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willowsnook · 6 hours ago

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back to each other

request from @heavierthnheavenly

lewis hamilton x rosberg reader

please don’t leave

——————————————-

“Happy 30th my sweet sister,” Nico yelled at you as everyone cheered while you blew out the candles.

“Thanks, Nico,” you replied, catching your breath. 30 was here, and honestly, you felt like this was the beginning of the rest of your life. You remember thinking back when you were 23 that life was going by so fast and that you needed to accomplish x y, and z, but now that you hit this new milestone, you realized how young you really were.

“What’d you wish for?” Your best friend asked from next to you. Before you could answer, Nico jumped in.

“Hopefully a husband so she can stop mooching off of me.”

“Hey,” you said pouting. “I gave you back your credit card last year.”

Nico and your friends laughed and you felt filled with love from the people surrounding you. You posted a cute picture of the cake to your Insta story and grabbed a glass of wine to drink with your friends. They were going through all the standout guys you had dated in your 20s.

“Remember that one guy from the US who was the hockey player?”

“Biz?” You asked, thinking back to when you briefly lived in NYC. You’d met him at an event you had planned for the Rangers and were immediately charmed. He was the life of the party; dumber than a rock, though.

“I think he was definitely the funniest guy you’ve ever dated,” Nico said. Nico had met him once and was fascinated by the way he talked. The Canadian accent mixed with that hockey slang was like an alien language to your brother.

“Until he couldn’t keep it in his pants,” you reminded everyone. It was never serious between the two of you so you weren’t that heartbroken at the time, just mildly irritated.

“You need an older man,” your friend said and everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Your phone buzzed against your thigh and your eyebrows furrowed while looking at the notification.

“Speaking of older men, guess who just slid up on my story?”

“Who?” Your brother asked.

“Lewis,” you said, slightly confused. “He said ‘happy birthday sunshine, hope you had a day filled with those you love.’”

“I didn’t know you guys talked,” Nico said, trying to keep his voice casual.

“We don’t,” you said reassuring your brother. “Nothing more than pleasantries when I see him at races.”

While Lewis and Nico had mostly mended their relationship, it was still a sore subject in the family. It was a long time ago but you remember how he went from being someone that was like an older brother to you to someone whose name was forbidden to speak. Now when you saw him it was slightly awkward for you at least. You could tell he always wanted to speak more but you came up with any excuse to cut a conversation short.

“He’s just being friendly,” you said, pushing it to the back of your mind.

——————————————————

The last two weeks of your January were spent in Italy, and you really wished you could have been here in the summer instead, but duty calls. Working for an event marketing agency, you had garnered quite the reputation in your 8 years working for them and were now in charge of a lot of VIP events.

Ferrari had hired your firm to plan their season kickoff party and you had been ran ragged the past couple of months putting things together. You flew out 2 weeks in advance to be on the ground for finishing touches and you were proud of what your team accomplished. It was lavish.

Donning a floor length, black dress, you grabbed a champagne flute off a passing waiter, eyes scanning the room. Because of your seniority, you weren’t necessarily in charge of anything day of, but you couldn’t help but keep an eye out on how things were going.

The main ceremony went on without a hitch, people enjoyed their dinners, and now a DJ started a set for those who wanted to stay late and party. You made one last round, checking on your staff that was here before heading to the coat check. While waiting for the woman to retrieve your coat, you felt someone come up very close next to you.

“Leaving already?” Lewis asked, and you turned to take him in. He was wearing a fitted suit, the color of his new team, and a small smile.

“Yeah, my team has it under control,” you responded politely before turning to grab the coat.

“Please don’t leave,” he said, surprising you. “You always leave when I try to talk to you.”

“You know why,” you responded quietly and his eyes softened.

“That was a long time ago,” he murmured. “One drink.”

“Okay,” you said giving in. He still had the same effect on you that he did when you were 13 and hopelessly in love with your brother’s best friend. The need to please him still existed deep in your soul, even though you had tried to push it down. Nico wasn’t the only heart that Lewis had broken, intentional or not.

His hand rested on your lower back as you let yourself be guided back into the event with him and to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and could feel the weight of his stare on the side of your face. Turning to look at him, he still didn’t say anything, it was like he was memorizing every inch of your face.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said and you blushed, looking away.

“Thank you, Lewis,” you said back, voice wavering. You cursed yourself internally for still letting him have this effect on you.

“How long are you in Italy?” He asked.

“Just a couple more days, then back to London,” you told him and he tilted his head, thinking.

“Can I take you out?”

You stared at him dumbfounded, a small smirk working it’s way onto his face.

“Like on a date?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” You asked and he chuckled.

“I want to spend time with you,” he said, simply.

“I think the last time we hung out one on one, I had just turned 21,” you said, reminiscing.

Something had shifted back then when you had reached your 20s. Lewis had started to look at you in a different way. Suddenly you weren’t his friend’s little sister anymore, you were a grown, beautiful woman. You had danced the line with him between being friends and something more that season, but as his and your brother’s relationship quickly deteriorated you stepped back.

“Those were good times,” Lewis said. “Sometimes I think about what would have happened between us if things had gone differently at Mercedes.”

His admission made your body heat up and the way he was looking at you didn’t help.

“Too late now,” you whispered and he shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ll pick you up from your hotel tomorrow afternoon.”

—————————————————————————

Lewis had texted you in the morning to wear something warm but casual so you picked out a soft white sweater to pair with jeans. After getting ready, you called the person that you needed to tell about this so that you could feel at ease.

“Hey y/n, what’s up? How was the event last night?” Nico said over the phone.

“It was good, everything went accordingly,” you replied nervous. “I talked with Lewis for a bit.”

The phone was silent and you sighed.

“That’s nice.” Your brother said tightly.

“He asked me to hang out while we’re both here,” you said quietly.

“Are you going to go?” He asked.

“If you don’t want me to Nico just say the word and I will cancel and we don’t have to ever discuss it again.”

The phone was quiet for a bit before he spoke again, “do you want to go out with him?”

“I don’t know,” you said sighing. “It’s complicated. I still remember what it felt like back then, and I haven’t had that feeling with any guy since. But then everything happened and it’s been almost ten years so I don’t know.”

“I don’t want you to put my feelings above your own happiness,” Nico said and you felt your eyes well up with tears. “Me and him are good okay? If you want to see where it goes, I’ll support you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, I’ll talk to you later.”

By the time you collected yourself, Lewis had texted that he was waiting outside so you headed down to meet him. He was standing outside his car, in a Tommy sweater, shades covering his eyes. His lips turned upwards as he saw you and he greeted you with a tight hug, kissing your cheek softly.

“Beautiful, as always,” he complimented and you smiled softly at him, blush filling your cheeks. He helped you into the car and you waited for him to get in.

“I thought maybe we could walk around the city and check out one of the art museums,” he suggested and you nodded. The car ride to downtown was quiet, soft music playing in the background as you stared out the window.

Cold air stung your face as you got out of the car but you didn’t mind, you loved the cold. You and Lewis started walking and small chatter took over the silence between the two of you. You told him about everywhere your job had taken you and what London was like now. He told you about some of the brand partnerships he was working on and how hard the last two seasons at Mercedes had been.

As you walked through the streets of Milan, you felt yourself relaxing more in Lewis' presence. His warm smile and easy conversation reminded you of the close friendship you used to have years ago, before everything got complicated.

"I've missed this," Lewis said softly as you strolled side by side. "Just talking with you, being around you."

You glanced at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "I've missed it too," you admitted.

Reaching the art museum, you spent the next couple hours wandering through the exhibits together. Lewis was surprisingly knowledgeable about art history, and you found yourself engrossed in discussions about various paintings and sculptures.

As you exited the museum, the sky had darkened and a light snow was falling. Lewis gently took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. The gesture felt so natural, so right, that you didn't pull away.

“Why now, after all this time?" You blurted out.

Lewis was quiet for a moment before responding. "I've done a lot of reflecting lately. On my career, my relationships, the things that truly matter. And I realized that one of my biggest regrets was letting you slip away without ever exploring what could have been between us."

His words made your heart skip a beat. You'd tried so hard over the years to push down your feelings for Lewis, convincing yourself it was just a convenient crush.

“Lewis…,” you started but he cut you off.

“I want to try, y/n,” he said. “We can take things slow but I need to try.”

“Okay,” you whispered and he grinned.

————————————————————-

The next couple of weeks were spent texting each other back and forth; Lewis showered you with gifts sent to your London apartment: flowers, chocolate, food, and a paddock pass for the beginning of the season testing.

You ended up flying to Bahrain with Nico who had to be there for work and you could tell that he was still uneasy about what was growing between you and Lewis so you really didn’t bring it up.

Lewis was already at the track when you arrived, so you didn’t get to see him until the following day, which was fine by you. You needed a moment to calm your nerves and take in the environment. Anytime you had been at a race, it had been with a Mercedes pass around your neck, so Ferrari's red was a weird change. You ended up arriving at the same time as Charles Leclerc, whom you had met a handful of times over the years.

“Y/n, good to see you!” He exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “Here with Nico?”

“Lewis invited me actually,” you said and his eyes widened with surprise. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said smirking. “How does your brother feel about that?”

You shrugged, “He’s trying.”

Charles nodded and fell in step beside you, insisting you find him to meet his girlfriend, Alex, later on. When you reached the garage, you saw Lewis already in his element, arms crossed, talking to an engineer while looking over the car. Hearing Charles talking, he turned his head and a smile broke out when he saw you.

“Hi love,” he said as he got closer to you.

“Hi Lewis,” you replied, reaching your arms around his shoulders. His own arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Ready for today?”

“Of course,” he said pulling back and smiling at you. “I’ve done this a couple of times now.

“Mmhmm, only a couple right?” You teased and he chuckled.

He led you over to near his car, finding a spot for you against the wall.

“I want you right here,” he instructed. “This way you are the first thing I see when I get back out.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “such a charmer you are.”

“Only for you,” he teased back and you flushed. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

Testing was testing, and Lewis looked good to you; the team seemed happy in the garage, so you took that as a good sign. Sure enough, you were the first thing Lewis saw as he got out of the car.

“I have a bunch of meetings for the rest of the day, but I’d love if you’d join me for dinner with the team,” he said and you nodded, agreeing to meet him later. You left the garage to find your brother who was on a break from being on air.

“He looked good,” Nico said. “Weird seeing him in that car though.”

“I know, I really thought he’d never leave,” you said.

You and Nico chatted for a while longer about the day's testing before he had to get back to work. As you wandered through the paddock, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about dinner with Lewis and the Ferrari team later.

When evening came, you made your way to the restaurant where the team dinner was being held. As you approached, you saw Lewis waiting outside for you, looking handsome in a typical stylish Lewis Hamilton fit.

"There you are," he said warmly, pulling you into a hug. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," you replied, smoothing down your dress. "I hope I'm not overdressed."

"Not at all," Lewis assured you. "Come on, let's head inside."

As you entered the restaurant, you were greeted by the lively chatter of the Ferrari team. Lewis kept his hand on the small of your back, making sure you stayed close to his side. He let you pick where to sit and you sat across from Charles and his girlfriend.

The two of you hit it off, chatting throughout dinner with Charles chiming in or talking to someone else. Lewis was always quieter in big groups, so you were used to him silently observing. His hand rested on your thigh as he relaxed, gently tracing your skin.

Eventually, you got up to use the restroom, Alex following you.

“So how long have you guys been together?” She asked as you were touching up your lipgloss in the mirror.

“Oh we aren’t,” you replied to her surprise. “We are seeing where things go.”

She bit her lip, looking at you with a smile on her face.

“The way he looks at you,” she started and you met her eyes in the mirror. “It’s like no one else is there. Only you.”

You smiled to yourself thinking of that look you had caught on his face a couple of times tonight.

“I guess so,” you muttered lightly and she squeezed your hand.

Something shifted in you as you walked back to the table and you really looked at him as he lit back up at your arrival.

As you sat back down next to Lewis, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at you, the gentle pressure of his hand as it found its way back to your thigh - it all felt so right. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, drawn to his presence.

The rest of the dinner flew by in a blur of laughter and conversation. As people started to filter out, Lewis turned to you.

"Want to take a walk?" he asked softly. You nodded, standing up and saying your goodbyes to the remaining team members.

The night air was cool as you stepped outside, and Lewis immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You walked in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company.

"I'm really glad you came," Lewis said eventually, breaking the quiet. "It means a lot to have you with me.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a flutter in your chest. "I'm glad I came too. It's been nice spending time with you again."

Lewis stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes intense. "Y/n, I know we said we'd take things slow, but I can't help how I feel. Being with you these past few weeks, it's like no time has passed at all. All those old feelings are right there on the surface."

Your breath caught in your throat as he gently cupped your face with his hands. "I'm falling for you all over again," he murmured. "And this time, I don't want to let you go."

Your heart was pounding as you gazed into his eyes. All the reasons you had pushed him away before seemed to fade away. This felt right. It felt like coming home.

"Lewis," you whispered, "I think I'm falling back in love with you.”

Instead of responding with words, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss, moving your lips slowly against his as he held you close to his body.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he murmured and you smiled softly at him. Holding his hand in yours as you walked back to the hotel. Love finds a way.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader

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cindersnows · 2 days ago

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the problem with mitsi (or as i like to call it. mitsogyny)

(context: this was written under a youtube video, which i'm sure most of us have at least seen pop up in our recommendeds, in response to many people taking criticism against the new episode. it has been edited a little to be more cohesive as a somewhat-essay)

ok, i wanted to write out a rant/essay/ramble/whatever sort of summarising the criticism against mitsi's plotline because a lot of the people here seem to be misunderstanding the fundamental issue that people have with it, including some of those people themselves.

first off, an analysis that i think tell both sides of the argument very well which i feel should be read before reading the essay: Mitsi: What Makes A Fridged Character (and why y'all are wrong about it) | an AvA essay by InksandPensblog. i will note: i don't care to discuss whether mitsi was fridged or not and that won't be of much importance in this post. the above link gives some insight into some of the fandom's criticism of mitsi and how she was "fridged", defining common tropes for examples. that's what's relevant to this post.

the main issue with mitsi, in my opinion, is less with the fact that mitsi's a girl and moreso the fact that she's one of the only female-coded character in the series, and that her character's main purpose was to further victim's own development. the other arguably female-coded character in the series is pink, who (like navy) only really exists to explain purple's motivations. i don't have much of an issue with that since they're not meant to be important or sympathised with at all. that's not their job in the story.

with mitsi, i've seen people point out that she has more character to her than just victim's love interest and supporter: she invents rocketcorp, she's smart, she's kind, innocent and helpful. narratively speaking, she shows other creations' relationships with their animators, parallels her innocence with victim's trauma, and introduces victim to the outernet (as most fans call the stick realm).

but most of this things imo are either stretches or invalid arguments. she's not really a 2/3-dimensional character in any way; her main character traits boil down to the fact that she likes to be in service of others with no nuance behind why she likes helping people. she hypes up victim for the villagers, she starts a company with him to share his talents with the world, and she helps him overcome his trauma from alan's torture. all of her main plot beats center around victim: and while technically the sticks are genderless and free to be interpreted however the viewer wants, alan and most of his team see all the main characters as male, and that subconciously affects how they're written. mitsi, the first major female-coded character, spends most of her storyline in service of victim, a character not written as female.

there's also the issue of her being victim's canonical love interest. i feel like this statement from alan is important to keep in mind (don't mind the sound effects and edits, this is the only isolated clip i can find at the moment). in particular:

"i just assume that [the ava/m characters] are just a bunch of bros]. i haven't thought of adding any female stick figures but i think it'd be good. i don't want to introduce any romance though, i don't want that to be a theme."

