive than in da4, if only by virtue of da4 being extremely regressive through its bare-faced simplicity. In a nut shell, I just don't believe that the people who created Mythal and Flemeth and Morrigan would write the characters in da4. And it aggrieves me to have them lumped together with the likes of miserable little epler... They are not the same. This was not always the world view of DA.

Lastly, and this point is inane af, but I offer a more mechanistic explanation of the grace offered to blackwall. blackwall killed a single noble family, you can count that on one, mayhe two hands. Servants do not count as real people (I come back to this later, bear with me). anders and solas sought to destroy institutions forming the very fabric of society. The latter is much more visibly destructive, obviously, since such visible destruction is the ultimate goal. Whereas the violence perpetrated by the accepted authorities and instutions are so mundane as to be invisible or inevitable or "do not count" just as the servants thom rainier killed did not count. It's seemingly worse on an utilitarian scale. this often is used as justification against non-sanctioned violence and progressive ideas in general.

genuinely curious how the writers and larger dragon age audience would treat thom rainier if instead of being appropriately* repentant and putting himself in prison he blew up a major orlesian government building to instigate a chevalier rebellion or tried to have someone do some necromantic blood magic ritual involving uncertain danger and possible sacrifices to bring the innocent children he ordered killed back to life

[thewavesofmel]

The Voicemail

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Hello! I have read some Bucky Barnes fanfics over the years and have written some other fanfiction on AO3 myself, but never felt brave enough to write anything like this. So this is my first try writing a Bucky Barnes X Reader fanfic and wrote something today on the spur of the moment and felt brave enough to post it. Depending on how I feel, I may post this on AO3 too. Apologies in advance for any errors!  Additionally, this is my own writing, and I do no consent to it being posted as original content by any other individuals other than myself.

Summary: Bucky gets a voicemail from you after two months of not seeing each other. 

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, Minors DNI. Smut. With some plot. Friends with benefits. Dirty Talk. Mutual Masturbation. Phone sex (kinda). Voicemail. 

************************************************************************

It’s been two months. Two months of texts almost sent and a finger hovering over your name in his contacts. Two months without your voice, your smile…your touch..your kiss…your moans...and your body. Two months without you. The decision was mutual. You both decided it was for the best. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good it was when you both were together. No one made him feel as good as you did. No one knew their way around his body like you did. You knew exactly what made him feel good and how to get him off. You respected his limits and were always eager to try new things. You both have the philosophy of pleasing your lover as much as possible and at least three orgasms before the next round. At first, you both were amazing for each other. You both were each other's confidant and stress relief. You were each other's solace, both when life got hard or when you just needed to feel someone else's body on yours. And somewhere it just all fell apart and got too messy and too intense. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good you feel. He couldn’t help but miss the sound you make when you cum and how sweet you tasted when his tongue was deep inside you.  He went through the motions, he went on missions, spent time with the team, went to his therapist, but the thought of you was constantly in the back of his head. The decision to not speak to each other after the break-up wasn’t agreed on or even said, it just happened. He longed to speak to you. God, he wanted to do so much more than just talk. He wanted to fuck you slow and deep just like you liked. Until you begged him to go faster and deeper making you scream out his name. But if he couldn’t have that, he at least wanted to at least just hear your voice. But at the same time, he didn’t even know what to say. So he just didn’t say anything, it was just easier. He thought you would do the same. Until he was proven wrong. 

That night he just got back to his apartment after a week-long mission. It was tedious and intense. As soon as he got home he just wanted to shower and sleep. And if sleep wouldn’t come, he just wanted to fucking lay down for more than 10 minutes. He pushes his still wet hair out of his face as he walks from the bathroom to the bed in comfortable sweatpants. He plops himself on the bed to lay down and sighs deeply with the urge to just roll over and shut his eyes. He decided to check his phone before he wrestles with his sleep and what he sees makes him sit straight up. 

It’s a voicemail. He must have had his phone on silent, he didn’t even hear it ring. Only a few people would call him at this time of the night, usually for a mission. But it wasn’t any of them, it was you. 

Maybe he shouldn’t listen to it. Maybe not hearing from each other if for the best. But all he could think about was hearing your voice. He couldn’t open the message fast enough and pressed play. 

“Hey, it's me.” your voice starts and his breath catches as he hears you.  

“I wanted to... I don't know, I just wanted to... I shouldn't even be calling you, should I? We hadn’t really said we should stop talking to each other. But it’s just… you know.” you stop to sigh and he sighs in agreement.

“But we did make an agreement to stop seeing each other. And I know we said it wasn't a good idea, but I just... I just can't stop thinking about you” you say softly and he feels his heart start to pound. You missed him too and it felt so good to hear you say it. He almost played that part over just to hear you say it again but he wanted to hear what else you had to say. 

“I just wanted to call you and hear your voice. I miss you. I really do. I miss... I miss talking to you. I miss... being around you. I... I miss your touch. I miss kissing you. God damn it, I miss fucking you. Um... I know that... us being... in the same room is difficult and I think that's why we are avoiding each other but I just….I don't want you to…I want you to be close to me because when you're close to me…fuck, so many things happen.” you breathe out, sounding lost in thought. And he breathes with you, his body starting to react to your words. The same tingle he gets in his body starts to make him heat up and he bites his lip.

“I… I... well... First of all, I get out of breath like how I feel out of breath now. Um, I, uh... My heart starts pumping fast. And, um... My body, it feels tingly. All over. And, um... And... And I start to get... So freaking... wet. Just your voice makes me so wet.” you slightly moan. 

“Fuck baby” he whispers in response and he can’t help but let out a small whimper. His cock grows hard at hearing how wet he makes you and the effect he has on you.

“And I... I don't want to let that go, honestly. The way you touch me and how you caress me. The way you know that I like it when you bite my ear. And you trail your tongue from my chest to my neck. Just the right spots to kiss and bite. And the way you kiss all over my body…. how you touch…the way you know how to touch my breasts…and pinch my nipples just right…and how you look into my eyes when you suck on them… fuck you know how wet that makes me.” you continue on in that same tone you use when his fingers are deep inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. He takes his free hand and starts to rub on his cock through his sweatpants. Hearing that sweet voice filled with need turns him on so much and it’s been so long without you. 

“And fuck… your hands…both of them are perfect…the way your fingers are so…justt so fucking good…. and the way you know to finger me, not too fast, not too slow, but just right…how you curl your fingers right up into my G spot…and rub my clit…makes me cum so hard on those fingers” you whimper. By now he picks up on the rustling and wet sounds along with your words. You are touching yourself while you talk and you aren’t trying to hide it. And by now, he fully has his cock out and can’t help but stroke himself right along with you, desperate to hear more. 

“And then the way that you... damn the way that you fuck me. You know just how to fuck me. Having you inside of me…it feels so fucking good. The way that you start slow, and you keep going…going so deep ... .it's amazing. Mmmm fuck so amazing, fuck baby.” you start to struggle with your words and the sounds of you rubbing and fingering yourself intensify. He fucking loves when you struggle with your words like that when you are feeling good. It spurs him to start to stroke himself faster.  

“Fuck princess, you sound so so fucking good” he moans out as he strokes and continues to listen.

“But then…when I say I need more…you just… fuck…you just pound right into me… so fucking fast and deep…you pound into me so good until I can’t feel my fucking legs… and you fill me up so good… and the way you rub my clit when you pound into my pussy…your moans when you are deep inside of me…and how you tell me what a good girl I am, and tell me how I feel so good, and tell me how close you are and how you want to feel me squeeze your cock as I am about to cum…and then you go even deeper…and fuckkkkkk….baby it makes me cum so fucking hard. I want that…fuck baby, fuck I want you baby I-” you suddenly stop talking cry out his name and as soon as he hears you cry out he cums. He cums hard all over his hand and throws his head back as he moans out your name. He hasn’t cum with you in so long and it feels so fucking good. He takes a moment to catch his breath as he listens to you do the same. 

“I…I miss that so much. I miss you so much. The way you take care of me after….how you lay me on your chest and kiss me gently and... hold me in your arms. I miss that. I…want it back. I know it's a lot and I know that we shouldn't… but fuck… I don't think I can do without it. I miss that. I miss you.” you whisper to him and the message ends. 