he seems to have changed his mind on that last part, which is fine, but the notable part for me is that he seems to associate female characters with romance from the getgo. before anyone misinterprets this, i'm not trying to call alan sexist or anything. but there's a common issue with women in stories being reduced to just a romantic partner for the male lead, and mitsi falls under this, with her entire character existing to serve victim. (not to mention people will make things about romance whether you like it or not. that's just basic fandom. search up grapeduo or chodark.) even her death is to put victim on the path of vengeance--- it doesn't need to happen to show the extent of tco and tdl's destruction, because that's already made pretty clear in ava s2 the flashback and the earlier scenes showing various characters escaping burning buildings. when you write a female-coded character whose only purpose is to serve a male character, you're contributing to sexist narratives.

a counter i see many people point out with the idea that she has no character is that she does have character traits, it's just that they're generic ones like "kind" and "innocent". the issue is that she has no flaws to counterpoint this; it's not that she didn't have enough screentime. in ava4 for example, we see tsc's flaws pretty clearly; they can be very mean when they want to, they're petty (albeit for a fair reason), they're a little impulsive. this is shown in 11 minutes (from the moment they come alive to the end of the video).

with mitsi meanwhile… she doesn't seem to have any flaws? she helps victim whenever she can. she's nice to all the villagers. her customers all like her and she's a great leader at rocket corp (to note, specifically as part of a pair with victim. they're a power couple, she's barely given credit for her work alone). she has 13 minutes of screentime, or 10 if you count from her waking up in the outernet. there's plenty of opportunities to show her having flaws; maybe she acts a little selfish during tdl and tco's attack, only wanting to help herself and agent smith, or maybe she overworks herself, or feels awkward at having too much attention (and that could also be why she redirects so much attention to victim, she's shy). you could argue that the episode needs to develop victim and agent smith too, but ava4 shows that's easy to do too: just a few seconds dedicated to showing rgyb fighting over who leaves first shows that they can be selfish and childish. it's very easy to insert a moment like that for mitsi.

it's a little disappointing when the first major female-coded character in ava is completely flawless, with no personality outside of being nice and helpful for others.

also, slightly unrelated, check out this quote from mitsi's plushie website: "her white featureless face seems to ooze mystery and feminine power all at the same time." her main character trait, as a woman, is being feminine. it's irritating as someone who's been raised a woman to see her reduced to just her gender. she feels more plastic than a person, like the concept of what a woman should be (perfect, kind, useful) and not an actual character/person.

i would expect more from the writing in the series seeing as it's not just an independent passion project anymore, and has multiple writers that all could've worked to flesh out mitsi, or at least get a sensitivity reader of sorts to point these issues out. it's extremely disappointing and i can understand why people were upset.

tldr: the problem isn't just that mitsi's a girl, or that she's nice or dating victim, it's that she's written in a misogynistic way.

#alan becker #animation vs animator #animation vs minecraft #ava mitsi #ava victim #avm mitsi #theo's rambles #ava vitsi #ava vicsi #victim x mitsi #animator vs animation #ava ships #avm ships #ava agent smith

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tyrantisterror · 3 days ago

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At Sea Without a Map Post-Script

After two months of so, my little writing experiment At Sea Without a Map has come to an end. And because I'm vain, I not only felt compelled to share it, but to talk about it in depth after the fact, so here we are. This is going to be long, though, so I'm not only going to break it into sections, but put it all under the cut for the sake of your dashboard. So go ahead and dive into the depths of the Sea of Monsters with me one more time!

Part 1: Never Stop Blowing Up

The writing process of Wizard School Mysteries Book 3 was really strained - not because of the book itself, mind you. When I was actually able to work on it, Book 3 came together really well - I think it required the least substantial rewrites of any my novels thus far. It's just that real life was kind of beating the shit out of me while I was trying to get it done - or maybe the better metaphor was that it was just slowly but steadily draining me of energy all the time. I'm honestly surprised I got the book out in roughly the same amount of time as the first two - by the way life had been treating me, it should have taken longer.

But when I got done with it I was accutely aware of how tired I was. I still had the creative drive, but fuck I needed something simple as a palette cleanser - something easy, and more importantly, something that was allowed to be bad. I needed something creative to do that was surplus to requirements and fully within its rights to suck ass so long as I had fun making it.

Around this time, I decided to rewatch Dimension 20's Never Stop Blowing Up. Brief explanation of what that is: Dimension 20 is an actual play show, i.e. a recording of people playing D&D and other TTRPGs. I'd say its reputation is built on the contrast of its main DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who makes these meticulously crafted campaign plans, and his chaotic band of improv comedian players who promptly derail those plans spectacularly. Like, a good deal of the show's humor comes from Emily Ashford or Ally Beardsly doing something so off-the-wall that it shatters whatever the scene was going to be and creates a far more absurd and zany spectacle in its place. Which is why Never Stop Blowing Up is pretty notable, because it's the one campaign where Brennan himself is the agent of chaos, fully unleashing his own brand of madness that the players struggle to keep up with. And fuck does he seem to have fun with it.

Of course, all of the analysis above is purely from the outside looking in - it's likely that a lot of the "chaos" is played up for the audience. But still... there is something to the idea of a person who's been working on meticulously structured stories letting loose and just doing something extremely stupid.

So I decided to give myself a Never Stop Blowing Up moment - a short story that would be simple by design, with no standards to live up to or goal beyond "have fun telling a silly little story." I then came up with a few key criteria:

It can't be set in the Midgaheim/ATOM universe. I don't want the burden of figuring out where this story would fit among others.

It's gotta be a romance. People who've read my books might have picked up on the fact that I like to write about people falling in love, for the same reason I like to write about fire-breathing reptiles and friendly monsters (i.e. I use writing to indulge in things I'll never experience in real life). I've only used romance as subplots in my fiction before, and tend to feel a bit guilty if I focus on it too long - like I'm being self indulgent. Well, this is all about self indulgence, so the romance should be front and center.

It's gotta be SIMPLE, episodic even. Not complex plotting required.

I almost chose my xenomorph romance for this, but I had developed its outline to the point where it would be too complex to fit. I then considered a sort of superhero story that could be pitched as "what if Bringing Up Baby but Katherine Hepburn's character is a Harley Quinn-esque supervillain and Cary Grant's character gets turned into some sort of horrifying genetic mutant in the first ten minutes." That one hit a weird roadblock when I got to the character brainstorming phase (the first phase of any writing project I do) - I was trying to figure out what the mad scientist who turns out Cary Grant-figure into a mutant would be named, came up with the name "Dr. Skullfuck," immediately realized that having a character named "Dr. Skullfuck" is a Mark Millar-ass writing move that I could not allow myself to do, but then couldn't stop thinking of the name "Dr. Skullfuck" and giggling, which just brought all thinking to a grinding halt on that project.

(I'll still probably do it someday, though - just, you know, without Dr. Skullfuck)

Inspiration struck again, though. I'd been getting into Epic: The Musical, a musical retelling of The Odyssey, and it put me in the mood for a sea monster story. But, more than that, it got me thinking about one particular archetype from sea monster stories - but that brings us to the next part of this Post Script...

Part 2: It Was Always About Calibani

Ok, so, one of the big changes Epic: The Musical made involved Odysseus's encounter with the sirens, and before you read more of my rambling, I'd like you to watch two animatics for the two songs in question here:

youtube

A summary: one of the sirens takes the form of Odysseus's wife to try and tempt him into getting in the water, Odysseus tricks her into giving him directions, captures her and the rest of her kind, and proceeds to have his men slaughter them horribly. In the OG story the sirens don't die - nor does their song involve imitating a man's wife, for that matter, it's just a really pretty song.

This is done for an important narrative purpose - Epic: The Musical is focused on analyzing the moral ambiguity of Odysseus, and how it is constantly challenged by the impossible choices he is forced to make in his attempt to get home. At this point in the musical, Odysseus has decided to stop trying to be a compassionate man, shirking all mercy in favor of utter ruthless pursuit of his goals. These two songs are meant to be unsettling as hell - this is the beginning of a series of heartless choices by both Odysseus and his men that will culminate in the mutiny and complete annihilation of Odysseus's crew, as well as Odysseus himself being so hopelessly stranded that nothing short of divine intervention will save him.

I bring this up because when I first heard these two songs - specifically while watching these two animatics - it, like... it devastated me. I was so horrified and sad, so shaken by it. And part of it was for the reasons outlined above, but admittedly that wasn't the gut reaction I had. No, my immediate reaction was, and I quoute my own broken brain verbatim here: "You can't kill the sirens! They're not for killing, they're for loving!"

...now, those of you who know me are probably not surprised by this very stupid sentiment coming from me. One of my more popular posts is just me talking about how down bad I would be for various folkloric monsters whose whole shtick is "looks like a pretty lady but Watch Out." But as a person filled with immense self loathing and doubt, my brain immediately looked at that very stupid sentiment I expressed and said, "Wait, no, that's fucking dumb, I'm fucking dumb. The sirens are remorseless murderers. These sirens in particular preyed upon a man's love for his wife, who he has not seen in twelve years, to convince him to let them kill him. They are, by all standards of morality, Very Fucking Evil, and if they were not women you would not feel bad about them getting killed."

And as my brain argued with itself over this topic, I got to thinking about the various monstrous/othered sea women of The Odyssey - not just the sirens, but the witch Circe, the nymph Calypso, the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. And I thought about the others of their kind in other myths and folktales - selkies, mermaids, etc.

There's an archetype of sea monster that focuses entirely on one specific anxiety sailors are prone to, namely the fact that (for a good deal of human history) being on a boat meant spending a lot of time away from women. The horror of this monster is how it uses that desire for female company to tempt people into danger - like a mirage, it leads you to expose yourself to danger in pursuit of an illusory comfort.

But, unlike real world mirages, these monstrous sea women DO exist in their stories. More than that, they're often, like, sad and lonely. Their narrative purpose is just to be a temptation, but that doesn't change the fact that they do have lives of their own in these worlds. And, softie that I am, I can't help feeling sad for them, especially the ones who actually seem to want the same companionship the sailors they tempt want. Sailors don't stay with their Circes, they don't marry their Calypsos. The sirens live on a barren rock, alone, Scylla is left to wallow in misery at her monstrous form, and the selkie always has to leave for fear of being trapped by a person who won't love her on her terms.

I realized I had my hook for this simple, easy, silly little sea monster romance story: I was going to give a sea woman the happy ending she'd never get from anyone else.

Sailor may be the protagonist, but make no mistake: At Sea Without a Map was always, always, ALWAYS about Calibani.

The goal with Calibani was simple: I was going to set up a fairly standard Monstrous Sea Woman, but where other stories would let her be in one episode of the travel narrative and move on, this one would stick around. She'd be an unambiguous predator of human beings - an open and admitted maneater - but she would have no true malice to her. She, like all predators, eats what she can get to survive, and it just so happens that she's adapted to eat humans. And the story would pose the same question to the reader that my brain posed to me during Different Beast: is there any way you could make a siren-style sea monster sympathetic? Can you make a normal person who doesn't have my particular brain rot look at a maneating siren and think, "You're not supposed to kill her, you're supposed to love her!"

One of the few unavoidable plot points of At Sea Without a Map was that Calibani and Sailor's relationship would become romantic. What kind of romance it was could have varied substantially - it could have been one-sided, it could have been toxic, it could have been far more tragic OR far more comedic. But it was always, always going to be a romance of some sort - the goal of this experiment was to make you, the reader, love Calibani. All else was icing on the cake.

I decided to base Calibani's personality on Miranda from The Tempest - i.e. a sweet girl who is both wordly and naive, who understands the strange setting of our "lost at sea" story far better than the audience viewpoint character does, but views the mundane world of the audience viewpoint character with wonder and naiveté. In fact I almost named her Miranda outright... except I already had a character in the setting I chose for this story who had that name, and as an allusion to the same Shakespearean character no less. So I settled on naming her after Miranda's adoptive sibling (of sorts), Caliban - more fitting in some ways, as Caliban is a fish-human hybrid who is arguable more native to the magic island in The Tempest than Miranda herself.

(Calibani isn't the only Tempest name homage, either - her mother, Sycorax, takes her name directly from Caliban's unseen but oft-spoken of witch mother. Dr. Antonia Warefore takes her first name from Antonio, one of the human villains in The Tempest who hopes to use being lost at sea as a way to perform a coup. And the mothman Iriel takes her name from Ariel, the wind spirit in The Tempest who aids the wizard Prospero in controlling the magic island. If Sailor has a "real" name, it's probably either Ferdinand or Miranda, the two lovers who manage to blend civilization and the wilderness together with their romance.)

Visually, I wanted Calibani to not be any common archetype of sea monster woman, but rather something that evokes the popular images while still being her own thing. She's not a mermaid or a siren or a selkie - she's basically "what if a sea serpent was also a girl." In-universe, she's chubby because she, like all marine megafauna, needs blubber to survive. Out-of-universe, she's chubby because I've found that routinely drawing cute chubby girls is good for my mental health.

Part 3: CYOA

Now, while we live in a post-Muncher society where shame and cringe are emotions only the cowardly should experience, I am nonetheless Very Catholic about expressing my own feelings of, like, liking girls and shit. I cannot help feeling guilty when publicly expressing adoration of women without, like, an excuse - it's gotta be a joke or something, you know? I can't be genuine about it, or else Jesus will beat me with a cane for disrespecting women with my lecherous gaze.

But luckily I've cultivated a loyal audience of fellow monsterfuckers, which meant I had an excuse lined up: if I made this a choose your own adventure type deal, a story with audience participation, then you all would be my accomplices. And Jesus can't cane all of us! He doesn't have enough hands! I found a loophole bigger than his stigmata!

Plus I love collaborative story-telling - there's a thrill in not having total control of where the narrative is going. As Brennan Lee Mulligan must know, there's a joy in having to deal with the chaos thrown your way by letting others grab the figurative ball, even if just for a moment.

Part 4: Offbeat Melody

Since I did not want to set this story in Midgaheim, I decided to steer myself away from a vaguely medieval setting altogether. But I also didn't want to limit myself with the need for "realism" that putting it in a normal sea would require, and making a new setting whole cloth would start pushing this project into "not easy" territory.

Luckily, I had a setting lying around that I hadn't played with in a while, which just so happened to have a location that was PERFECT for the sort of Never Stop Blowing Up style madness I was aiming for. For a few years I ran a Monster of the Week TTRPG campaign called Offbeat Melody, and one of its core setting elements was taking the goblin universe hypothesis in paranormal science (yeah it's a real hypothesis) to an illogical extreme. We had specifically seen glimpses of the Sea of Monsters in Offbeat Melody, i.e. the parallel universe where monsters like Nessie, Ogopogo, Champ, and the like all hail from. Well, why not have a whole story set there? It's literally a universe devoted solely to creating sea monsters - what better place to strand our modern Odysseus?

Offbeat Melody was always sort of a Never Stop Blowing Up project, or at least NSBU adjacent. Some of my most unhinged story-telling moments are in that campaign - you could make a supercut of just the "commercial breaks" in the various sessions and it'd basically be an I Think You Should Leave episode. Taking one obscure corner of its multiversal world and exploring it in detail was perfect for this project.

Part 5: Monster by Monster

With our main romance as sorted out as could be for a CYOA story, it was time to figure out the "episodes" of this sea voyage. I settled on there being ten to roughly align with The Odyssey - just in terms of number, mind you, not in a one-to-one comparison. The first was, obviously, Calibani herself, which left nine more slots for me to fill with monsters. Let's go through them together in brief:

Tree Storks - any lost at sea story eventually has to get its protagonist into an island at some point, but this immediately begs the question, "Why don't they just stay on the island where it's safe?" The answer to that question has to be, "it's not safe there, actually." The Odyssey does this quickly and cleverly with a one two punch: the first island seems safe until you realize the food on it brainwashes you into forgetting everything except your desire to eat it, and the second island is full of delicious sheep but also giants who will eat you just as easily as they eat the sheep. When other islands show up in the story later, you immediately regard them with suspicion, because you don't know HOW they're going to be fucked up, but they definitely will be. My goal with the second episode was to establish the same sort of danger - that land is NOT safe, that islands WILL be fucked up and dangerous in ways you might not expect.

I also wanted to establish that this is not just a sea of monsters, but a very WEIRD sea of WEIRD monsters. It couldn't be any old monster on this island - it had to be one that was unique, unexpected, and maybe just a bit silly while still being menacing.

I've always felt that there's a lot of un-mined horror potential in storks, cranes, and herons - any bird with a long neck and spear-like beak it uses to stab smaller creatures from above. Just imagine yourself in a frog's place in the world - tiny, going about your business, when suddenly something shoots down at you from above and impales you before you even feel the shadow fall over your face. Or perhaps you did see the shadow - some of these birds spread their wings to create shade specifically to attract fish, and then spear the poor little bastards.

Well, what do people often look to islands for when out at sea? Shade - the shade of a palm tree. And palm fronds kinda resemble feathers, don't they? Wouldn't it be both ludicrous and terrifying is there was a stork big enough to mimic a palm tree - and wouldn't that be a DEVIOUS trap for a sun-drenched sailor to fall for? So the Tree Storks were born.

The Globster - I made a list of sea monster archetypes in the early planning for this project, and one I wanted to include was a kraken, i.e. some sort of tentacled sea beast. But I didn't want to do JUST a big squid or octopus, or even a riff on them. I wanted to take the idea of "big sea monster with lots of tentacles" into a stranger direction.

Since the Sea of Monsters is explicitly the home universe of lake and sea monster cryptids, I thought it might be fun if ASWaM's kraken equivalent was a globster - just a big ball of rotten meat. I love drawing monstrous faces, so I decided it'd just be, like, MADE of hideous rotten faces, all melting and congealing together, with its tentacles doubling as the tongues of its many mouths. A perfectly wretched image that, like the Tree Storks, would do well to establish how Fucked things could get in this setting. Plus similar monsters had appeared in Offbeat Melody, which would make for a fun sense of familiarity for the, like, five or so readers of mine who had listened to that campaign before.

Captain Peter & the Dolphin - Another thing I did in the early planning stages of this project was make a list of the different sea voyage stories I know and love, the most contentious of which is The Life of Pi. That's a story that I love on a literal level but kind of hate on a figurative level - its whole theme/message is that doubt is the worst thing you can have, that if you don't commit to believing something with zealous conviction you are a coward. As a person who thinks doubt is valid, that "I don't know" is sometimes the ONLY truly valid answer to a question, I have issues with that message.

But I can't help loving the beautifully ludicrous idea of a non-anthropomorphic tiger sailing the ocean on a big Odyssey of its own. Like, if that story didn't actively hate me for being agnostic, it would be one of my favorites.

So I decided to, you know, just steal the idea of a tiger Odysseus. The tiger in The Life of Pi is named Richard Parker. Richard Parker also happens to be the name of Peter Parker's dad. Hence we get Captain Peter - the figurative son of Richard Parker, if you will. And to ratchet up the absurdity of a tiger Odysseus, I made him a pirate and the sole sailor of his voyage. Somehow, this tiger has manned a boat on his own.

Captain Peter was intended to be the hero of another story - a sign for the readers that it IS possible for a stranded person (or, in this case, tiger) to survive out here. To that end, he had to rescue our heroes from another threat, but not one that would be interesting enough to take the focus off of the tiger pirate. Originally I planned for that threat to just be a big shark, but I ended up liking my shark design too much to put it in a role that small, so I quickly designed a nasty dolphin for the role instead. I think that worked out well, honestly.

Dr. Neptune - Episodes 5 and 6 were the mid-point of this journey, so I wanted the two monsters of those to escalate things significantly. I figured episode 5 was probably a good place to FINALLY give some meaningful exposition on what was going on, and there are a lot of stories about mad scientists doing weird shit on islands in my big list of sea voyage stories I love. So we get Dr. Neptune, a classical brain-in-a-jar mad scientist who's affable enough to give more-or-less accurate exposition but loony enough to be a problem. This also felt like a good spot to remind the reader that Calibani is not just a girl with a tail but rather a Sea Monster herself, and one that we'd been making stronger by allying with.

With his human-but-not-quite nature and cyclops eye, Dr. Neptune could sort of be seen as the Polyphemus of this story, couldn't he?

The Crocodisle - One of the sea monster archetypes on my list was "the island that's actually a sleeping monster," of which there are many in mythology and folklore. My favorite is the Jasconius from the voyage of St. Brendan, mainly because it's more or less benign and actually comes back to help St. Brendan and his crew at the end of the story. I always love when I can find an old story with a friendly monster in it.

When thinking of my own spin on the island monster concept, I remembered the only Magic the Gathering card I had as a kid, which I still have and love to this day: The Sandbar Crocodile. This card already inspired Crocogon's color scheme in The Atomic time of Monsters, but I felt I could go to that well again one more time, and so made a crocodile that wasn't just a sandbar, but a whole damn island to itself. And, like Jasconius, it turns out he's pretty chill.

I did not think of the pun name "Crocodisle" until I was actually writing the chapter in question.

The Femdom Mermaids - These three were a late addition to the roster. When I had Calibani bring up mermaids early in the story, I realized as soon as I wrote her rant about them that we'd HAVE to meet some later on in the story.

The readers had significantly shaped Calibani and Sailor's romance by this point, and I decided that it could be useful to have a chapter that was devoted to showing definitively how these two were good for each other. I thought the mermaids could provide a good contrast: have them act out a seemingly more benign take on the monstrous sea women trope (they abduct our hero to protect and care for them!) only for it to quickly feel MORE deranged than Calibani's comparatively simple desire just to eat him.

The spirit of Calibani's rant about mermaids was taken from weird* girls I knew in high school complaining about cheerleaders, so I wanted the mermaids to look like the sea monster equivalent of popular kids to Calibani's chubby weird girl. Two of them got the names of famous beauties - Helyne = Helen of Troy, Clio = Cleopatra.

(*when I say "weird" I mean it in a complimentary and affectionate sense)

Bob, meanwhile, kinda... rebelled, I guess? Before I had names for them, I listed "bob" by her as just, like, a descriptor for her hair cut, but then I liked it as her name, and once she was named Bob she became more than just a mean popular girl. She was a weirdo too, the little punching bag of the two mean popular girls who did their dirty work and smiled through their abuse because hey, at least they included her. It gave the trio an easily defined dynamic, helped make two of the three more visibly nasty, and gave us comic relief in an arc that could very well have gotten too uncomfortable otherwise.

And I guess it worked - readers REALLY loved Bob, and were very vocal about it, and I realized mid-arc that I had accidentally made her too likable to just leave in this arc. So Bob got to be rescued from her awful friend group thanks to readers like YOU.

Lord Ironteeth - yeah, this was the shark that was too cool to be a minor threat. When I drew his noggin, I realized he would need a chapter of his own, one with gravitas. I decided he'd specifically be the threshold guardian -once we beat him, we'd know for sure how to get home, even if there were a few more threats in store.

Spindle Inc and Sycorax - when I was a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare about being on some sort of underwater sea station that had this huge sea serpent trapped inside it. I'd look at the sea serpent from a window within the station and see it coiling in its tank, only for it to look at me with fury. In that glance I would suddenly realize two things with absolute clarity: first, it was going to break free and kill everyone, and second, we deserved that destruction for what we had done to it. The terror of the dream was less that the sea serpent was going to break free, and more the guilt of knowing that all the mayhem that was about to unfold was our fault to begin with.

I thought that would be fun to homage with the penultimate chapter of this story. OBVIOUSLY the sea serpent was Calibani's mom, obviously the trauma of its capture was why Calibani grew into a predator that specializes in hunting humans, obviously we would have to free the sea serpent despite that running counter to Sailor's goal of getting home. Easy, easy, easy plot point to include.

Spindle, Inc. is the primary antagonistic force in Offbeat Melody, so they easily slotted into the role of the arrogant humans who captured this monster for nefarious and selfish motives. They could tie a lot of other plot threads together too - Dr. Neptune was a scientist who worked for them as a contractor only to get screwed over (i.e. they stranded him in the Sea of Monsters, expecting him to die, and then used his research to make their own base of operations in it), we'd learn of him through a spindle briefcase left behind by some unfortunate rogue agent who got eaten by the Globster while he was trying to escape, hell they could even be one of the possible origins of Sailor themself (more on that later). Very useful villains, Spindle.

The Abyssal Mother - I knew the last sea monster would need a lot of punch to it. I briefly considered just a big whale - the Moby Dick to Spindle's corporate Ahab - but it felt underwhelming after all that came before. So I went for arguably the most dramatic possible sea monster, a full on Cthulhu-style elder god. If you're a frequent follower of this blog, you might know I have particularly high standards for Eldritch Abominations, so I realized this was going to be a pretty big challenge for me to live up to, and decided to keep the cthulhu in question reserved to the last few entries as a result - the less it appears, the less it has to live up to.

I realized I had a good angle when my experiments with the Cthulhu "squid for a head" concept ended up having a face framed in shadow - you know, the same visual that our protagonist has in most appearances. That provided some very juicy parallels between the two that made this final monster feel particularly noteworthy to me, ones that I'll leave you to ponder, since they tie into...

Part 6: Themes

I did not set out to have a theme in this story. I just wanted to make a sailor and a sea monster kiss. That was my only goal.

But I really don't begin with theme in ANY of my writing. I figure out topics I want to address, but for all my novels I feel like the themes didn't start coming together until about halfway through the first draft, when enough of the elements of the story had been set down and interacted with each other enough for me to realize what I was saying with them. A huge part of my second and third drafts for my novels have focused on making the themes of my stories more concrete and unified.

Well, ASWaM is very much a first draft of a story, but it's a simple enough story that I think the theme found itself pretty well despite lacking subsequent drafts to refine it.

ASWaM is about doubt and direction. It's about being adrift in a world that is in many ways hostile by nature, about not feeling like you're where you're supposed to be or even WHO you're supposed to be, and about setting off aimlessly in the hope that maybe you'll find your way to that mythical land of "what my life is supposed to be."

When I began the story, Sailor had amnesia and wore clothes that obscured their identity as a way to make it easier for anyone to step into Sailor's role. Sailor had to feel like You, the Reader, and so we don't know their name, their gender, their eye color, their hair color, even their skin color (note that their hands are always wearing gloves, and their face is always in shadow).

But it also meant Sailor is, well, undefined, at least at the start of the story. Sailor doesn't know who they are, what they are, how they came to be. Sailor feels distinctly that they should be Something Else, should be Somewhere Else, should be Someone Else, should not be who/what/where they are. Sailor is plagued by doubt, by a need to go in a different direction, by a need to be other than they are.

This initially contrasts with Calibani, who begins the story very confident that she is doing exactly what she was designed to be doing and acting exactly like she should be. As they interact, they begin to shift each other in opposite directions - Calibani questions her existence and nature, sometimes to a self destructive degree, and Sailor begins to find something about who and where they are that they like. They find a healthy middle ground together - doubtful enough to want to be better people, but with love for themselves that allows them to not feel the need to up-heave their lives entirely.

I knew at the start that I would build an expectation for there to be some answer to the question of who Sailor is and where they came from, because those are the questions that begin the whole narrative. I brainstormed a number of answers to those questions, but once I got a few chapters into writing the story and saw this theme of doubt developing, I realized I couldn't answer them. From a thematic standpoint, the doubt HAD to remain. So I gave hints to possible answers, bits of evidence to support the possibility of them being true, but never planted a smoking gun that answered it for sure.

Sailor can't know the answer because NONE of us know the answer. Outside of blind Life of Pi style faith, you cannot know for sure that you are living the life you're supposed to live. All you can do is figure out whether you're happy with the life you've got, or if you need a change. Sailor will never know who they are supposed to be, but they did learn who they are, and they love that person now.

For those curious, the possible Sailor origins are:

Occam's Razor: they're exactly what Dr. Neptune theorized, i.e. a human who got stranded in the Bermuda Triangle (or the Devil's Triangle or any other number of paranormal triangles) and fell into the Sea of Monsters. The trauma of that experience gave them amnesia. It's just brain damage and bad luck.

A Spindle Experiment: Dr. Warefore mentions that Spindle has been trying to find a way to make a human who can evolve like the denizens of the Sea of Monsters. Sailor may well be an attempt to do just that, perhaps one they wrote off as a failure and abandoned (they do that a lot)

A Deep One: Sailor is the offspring of one of the denizens of the Sea of Monsters (most likely the Abyssal Mother herself) who has somehow been tricked into believing they are human, to the point where they seem to be human to everyone else, even other monsters. Maybe a human summoned a sea monster to breed with on earth, and Sailor ended up being subconsciously drawn back to the Sea by their blood. Maybe Sailor never actually lived on earth at all, but was only made to THINK they had as part of the transformation into a human.

The Platonic Ideal of a Sailor: the Sea of Monsters is full of archetypal concepts, and arguably a sailor trying to find their way home is just as archetypal as any sea serpent, mermaid, or kraken. Our only proof that humans aren't native to the Sea of Monsters is Dr. Neptune, and he's not as reliable an expert as he claims to be.

This theme of doubt and direction also made the compass more important to the narrative than a simply mechanic for audience participation - a compass, after all, gives direction, and the feeling that Sailor is not where they're supposed to be, that they need to head in a different direction, is ultimately the catalyst of the plot. The compass is, in many ways, the antagonist of the story - the force that keeps Sailor from accepting themself. I realized this a little after I started making the different directions have personalities - initially they just represented broad concepts (North = follow conventional wisdom ala the North Star, South = preserve your short-term self interest at all costs, East = act with curiosity and be willing to take calculated risks, and West = throw caution to the wind and do anything that seems novel and exciting), but over time they became little characters themselves.

Since it was our thematic antagonist, I decided to pepper in some ideas about what the compass might be in-universe - and, in a move that would no doubt frustrate the compass, we also don't know for sure which of those is "correct." Is the compass a poltergeist, some amalgamation of dead sailors who try to steer other lost souls home? Is it a malign entity that leeches off of those desperate enough to seek its aid, living through them while pretending to aid them? Is it a device Spindle made to lure sailors to their clutches, OR to guide their experiments in human/monster hybrids? Was it a cursed item that forced a sea monster to assume a human shape? Who can say - the compass sure can't, it can only tell you a direction to go in.

Part 7: Q&A

Since this was an interactive story, I felt it was only fitting to add one last interactive element to this post-script write up, and some of your happily obliged me by sending in questions.

When I noticed how fast readers were falling for Calibani, I figured there was a good chance we'd end up staying in the Sea of Monsters. By chapter 7, I figured it was more or less a given, and by the end of the Lord Ironteeth encounter I was almost 100% sure Sailor would remain at sea. There was always a chance, though - while a look at the polls shows that the audience got more and more on the same page towards the end, there were always dissenting voices, and the desire to get an answer to the question of Who Sailor Was remained strong, as a number of people kept trying to find angles where they could get that AND stay with Calibani.