He sits and stares at his phone as his body reacts. Reacts to the desire and desperation he hears in your voice. Your need for him. You need him. You want him. And fuck, he wanted you. Before he could realize what he was doing, he was cleaning himself up, putting on a fresh shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket with his black boots. He grabbed his keys, locked up, and was out the door. You wanted him. You needed him. And he wouldn’t keep you waiting a minute longer.  

[numberonetacostan]

(What I have for) Feral Taco :3

Hello my friends!!!^^ Here is the long post to go along with the drawing of feral taco I made the other day because people showed interest!!! :D It made me so very happy. I apologize if this au isn’t as neatly put together as some others I’ve posted, I straight up did not expect to be typing this out. I thought this would be an au that stayed in Loomy’s daydreams but then people asked so here we are!!! :) Please enjoy!!!!

So Taco’s mental health is absolutely awful after Mic leaves her. Just terrible. So bad. And instead of teleporting away with Mepad’s comatose body after Mic quits the game, she just… gives up. Leaves him there, and walks back to her home in the woods, which I like to think of as being on the other side of the island. Judging from the map we see Mepad display in episode 14, the forest stretches out nearly to the other end of the island, yeah? I tend to think Taco only goes to the edge and area closer to the hotel to meddle in the competition and talk to Mic. As for her actual living space, it’s much easier to stay hidden deep in the forest on the side of the island that everyone else doesn’t live on. So that’s where Taco is. Alone. For quite some time. Season 3 happens, season 2 ends (Without the disaster that the finale was, solely because it doesn’t work well with the timeline of this au. So, uh, Cobs tripped and fell off of MeCloud and caught on fire and died. Suitcase decimated Knife in uh. Jump rope contest. Or something. Good with everyone? Good.), and the show has been on hiatus for a good few months, as a nice break for the cast before season 4 starts. Other than Taco, who has just been alone and getting worse for quite some time now. 

SO! The bulk of this would start around the time that said hiatus will be ending, all the contestants are at the hotel, including those who normally live on Paradise Island, because Mephone is getting ready to announce the next season, including who’s going to be participating! (They still don’t know he made them. This is about TACO. We’re not doing finale stuff here.) Most importantly, out of all of said contestants, are Bot and Goo. This is a Loomy AU you thought there’d be no propaganda in here? No. Taco will form relationships with whoever I please. So, Bot and Goo being Bot and Goo, go and play in the woods!! They’re exploring!! Having fun!! Playing tag, hide and seek, and enjoying nature!!! They stay relatively close to the hotel, for safety purposes, but end up going just a tad too deep into the woods as it’s getting dark. And it’s not called the Perilous Woods for no reason, hm? There’s some real Perilous stuff in there!! It could be a bear, a big snake, a wolf, a dragon, whatever you please since we lack a real world would-be location of Inanimate Island and thus we don’t really know what sort of wildlife would be there. I mean, I have a theory or two, but that’s not the point. Anyways, Bot grabs Goo and bolts. Neither of them are particularly edible, but they can’t be recovered by MeLife and would rather neither of them get maimed, yeah?

They get away from the danger, yay! But now they’re quite lost. Not yay. And now it’s become evening, so it’s dark. Bot does glow in the dark, at least their plush does, but we’ve seen how dark that forest can be during the day in episode 9. They’re nowhere near bright enough to see more than a foot or so ahead of them. And with how dense it is, it wouldn’t be easy for them to extend their legs and look back towards where the hotel is. So, to reiterate, they’re very lost in the thick, dark forest. Not good. Spooky noises all around, two very scared little guys. Especially when they hear rustling in the bushes, coming closer. And closer. And closer. And out from the darkness, they see a single eye staring at them, and scream!!! Until a flashlight is clicked on, and a very confused and unimpressed Taco is looking at them. She’s significantly more crack than she was the last time anyone (Mic) saw her, with one of her eyes whited-out and unseeing, but it’s definitely her!! And she’s holding some fishies skewered on a stick!!! Remember the fishies they’ll come back. 

Now, I don’t think Goo would really know much about Taco, if he knows about her at all, but Bot would definitely have heard about her, at least by virtue of having Fan as a Dad. But! They are very lost, and Taco is kind of their only option here!! So Bot asks her for help!! They’re lost, and need to get back to the hotel. Taco doesn’t really respond, but just sort of continues on where she was walking. Bot tries to get her attention again, but she doesn’t say anything. Once she reaches the bottom of a large shrub though, she holds the bushes open behind her, indicating that they should follow. So it seems like she’s gonna help them get back!! Bot and Goo both try to talk to her while they’re walking, but she doesn’t say anything back. Just keeps looking ahead, occasionally stopping to listen out for any potential predators. After a bit of walking, though, it turns out that she hasn’t led them back to the hotel. She pushes the top off of a stump, and points down, indicating for the two of them to go inside. Obviously, when a disheveled homeless woman you only know through tales that don’t paint her in a good light wants you to go down into a mysterious hole, you would not be too keen on doing so. 

So, Goo is spooked, and Bot’s not liking it either, so they insist Taco lead them back to the hotel. Taco shakes her head, and points down into the stump again. They insist again, Taco points again. They get nowhere, until Bot gets fed up, and turns around to try and search for the hotel on their own again, to which Taco stops them, and finally speaks. And it’s pretty obvious why she wasn’t talking before, because her voice sounds awful. Taco hasn’t spoken at all since Mic left. Why bother? She doesn’t have anyone to talk to, and she’s too upset to be talking to herself. So, her voice is quite hollow and hoarse, when she tells Bot that it’s too dangerous. The hotel is too far, and there’s too high a risk they won’t make it with all the perilousness in the Perilous Forest. If Taco, who’s lived there for years were to go, it would be one thing, but with Bot and Goo? Who are in the forest for the first time? No good. She’ll take them back once the sun’s come up, but for now it’s safer for them all if they take shelter for the night. 

Bot isn’t connected to MeLife, and Goo would quite frankly be happy to not be in the scary dark forest, so they concede and go down into Taco’s hidey hole house with her. It’s… well it sucks. It’s just a big hole. There’s a pile of leaves and moss. Uh. There’s a couple lemons. That’s uh. That’s it. Goo is trying to be a nice little fella, as he is, but he can’t really think of anything particularly nice to say, so he just ends up saying “This is a …place you got here!!” Taco is not amused. She sits down on the dirt floor and gestures to the moss/leaves pile. It’s relatively untouched, since although it was where she used to sleep, she hasn’t slept much for a while now, yeah? As Bot and Goo sit down (or whatever Goo does… just kind of droops a bit I suppose) Taco starts preparing the fish to eat!! With… her bare hands. Or rather, claws. She probably did have tools at one point, but after everything she gave up on maintaining them, and they became rather useless. So, she just does it by hand, wiping the blood and gore off on the dirt walls/floor or even her own lettuce. Quite a disturbing sight. Bot gives a polite but strained “no thank you.” Goo nearly cries. And this was not Taco’s intention!! We already know how bad she is with other people and their feelings, and she’s been in a depression for months!! This has just become the norm for her, she is not trying to scare them!! And doesn’t feel good when Goo is upset!! But of course, this is Taco being faced with emotions, so she fumbles around a bit, taking back the fish and trying to give Goo a lemon with the hand that isn’t soaked in fish blood!! It’s sour, but she does not have any other food stored up. She didn’t leave her little hidey hole for quite some time after her break up, so any storage she had is all used up. Besides, I think Goo would enjoy sour things well enough. Bot is a robot so I’m assuming they technically don’t need to eat and would just chill and let Goo enjoy his lemon. 

So Bot and Goo snuggle up and go to sleep, Taco sits in the dark for a few hours because she doesn’t trust them in her den unsupervised and also has barely slept for months <3. But once light starts seeping in from above, she wakes the two of them up to start the trek back to the hotel. Which, they realize as they start walking, is a pretty long trek. So, to fill the time, Goo tells a story!! For hours. Bot does their best to pay good attention!! Taco wasn’t paying attention when he started talking, much less midway through hour 3. And, remember earlier when I mentioned that you could imagine any sort of creature to be the thing chasing Bot and Goo? Well, not this time. I love bears, they’re cuddly and fluffy and don’t actually attack humans that much. Because they prefer fish and fruits and vegetables. Now, consider who of our three characters here would be absolutely scrumptious for a bear to eat. Because she’s full of vegetables. So, a bear comes and tries to eat Taco, Bot and Goo are quite rightfully very frightened, and Taco pulls out her space shooter, shoots it like a sick horse, and keeps walking. The founding members of the cheer factory are surprised, and have to scramble to catch up with her after a moment, because what the actual fuck was that. Well. I don’t think Goo knows the word fuck but still. They ask fair questions, like about how often she gets attacked by bears and why she has a gun, but Taco isn’t talking again and just keeps walking. Goo doesn’t go back to his story, so they just end up walking in silence, until they reach the edge of the forest!! There’s the hotel!! Hooray!! Taco points to the hotel, and immediately turns around to leave. Goo and Bot do thank her for helping them get back though, even if she doesn’t say anything back. 

They are immediately swamped upon entering the hotel. Fan is sobbing while holding Bot, and Test Tube is joining the hug even if she isn’t crying out the entire Atlantic Ocean. Goo is very much checked up on and doted upon too, even if none of the other contestants are his parents, they all probably have a mutual agreement to keep an eye on such a little and whimsical fella, yeah? But anyways, uh, the others had been looking for them for more or less the entire night and very much want to know where they’d disappeared to, of course!! So they explain getting lost and running into Taco which makes the air turn rather awkward, since she’s such a taboo topic in the hotel. When asked how she was, Bot and Goo mostly just look at each other like (⚆₋₍⚆). That would be even more concerning. Goo eventually just says a little “mm, well… if you don’t have anything nice to say you shouldn’t say anything…” Because. All they have to report is that she looked terrible, barely spoke, had blood on her half the time, and killed a bear that tried to eat her without flinching. And that’s. Very concerning. 

I honestly don’t have as much to say from here, since as I said I never expected to actually be sharing this concept, so it’s still really more of a concept rather than an au, but I’d say a small group goes to check on her here, and with Pickle’s permission (remember, only Knife and Soap know Mic had worked with her), offer her a room in the hotel. I mean, they still don’t like her, but Bot and Goo’s description of her ripping into fish with her bare hands for sustenance and having a nearly-falling-apart shell, they feel it pretty inhumane to not try to help her, yeah? And Taco is not having it. She opens up her little stump-roof-thing when Bot knocks and they and Goo call for her, but immediately slams it shut upon seeing they’ve brought more people, and refuses to come out, even when offered the hotel room. Taco is in the pinnacle of her self-hating era here, like she is doing so fucking bad. Remember when Brian said she’d be way worse off without Mepad? Well, here she is without Mepad, very much worse off. She believes herself incapable of changing!!! She would think going into the hotel would be the worst idea ever. She’d think she’d probably kill someone or steal something. She’d think OJ is an idiot for trying to let a kleptomaniac with a history of violence into his and the others’ place of living. 

And it would take quite a lot for her to be convinced, not even to go to the hotel just for a visit or an actual meal, but just to leave her den when she isn’t 100% sure no one else is around. Maybe it would be Mic. Maybe it would be Mepad. Even Balloon or Suitcase. It could be a combination of all of their respective efforts, that maybe things could turn out alright for Taco. Who knows. Not me because I have genuinely told you guys all I have for this concept at the moment. I’ll probably have more eventually but I would feel bad for making you all wait and also that eventually could be days or months so might as well put out what I have lol. 

Hope you all enjoyed!!! <3 sorry if this one sucked byeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

Kind of a vaguely tangential to Jedi meta comparison for you - I've been reading a lot of Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels recently. It's canon in Discworld that wizards don't have sex or marry. The sex thing is partly bc an active sex life makes it hard to care about and practice magic. It's also implied that performing magic can be as good as sex anyway. In The Light Fantastic, Rincewind performs magic successfully for the first time: "Magic! So that's what it felt like! No wonder wizards didn't have much truck with sex!" In Mort, Wizard Cutwell hooks up with Queen Keli and implicitly never really does magic again. The no marriage thing is bc magic can be hereditary, and if a wizard who is the youngest of eight sons then himself fathers eight sons, the eighth runs a risk of being a sourcerer, a being of godlike magical power (Sourcery)

I basically thought it was an interesting point of comparison to the Jedi bc it's kind of just a fact in Discworld canon that wizards are celibate by choice and live exclusively in single sex communities (though that gets challenged as early as the third book in the series, Equal Rites), and no fans really freak out over it, or talk about how the Unseen University was wrong for having such restrictions. It's not a 1:1 obv, bc Pratchett was writing comedy, but clearly some fandoms can handle the idea of people living monastically and asexually for supernatural power reasons. Maybe celibate academic spiritual communities are only good for making fun of. Idk.

I haven't read any of the Discworld novels, but there is something similar going on with the Avatar (the last airbender not the one with blue people) fandom.

Air Nomads are inspired by Buddhist monks just like the Jedi (although the Jedi have a heavier philosophical inspiration). Air Nomads give their children to the Temples, children are raised communally and they are given to a mentor when they reach a certain age so they can learn airbending. Likewise, the Air Nomads focus not on obtaining earthly pleasures but spiritual enlightenment. Their similarities with the Jedi are stunning, but the hypocresy that gets me is:

If I posted an anti-Jedi argument with the names swapped about the Air Nomads, I would be skinned alive.

And the Air Nomads have more "shady" things than the Jedi going on! We have seen in all three other nations that not everyone is a bender and meanwhile all Air Nomads are airbenders? How is that possible? Do they commit eugenics or something? This is probably poor worldbuilding on the creators part, but still, easier to have bad faith interpretations.

And yeah, if sex does impact your magic negatively, it makes perfect sense that you'd either have no magic or be celibate. And if magic is as good as sex? Count me in, goodbye sex you won't be missed.

[petrichal]

Role-reversal as a concept is really simple imo BUT things like change of environment and plot-related stuff personally makes this fic so fun for me to write :)

So I ended up writing a bunch for what was supposed to be a simple concept, wanted to compile my word vomit so far and, hey, maybe this might be enjoyable for people to read too, who knows (ᵕ,—ᴗ—,).

(⚠️ long post ahead!)

Timeline:

10 y.o - Ace swaps with Sabo before he sails off to sea, while Sabo goes back to Dadan's. The day after the explosion, Ace is found drifting on a piece of wood near Shimotsuki village by Marco who had been around the area with some members of the crew.

15 y.o - Ace eats his devil fruit on his "birthday" (the day the WB found him).

17 y.o - Sabo sets off to become a Revolutionary. 

18 y.o - [2 years before canon/Luffy sets out.] Ace gets his first bounty. It's been 1 year since Sabo entered the RA, and it's also when he finds out about Ace. (<- we are here) 

※ Some time when Sabo was 14-15 years old, he became aware of the Revolutionary Army when he first heard Garp mention his son in relation to it during one of his drinking sessions with Dadan. He went to a library in Goa's Town Center after the fact, saw some information and connected the dots, then confronted Garp about it when he visited next.

※ Garp doesn't know that Ace is alive prior to his wanted poster, but had heard a rumor of a kid on board Whitebeard's ship. The rumor came later than when he first heard of Ace's incident in Goa though (both did not seem connected), and it isn't rare for Whitebeard to pick up a stray, so he hadn't pressed on anything. He will later confront Whitebeard on Ace's whereabouts in the future.  

※ Ace isn't allowed to be off the ship when he was younger in case of any danger from enemy pirates but made a habit of sneaking off on his own without any of the crew knowing sometimes. He'd spend his time in the mountains or making friends with the forest animals (for reasons unknown to him) after getting bored of being in towns. The crew had been lax about the rule until an incident when he was fifteen, resulting in Marco forbidding him from getting in fights for a while. 

※ Sabo met the Revolutionary Army by tracking them down. Word of mouth by the marines made the job easier, and he found himself joining after getting involved in a coup of a kingdom in East Blue. 