I was surprised early on by how easily the audience fell in love with Calibani, to the point where I made a few posts commenting on it. I mean, I shouldn't have been - as I said earlier, I have cultivated an audience of fellow monsterfuckers on here, and I know at least a few of them saw my bait and knew they could get me to be freaky in a way we found mutually agreeable (thank you all again for helping me escape being caned by Jesus for being horny).

Like, we REPEATEDLY ignored developing the plot in the Tree Storks chapter for several days just to spend more time with Calibani - something that I enjoyed immensely (this whole thing was an excuse for me to write and draw a cute chubby sea monster girl as much as possible aftter all) but also knew as a storyteller was not what most would consider a good story call. I like how it turned out, but it defied conventional narrative wisdom, you know? I was surprised.

On the other side of the coin, I was also surprised by how the audience NEVER chose an option that was humorously disastrous. I gave plenty of them, and, like, generally in collaborative storytelling there will be at least one moment where your collaborators decide to do the really, REALLY stupid thing that makes everything spiral out of control really quickly. I figured at least once the audience would choose the troll response, but no, you guys worked hard to keep Sailor and Calibani alive. You refused to let them hurt each other, refused to let them throw themselves into danger, refused to imperil them for your own chuckles. It was very sweet and unexpected.

I say "you refused" but to be fair it's not like NO ONE voted for the troll options - they generally got a handful of votes, just one that was beaten by a landslide of more reasonable options. Hopefully those of you who voted for the troll options enjoyed Bob throwing you a bone by disintegrating Dr. Warefore - that was my consolation prize to you.

Yes. I knew at the beginning that there would be two endings for this story: either Sailor leaves the Sea and goes home, or Sailor stays there forever. Or, you know, Sailor dies as a result of you guys choosing several stupid options in a row, but as stated above you guys avoided those scenarios pretty decisively.

Had Sailor gone home, the following would have occurred: first, they would forget everything that happened in the Sea of Monsters. Second, they would wake up in a hospital, having been found in the Atlantic Ocean by a human-recovery charity run by... oh, isn't that funny, some tech company named Spindle Inc! Spindle would foot the medical bills and even offer Sailor a job, but Sailor would decline because even now they're still not sure what Spindle even does. Sailor would go back to their life and find it familiar and utterly mundane, but not particularly happy. Their father died when they were 18, their mother was never in the picture, they have no siblings. They worked an office job and were sort of a nonentity - that position has long since been filled, but Sailor gets a new job and lives out much the same life: simple, mundane, dreary. Every now and then they get a pang of desire to leave, to go to sea, but they push it out of mind. They never even see the ocean again as long as they live.

Sailor would have gotten the normal life they thought they were supposed to have, the normal memories and name and identity, the mundane life of a normal person. And they just had to trade everything they found in the Sea of Monsters to get it. A question is answered, a direction is followed, but is it the right answer, the right direction?

Well, I think doubt would have remained.

I had a very vague idea for there to be some sort of man-eating giant in, like, a crystal castle. He got cut to make way for the mermaids.

I wanted to fit in a big whale and a giant crustacean, but there wasn't room or an interesting angle for me to want to make room for them. Saved for a possible sequel, I suppose.

I also wanted to have a scene with, like, DOZENS of sea monsters, including some of the ones from Offbeat Melody, but the goal of "this should be EASY you dumbass" made me kill that idea pretty quick.

Thank you!

The primary inspirations were:

The Odyssey and Epic: the Musical

The voyage of St. Brendan

The many "weird shit happens on an island" movies in Toho's filmography, i.e. Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster, Son of Godzilla, Yog Monster of the Deep, Matango, etc.

The Island of Dr. Moreau

The Boy and the Heron

Ponyo (specifically Ponyo's parents - I wanted Sailor to have the same desperate energy as that wizard who fucks the giant sea goddess)

The Life of Pi

Slay the Princess (perhaps most obvious in the use of second person narration, multiple voices in the protagonist's head, and falling in love with a creature that has tried to kill you at least once)

I'm going to use this to springboard to a related point in a second, but first a genuine yet humorous answer: Yes, absolutely yes, I am enough of a big romantic sap that I would give everything about my life away to be with a person who loves me and explore a world of monsters in a heartbeat. Hell, I would have jumped in the water the minute Calibani asked and died with her fangs in my neck and a smile on my face. I am dumb this way. Do not follow my example.

On that related point, though... Most stories like this, I daresay ALL stories like this that I know of, end with the hero abandoning the fantasy world in favor of reality, never to return. And that seems like the proper choice and lesson on the surface - we don't want to tell audiences to give up their real life in favor of a fantasy, after all. That's encouraging escapism, and that's not healthy!

But, like... textually speaking, the fantastical world IS real to the characters in these stories. And it's often not really an escape - was Sailor's life devoid of conflict and suffering in the Sea of Monsters? Fuck no! It's just that they figured out how to deal with that conflict and suffering - they built skills and a support system, they adapted, they learned how to overcome what was there.

I think it can be argued that sometimes the return to a "normal" world is, in itself, an escape - the idea that your life can spiral into chaos but that's ok, you can just reset everything and go back to The Way It Was and Should Be is just as unrealistic and unhealthy an idea as You Should Escape to A Better World. Sometimes your plans for your life fall apart, sometimes you're thrown into a place you never intended to go, sometimes you have to learn skills you never anticipated needing and ally with people you never thought you'd befriend to deal with problems you never dreamed you'd have to overcome. And sometimes it's ok to look at your derailed life, your Not Where You Should Be life, and say, "Well, I've learned how to live here... maybe I can stay."

Especially if there's a cute chubby sea monster girl who loves you.

Bob was never supposed to appear past chapter 7, but about halfway through that chapter I realized the audience and I myself would be heartbroken if we didn't rescue her. Definitely for the best - she provided some well-needed comic relief in the final chapters.

This is gonna sound snarky, but, yeah - there were 58 choices with four options a piece, and we only chose one of the four. While some of the options would have similar results, almost none would have had identical outcomes. And some would have been VERY different.

Like, to go back to the beginning: when Calibani attacked, we could either throw a net on her, harpoon her, try to drive around her, or hide below deck. We picked the net, but for the other three options:

Harpooning would result in us hitting her in the thigh, causing her enough pain that she collapses on our deck and we, horrified at the violence we committed, just sort of push on. Calibani would be wounded for at least the next chapter, perhaps longer, and significantly weaker (and probably harboring a great deal of hidden resentment while also being genuinely scared of Sailor). She would be vulnerable during the stork attack, forcing Sailor to take a more active role in that chapter.

Trying to steer around her would result in us essentially fighting her with our boat, resulting in the boat capsizing and Calibani getting tangled up in it. We'd wake up alone on Stork Island and have to travel in search of our boat, alone and vulnerable among man-eating trees. We'd run into Calibani again, also beached and in trouble, end up recruiting her to help us get our boat out of the sand.

Hiding below deck would end in a sea storm that leaves us inside our boat as it's beached on Stork Island. We'd fend off the storks alone, and run into Calibani once we get our boat out to sea, as she got away more or less unscathed.

All of these would have majorly changed the trajectory of our relationship with Calibani and our identity as Sailor, despite seeming to have the same component parts on the surface. Now account for how similarly slight changes in the other options could have gone, and we could have had a very different story indeed.

Part 8: Our Girl

I just think she's neat!

#At Sea Without a Map

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alpaca-clouds · 2 days ago

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Why do people struggle so much with understanding pacing?

Okay, let me talk about my pet peeve when it comes to writing in any medium. Pacing.

People, who know me for long, will know that this has been the thing I have been complaining about since I was like 12. And there is a good reason for it.

See, when I learned to write, there was this guy who I greatly admired as an author. And after bugging him for a while (look folks, the internet was a very different place from what it is now) he did give me some recommendations on books on writing. And a lot of them went deeply into his pet peeve, which - you guessed it - was pacing as well.

And thus, I learned early on about story structure, and pacing, and how to pace out a story in a way grips the audience. This material I read went onto different techniques for different mediums, into how different cultures had a different ways of dealing with this, and so on, and so forth.

Some of my main take aways were, that a lot of very long stories struggled massively with pacing, and that a ton of people also very miscalculated their ability to handle characters in terms of pacing - because characters and pacing are two things that are very, very heavily connected.

I also learned something else, though: That a lot of western writing advice did not understand anything about pacing outside of the idea that stories were supposed to have three acts - or maybe five - and ideally from a certain fateful day in the early 2000s on, would follow the "save the cat" formular. (Mind you, I do not hate "Save the Cat", however, this formular has been created for movies. It works at times somewhat well for books, too. But it definitely does not for for pretty much anything serialized, because that is not what it was developed for.)

And I also learned another thing: Most people do not understand pacing either, because pacing is not a thing that is ever taught in normal school (like most things that are about creative writing are not). So, while some people might have a gut feeling that the pacing of something might be off, they rarely can actually say why. And this is only worsened by the fact that today's tiktok addicted society is so used to consuming ultra condensed media, that they will perceive anything less condenses than 1 minute tiktok videos as "too slow and boring".

So, please allow me - the guy who kinda hyperfixated on this specific writing skill - to talk about pacing. And this will be in the following points:

What is pacing actually?

How do characters relate to pacing?

Pacing, Streaming and the supposed "filler episode".

Pacing and Fantasy

Pacing in Action vs anything else

Pacing in books vs visual media

What Is Pacing actually?

Okay, I think one of the main issues when it comes to understanding pacing is, that a lot of people see pacing on a on a spectrum that goes from "I am bored" to "I can't follow the plot anymore". But that actually does not always have to do with the pacing - obviously.

Technically pacing is the speed in which the plot moves. Or, to make it more quantifiable: "How many plot points (beats) are covered per either time (in any timed medium) or per page (in anything you read)". Which makes sense at the first glance - but does actually often not line up with the subjective perception of this. Becau se here is the thing: No, fight scenes are not automatically fast paces. A lot of modern action movies have super slow paced - in terms of story pacing - action scenes. Because yes, during those action sequences a lot of STUFF happens, but nothing of it actually is in any way related to the plot.

Look, I freaking adore the Fast & Furious movies. But you could literally edit those movies down to like 45 minutes each and not lose a single plot beat. But of course, nobody would watch those movies - because yes, me and everyone else who adored those movies, is there to watch them lunch cars into space and see stuff blow up. I don't much care about the characters or the plot.

This is by the way also the kinda point that me and other people talk about, when we are unimpressed by "oh, but sex scenes don't add anything to the plot", while the same people would often not make the same argument about action scenes - even though there is a ton of movies and shows where the action scenes really do not add anything to the plot. A lot of people just do not perceive action sequences as slow pacing, because even if nothing that happens on the screen actually adds anything to the plot or moves it forward, it is undeniable, that STUFF is happening. So basically monkey brain will go: "Hehe, things go boom!"

Don't get me wrong: there absolutely are stories in which the action is moving the plot. Mad Max Fury Road is a great example. The movie is also about 60% action - but the action scenes actually add to the plot.

Meanwhile nothing tells you as much about how unimportant some of the MCU action scenes are, than the fact, that they are often done by a completely different team and will be done apart from the rest of the movie.

But yes, traditionally the idea was, that towards the "finale" of a piece of media, a lot more plot beats would happen over a shorter amount of time. You will see that also in a lot of beat sheets. There are more beats that need to happen in the third act of a story - if we go by three act structure. And often there is actually even more plot developments, as usually in a finale all the "plotlines" will kinda finish up in the end. So even plotlines where not a lot has happened to this point - this shows especially in serialized works both in TV shows and stuff like manga or comics - the important plot points will then often happen close to the finale, because it feels more "right".

In older serialized media - especially TV shows prior to streaming - you also had the same thing hold true towards the finale of a "story arc". In a lot of older shows, you would usually see a structure that looked like this.

The "rise" here technically has less to do with more stuff happening in later arcs or seasons - and more with the threat-level rising, and the convulutedness of a story. lol

But yeah, the take-away from this part should be: No, action does not equal fast pacing. There can be action-heavy shows with super slow narrative pacing - but it will to many not feel this way, because at least action is interesting to watch. Which also might be an explanation to why people are a lot worse in seeing the issue with action-scenes that are not adding anything in visual media, but might actually notice it in written stories. Because in books action scenes do not feel "fast paced" in the same way they feel in movies, where the often faster editing and the amount of motion on screen will create this effect.

Oh, and on the other side: Of course there can be slow paced plots that will leave you having problems following. At times, because they are badly written (aka: the media does not give you all the information you need) - and at times, because a piece of media might expect you to know a certain bit of information that you do not know. I can definitely think of a variety of scifi media, that just expects you to know stuff about computer stuff or space, and will not explain it to you. Which might make you need longer time to take plot developments in, and then leaves you reeling.

Another thing however that is also important is: If the pacing stays actually the same throughout a piece of media - rather than accelarating towards the finale (or finales if there are multiple) - it actually will feel wrong in some way. Often people (even I, who hyperfixates on this specific thing) struggle to point at it at first. But yes, this very much is an issue that also can happen. You want the pacing to accelerate towards certain points in the plot - and then slow down. If you had an important point, you want a few slower scenes/episodes/chapters afterwards, to allow the audience to somewhat absorb all the new things you presented them with.

How do characters relate to pacing?

Alright, now we come to the dicey part - specifically, because a lot of people (which includes narratologists, creative writing professors, and people professionally writing) actually kinda do not fully agree on this. So, fair warning: This is how I think.

A character arc in many cases absolutely is a part of the plot. Most media we consume these days are character driven, so the characters are absolutely centrally connected to the plot and the plot mainly exists to have the character move from point A to point B. Or, to make it more basic: To have a character realize that their WANT is not their NEED.

Sure, those characters will usually also accomplish something plot-related. But them accomplishing them is more often than not heavily connected to them fulfilling their character arc. (Please note: characters having a want but having to realize a need is something that is core of western storytelling. However, given that it makes for interesting character arcs, a lot of Asian media these days also will use this as a central driver for character development.)

In some pieces of media, the character arcs are way more heavily tied into the beats of the main plot, than in other. In adventure, action, and related a lot of fantasy and scifi, there is most of the time a character arc happening parallel to the main plot beats. Meanwhile often enough in more down to earth drama and romance, plot beats and character development beats are heavily interwoven. This is not a hard and fast rule - there absolutely is fantasy where the character arc is the plot arc, just as there is romance where the development does not play as heavily into the main plot - but you can generally observe it.

However, no matter how strongly the character development beats line up with plot beats, you cannot deny one thing: character beats are beats that also add to the pacing - even if they technically do not move the main plot forward. So, for example, if you have an episode in a show or a chapter in a book, where important beats happens in terms of a characters development (for example: they realize something important about themselves), this does not necessarily slow the pacing down - even if no actual plot beats happen.

What the fuck is a plot beat? What is a character beat?

This part of the essay was originally not included, but the people reading over it said I should include this.

If we say, that Pacing is basically the description of "Plot Beats per Time" or rather "Plot Beats and/or Character Beats per Time", then we also need to say, what exactly a Plot Beat is. I will fully admit, that this is one of those things in which I forget that this is not a thing taught in school.

I mentioned "Save the Cat" before. "Save the Cat" is a book about writing movies and specifically about pacing out a movie in a way that it is captivating. It mainly focuses on action, but you can absolutely use it for most other genres. And this comes with a so called "beat sheet", a collection of the main story beats that happen, showing when they are going to happen. It looks like this:

Basically a Beat is a scene, in which the plot (or a character arc) is moved forward by a bit. Basically anything that reveals something to the main characters, anything where the basic assumptions about the plot change, anything like that.