※ Sabo is not the Chief of Staff, nor is he anywhere close to being one at this point in the story. He initially judged Dragon for not being present for Luffy but understands that the risk of being connected directly to the leader of the RA would be dangerous. He'd share letters and drawings from Luffy with him at times, where Dragon would keep them in a drawer despite Sabo's playful insistence that he should pin them to his board. 

** This is a personal headcanon but I believe that (in canon) Ace still felt some guilt for not taking Sabo with them instead of letting Outlook drag Sabo back to High Town resulting in Sabo running away and getting blown up by the Celestial Dragon, and that Ace would have resorted to unhealthy coping mechanisms because of it- except, Ace is a fire logia, and he can’t get drunk because he’d just burn all the alcohol away. 

In this fanfic I kinda took that headcanon for Sabo and because he’s not a fire logia, he has an easy time drowning himself in his own misery. This gets progressively worse especially after he sails off on his own, when Luffy's not there with him.

(Everything below this was made before I started chapter 2, and they’re all just how I put together my thoughts so I could write ch. 2 & 3)

The Plot (up to ch.3):

Summary; In which I provide you with sea routes?? because why not:

(Kind of a bastardized version of this from One Piece Novel A, where the boss of an island under WB’s territory gets outed for being involved in slave trades.)

** “Feltor” is an island I made up and carried over from the original version of the story, but the region I specified in chapter 2 “Las Camp” is canon and was said to be one of Whitebeards’ territories. “Port Marina” is also made up, except it’s kind of a nod to Port Chibaralta.

Rumour says Feltor has been used by slave traders as a rendezvous point between ships.

Logbook received by the RA from Sabaody confirms that a “merchant ship” from Feltor frequently docks in the shipyard before being sighted near Sabaody’s lawless zone (Human Shop location).

Sabo & Koala go to Feltor to steal their logbook. The logbook records should tell them about the location (slave trader's base / Port Marina) the first ship came from before they transport passengers over to the "merchant ship".

I actually didn’t realize how stupid the route was (like wouldn't it be easier for all of this to be in the Grand Line instead??? ugh) and was too stubborn to change anything, but I got rid of the discrepancies and end up a happy writer because of it yippee ;_;

Of course this isn't all there is to it. I haven't written up the rest so the notes for Port Marina stays in their notes.

(This part is genuinely super self-indulgent. I need to have it make sense in canon worldbuilding and that’s why I write at a snail’s pace orz Moving on - )

Emotional Process??:

Chapter 2 was hard for me to write because I couldn’t keep track of how Ace and Sabo feel towards certain things (their main conflicts, what they wanted to do, what they feared or hoped, etc.), so I made a mindmap of their thoughts about stuff like that:

I tried putting this into text but how I put it [above] was easier to understand 😵‍💫 There’s a bit of dialogue that’s for the next chapter but don’t worry about that lol. If you can read through my atrocious handwriting then all the power to you :’)

This is genuinely not supposed to be a long fic and was supposed to be 4 chapters long, but that didn't go as planned lmao ⚰️ My target for now is 6 chapters (2 chapters + an epilogue, hopefully).

(If you've reached this far, here's an experimental draft of Chapter 1 that didn’t go anywhere, but I still consider it part of the story): 

Eight years have passed since Ace was shot at the age of ten, when he gripped Sabo by his shoulders and told him to be free.  It’s been eight years since he had worn Sabo’s clothes to act as a lousy decoy and sailed under his pirate flag - “Just the letter S on some crossbones? Come on, Sabo,” - and it’s been eight years since Sabo’s brother died because of it. Growing up without Ace had been a challenge he didn’t think he’d face. They saw his ghost sometimes, young minds longing for a voice gone too early, and it existed in the forest they used to hunt in and the room Dadan had for the three of them, now two. They seldom stayed in the treehouse anymore- too many precious memories they didn’t dare disturb- but Sabo’s heart was stronger because of it.  Colder, sure, but there was something about seeing bent nails hammered clumsily into the treehouse’s flooring and childish drawings on the battered wall that served as a reminder for what Ace had left, and before long, it hurt too much to bear. So Sabo stayed at Dadan’s, and after a while, Luffy followed him too.  It got easier to breathe as Sabo got older. Holding on to Ace’s memories and Luffy’s permanence by his side gave him some sliver of strength to continue, and if it wasn’t for them then it was his rage for the world above all else.  So he joined the Revolutionary Army at seventeen, and it’s been one year since then and eight years since he’s known hate like he was born out of it. 

.

The second truth came close to the first; That the world was rotten to its core, and it was why his brother was dead in the first place.  Because Ace's death made no sense. He was someone whose dreams were greater than anyone Sabo's ever met, someone who would stand tall and grin in the face of danger, someone who was destined for the world beyond Goa and the East Blue.  Ace whispered wishes in his ears, Sabo remembers, to be someone greater than his father. Maybe he can be his mother's pride, too, someone she won't regret giving up her life for.  Ten years of living, five years of wishing. A life cut too short.  (From Ace’s demise stands Sabo, this turncoat noble, the boy who was handed everything on a silver platter from a young age just so he could shove it all away, and, what, his dream is to write a book? That's all?) Luffy was the one to bring what was left of him back around, in the end.  It had been a week since they'd heard the news about Ace, and Sabo had spent most of his time in the forest to think, as he called it.  Sunlight pierced through the canopy of leaves above him where he swung his pipe against Luffy's outstretched punch. It made the boy stumble, and soon enough, his arm snapped back and made him fall to the ground.  “14 - 0,” Sabo exhaled. The metal pipe felt rough underneath his grip. He was distracted; His mind was elsewhere. “Luffy, this isn't really-” “No!” Came the petulant reply. Luffy got back up as fast as he went down and resumed his stance. “Next round!”  And maybe it was frustration, or maybe it was something more harsh, because Sabo could remember throwing his pipe down and sitting cross on the ground instead of parrying Luffy's attack. Sabo ignored how the punch missed him by a whole two inches and how Luffy tumbled forward in surprise because of it. He mussed up his curls instead, and he didn't really get what was making him feel this trapped, this suffocated, but all he knew was that he just wanted everything to stop so he could think.  “Sabo?”  But he couldn't really ignore Luffy completely, could he? Slowly, the blonde lifted his head up, and through the beaming sun rays piercing through the canopy, Luffy's frown fixed itself like a picture on his face.  “What's wrong?” Everything, Sabo wanted to say, but Luffy knew that already.  “Just tired,” he said instead before burying his head between his knees. “Oh.” He could feel Luffy settling down on the grass next to him and the boy leaned on Sabo's shoulder like he was worth relying on.  “I'm sad about Ace, too,” Luffy said after a beat. The mere mention of their other brother felt like ice nowadays. It froze Sabo, and maybe this was what he feared, this talk with Luffy.  “.... I don't think we'll ever stop feeling sad about Ace.” His little brother had nothing to say to that. He only pushed himself more on Sabo’s side. The morning was still young with birds chirping in their homes, and it filled the silence that lapsed in between them like some kind of healing balm. But that wasn’t enough. Sabo knew his wounds, and this one in particular was heavy and deep, something that couldn’t possibly be reconciled in just a week after losing Ace. (And the second truth, really, was that it was unfair of him to blame the world for Ace’s death, when he was the one who led Ace down that path to begin with.)  “Don’t you blame me at all?” Sabo found himself asking after the quiet started to feel unbearable. “If I hadn’t tried to leave, he would still….” “Sabo’s stupid,” Luffy said instead, and before Sabo could react in any way to that, “Ace saved you so you can be happy. Why would I get angry about that?”

Aaaand that's it! I really like thinking about this fic! Sorry it's a bit much but thank you for reading until the end!