Examples for Plot Beats would be:

Character learns about something going on

Characters find out something important about the plot

Someone (either protagonist or antagonist) gets killed or injured

Characters get a new power or item that is important to the plot

Romance goes forward or a reason for the romance to happen is found

Characters find a hint for something they want to reach

And examples of Character Beats would be:

Character learns something about themselves

Character makes a decision for themselves

Characters realizes feelings about something or someone

Character overcomes trauma

And mind you, because I cannot fit this anywhere else: If you read these you might realize, why Musicals are basically a cheat for very fast pacing. Because you can put an entire character arc into a 4 minute song. This is why musical animated shows like Steven Universe or My Little Pony managed to pull some insanely paced episodes, like the Empire City episodes for SU, and the episode in which the Cutie Mark Crusaders finally got their Cutie Marks. Musicals are insane when it comes to this.

And something that you have to realize: While for movies and books certain Beat Sheets (Save the Cat is not the only one) work rather well, those Beat Sheets usually do not work well for Shows. And currently we are living in a time, where this becomes very noticable - because a lot of modern shows are written and aired as basically 4-8 hour movies, using often just the "Save the Cat" beat sheet (if you have read Save the Cat, you will see it EVERYWHERE, because it is so frequently used in western media), but... obviously, Save the Cat is made for something that has 2 hours, and as such a lot of modern media feels strangely slow and stretched out.

Pacing, Streaming, and the supposed "filler episode"

(Yes, this needed to be the gif for this. Because no filler episode has lodged itself quite as strong into my brain as this one.)

So, let me talk about the issue in modern media. Because oh boy.

As I said: I hyperfixated on this specific writing skill forever - and as such I was annoyed by "filler episodes" in TV shows. To explain for the youngest people (not that I am assuming a lot of those are on this hellsite lol): "Filler" was the name given to material that did not move the plot forward at all. So a "filler episode" was an episode, that was just there to fill the episode slot for the week, while no plot was happening. I am not fully sure whether the term originated with anime - but at least back in the early 2000s, before Shonen-Anime were done as 12-26 seasons that then allowed the manga to get ahead in between, "filler" was also the name used for those story arcs that the anime people made up for shows like Naruto, One Piece or Dragonball, that were not in the manga - and hence obviously also never added to any overarching narrative.

And what can I say: We did not appreciate the filler episode enough. Because this related very much to the last part: While filler episodes did indeed not add to the plot and usually by definition did not the character development, they actually still added something often enough.

They allowed the audience to get to know the characters a bit better and get a better feeling for the character relationships - and those episodes take out a bit of speed, which is actually important.

As said before: The pacing should not be even throughout an entire piece of media. In a TV series after an episode that was especially tense and pushed the plot or characters forward a lot, there should be ideally at least one or two episodes that move forward slower or even not at all. This allows the viewer to sit with the new developments for a bit - and of course the characters to have a moment to breathe and process whatever happened to them.

There is also the fact that those episodes usually give the audience a better understanding for the characters - and if you have an audience who at this point ideally care about some the characters, this will even be more successful.

And as I said. Back in ye olden days, a lot of people - me included - complained so much about Filler. But we were wrong. Fillers are amazing, as long as they do not overtake the whole show.

Pacing and Fantasy

Okay, let's talk about a thing, that is somewhat funny. A lot of fantasy - specifically written fantasy media - often has a pacing problem. And this problem comes from the Worldbuilding. Others forms of fantasy media (other than games - though pacing in games is whole different matter) have this too at times, but it tends to be worst in books.

Basically, when you are a fantasy worldbuilder, you have this whole world. And this leaves you with two problems.

a) You are afraid that people will not be able to follow the plot if you not give them a lot of information about this world and how it differs from ours.

b) Well, you build this entire world. And the people should KNOW.

So, a lot of fantasy media basically regularly will stop to explain to the reader or audience, whatever is happening right now. Some writers manage somewhat naturally put this in. Maybe they have a character that does not know a lot about for example magic or dragons, and they can ask questions and act as an audience stand-in. But even in cases, where the worldbuilding is somewhat brought in naturally (which by far is not all of them - because people usually do not naturally talk about stuff they both know, or think a lot about something they find naturally) those "explanation" pieces will make the plot come to a screeching halt.

So, the more worldbuilding you explain, the slower your pacing is.

And of course, pacing is not a reliable thing to keep people reading, and pacing will not always turn people off. But you know how people complain about how slow Lord of the Rings is? This is because of course, every time that Tolkien describes a piece of landscape over multiple pages, there is no plot happening on those pages. And while I personally think some of those descriptions are darn stunning, it is one of those things many people will not like.

However, this makes it a bit complicated. Because yes, worldbuilding explanations will slow down the pacing to a degree that can be problematic. But if you explain too little worldbuilding, people might struggle to follow the story. Which again is the most common problem if the pacing is "too fast" as well. Basically, people do not properly follow the plot and will struggle to understand what is happening and why.

But the opposite is true as well. I have read way too many fantasy books, where after the first 100 pages, I know a lot about the city the plot is set in, or about the magic system, but sadly have so far not been privy to any information what the plot is about, what the characters try to archive, or even who actually the characters are. And that, yeah... Is probably the most common reason why I put aside a variety of fantasy books in the past.

Pacing in Action-media vs anything else

Okay, let me talk about one other thing. See, the word "pacing" is at times used in some other context: In visual media, pacing will be used for the editing of what we see. Basically the amount of cuts that happen within a scene. Or, in a comic, the distribution of panels is also seen as a pacing element.

And anyone who heard people complain about how at times confusing the editing in action movies is, you know that this at times can get too much.

Still, in visual media action scenes feel usually fast - because the characters are moving around rather fast. In a visual piece of media, action scenes are often thrilling, because the characters are in constant danger of dying, and because a lot of stuff is happening. This often works better in visual media, than in written pieces. While it absolutely is possible to write thrilling action scenes, a lot of writers struggle with this, because they tend to overdescribe and that takes the speed out of the prose. But generally speaking, a couple of punches thrown - something that in a movie takes about 10 seconds - will in book easily end up in 200-500 words, which you will not read quite as fast. A bit more about that later.

And then there is the issue with the action scenes, that even is true for visual medial, is that they often really do not have any important plotbeats. Sure, if the characters have their final battle, that is a plot point. But in a lot of action media - especially TV shows - there are a lot of scenes included that really do not add anything, but just are there because folks love watching action scenes.

This goes so far, that people will think a show or movie with a lot of action scene will just be seen as "good fast pacing", even though if the actual pacing in terms of plot beats being spaced out is rather bad. As a good example I will once more nod at the Fast & Furious and the Mission Impossible movies, that often have horrid pacing and very confusing plots - but they do not feel really like it, because the movies are like 60% action scenes, and hence they do not feel like it when you watch them.

It can work at times. I spoke about my love of the F&F movies. Can I tell you a lot of the characters? Nope, but the action scenes are fun to watch!

But this also tends to mean, that in a badly paced movie or show, that is badly paced because the action scenes not adding any plot beats, everything tends to fall apart when the action scenes do not work. And often enough action scenes will still be prioritized over everything else in many of those pieces of media, making things fall apart easily.

Pacing in books vs visual media

I have hinted at this now multiple times: Written media is generally a bit harder to pace than visual media, because of the things you can and cannot control. While a writer in a book has full control over the scenario, a director of a show or movie had actually influence the timeflow of the things happening on screen. As a writer meanwhile you absolutely have no influence on the speed in which your reader will read.

Sure, you can somewhat influence it. Shorter sentences are easier read. An general lower reading level will allow people to read quicker. So simpler words, shorter words, shorter sentences will make parts appear quicker. You can use this for example in action scenes to have a bit more of this breathless feeling that an action scene on screen might have. Use short sentences. Do not link sentences up. Quick hits. Quick impressions. It can work - but it needs some training. Not to say it is fucking hard.

Generally speaking to my experience when you write a single novel, the "Save the Cat" Beat Sheet actually works rather well, if you are the kind of writer who is fairly good at planning things out. If I actually try, I will usually manage to plan out a story and predict fairly well how many words a chapter will have. So yes, for books I can very much use "Save the Cat" and it will work.

However, some things simply work a lot better when you have visual parts going on - but there are other things you can do better when you do not have the visual stuff. For example: A writer can do much more when it comes to motivation and introspection of characters. Yes, this slows down the pacing - but it is something that writing has basically over any form of media that is not a musical. (In a Musical you can characters do introspection through songs. Musicals are the ultimate way of cheating. I love them!)

Something I feel so many writers struggle with in terms of books is actually putting in a clear goal for the character from the beginning. Again: I have put too many books aside where I reached page 100 and did not yet have any goal for the main character.

That goal you give them does not necessarily need to be their final goal. Again: A lot of western storytelling deals with the incongruent nature of a characters "needs" (aka something that would actually help them) with the character's "wants" (aka what they think they would need). But at the very least the plot needs something that it can head towards from the very beginning - a hook to capture the reader.

There might be readers that are absolutely fine with just reading an exercise in worldbuilding - but you cannot expect them to be.

#writing advice #writing #media criticism #fandom meta #media analysis #writing community #writing tips #writing resources #pacing #storytelling #narrative #story structure #streaming #long post

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anna-bonnie · 2 days ago

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Sonic 4 movie. Theories and predictions

Hello everyone! I finally watched Sonic 3, and I can confidently say it was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had in a movie theater! It had been such a long time since I felt so much emotion and joy watching a film. The last time I experienced these feelings was with Michael Bay’s Transformers movies, especially the fourth and fifth installments. Just like back then, when I was super excited for the next movie, I now have the same anticipation for the fourth Sonic movie.

In the post-credits scene, we saw the first appearances of Metal Sonic and Amy, which already gives us a taste of the continuation of the Sonic live-action franchise. That’s why I’d like to share my theory about what might happen in the next movie and which game from the Sonic saga it might adapt.

AND... Just as Sonic 1 was an adaptation of the first classic game, Sonic 2 represented the second game, and Sonic 3 was based on Sonic Adventure 2, I believe the fourth movie will also follow this adaptation formula.

My idea is that the fourth movie will be inspired by two games: Sonic CD, where Metal Sonic makes his first appearance, and Sonic Heroes, where Metal Sonic becomes the main antagonist. In Heroes, he evolves into Neo Metal Sonic and later into Metal Overlord, the final boss. I believe the concept of time travel, central to Sonic CD, could be key to the plot of the next movie.

Now, let’s dive into the possible plot of the fourth movie and how the story might unfold.

Probably, Metal Sonic came from the future and returned to the past with the goal of defeating Sonic, driven by frustration at never being able to defeat him definitively. In turn, future Amy, upon discovering Metal Sonic’s plan, decides to also travel to the past to protect him. This could explain the post-credits scene where we see Amy hooded.

This raises some important questions: How did Amy know where Sonic would be, and how did she know who he was? The most logical answer would be that, in the future, Sonic and Amy eventually meet, and she decides to go back in time to save him. Another key point of the potential plot would be the origin of Metal Sonic. After all, who created him, considering that Dr. Eggman died in the ARK explosion in the third movie? While Shadow survived because he’s practically immortal, Eggman is just a regular human, making it extremely unlikely that he escaped.

With that in mind, here are some possibilities regarding Metal Sonic’s creation:

Agent Stone as the Creator:

Stone, loyal to Dr. Eggman, could create Metal Sonic as a way to avenge his mentor’s death. This would continue Stone’s arc, showing how he seeks to keep Eggman’s legacy alive.

G.U.N. and Director Rockwell:

Another possibility is that Director Rockwell, who showed distrust toward Sonic and his team, decides to create Metal Sonic. After the events of the third movie, where the planet was nearly destroyed, she might use Metal Sonic as a weapon to eliminate Sonic, believing that he and his team are too uncontrolled.

Eggman as the Original Creator:

There’s also the possibility that Dr. Eggman created Metal Sonic a long time ago, perhaps after returning to Earth at the beginning of the second movie. However, due to the humiliation he suffered when defeated by Super Sonic, he might have abandoned the use of Metal Sonic and kept the project stored along with other copies. These copies could have been activated later, continuing the storyline.

Any of these options could fit well into the fourth movie’s plot, depending on how the writers choose to proceed with the narrative.

Even though the three movies so far have adapted elements from the game franchise—two from the classics and one from the modern games—they contain many original elements. For example, Sonic’s origin was adapted for the movie, and the story takes place on Earth, not on his home island or planet of origin. Additionally, the Master Emerald wasn’t found on Angel Island but on Earth, and Shadow didn’t live on the ARK in space but also on Earth. So, it’s likely that the fourth movie will also introduce original elements while incorporating important aspects inspired by Sonic CD and Sonic Heroes.

Now, here’s my idea of how the fourth movie’s plot could unfold:

Just like in the second and third movies, Amy could appear after the movie starts, similar to how Tails was introduced in the second movie and Shadow in the third. The movie would likely begin with an introduction to Sonic and his team.

After the boys (Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles) decide to organize another friendly race, Sonic gets too far ahead and ends up in New York City. This becomes even more confusing due to the time difference since he, Knuckles, and Tails live on the other side of the United States with Tom and Maddie. It’s at this point that Metal Sonic and Amy enter, as hinted at in the post-credits scenes.

After Sonic is attacked by Metal Sonic and saved by Amy, he’s full of questions. He wants to know who she is, how she knows his name, and how she knew where to find him. His questions are similar to those he asked Knuckles and Tails when he met them. Amy then explains that she came from the future to help him defeat Metal Sonic once and for all.

With no other choice, Sonic decides to take Amy home. There, he introduces her to the rest of the team, and they begin discussing what’s happening. Amy explains that she came from the future to warn him about Metal Sonic and save him. She details Metal Sonic’s origin, explaining that he’s after Sonic to defeat him once and for all since he couldn’t win in the future. That’s why she followed him to the past, both to warn Sonic and help him in his mission.

With this information, Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Amy decide to form a team to face Metal Sonic. However, upon realizing that their enemy is extremely powerful, Sonic concludes that the only way to defeat him is by using the Master Emerald again to transform into his Super form and destroy him once and for all.

However, there’s a problem: at the end of the last movie, Sonic 3, Sonic lost his Super form while preventing a global catastrophe. During that moment, Shadow was also in his Super form but stayed behind after the final explosion. This caused the Chaos Emeralds to scatter across Earth due to the impact. Now, Team Sonic must gather the Emeralds again to have any chance against Metal Sonic.

Meanwhile, G.U.N. also steps in. After the events of the third movie, the organization begins questioning how Sonic and Shadow were able to prevent such a large-scale catastrophe. They eventually discover the existence of the Chaos Emeralds and, upon understanding their immense power, decide to locate them to keep them "safe." After all, the Master Emerald is seen as an extremely dangerous weapon, capable of turning a person into something close to a god.

This is where Rouge enters the story. As a G.U.N. spy, she’s sent to locate the Chaos Emeralds before Team Sonic. This sets up a race between both sides: Team Sonic needs the Emeralds to save the world and defeat Metal Sonic, while G.U.N. wants to capture them to prevent them from falling into the wrong hands (even though, for Sonic, that includes themselves).

This intense competition between Sonic and his team against G.U.N. adds a layer of tension and urgency to the film, especially since both sides have legitimate motivations for wanting the Emeralds. However, G.U.N.’s belief that Team Sonic isn’t trustworthy might spark conflicts and tense moments between them.

During this race to recover the Chaos Emeralds, Metal Sonic comes into play. He ends up encountering both sides—Team Sonic and G.U.N.—leading to a major battle among everyone, adding more tension to the plot. At this point, Shadow, who still holds a grudge against G.U.N. for what they did to Maria, temporarily joins Team Sonic. His main motivation is to prevent G.U.N. from keeping the Chaos Emeralds, as he believes the organization doesn’t deserve that power.