[life-series-playlist-submissions]

see i have a whole list of songs that i can associate w/ characters but unfortunately most of them are either for aus, or not for the life series at all (though still for lifers)

anyways here are a few others i have for life series, besides the ones i already have suggested- there is a very obvious bias here lol

there's actually quite a lot but i promise they all fit very well trust me

these are all tcw songs

"easier" w/ clockduo

"strangler fig" w/ ll!skizz (crane lives dtiys im looking at u)

"shallow river" w/ clockduo

"once and for all" with impulse and other crastle people :)

"queen of nothing" with life series winners, OR limited life

"how to rest" w/ skizz and the LiL affirmations

"icarus" w/ 3l imp n skizz

"i talk in my sleep" w/ clockduo AND imp n skizz..... post-life series. dont put it in the skizz playlist tho this aint about him /aff

"down the river" for SL!villain scar. specifically villain scar. also clockduo bc everything is about clockduo forever

"ribs" w/ dl!pearl

"pretty little things" w/ clockduo

"know how" w/ clockduo

oh wait one fish in a birdcage song- "rule #5: james picard" for last life

AND NOW. songs that are for specific aus (or are not for the life series) so you shouldn't add them to the playlists, but i thought they would be fun to talk abt anyways

"the bidding" by tally hall for a team BEST drag au me and my friend are making... very.... slowly....... i am always rotating it in my mind and exploding this au's skizzleman but i cant write for shit............ yes girl go discover a whole new thing that it turns out u love and then have ur aroace awakening................. and then get traumatized..............................................

"infinitesimal" by mother mother for the same au mentioned above

"rule #7: angel tango" by fish in a birdcage for... you guessed it... team best drag au................ (i have a whole playlist made. it was the first themed playlist i ever made. and i did it before we changed a whole important plot point so now i need to make another one. regardless here is the link i need to talk abt this silly au)

"sick of the silence" by mother mother for 3L!skizz in a very specific au i have where he's a shapeshifter and, during 3L, got stuck in one form (enderskizz)

"neverending hum" by lemon demon for skizz in general. impulse is the armadillo named corey /silly

"space oddity" by david bowie for hcs8!tango. i love david bowie guys

"my wife and my dead wife" (specifically the live version from "gotta let this hen out!") by robyn hitchcock for an ethimpdubs au i have where etho is bdubs' dead husband and impulse is bdubs' newer, alive husband, and then etho comes back as a ghost like ten years after his death

You can totally add songs that fit the personalities of the lifers in general! Also Space Oddity is 1000% HC8 Tango, big agree.

Added songs to the playlists Bdubs, Impulse, Skizz, Cleo, Tango, Grian, Scott, Pearl, Martyn, Scar, Joel, Last life and Limited life. (I added the Queen of Nothing song to all you suggested because I couldn’t make any decision).

[calebsmoocher]

After an argument, MC begins to navigate Caleb's 'lockdown' regime. When she thinks the coast is clear, she finds him half dressed. Should fit into the main story. Angst after a shaky reunion.

Word count: 1.5K

A/N: Yipee my first real tumblr post. My mind has been consumed by Caleb. Anyway, just a short bit of angst while i figure out how to use tumblr and get used to posting. woohoo

-

The glare of sunlight roused her from a night of intermittent sleep. She sat up with a wince, clutching her head as the sun’s harsh rays felt like a panging taunt. She fiddled with the curtains in between her fingers. They were wide open, a rare occurrence as Caleb was always the one to draw her curtains each night. But last night he didn’t, or rather he couldn’t, as she had shut him out before dinner. Slamming and locking the door. She rubbed her temple. She had lashed out at him for insisting he accompany her everywhere while she was in Skyhaven. 

“I don’t need your constant surveillance-”

“Surveillance!? You’ve been in Skyhaven for all but two days. And you think you know everything that’s out there. This isn’t the DAA; you’re not staying on a campus for God’s sake.” 

“So what?” She cried. “I’m a competent Hunter. I can hold my own ground. Why do you always diminish that?”

He scoffed, rubbing his jaw. “I never said you weren’t a good Hunter-”

“You implied it.”

“Let me finish.” His gaze hardened and she knitted her brows together in frustration. “There are things here unlike Linkon. Unlike anything you’ve probably encountered at the association. Fleet guards can barely hold their own as is.”

She shook her head. “Like what? What’s out there that’s so dangerous?” He looked past her into the kitchen, then checked his watch.

“Come on, dinner’s ready. You can help me set the table.”

She scoffed as he walked past her, throwing her hands up. “You won’t even answer me,” she yelled.

She hadn’t managed to get him to break at all. He would just ignore her or change the topic. Treating her like she was the same dumb kid from their childhood.

Her stomach growled. That’s what she got for having the argument right before dinner. The devastating weight of shame dwelled in her stomach, overpowering her hunger. She felt like a brat. Like the dumb kid she was so adamant she wasn’t anymore. Even if he was being considerably overbearing, she knew he was trying to protect her. The familiarity just let her lash out at him easier. Show him all the ugly sides to her that she hated so much.

She checked her phone. 7:40 AM. Surely he had left by now. She’d rather starve than have to face him at this moment. She’d apologise tonight, after she’d had time to reflect and cry about it. Rehearse something to get back into his good graces. 

She opened the door slowly and its hinges whined out. The house was eerily silent. So far so good. Stepping out onto the cold tiles, she peered around every corner till she made it to the kitchen. He really had left. She felt an inexplicable pang in her chest, but she brushed it off as her being on the brink of starvation. Pacing around the kitchen, she began opening each cabinet. Where did he store the bowls again? Much to her surprise, each cabinet was full. He had enough crockery, containers, and cutlery for a family of six. Did he regularly have guests over? Someone special maybe that stayed here for long durations of time? That same pang ached in her chest again. She really needed to find a bowl soon!

“Ahem…” 

She jumped, turning around at the sound. Caleb stood in the doorway, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. He was wearing the grey button-up shirt of his uniform and his white pants. 

“...” She couldn’t speak. She felt like she had been caught red-handed. A silence enveloped him, both of them admiring the interior until their eyes caught onto each other. Now, neither could look away.

“Good morning,” he offered. 

“...Morning,” she replied. She rubbed her arms. “I thought you had left already.”

“Is that why you-” he bit back his words, sucking in a breath. “Are you hungry? You didn’t have dinner last night. Let me make you breakfast.”

She gave him a small smile. “You don’t have to do that. You’re going to be late.”

“I’ll call in. Please, let me make you breakfast.” 

Another pause.

“I’m…sorry for last night. I was…I was being irrational. And I lashed out at you.” She dug up the courage to look at him, but he looked equally apologetic.

“I’m sorry as well. You’re a brilliant Hunter. I didn’t mean to undermine you.” She smiled at his words, shaking her head. An awkward fog of tension still surrounded them. 

She tiptoed towards him, closing the distance. He gave her a once over. She was wearing a thin shirt and a skirt. He took her wrist into his clasp, rubbing over the goosebumps on her flesh.

“Your feet are cold. Let me…” He turned, exiting the room quickly. When he came back, he was holding a pair of slippers. He kneeled down, guiding her feet into them. That was strange. They were pink. And they fit her perfectly. Was the person who he was having over a girl?

He had always made her play the role of his pretend girlfriend when they were younger. Was it now that her role was no longer needed?

“So…Porridge? Or how about pancakes?” He gave her a warm smile, fighting to fill the silence.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go get breakfast with a friend. I don’t want to make you any more late.” She returned his smile, gesturing for him to finish getting dressed. She had a few friends from school who had moved to Skyhaven. Surely one of them would be up for a last minute breakfast. 

But Caleb remained still, his smile faltering. “You’re going out?”

She furrowed her brows, trying to gauge his reaction. She sighed. “Are you serious?”

He let out a strained exhale. “Come on, I’m just looking out for you.” He was still on about this. Now that she thought back to his apology--and hers as well--neither of them had claimed to be wrong. 

She closed her eyes, turning to walk back to her room to get dressed. 

“Hey, wait. Wait.” He gripped her arm, moving in front of her. He gaped desperately at her, struggling to find words that wouldn’t push her over the edge.

“Are you really going to keep me in here?”

“No, I…” She searched his eyes. And in turn, he searched hers. She was unwavering in her resolve. He could see that. Would they really fight again? After they had just supposedly made up? He sucked in a breath before slumping his shoulders. “...Help me with my tie, won’t you?”

She blinked.

He picked up his tie from where he had laid it on the table. It was black and silky, and cool to the touch. He offered it to her, eyes pleading. After a moment's silence, she took it, their fingers brushing against each other.

“You expect me to believe you don’t know how to tie a tie?”

He shook his head pathetically. She smoothed out the fabric, hooking it over his neck.