Since Shadow has a direct connection to Chaos energy, similar to what we saw in Sonic Heroes, Metal Sonic manages to obtain one of Shadow’s quills. He uses the power contained in it to amplify his abilities and eventually evolves into Neo Metal Sonic. By combining Shadow’s power with the Chaos Emeralds, Metal Sonic reaches his final form: Metal Overlord, the final boss in Sonic Heroes.

However, before this happens, G.U.N. manages to capture the Chaos Emeralds, putting them temporarily ahead in the race. At this moment, Rouge, true to her nature as a jewel thief, betrays G.U.N. She steals the Emeralds, but her escape doesn’t go as planned. She soon realizes the situation becomes critical when Metal Sonic, now more powerful, begins transforming into his primitive forms, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Seeing no other choice and recognizing that Team Sonic is the only hope to defeat Metal Sonic, Rouge hands over the Chaos Emeralds to them. With the Emeralds in hand, Team Sonic activates the Master Emerald’s power, allowing Sonic to once again transform into his Super form. With this power, Sonic faces Metal Overlord in an epic final battle.

Shadow’s role at this moment remains uncertain. He might join Sonic in his Super form, as he did at the end of Sonic Adventure 2 and Sonic Heroes, or he might choose not to intervene directly. Regardless, this battle serves as a major climax for the film, bringing both classic and original elements to the story.

Although the previous films have adapted elements from the games, they’ve also added their own unique ideas, and it’s likely the fourth film will follow the same trend. The movie universe, after all, is separate from the games’ universe, giving the writers creative freedom to develop new stories and explore different dynamics between the characters.

Regarding Shadow’s presence in the fourth film, I believe he’ll play a key role, as his connection to Chaos energy is crucial for Metal Sonic’s transformation into Metal Overlord. Shadow’s involvement would also be an opportunity to further explore his relationship with his past and G.U.N., as well as strengthen the dynamics within the movie universe.

Introducing Rouge, hired by G.U.N. to steal the Chaos Emeralds, would be an excellent way to bring the character into the cinematic universe. This initial role, where she infiltrates as a spy and later betrays G.U.N., demonstrates her cunning and independence while establishing her motivations. By the end of the movie, Rouge could team up with Shadow and Agent Stone to form the famous Team Dark, opening doors for future storylines.

As for Omega, his introduction would be a bit more complicated. However, one possibility could be Agent Stone reactivating one of Dr. Eggman’s old robots, as Omega was originally created by Eggman to serve as a guardian and companion. This idea would fit well with the theme of reclaiming Eggman’s legacy in the movie, but his presence would need to be carefully balanced to avoid overwhelming the story.

Introducing too many characters in the fourth movie could be a challenge. While it’s exciting to expand the cast, it’s essential to keep the story’s main focus: the showdown between Metal Sonic and Sonic. In the first three movies, new characters were introduced in a balanced way, always keeping Sonic at the center. This balance ensured that Sonic’s protagonism remained intact, even with the addition of significant figures like Tails, Knuckles, and Shadow.

Therefore, while Rouge and Shadow’s presence seems essential, adding more characters like Omega could be challenging without diverting attention from the main plot. It’s important that the movie continues to highlight Sonic as the main hero, ensuring that new additions complement the story rather than overwhelm it.

The dynamic between Sonic and Amy in the fourth movie could indeed follow a friendship and camaraderie approach, similar to what we saw in the Super Mario Bros. animated movie. Just as they portrayed Princess Peach as a strong and independent warrior alongside Mario, Amy could be presented as a powerful and strategically important ally, without forcing a romantic relationship between her and Sonic.

Although Amy is traditionally Sonic’s romantic partner in the games and series, SEGA has already clarified that their relationship isn’t canon. This decision reinforces the creative freedom to adapt the character in the cinematic universe while maintaining the individuality of both characters. Sonic, with his adventurous and carefree personality, would hardly fit into a romantic role in the movies, as it could shift focus from his journey as the protagonist.

In the movie, Amy could be presented as someone who shares the same goals as Sonic, fighting alongside him and his team against threats like Metal Sonic. The post-credits scene of the third movie already gave us a glimpse of her combat skills and confidence, highlighting her iconic hammer as her weapon. This suggests her presence in the fourth movie will be more as a warrior and strategic ally rather than a character dependent on Sonic or hopelessly in love with him.

This approach also creates a more modern and inclusive dynamic for the audience, showing that a female character can be equally strong and independent without being defined by a romantic relationship. A deep friendship and mutual respect between Sonic and Amy could strengthen the development of both characters while maintaining the adventurous and lighthearted tone that characterizes the franchise.

Finally, let’s talk about the possible post-credits scenes of the fourth movie, which always leave clues for the next chapter in the franchise. Since it’s been confirmed that the fourth movie won’t be the last—the idea is to create a quintology (five movies) and not a sextology—it’s very likely that the post-credits scenes of the fourth movie will introduce a new character or hint at the plot of the next movie.

One of the strongest speculations among fans is the possible appearance of Silver the Hedgehog in the post-credits scenes. This would make perfect sense since Silver is a central character in the Sonic the Hedgehog 2006 game, whose storyline revolves around time travel. Just as Amy and Metal Sonic are essential to the plot of the fourth movie, introducing Silver in the post-credits scenes would be the perfect bridge to address the plot of Sonic 2006 in the fifth movie.

Silver could appear from the future, on a mission to alter past events to save the chaotic future he came from. His arrival would bring new dynamics to the story and expand the Sonic cinematic universe, exploring themes like fighting to change destiny and the challenges of time travel.

However, I prefer not to delve into theories for the fifth movie just yet, as the fourth movie hasn’t even been released. I think it’s better to wait for the official release of the fourth movie to understand the clues they’ll leave behind and then develop more solid theories about what to expect in the fifth film.

And that’s it, everyone! This is my theory for the fourth Sonic movie. I know some ideas might seem a bit out of the box, but as we’ve seen in the first three movies, they don’t exactly follow the stories from the games. There are many original additions and changes to fit the Sonic universe into the cinematic narrative, and I believe the same will happen in the next film.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for reading my theory! Now I’d like to know your opinion: what do you think might happen in the fourth movie? Share your ideas, and let’s keep this conversation going! :)

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie universe #sonic movie spoilers #sonic movie 4 #shadow #shadow the hedgehog #rouge #rouge the bat #agent stone #amy rose #silver #silver the hedgehog #sonic theory

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portraitofalinkonfyre · 21 hours ago

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12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 9: Mistletoe

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Notes: This is probably my second favorite piece (the Wind one is 1st lol) in this event!

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Previous Day | Next Day

You knew something was up as soon as you noticed Wind hanging that blasted plant above the stable entrance on Lon Lon Ranch.

The notion that Hyrule, of all places, was also blessed with the demented gift that was mistletoe was a strange one, but you chalked it up to fate or, perhaps, some form of karmic retribution for all the times you had stepped to avoid the accursed fungus-shrub.

"Hey, bud, what'cha got there?" you feigned curiosity, glancing up at the plant with a befuddled expression. Wind placed his hands on his hips, grinning proudly, and you supposed he deserved it, because the arch was nearly three times his height and not even you and your totally jacked body could manage that alone.

"It's called mistletoe!" the Sailor proclaimed. "Warriors told me to hang it up! For the holidays!"

"Is that so?" you mused, though your mind was anything but quiet. What the heck, Warriors? "Is Time okay with this?"

"I showed him and Malon and they just giggled," the youngest hero explained with a shrug, and you were eternally grateful he didn't know the true meaning behind the plant.

"Well, I think it looks great," you smiled, patting him on the head. "Very sophisticated."

Wind's eyes sparkled. "You think so?"

"So do I," a new voice joined the conversation, heralded by the crunch of boots against gravel, and you leveled Warriors with the flattest look you could muster, though it only seemed to encourage the shit-eating grin the Captain currently sported. His gaze flicked to the arch where the mistletoe hung. "Wow, I couldn't have done it better myself, Sailor."

If Wind had a tail, you were positive it would be wagging. He turned his gaze to you, expression pleading. "Can we hang some in the house too?"

"I don't see why not," you acquiesced, the corners of your lips ticking up when the youngest hero beamed, turning tail and sprinting to the house before you could get another word out, which provided the perfect opportunity to fix Warriors with another look. "You're a terrible influence, you know that?"

And, like the bastard he was, the Captain only grinned. "Says the person who just gave him permission to deck the halls."

Fuck, that was actually good. How appalling. You rolled your eyes. "Case and point, you little shit."

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Warriors placed his elbow against the wooden plank of the arch, hip cocked in a position that you guessed was supposed to be some flavor of enticing. "You love me," he said, smooth as silk, dangerous as a viper.

"Don't flatter yourself," you crossed your arms over your chest with a borderline glare. This wasn't the first time he had pulled the moves on you, and it wouldn't be the last, consider how, with each teasing rejection, he only seemed more persistent in getting you to crack. Consensually, of course, but your point stood. "I'd sooner kiss a cuckoo, I'll have you know."

It was when Warriors' grin turned sharp and he treated you to the most Hylia-awful wink that you realized the error of that particular quip. "Who said anything about kissing?" oh god, oh fuck. "But since you're obviously in need–"

"Nope, nope, there are children and innocent farm animals around," you cut him off before the situation could get any more maddening than it already was. You placed a hand by your ear, mentally preparing for the mental anguish that was adding to this bullshit. "Oh my Hylia, I think I hear Sky calling me!"

But Warriors was not so easily defeated. "...Have I ever told you how much I love your perfect bullshitting–"

"Oh no, he's definitely calling me!" you exclaimed, already beginning to powerwalk towards the house. "I'm literally so wanted right now!"

"By the Royal Guard," came his deadpan response, and you had to pause to come to terms with the fact that he had actually passed on an opportunity to make a bad joke.

Hands on your hips, you faced him once more. If anything, you were almost offended. "Why?"

Warriors pushed himself off the plank, grin returning with a passion. "Because you're under arrest," he stepped closer, until the two of you were nary a foot apart.

You bit your lip. "Do I dare ask why?"

"For," he paused, likely for comedic effect, and you said your prayers. "Stealing my heart."

You blinked once. Then twice. "...You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"You're smiling."

Fuck, you were. To remedy this horrible slip-up, you did the only correct thing and slapped a hand over your mouth like it would fix all your problems. "Nope, I'm not."

"Yessss."

"Noooo."

There was silence. It didn't last long.

The Captain's expression shifted to what could only be described as a pout, which was such a bizarre look that you had to physically hold yourself back from letting loose in front of the poor man. "You're mean."

You were unmoved. "And you're an asshole."

Phew, perfect deflection; you were obviously a master at this.

"Actually, I'm Link–"

"Fuck no," you hissed as your tolerance for bad humor reached its daily limit, just as Warriors' shoulders began to shake as his laughter made itself known, the lovable asshole. "Go harass Legend. He's actually into that."

"Wow, tough crowd," the Captain held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Good," unsympathetically, you paused, your mind reminding you of a certain set of recent grievances against him. "And stop sneaking up on me! Someone ought to put a bell on you."

–Until you froze, realizing your mistake as soon as the words fell from your mouth.

Warriors grin was diabolical.

It happened the next morning.

You were in the stable, helping Twilight lug a large shipment of hay to a place that wasn't in the middle of the floor. A sneeze escaped you, nose beyond red from the rather maddening overabundance of dust swirling in the dry air.

"Bless ya, darlin'," the Rancher said, tossing another bale over his bare shoulder, his arms and chest flexing to accommodate its weight. You rubbed your nose, glancing over with mild jealousy; you knew they were all fit, but this was getting ridiculous. "Yer lookin' a bit red, sure ya don't need a break?"

"Thanks, but I'm fine, Twi," you waved him off, not unkindly, and paced to the steadily-shrinking pile of bales. You grabbed one by the chord and grunted. Fuck, these were heavy! You stole a baleful (ha ha) glance in the Rancher's direction. "Nothing? Seriously? Save some seasonal imperviousness for the rest of us, Rancher!"

Twilight laughed, unaffected nose wrinkling in an expression of mirth. You half-heartedly wondered if shoving his face into one of the bales would change that. "No need ta get salty, darl'," he chortled, and your budding scowl deepened. Fucking ranchhand. "Happens ta the best o' us."

"Says you," you huffed, suddenly glad for the tunic you'd been forced to retain by society and a need to keep Warriors' jokes at bay. A glance was spared outside the barn, and you sighed. "Man, I can't believe there's supposed to be snow outside."

Twilight's ears perked up. "Ya don't say?"

"No, I'm serious," you defended, tossing the bale into the appropriate corner. "Back home, we're practically drowning, but here, it's like summer never left."

A soft chuckle left the Rancher's mouth. He grabbed another bale. You considered praying for bigger biceps for the holidays. "An' yer complaining?"

"Yes," you grunted, the thought of removing your shirt becoming more and more appealing. Hylia, you'd seen Wild in all his naked glory before–accidentally, of course–and Four had an annoying habit of removing his tunic to 'concentrate', so you were sure whatever you did would pale in comparison to the shenanigans they employed. "It's fucking hot in here."

"Really? Ah didn't notice–"

"One more word and it'll be your last, Rancher," you warned, and he appropriately shut up. Must be that dog in him. You fiddled with the hem of your tunic. "You mind if I take this off? I think I might pass out."

Twilight paused, looking contemplative before he nodded, shooting you a kind smile. "Go right ahead, darlin', ah don't mind."

"You're a saint, Twilight," you breathed, pulling the offending garment over your head, leaving you in nothing but a tank-top-esque garment that began just under your ribs, a pair of trousers, and your boots. Almost immediately, a breeze whistled through the barn doors, and you nearly groaned when cool air hit the exposed skin of your stomach and arms. It felt heavenly, you thought as you tied the tunic around your waist, ready to continue. Until you turned around, froze, and realized Twilight had snagged the last two bales, regarding you with a smile that was nothing if not smug.

"Looking fer somethin'?" The bastard had the decency to ask, though it was kind of ruined with that grin of his.

"Really?" you deadpanned, realizing that you had just been played. "I take everything back, you're a menace."

"Ah'm glad ya realized," said Twilight in what was quite possibly the most self-satisfied tone you'd heard in your life.

"Fuck off," you hissed, wholly unimpressed. "Where's a pitchfork when you need it?"

Warriors was waiting under the arch when you were finally relieved of bale duty, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, feet tilted upwards in a position that made you want to simultaneously roll your eyes and strike up a conversation.

"Hey," you called, drawing closer. The Captain blinked, ears perking as he was torn from whatever world he had been lost inside. He too was shirtless, skin slightly shiny from the heat, but you didn't know that. You weren't looking. Obviously. "Didn't the army teach you it's a bad idea to sleep in the sun?"

"Hm? But you just got here," was his response, punctuated by a famously terrible wink, and you felt your will to live crumble a bit more.

"What was that?" you placed both hands behind your ears. "Did you hear that? I could have sworn I heard someone talking to me."

"Har, har," Warriors pushed off the wall, standing to his full heSight. Like Twilight, he was shirtless. Unlike Twilight, you found yourself stealing glances for a completely different reason than muscle jealousy. While his smile never faltered, only a fool would miss the newer, sharper glint in his eyes. "You're quite sassy for the person under the mistletoe."

Fuck.

You glanced up to confirm that the blasted plant was still there.

Double fuck.

"So are you," you shot back before you could stop yourself. "Suck it, Wars."

A snort left the Captain's lips. He was getting closer, nary a few feet away, and you became distinctly aware of the fact that your tunic was still tied around your waist. "...Do you really want to hear my answer to that?"