“I wonder how you managed to get by without me,” she murmured under her breath, playing into his trick. As she tucked the fabric under his collar he lifted his hands to hold her arms, thumbs rubbing over her elbows. She was careful not to let her cold fingertips graze his neck. Every swallow, sharp breath, and rustle of fabric was amplified. It made her ears prickle. It made conscious of her every breath being so close to him.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised again. “I keep…messing up with you. It’s like everything I say and do is wrong.”

She sighed, looping the tie around itself. “No, Caleb. I know you mean well. It’s just- well I need to be my own person.” He nodded, hands shifting to smooth over her upper arm. 

“I’m not trying to control you. I just can’t trust anyone but myself to keep you safe.” She finished looping the fabric, pulling the tie tightly into position.

“Not even me?”

He didn’t reply immediately. And she sighed before bringing her hand up again to loosen the tie slightly. She smoothed out his collar. Then brushed down the fabric of his shirt.

“All done.”

Before she could leave he held her back again. He was always at a loss for words with her.

“...Thank you.”

She shrugged in his hold. “Have a good day at work.” But her words were bitter. And she sunk out of his grasp as soon as his grip loosened. He gave her cheek a parting pinch, offering an unrequited smile. Just like that he was back to his cheerful self. The walls around him hardening like steel. Impenetrable and unyielding.

“Okay, pancakes it is.” 

[bradchenford]

Jealousy, Jealousy

“Tim’s jealous side shows when Lucy gets asked on a date by another officer”

Post Season 6 / Pre season 7

Mid-Wilshire police station had seen a reduction in staff for the past few months. Sickness, injury, stress. All the usual denominators that affect an already overworked division. It was exhausting for the remainder of the staff, but their usual determination had prevailed so far. After all, Smitty was still at his desk, and that tugged at Lucy’s competitive side. No matter how exhausted she was.

However, during roll call there were some faces that Lucy didn’t recognise. She felt as though it was odd, as if her usual comfortable space had been invaded by trespassers, but that feeling was pushed to one side as soon as Grey walked in the room for his usual morning speech.

“All right, settle down” the chattering subsided as Grey’s authority hushed the room. “I hope you’ve all noticed that there are some new faces in the room today. If you haven’t, then you should consider a carer change” A couple of chuckles escaped the mouths of the seated officers, but not enough to interrupt him.

Lucy plucked up the courage to take another look around the room. To her surprise, she was met with a pair of eyes staring right back at her. They were a light green on the outside, but they had a dark centre. She gave a quick and awkward smile, before focusing back on Grey. She knew if she was caught not paying attention, he would make it known to the entire room.

The occupant of the eyes continued to stare with Lucy being none the wiser, but Tim was watching the exchange from the front of the room. He knew what type of man officer Booth was, and it was not the type that he wanted near Lucy. In fact it was not the type of man he wanted on the force, but that was not his decision. Especially since Booth was technically under the Hollywood devision.

Grey had finished roll call and just like Tim suspected Booth made a couple of strides towards Lucy, who was speaking to Lopez about her next under cover task. It was linked to one of Lopez’s ongoing cases, and Harper had taken a rare day off to spend with Leah. Tim felt his fists clench and Booth presented a smile that looked foreign on his face.

“Chen right? Next in line to be the top UC?” Booth placed himself between Angela and Lucy. Tim had envisioned a million different scenarios in which Booth failed miserably. A sudden Bee sting in which his face swelled up and he passed out. Or maybe Lucy would punch him in the face, but Tim knew that she was too nice for that.

By the time Tim’s thoughts got round to possible attempted murder, Lopez was stood in front of him with an all too familiar face. The face of ‘I know what you’re thinking, and I am about to tell you that.’

“My Abuela might have a curse we could use, certain things may fall off” Angela was also aware of officer Booths discretions, but despite this Tim new she would have his back even if Booth was the re-incarnation of Jesus. “I was thinking of something more practical… or physical” Tim grunted in dismay as Booth’s hand found its way to Chen’s shoulder.

“Unfortunately you lost that privilege when you were feeling sad for yourself and broke up with her” Tim was starting to regret this conversation, and it was not helping the anger that was bubbling up inside of him. Angela tugged him out of the room. “We’re riding together today- but- don’t argue with me Bradford”.

Tim didn’t argue

…

Lucy felt on edge after her conversation with officer Booth. She couldn’t figure out if it was because the words coming out of his mouth felt rehearsed and repeated like re-runs of a cringy TV show. Or if it was because of the light touches on her shoulder and her lower back which felt too personal for a first conversation.

Lucy was in the shop getting ready for the day. There was hope in her heart that the shift would be easier with the extra staffing, but she knew better than to get comfortable. As she was about to set off she watched Lopez and Tim walk towards the shop, Tim having the war bags in hand. There was no one else other than Angela that he would carry them for. Chen chuckled to herself, but was hit with a wave of sadness.

Her foot lifted gently of the clutch of the vehicle and she had left the lot before Tim could catch her staring. Lucy wished that she could look at Bradford without emotions clawing at her insides, but even though she has meditated and worked through her feelings over and over again. She still felt that emotional pull towards him that was undeniable.

She also couldn’t deny that she missed his touch, and his warmth beside her.

“Control to 7-Adam-15, 7-Adam-19 and 7-Adam-16 there are reports of multiple person fight at a property on 2210 Rosemont”

“7-Adam-15 to control, show me responding”

…

The scene was loud as Tim and Angela pulled up. Two patrol cars were already present, but the occupants were no longer inside. They both rushed in to the room which had about 10 people not including Lucy and Booth. The room was split into two sides and minor first aid was being administered. The tension in the room was thick, but not just between the opposing family members.

“Chen, you okay?” Lucy nodded towards Tim signalling that she wasn’t hurt. Although they were not on speaking terms, Tim still felt responsible for Lucy, especially since he was previously her TO. Or that was what he told himself to keep his head straight.

“You not going to ask me Bradford? Or do you just check on the cute female officers” The room fell silent. Or at least it did for Tim. The rage he felt earlier rose and burned behind his ears, and he couldn’t stop himself from swirling on his feet and pacing towards Booth.

Before Tim could cause any physical injury Lopez was in his Path. “You, outside and cool off” Tim felt his anger subside enough for him to take a look around the room. All eyes were on him, but the only ones he focused on were Lucy’s. Her eyes portrayed a look of shock that Tim hadn’t seen in a while. There wasn’t a lot that took Lucy by surprise, but Tim understood that his lack of control over his emotions wasn’t a part of his usual stoical character.

Tim was waiting outside of the property when Lopez, Chen and Booth left. “No one is wanting to press charges, no one is telling us who threw punches” Time to go. Lopez grabbed Tim by the shoulder and tried to move him a long.

“Do we have an issue Bradford” Tim heard Lopez groan from beside him, but he had already heard enough from officer Booth today. “We will have a problem Booth, if you keep up the inappropriate conduct at work. I will put a complaint into your watch commander” Booth laughed, but it was a laugh out of anger. Tim had already looked him up on the system, and the complaints from female officers were already pileing up. It would definitely have an impact on his career, especially since he was already under the big eye.

“Cut the high and mighty sergeant crap Bradford, tell me what you really want to say” Booth was now practically face to face with Tim, despite his stature being significantly smaller. Tim looked down at him with a look of pure disgust on his face. “You’re sleazy Booth, you treat women like shit. Chen is here to do a job, and a job that she is good at. She doesn’t need your gross comments”

“You sure it’s not just because you want a piece of that fine ass…” Tim’s hands were on Booth’s shirt before he even knew it. Booth tried to punch Tim in retaliation but wasn’t able to build up a good enough swing with Tim’s arms in the way.

“Tim stop!” Lucy’s voice broke Tim out of his trance which gave Booth a chance to push him off. Booth stormed off mumbling some insults to Bradford. “What is wrong with you” Lucy hit Tim in the chest, but not hard enough to cause pain. His mouth moved to say something but the words didn’t come out. “You just had so much to say to him, and nothing to me?”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me” Lucy saw that people were coming to their windows to watch the argument and she walked away as she felt the tears prick at her eyes. She was frustrated by the mix of hurt and confusion. Tim had said all those things about her being great at the job, but yet didn’t feel confident that she could deal with some creep.