You grimaced, but it wasn't from disgust. Far from it, actually. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to choose my mental health on this one."

A gasp. "What??"

You couldn't hold back a delighted giggle at the betrayed expression on Warriors' face.

"I'm wounded, mortally," the Captain continued, sparing no expense in being as dramatic as possible. He was practically on the verge of laying a hand on his forehead and reenacting select maidens from the novels you just knew he had stashed in his pack. "To think that you would cast me aside so cruelly... for sanity! For shame!"

"Oh, please," you snorted. The mistletoe dangled above. "The only thing I should be apologizing for is not doing it sooner."

"Oh, my heart..."

Again, you snorted. Not again, you wondered how bad kissing him would be. "Hylia knows you've got dozens more, hero."

Cerulean eyes turned to you. A foot more, and he would practically be on top of you. "And what of love??"

"Aren't I supposed to be the sassy one?"

"Love is dead, I tell you!" the Captain bemoaned, throwing his arms wide. You wondered how they would feel wrapped around you. "slain by none other than–"

Okay, this was getting out of hand. You crossed your arms over your chest, thankful that the breeze was still kicking up. "Are we still talking about the mistletoe or do you need a minute?"

The dramatics stopped abruptly, and Warriors cleared his throat. He began to speak, but none of it shone in his eyes. "Ah, yes, about that. Lunch is almost ready, so I would recommend heading over soon."

Then, he took your hand, pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles, and began to amble away.

You blinked, a bit surprised by the disappointment flooding your veins. Where was the determination? The annoyingly attractive swagger that only someone as vain as him could master?

The words tumbled off your tongue before you could stop them.

"Where are you going?"

Warriors paused. He turned around, an eyebrow raised, though it was far from judging. "...To the house?"

"Seriously?" Fuck, why were you so upset? Your hands balled loosely, and, before you knew it, you were marching forward, close enough to gently jam your finger against his sternum. "All that and you're going to just walk away?"

Confusion flooded the Captain's expression, but he didn't dare move away. In fact, he seemed to lean into your touch. "I thought you wanted–?"

"I don't," you cut him off, too far gone to bother being embarrassed. He wasn't the type of person you pegged doing things halfway, and you hoped to Hylia you were right. "Are you going to finish what you started or do I need to do it myself?"

The confusion morphed into realization, and, suddenly, there were arms around your bare waist and a pair of lips on yours. Your hands tangled in sandy blonde locks, and the world all but melted away when you pressed yourself to his chest, the flow of time quickening to the staccato-y rhythm of your heart. Fuck the heat, because you had all the warmth you needed right here.

Seconds passed, then m– then, you were separating, panting for stolen air. Warriors' eyes fluttered open, and your lungs stuttered at the pure adoration dancing in the bluebell irises. Then came a smile sweeter than any sunset, until you felt like the combined heat could strike you down at any moment. "There," he murmured, still holding you close.

"We should do that again," you blurted, cheeks flushing hotly. "I mean– for the holidays, obviously."

"I'd love nothing more," the Captain smiled–genuinely, wholly–and it was the last thing said between the two of you before his lips were on yours again, fingers tracing delicate circles on the flesh of your waist.

Maybe mistletoe wasn't so bad, after all.

Hope y'all enjoyed the witty banter; it's definitely my favorite thing to include in my stories <33

#2024 christmas event #linked universe x reader #the chain x reader #link x reader #linked universe #lu warriors x reader

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satellite-evans · 7 hours ago

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Juntos.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary: Franco struggles with disappointment after losing his racing seat, but your support helps him feel less alone in facing the tough situation.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, little fluff

main masterlist

A/N:

Hi everyone, this is my first Franco fic so I am very excited!!! I am very new to Formula 1 so I will try my best to make the stories as realistic as possible. I dramatized this fic a little bc I could not help myself lol but I love Carlos sm and wish him nothing but luck in Williams. Also, I would not mind if you guys help me understand Formula 1 more xxx

hope you guys will like it :)

Also, the Spanish words I used are directly from Google Translate, if I made mistakes please feel free to correct me <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The dim light of the apartment cast a glow over the cozy space, the kind that usually made the room feel warm and inviting. Tonight, however, it felt different—heavier, subdued, as if the walls themselves understood the weight of the emotions filling the air. The scent of a faintly burning candle lingered in the background, a forgotten remnant of an attempt to lighten the mood earlier in the evening. Outside, the muffled sounds of the city hummed faintly, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence inside.

Franco sat on the edge of the couch, his head bowed, fingers tangled in his dark hair. His shoulders hunched forward, as though bearing the weight of an invisible burden too great to carry. The usually vibrant spark in his eyes, the one that ignited whenever he talked about racing, was gone. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the floor, unseeing, his expression hollow. It was as if the moment he walked through the door, all the fight had drained out of him, leaving behind a man who didn’t know how to put the pieces of himself back together.

You stood by the kitchen counter, your heart breaking at the sight of him. He hadn’t said much since he got home, just a quiet “Estoy en casa” before sinking into the couch. He used easy Spanish words around you since he knew you wanted to learn the language. That's how kind he was. You’d known this day would be hard for him, but seeing him like this was almost unbearable. The news had come down like a guillotine: Carlos Sainz was taking the seat. Franco was out, with no prospects for next year. No contract, no guarantees. Nothing but the crushing void left behind by a dream slipping through his fingers.

It wasn’t fair. You knew how hard he’d worked, how much of himself he’d poured into his career. The endless hours in the gym, the relentless study of data, the sacrifices he made, all for the pursuit of speed, glory, and a chance to prove himself on the biggest stage. And yet, it hadn’t been enough.

He’d tried to hide it at first. When he’d called you after the meeting, his voice had been calm, even detached. But you’d heard the slight tremor, the hesitation that betrayed his carefully constructed mask. And now, here he was, the man you loved, unraveling before your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The steam curled softly in the air, a fragile whisper of warmth against the cold tension that filled the room. You set it down gently on the coffee table before lowering yourself onto the cushion beside him.

“Franco,” you said softly, your voice a lifeline in the quiet. He didn’t look up, but the slight shift in his posture told you he’d heard you. Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. His skin was warm, but his fingers remained still, unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I know how much this meant to you.”

For a moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes met yours, red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. The sight of him like this—so raw, so vulnerable—made your chest ache.

“I did everything,” he said, his voice cracking. “Everything. And it wasn’t enough. They just… threw me away. Like I don’t matter.”

Tears pricked your own eyes as you reached out to cup his face, your thumbs gently brushing against his stubbled cheeks. “You do matter, Franco. To me, to your family, to the fans who adore you. To everyone who’s ever seen you race and knows how talented you are.”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Talent doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have the politics, the money, the… connections. Carlos… he’s amazing, and he deserves it, I know that. But I can’t help feeling like I’ll never be enough, no matter what I do.”

“No soy suficiente,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "I'm not enough." His words hung in the air, filled with a quiet intensity.

“Don' say that, you're more than enough,” you echoed, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “And I know this feels impossible right now, like the world’s closing in on you, but this isn’t the end of your story. You’re Franco. My Frankie. You’re a fighter, a dreamer, and you’ve never let anything keep you down before. This won’t either.”

His shoulders sagged, and for the first time that evening, he leaned into you, his head resting against your shoulder. The weight of him felt heavier than usual, as though he’d poured all his sorrow and weariness into the simple act of leaning on you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, cradling him as if you could shield him from the pain of the world.

“No sé qué haría sin vos,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your neck. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His arms came around you then, pulling you closer, as though he was afraid to let go. You felt his tears dampen your shirt, and the sound of his quiet sobs broke your heart all over again. But you didn’t let go. You held him tighter, letting him pour out everything he’d been holding inside.

“You’re my everything, Franco,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “And I’ll always be here. No matter what. Together, we’ll get through this.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy but filled with something deeper now—gratitude, love, and maybe a flicker of hope. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips trembling against yours but charged with a fierce intensity. The kiss was deep and searching, a collision of his anguish and gratitude, his need to find solace in the one constant in his life—you. His hands cupped your face, fingers threading gently through your hair as though anchoring himself to you, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the kiss. It wasn’t hurried but deliberate, each movement a testament to the depth of his emotions. You could feel the raw edges of his heartbreak and the unspoken promise of his love, so consuming and desperate it made your chest ache.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven, the faintest quiver still lingering in his lips. The weight of his gaze bore into yours, as though he was silently pleading for reassurance that you’d stay by his side. And in that moment, you both knew you were his safe haven, his reason to keep fighting.

“We’re going to get through this,” you repeated softly, brushing a strand of his hair from his face. “Together.”

A soft murmur broke the silence. “Juntos,” Franco whispered, almost to himself.

You blinked, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Juntos? What’s that? An unreleased Sabrina Carpenter song or something?” you teased lightly, hoping to coax even a hint of a smile from him.

For a moment, he just stared at you, and then, to your relief, a small, genuine giggle escaped his lips. It was the first time you’d heard him laugh all night, and it warmed you to your core.

He shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips now. “No, it’s Spanish. It means ‘together.’”

“Together,” you repeated softly, the word settling in your heart like a comforting balm.

He nodded, his gaze searching yours. “You’ve been saying it all night without realizing it. ‘Together, we’ll figure it out.’ ‘Together, we’ll find a way.’ You keep reminding me I’m not alone. And… you’re right. Juntos. We’ll do this juntos, no matter what.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they were from the overwhelming love and gratitude you felt. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes, juntos. Siempre. Always.”

A soft chuckle escaped him again, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly. In that moment, the weight of the world didn’t feel as heavy anymore. Together—juntos—you knew you’d face whatever came next.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fluff #fluff #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto x fem!reader #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 #franco colapinto fic #franco colapinto angst

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citrusandrottefruit · 2 days ago

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My thoughts on the Hanahaki fic:

I think the whole idea of Hanahaki is really interesting and can be quite romantic in a tragic way, but I also think a lot about how horrible it is and the potential for it to end badly even when it's about reciprocated love. I think Hanahaki itself could be explored so much more in so many ways, but it often becomes so secondary, even though it's the theme of the fic.

How could anyone focus more on the fact that they're in love than on what that love has caused? Why don't these people try to confess early on, when they're still relatively okay? Some characters are so quick to choose to die without knowing for sure.

Hanahaki is horrible, but it’s usually portrayed as being horrible for the cause, not for itself. The suffering of dying, of feeling the slow decline of one’s own body, is understated, I think.

Another thing I was also thinking about is how stories about sick people end in miracle or tragedy. I don’t like that. Why can’t a sick person have something good that will last? Why can’t they be happy? Why does happiness have to be fleeting and end in death? Or a miracle? Why is it always about transforming other people’s lives?

People don’t have to be healthy to be happy. Health can be an important part of that, but it’s not an option for many people. Finding moments of happiness, joy, satisfaction, and pride should still be possible. And that’s not about making a bucket list and skydiving.

With that in mind, I wanted to write about a moment in the life of someone with Hanahaki, like a chronic illness. Just a moment. It’s not when Steve was diagnosed and had to learn to accept the fact that he wasn’t healthy, it’s not that moment in illness when the decline is so rapid that you run out of options. It’s just a moment in his life, where everything is influenced by the illness, but the big thing isn’t the illness itself. It’s him falling in love and deciding to open up to the family he found.

Also, since most Hanahaki fics have as their main themes poor communication and romantic love triggering the disease, I wanted to do something different.

Hanahaki is not something magical here that can happen to anyone (if it could, it would be much more common), it is simply a genetic disease that is triggered by emotional distress and starts to fill the person's lungs with something that looks like roots (what is that? I don't know. Some kind of cartilage hyperplasia that doesn't directly affect the joints, but causes a lot of cartilage to spontaneously grow around the lungs, maybe).

So, I decided that here Steve recognizes the importance of communication and does something about it, telling everyone who matters about what Hanahaki is really like. And Eddie, who would normally be the cause of Hanahaki, is not. He is simply someone Steve has started to love, who will not be the main cause of his suffering.

In this case, it's also easier for him to confess, because he doesn't have to say, "Hey, Eddie, if you don't like me, I'm going to die, because you made me sick." Technically, he would just have to say, "Hey, Eddie, I'm sick, love me, because loving and taking care of me will help me survive longer." But he didn't say any of that. He talked about himself, about his parents, and about his illness.

Because he wants to be loved, he wants to have a family, but he could never live in peace with himself if he didn't make it very clear what his life is going to be like. Right now, he's stable and relatively well, but things are still going to get worse and he needs to be sure, for himself and for the people he loves, that he won't be abandoned.

I could have done a lot worse. I considered it. Putting Steve through a lot more hospitalizations, having a lot more invasive procedures, spending a lot more time in the hospital, but I think that would have been inconsistent with everything he's done in canon. And I didn't want to take away all of his heroic deeds because his disease was so advanced, so I decided to give him 10 years of stability, with the disease progressing at a manageable pace.

Unfortunately, that also involved a lot of neglect of treatment, so his health started to decline further, but it's far from terminal.

Being sick is a very lonely experience, especially with rare diseases, because it feels like no one understands. Even the people closest to you, friends and family, are often unwilling to even try to understand. So I wanted to write an Eddie who searches for everything he can on his own, and who listens silently when Steve has the courage to talk about Hanahaki and his parents. He will never fully understand Steve, but he is trying, and that is very important.

Since Mrs. Harrington also has Hanahaki, it was possible to bring two different perspectives, and get this! Neither of them died, neither of them is a “one-sided love,” they just deal with the disease in very different ways.

I thought a lot about how to write Steve’s parents’ relationship, because it’s so complex, but I decided not to try to understand the nuances, because it’s being presented from their son’s point of view anyway, so it’s not like he knows everything. The fact is, they balance between decline and survival.

Mrs. Harrington is doing well because her husband still makes a point of spoiling her and giving her attention, and that’s enough to make her feel loved. He may like how loved he is, how much she adores him, and I can’t say he doesn’t want her to be well. He does. He cares for her, deeply. He wouldn’t spend 15 years (counting from the diagnosis) with a sick woman if he didn’t want to keep her alive.

But he doesn't understand Hahanaki, he doesn't even expect her to live for another 50 years. He doesn't think of her death as something that will shake the universe, it's just a certainty. He loves her, in a distant and impersonal way, and he loves that she loves him so much. They don't communicate well. They don't face Hanahaki together, they just go around it as if it were a huge ghost between them.

Mrs. Harrington medicates herself, of course, and gets the best treatments that money can buy, but that's very secondary in her life. Being reciprocated, believing in it and being with the ones she loves helps control the disease, but they don't do it in a healthy way.

To make matters worse, she isolated herself from many people and focused on who caused the circumstances that triggered Hanahaki.

Steve does the opposite. He talks about Hanahaki, he wants to make sure everyone knows how unavoidable Hanahaki has become, though he does his best to ignore it until 1985, when he has to tell Robin. Even then, he tries to downplay the fact that he is sick, because he doesn't want to worry her.

He changes his outlook because shortly after Vecna, he can feel how much weaker his body seems to be, and when he doesn't get better, he realizes that he can't be well enough to hide it anymore. Then the tests, the realization that he has actually gotten worse, and with that comes a new understanding of how uncertain his future is.

Steve could be like his mother. They share the same blood, the same disease, they spent years having similar ideas about keeping things a secret, they both watched Mr. Harrington go away while they stayed behind.

Then he watched his mother go away too.

Steve had a relationship that didn’t end well, and he was able to forgive, and he might have been able to get back together with Nancy and ignore everything that went wrong between them during spring break. But he didn’t do any of those things. Maybe that’s the choice he would have made, if Robin hadn’t been there for him, and if he hadn’t fallen in love with Eddie, if he didn’t care about the kids. If there wasn’t so much else in his life.