Lucy didn’t spend time sat in the shop, she buckled up and drove away so she could process this far away from Tim’s watching eye. She didn’t understand him, why he broke up with her or why he was acting like he was. She also knew she was unlikely to get an answer from him.

….

It was the end of shift and it was a miracle for Tim that Booth didn’t put in a complaint. Angela had given him an earful in the shop as well as a look of sympathy that he didn’t want. He didn’t deserve sympathy, not when he had ignored Lucy’s feeling all day because of his own anger…or as Angela had put it ‘jealousy’.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion Tim felt, or he didn’t think he did. It was not an experience he had been through before. Or so he told himself. He had at least not felt it so deeply. He was arguing with himself in his head about if he felt jealous of Booth, and his actions towards Lucy. It just felt impossible to him that he could feel like jealous of some sleezeball, or that he thought Lucy would even entertain it. Before he even realised the answer he was in his truck heading towards her flat, and then at her door.

Tim had paused at Lucy’s door. He had been here a million times before, but he was hesitating this time. Before Tim could even knock the door swung open and Lucy stood before him. Her green dress caressed her body elegantly, and her her was pinned behind her ear.

“Tim?” Again, Tim found himself lost for words. He was at her apartment but he didn’t quite know why. “Where are you going?” He instantly knew that it was the wrong thing to say, even before Lucy’s face showed evidence of dismay. “Not that it is any of your business but I am going out to meet Tamara”. Tim held his head in shame and chose his next words more carefully.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to quiz you that’s not why I am here. I also know it’s not my place.” Tim waited to see if there was a reaction from Lucy but her facial expression and her body language remained unchanged.

“I’m also sorry for my actions earlier today. I don’t know what was going through my head, I just knew what kind of guy Booth was and I hated that he was speaking to you. Especially in the manner he was” Tim struggled to to get the words out in the correct order with Lucy’s hard stare.

“So you were jealous?”

“Why do people keep saying that? I was not… it sounds like you were” Tim sighed. He didn’t want to admit to Lucy that he had been taken over by something as petty as jealousy. “Okay maybe I was a little jealous, and I know again that it isn’t my place to be”

“You’re right it’s not” Lucy seemed less tense with Tim, even offering a small smile. She moved forward so she was able to turn and lock her door. When she turned back around Tim was much closer. They both leaned in slowly until their lips met, and Tim’s hand went to her cheek.

It was a short lived, but sweet kiss between the two before Lucy pulled away. “Tim, this is not the right time, especially if it was born out of jealousy. You still have a lot to work through”

Tim didn’t say anything in response but nodded. He hadn’t intended for the kiss to happen, but it was difficult not to when it was all he wanted to do. Lucy said a polite goodbye before leaving Tim in the hall on his own, and for some reason he knew that it was going to be okay between them eventually.

[skydigiblogs]

Digimon and Nostalgia

i have a habit of just kind of passing by in the tags sometimes even when i'm quiet, and i'm realizing i don't know how much i've talked about the thought behind why we decided to revisit digimon last february from start to finish.

okay so fair warning, this is gonna be rambly and a little bit semi-incoherent because i feel like absolute dogshit today but the brain worms on the subject aren't leaving me alone to rest.

i am putting it under a read more for all our sanity

so there's this category of post i always see in the tags that seems to come from a place of either not engaging with enough digimon media or not engaging with the media.

that first one is a bit easier to explain. sometimes people will talk about things they want to see in the digimon franchise, and it's kind of clear that they have a very narrow scope of what they've actually seen from it.

i'm trying to think of an example that doesn't put recent posts i've seen on blast lmao (because that's not the point of this post), but also i think some of the points brought up by this post by @starwardking (pardon the tag) highlight the complexity of the first kind of issue, because it both is and isn't the kind of problem that can be fixed by just finding the right digimon media.

when i saw this post, my first instinct was to point to series like savers and appmon, where a majority of the plot takes place in the human world and allows for a lot of mundane shenanigans. i also think a bit about the earlier episodes of tamers.

(i think to some extent ghost game has a bit of domestic life shit going on, but seeing as it is also a horror anime, part of it is about the dissonance between "Normal for Digimon" and "Normal for Humans." but you also get episodes about little hideaways digimon live in in the human world so they can drink tea and share snacks. you also have digimon that just hang out in libraries and shit like that.)

at the same time, this is also an issue i think that isn't fixed by finding the right digimon media. the comparison to pokemon is what makes me consider this, specifically because of something like pokemon amie. it may have just been a minigame, but it's also something that, especially in the video games, i don't think we have a clear parallel to. i do agree that it would be nice to enjoy a bit of domestic fluff with your digimon!

but then i also recognize that i myself have also skipped over games where i could tell there would be some of that. i couldn't finish survive because it has elements i just can't handle either playing or watching. what i do remember in survive is that you have quite a few scenes early on in the school that are about resource management (figuring out how to digimon survive, as it were). this is done while you're also chatting with your human and digimon friends.

which i think segues better into the second kind of issue, being that sometimes i see these posts and they come from an angle where it seems someone hasn't exactly made an effort to engage with digimon as it is. there's a phenomenal video essay by deep dive on youtube, actually, that talks about this with regards to ghost game.

on the most abstract level, are you trying to be cognizant of your biases going into a piece of art when you take it in? what experiences make it difficult to engage with the text in a way that it wants you to engage? can you even see what the text is trying to say, even if it's ineffectual?

this is also why i wanted to tie this in with the reason i decided to make a blog to track my revisiting of all the different series.

nostalgia is killer, and not in a good way.

one of the things we regularly do with media we enjoy enough to praise is revisit it. if it's been over a year since i've watched something and i am trying to hype it up to someone, i want to not rely on my own memory, but also the text of that individual piece of art.

the second form of this issue comes about when an individual has an Idea about digimon, and they post with a very firm stance on what digimon is or is not. it's a retreading i think of the same reason anyone is willing to not consider appmon part of the digimon franchise (despite the "digimon universe" title).

again: what are your biases coming into a piece of art? do you have certain ideas about what digimon is supposed to look like? do you refuse to give other digimon media a fair chance because of it?

this form is more likely to get me to just block someone so i don't have to keep scrolling past them in the tags tbh. there's a mixture of "it was better in the old days" combined with a blatant lack of media literacy when "attempting" to engage with newer digimon media. you see this in a lot of franchises, to be fair, but it is always frustrating.

like i could also be biased because of my own background, being that i have an english degree, but there's something so... disappointing, i suppose, to the latter form of this criticism. if you're going to have a take, i want to see you articulate it. it's not a school assignment, sure, but what in god's name is making you come to that take?

i think the most painful series to see this with for me are savers and appmon, if only because i did rewatch them to better understand why i love them (and also what i really hate about them!).

savers especially is a show i watched because i was interested in seeing if the "MIB but if the aliens were Digimon" series could handle making any statement about the nature of law enforcement! and surprise surprise, it fucking did!

people probably feel the same way any time i post about frontier, which is a series i've been vocal about my dislike about (though i respect anyone willing to try to make frontiers better through their own art and writing). it's been a struggle to rewatch that series, but i also don't want to make strong judgments with firm backing because i know i have not seen it in years, nor have i seen the original sub.

i don't think i have a nice clean conclusion for this. it's an observation i keep having, and i don't think there's any particular solution for someone like me who just wants people to try a little harder to pick apart the things they like. i want people to understand how stories tick, and the things they both explicitly and implicitly say. it's the english teacher in me, i guess.

[stoicheincat]

PART 1

Not gonna go over everything discussed in the original post but I want to go over some of it. Also nothing said here is meant to be a attack against any specific creator and is only my experience in the spaces. Want to make sure I specify cuz I'm want to be frank.

On the Normie divide

There isn't more of a marketing issue. Indies don't do a great job of using simple language and pitches to get people interested in games. A consistent issue I see is the use of ttrpg specific acronyms that are hard for those outside the space to understand. Then throw in the algorithms that section people off and new players are mostly pushed away. I think this can be somewhat eased by better marketing with clearer pitches with more visual elements. Tom Bloom's lancer is a good example. It's cool mechs and the art shows it. [Tho the gameplay is less streamlined then a new player would prefer cool art can push people through the bullshit. It get's people excited to play and GMs hyped to run it.] This leads to some common shit that fucks interest from a casual player.

WALLS OF TEXT:

This one is gonna sound hurtful but writers, the novel is not poppin'. This issue can be somewhat smoothish with art but is expensive. When I as a casual player see you bragging about your 200 pg+ Magazine sized book with minimum art it doesn't make me want to read it. Not saying there aren't those who would but if we're going for a general audience then let's make onboarding easier. This can be somewhat eased with a good layout but no guaranteed. We need to think of shorter books with better macro world-building. [Save the micro for extra books focused on it.] Assume that your world's concepts should be the only thing being kept by the GM.

Basically walls of text are a scare for new people. Players latch on to the broad strokes of your world not the specific. [Tho there is a type and it generally becomes the GM. Different books for different players are helpful because it separates info based on need to know.

MECHANICS AS A SELLING POINT

Again targeted more at the writing. Sorry guys. If a more normie audience is the goal. Mechanics probally aren't gonna sell your game and might even harm them. I haven't heard of people that aren't playing ttrpgs ever say how the mechanics was why they wanted to play DND or any other ttrpg. It's usually focused on the setting and then the stories they want to play out. You can do mechanics as a selling point but understand at that point you are going for existing players that have games they like.

LACK OF SETTING VIBE AND OR NOVEL WANNABE

I see this more with artists. The world build is all over the place or incoheret. Basically cool drawings over anything put together. Artist tend to focus on art and often leave out info to make things make sense and even skip writing stuff. I don't know how to express my thoughts on the issue I'm trying to point out but I'll finish it another time if that's all right. Basically artist make unfun mechanics or worlds because they skip writing mechanics. I don't know I need to think this over more when it's not late.

ON INTERNAL CREATOR DIVIDE

Basically people tend to stay away from pushing each others or collabing due mostlish to the reasons bellow.

EGO: Common and we all have atleast a little bit of it.

LACK OF COLLAB EXPERIENCE: Or how it'd work aka contracts, work division, trusted fellow creators, or pay division.

ANTISOCIAL ARTISTIC TENDICIES: I have this one. Basically for some of us most of our creative life has been alone and it's generally just easier.

COMMUNITY VIBES: Basically some spaces can be either to corporate or bad vibes. [Bluesky indie TTRPG creator space gives off corpo networking vibes. I do enjoy people there but it is defo more corpo.]

LIFE RESPONSIBILITIES: Some of us can't really go out of our way to focus on networking due to this being a side thing. [I would like it to be more tho but I'm married with a kid so I got to be smart about how I make that happen.]

Welp I'll make a part 2 when I can but I got shit to do and it's late. Also thanks for tagging me mate.

Let’s Grow the RPG Hobby

Inspired by this post and the conversation surrounding it.

So the RPG world is facing a multitude of interconnected problems. Let’s talk about them, shall we?

---

1: The Problem(s)

Writing this, I find it hard to pinpoint a way to frame the subject of this post as a single thing. But it’s also impossible to treat it as it it’s a collection of separate problems. In reality, the issues facing the indie RPG world are A Hydra; a many-headed conglomeration of related issues, which each require organized, dedicated work to solve. A few examples:

The Normie-Indie Divide

A problem close to my heart, The Normie-Indie Divide describes the gradient between the mainstream of an artistic hobby and the really independent stuff. I compare this to movies a lot, but the more apt analogy is video games. The N-I-D in the videogame industry is so small as to be virtually nonexistent.

We can see this via a number of factors – one example being that the same outlets which cover massive blockbusters & sequels like Assassin’s Creed and God of War, also cover popular indie titles like Celeste and Hollow Knight. Then, freelance journalists who write for those publications (Jacob Geller is an example) go on to cover much smaller games on their own time, and so on. There’s a smooth gradient between the media coverage of the huge stuff, all the way down to a thriving (if still underserved) super-independant industry.

The N-I-D in RPGs feels uncrossable. The most well known RPG is so big it’s currenly riding the high of its second major hollywood adaptation in 20 years, and the second most popular – Vampire the Masquerade – is an unknown even to some indie RPG fans.* This hobby is shockingly impenetrable, even to those of us who spend our days swimming in the deepest end of the pool.

The Supply & Demand Problem

This one’s simple: People are pumping out RPGs by the truckload, and there are just too many! Not only does this make it hard to sift through everything to find the thing you want to read, play, or review, it also makes it nearly impossible to get anyone’s eyeballs on the cool thing you just released!

As others have pointed out, this problem is exacerbated by the fact that relative to some other art media, it’s pretty quick and painless to whip up your own zine or one-pager and publish it on itch. This disincentivises even the most invested of us from looking at a ton of new games, and means that sharing your work can feel like you’re being ignored by a huge crowd.

A Road To Solutions

If all of that is making you feel pretty bad for the future of this medium, you’re not alone. It can feel pretty hopeless facing all of these problems as an indie designer when all the tools you have at your disposal are a tumblr account and a few indie friends to complain to.

But the truth is, I think that this Hydra is eminently slayable. I just don’t think we can do it alone. That in mind, I’ve spent a large portion of my day putting together…

The Call to Action

I think there needs to be organized, persistent effort put into the future of this hobby and this industry, and I think it needs to start the way all good movements do: with a lot of petty, semantic argumentation over definitions and implementation. And to kick things off, here’s my step zero: If you’re reading this post because I’ve tagged you in it (or because I’ve sent you a link to it), my Dms are open. I want to put together a discord group chat† of my peers within RPG tumblr who are invested in tackling The Hydra, such that we can start brainstorming plans of attack to disseminate into the wider community.

The issues I wish to address are these:

The Normie-Indie Divide: How do we go about cultivating a casual audience of indie RPG fans who can bring sustainability and longevity to the industry?

The Supply & Demand Problem: How do we minimize the cognitive load of sorting through the huge volume of work extant in this medium, and more generally encourage peer-to-peer interaction within the community, like news coverage, reviews, and marketing?

The Cognitive Frontload Problem: How do we make it easier to actually engage with a given RPG, considering the amount of cognitive & temporal investment needed? Further, how do we make RPGs, both general and specific, more accessible to readers with a wide variety of abilities, preferences, and available time?

The Insular Community Problem: How do we better connect this hobby with itself, such that it feels a little less like several dozen cliques across 4-6 platforms, and more like the growing, evolving single hobbyist community that it is? Further, how do we make this hobby more accessible to newbies outside the influence of The Hegemons of the Coast?

And more. I’m positive I haven’t thought of everything, and that’s exactly why this needs to be a group effort.

As a last note: Please tag other people! The folks I’ve mentioned here are just those who I personally feel I know well enough to tag; let’s get the rest of the community involved! If you know someone who would be interested who isn’t on tumblr, they can email me: sabrinahawthornegames@proton.me.

*I’m not kidding. Multiple times within the last four months, I’ve introduced VtM to people who I would consider pretty in the sauce of RPGs. I’m talking folks who’ve played Heart: The City Beneath or Wanderhome. It’s bizarre.

†I need to stress that this is only a start. I’m not looking to start a big public discord unless that’s what a group of folks decide is the right call. By “group chat,” I mean “a chat which exists for long enough to hold 1-3 group voice calls to discuss and hash things out, before it’s dissolved in favor of the execution of whatever plans we devise.”

@theresattrpgforthat; @omophagic-beast; @ladytabletop; @rowansender; @monsterfactoryfanfic; @arsene-inc; @toyourstations

[ria-starstruck]

and also "putting everyone in a simulation will make it all ok 👍" and also "let's park next to this random system's sun" and also "we can't live on our own planet because of our own folly" and so on

[daughteroftheteleri]

I saw someone describe The War of the Rohirrim as a horsegirl vs a reddit incel, and I didn't realise how accurate that was until I watched the film for myself

[magician-under-the-m00nlight]

aptx!kaito au in which Shinichi doesn't know aptx exists and feels insane that his leading theory is "a six year old is the mastermind behind Kaitou Kid"