He made very different choices than his mother.

Anyway, that's it. Chronic Hanahaki, having a support network that goes far beyond a boyfriend, complications caused by the disease and the agony of living knowing that any day could be THE day you'll go into the hospital and won't get out so easily.

@eyehartart

#that is it #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hanahaki disease #stranger things #hanahaki au

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ravennaortiz · 1 day ago

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Always Here

Summary: Juice works through his grieve and regret at never telling you his true feelings.

Juice stared at himself in the mirror. His usual shirt and jeans exchanged for a suit and tie. “Can’t believe you got me in this” he muttered as he moved his arms trying to get used to the confining fabric. “Wish you could be here to see it. I know you’d be snapping photos and shit” he continued as a lump formed in his throat. “It’s not fair” he choked out as the grief hit him again.

“Easy laddie” soothed Chibs as he made his way into the bathroom followed by Tig and Half-Sack. “Easy” continued Chibs as he held Juice closed.

“It should have been you” sobbed Juice angrily as his eyes landed on Half-Sack who shrunk back.

“It wasn’t his fault. She died trying to give them both a chance” stated Chibs as he patted Juices back. “She wouldn’t want you harboring this anger towards him”.

Juice barely nodded. He knew that was true. If you were here right now you would be dragging him out by his ear to apologize. “She survived being blown up in Iraq only to be gunned down in a damn small town. I should have been with them. If I was maybe she” started Juice before Tig cut him off.

“She would still be in the casket in Chapel man. She was always going to sacrifice herself. Only thing that would have been different is you would be just as cold and in a casket next to her” stated Tig firmly as he clasped Juices shoulder. “While we all can understands the grief and pain of losing someone. None of us will understand the loss of losing her like you and Half have. I know it’s hard to think of this but he’s just as lost and torn up as you. Remember he had to sit with her as she cried, came to terms with dying and took her last breath. That he has to replay that though his mind day and night. She will always be here” continued Tig as he patted Juices chest and head before leaving the bathroom.

Awhile later Juice made his way out to the main area of the clubhouse. Jeez he thought as he looked at the crowd that was inside and looked to be out the door. A mix of bikers, soldiers and random civilians milled about as they wait for their turn to say goodbye. Tears started again as he thought about how many lives you had changed in the short time you had been on this earth.

“Hey baby” murmured Gemma as she pulled Juice in for a hug. “It’s okay” She soothed as she patted his back. “Why don’t you head into chapel with Half? I told him you two take as long as you want alone. The two of you deserve to say goodbye in private and without everyone else being present. We can all wait. She would want to be with her boys one last time”

Juice nodded as he let her move him towards the door. Taking a deep breath he opened it and stepped in. Keeping his eyes off the casket, not ready to see you so still again.

“I can lea-“ started Half-Sack as he turned tears spilling down his cheeks as he finished fixing your dog tags.

“Stay. I want you to and she would want that” stated Juice as he moved to stand across from him on the opposite side of your casket.

Half nodded as he wiped at his eyes. Before extending his arm out with a chain. “She would want you to have this” he stated as Juice looked at the dog tag that dangled from his hand. “It’s her extra I dug around our stuff when I was looking for mine to put on hers.

“Thanks” gulped Juice as he took the necklace and traced your engraved name before putting it over his head.

The two men fell into a comfortable silence. Each with their own thoughts as they said their goodbyes.

“I’m glad you were her battle buddy when she was over in Iraq. She lucked out with you. Thanks for watching over her when I couldn’t.” stated Juice as he glanced up to look at Half-Sack. "I took my anger on never telling her how I feel out on you. It wasn't your fault I didn't have the balls to tell her I loved her more than a friend. That I wanted her to be mine and all that sappy romantic stuff she would have dragged me for. I lost out on that with her and that's my cross to bear. Not yours"

“Pretty sure she watched over me.” Chuckled Half-Sack lightly as he met his friends’ eyes. “She loved you too. Just so you know. Always talked about you and shit. I’m sorry the two of you never got to be together like that. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her this time” continued Half-Sack as tears poured down his face as he went from the time you were both blown up to the time the bullets only pierced your flesh.

“You did all you could. Neither of you had any idea the bullet would hit her prosthetic like that and ricochet. She wouldn’t want you blaming yourself” stated Juice as he walked around and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m sorry for being an ass. She will always be here with us.” He stated as he felt a warmth on the back of his neck and a slight weight followed by what he swore was a whispered finally.

#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #juice ortiz #soa fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #fanfiction

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thesleepyhollows · 21 hours ago

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Understanding Arkhamverse scarecrow.

I’ve been wanting to make this post for awhile. I think with the release of Arkham shadow we might finally have all the necessary pieces to understand the life of Jonathan crane, his motivations and his descent into obsession.

This scene gives us a lot to work with.

Let’s start with this. It seems like unlike some versions of crane who see fear as a tool. The true face of control and power. Arkhamverse Crane sees fear as everything. This has been observed all throughout the series. From him discussing how fear drives every human action in Arkham asylum to this line in Arkham knight just before he’s defeated.

Something else I noted in that clip was Jonathan immediately trying to rationalise and analyse his reaction to his toxin using fear.

Now we’re not quite sure what this original chemical of his does. Only that its intention is to trigger the shadow within people. We can assume through both his and Batman’s reactions that it aims to do this through a similar process to the future fear toxin. Bringing out and facing people with their deepest fears. Hoping they may become them.

Though that leaves the same question. Why jump to fear. He’s clearly talented in chemistry. Surly there would be more direct ways to bring out people’s demons rather than only focusing on a single part of the shadow. Well I believe that shows us even before this realisation Jonathan had some experience and issues with fear. It’s also why his greatest fear seemingly is just. Fear itself. The helpless fears given to us from evolutions and experiences long before our time. Inherent fears.

However we also shouldn’t disregard his fixation on the shadow itself. Why does he seemingly want to get people to become their worst selves. As seen in his tapes with Harvey. Why is Jonathan crane like this?

Well I think there may have been a time where he saw someone consumed by fear. Destoryed by it.

This could draw an interesting parallel to the story of Amadeus Arkham whose story started when he watched his own mother be consumed by her mental illness before ending up consumed by it himself. I think this parallel could make a lot of sense given that I’d argue although the joker plays a more personal threat scarecrow is the main villain of the Arkham series.

So allow me to tell you what I believe to be the story of Jonathan Crane in the Arkham series. Assuming that the brief backstory we got in his Arkham asylum character bio isn’t considered canon.

A parent or other caregiver suffered from great anxiety and paranoia that caused them to do great harm. Maybe overtime perhaps in one tragic incident. Jonathan internalised this and began to grow interested in the mind. Maybe it started with good intentions. After all he does claim to be helping people in Arkham shadow. Maybe that was a lie and he’s been twisted for a very long time. Who knows.

He began work at Gotham state university and we know how that ended up.

Though it’s worth noting he clearly was brilliant. So much so that this incident unlike most versions of the character did not get him fired because his classes brought the university so much revenue. Instead he left on his own accord to take over as head of rehabilitation at blackgate. An odd choice given the amount of institutions bidding over him. They were likely offering more, far more than the job he took. Though I think his motivations for this were split. Partly is of course the obvious motivation of easy access to test subjects that couldn’t easily speak out. We can see in the previous game that he was running controlled tests likely of the chemicals we see used in Arkham shadow and his subjects were willing participants.

Now either not enough people were choosing to participate or the effects were becoming so potent it risked drawing unwanted attention to his work.

The second reason connects to my proposed backstory. Maybe he was curious to explore how fear connects and causes crime and violence via the shadow. The chain reaction that begins WITH fear.

We then see the events that happen in Arkham shadow and we find out alongside Jonathan that he’s been inhaling his own chemicals during testing. Smart move there buddy. This sends him into a psychotic spiral and forces him to confront and become his greatest fear. His shadow. Fear itself. We can see that this truly set in given how messed up he looks the following day. Not to mention his actions becoming erratic. No longer thinking to hide his crimes until after he severely injures Harvey and huffing his own chemicals right in court.

Afterwards? We’re not sure. Of course he goes on to become the scarecrow then the events play out as we see throughout the rest of the Arkham games. He gets mauled by killer croc during the events of asylum and his previously smug and joyfully sadistic personality get destroyed alongside his face. The experience clearly changed him quite drastically as a person. Although clearly it didn’t shake his core ideals and beliefs about the all consuming nature of fear.

How pitifully ironic that this idea became true in the end. As he’s injected with his own toxins his mind collapsing and giving way to permanent insanity and terror. Fear really was everything Jonathan had left in the end.

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pretty-sparkle-bomb · 1 day ago

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Chapter I 'Into You' Masterlist Main Masterlist

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader x Shoto Todoroki (subject to change as the chapters progress, they're just kids right now after all)

On the day of Obon, families bring food and gifts, flowers and jewelry to give to their loved ones. And after centuries of being banished, Xibalba had had enough.

A man loomed with an aura of menace and mysteriousness; his presence contrasted to the vibrant world around him. His form was lean yet muscular, draped in armor as dark as midnight and licked by wild green flames. His white hair stood out, silky and soft, slightly draping over his crimson eyes burning like embers within a void. Despite his fearsome appearance, there was a sardonic charm to him, a malevolence in the quirk of his lips or the way his eyes lingered on his surroundings.

“Really my dear, you have no idea how cold and vile the land of the forgotten has become.” He shuddered, casting a glance around him at the giggling kids and happy families. Though they could not see him, he still brought a chilliness with him that caused goosebumps to rise.

A woman giggles, her dark, flowing hair cascaded down her back, framing her alabaster skin adorned with intricate designs. “Just like your heart, Xibalba.” Her features were sharp and striking, with eyes that seemed to hold secrets of the afterlife, accentuated by bold makeup that shimmered like starlight.

“Why must I rule a bleak wasteland while you get to enjoy an endless fiesta?” he groans, turning around swiftly to glare at her. “It’s simply unfair.”

She just smiles at him and continues walking forward only to be stopped by Xibalba appearing directly in front of her. “Come on my dear, trade lands with me? I beg you.”

“Oh, you’re so cute when you beg. But no.” She stifles a laugh and brushes past him. Xibalba grabs her hand to pull her back. “I’m serious. I hate it down there.”

“Hey! You’re there because you cheated!” she shoved him back with one hand as the other tucked in the loose strand dangling in front of her face. “You made your bed with that wager.” She shook her head and walked past him, only stopping to say one final sentence. “You aren’t the man I fell in love with, Xibalba.”

“Let's not dwell in the past, mi amor.” He was saddened by her final remark but chose to mask his true feelings. “Anyway, I was thinking... How about another little wager?”

La Muerta stopped, fire in her eyes as she swiftly turned around, one finger jabbing accusatorily into his chest. “You think you can calm the flames of my anger with another bet?” She roared. Xibalba gulped. “What exactly did you have in mind?” her response shocked him but he continued, nonetheless.

“Let's check out the menu for the evening.” He looked around, spotting a little commotion in the near distance. “Look there, my love. Classic mortal dilemma.”

La Muerta moved closer, her hands clasped in front of her. Two boys, best friends no less… but what is this she’s sensing? They’re both in love with the same girl! What a lovely surprise.

One with eyes ruby red, and spiky ashen blond hair, another with heterochromatic eyes and hair perfectly split into two colours, one side red, and the other white. A young girl stood in between them both, hair tied up in a bun and a gold pendant hanging from her neck. This is the prefect wager.

An idea struck her, and she looked at Xibalba. “Two boys in love with the same girl? How about we each choose one that we believe she will marry in the future? How about we each choose our champion?”

Xibalba laughed, “It seems that even after centuries, I have still rubbed off on you.”

La Muerta rolled her eyes as she watched the commotion. The boy with heterochromatic eyes was playing his guitar, while the young girl sat and listened attentively, eyes closed as she hummed along to the steady rhythm. A loud boom filled the air. “See Y/n? I’ve gotten better at it! I told you I’m the best!”

“I see you Kats.” she giggled and La Muerta hummed, this girl was her. This was a wager to bet on. “Stay away Bakugo, the girl is mine.” Shoto placed his guitar down as ice encased his hand.”

“Ha? Never! She belongs to me, Todoroki.” Bakugo picked up a wooden sword and pointed it to Todoroki’s face.

“I belong to no one.” The young girl stood up, brushing out her dress and folding her arms across her chest.

“My, she’s feisty. Just like a woman I know.” Xibalba finally said, sighing longingly as he stared at the luscious hair of the woman with the red dress. La Muerta offered her hand to him. “Let’s go wish them luck, shall we?”

And with that, they took the form of an elderly couple and began their stroll.

The two deities, now disguised as an elderly couple, strolled through the bustling streets of Musutafu. The vibrant sounds of laughter and music filled the air, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted toward them. They approached the trio just as the boys' friendly rivalry threatened to escalate into something more dramatic.

The young girl, Y/n, had her arms crossed, a firm expression on her face. "If you two don't stop bickering, I'll just go home!"

Katsuki, still clutching his wooden sword, scowled. "Tch, I wasn't gonna hurt him. He's just asking for it!"

Todoroki remained calm, his heterochromatic eyes steady. "There's no need to fight. Let’s settle this like adults."

Before the tension could rise further, the elderly couple shuffled forward. La Muerta, with her shawl draped gracefully over her shoulders, held onto Xibalba’s arm for balance. Xibalba leaned heavily on a carved cane, his eyes twinkling mischievously beneath his thick brows.

“Excuse me, children,” La Muerta said in a soft, kind voice. “We couldn’t help but notice your argument. It’s the Obon festival—such a sacred day for peace and remembrance.”

Xibalba coughed dramatically, hunching slightly. “Ah, forgive us for interrupting, but we’re old and hungry. Might we trouble you for some bread?”

Y/n immediately stepped forward. “Of course! Please, wait here. I’ll grab some for you.” Immediately, she went off running. Xibalba smirked; it was time to put his plan into action.

Todoroki called out for the girl but she was too far away to hear. “I have some bread with me,” he said, pulling a neatly wrapped loaf from his satchel. “Here you go, sir.” He offered it with both hands, a polite bow accompanying the gesture.

“Such a kind young man,” La Muerta said, her smile warm and approving. “Your heart is as pure as the music you play.” Todoroki smiled slightly and took off to look for the girl. La Muerta patted Xibalba on the back and slowly hobbled away.

Katsuki, however, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What about you? You want bread too?”

Xibalba tilted his head, pretending to look frail and pitiful. “I wouldn’t refuse, boy. But surely, I wouldn’t want to take what you need for yourself.”

Katsuki’s grip on his satchel tightened. “Nothing comes for free. If you want it, give me something in return.”

Xibalba’s lips quirked upward. “Ah, a clever one,” he said, reaching into his robe. “Very well, boy. I’ll trade you for something... special.”

From his sleeve, Xibalba produced a small, intricately designed medal. It gleamed in the sunlight, its surface etched with ancient symbols that seemed to hum with latent energy.

“This,” Xibalba said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “is no ordinary medal. It grants its wearer unmatched courage and strength. And as long as you wear it, you’ll never suffer harm.”

Katsuki’s crimson eyes widened slightly, his expression shifting from suspicion to intrigue. “Really?” he muttered, trying not to sound too eager. “Old man, you better not be lying to me.”

Xibalba held up his hands in mock surrender. “I swear on the spirits of the Forgotten. Now, will you trade?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Katsuki thrust the bread into Xibalba’s hands and snatched the medal. The moment it touched his skin, a strange warmth coursed through him. His stance became more confident, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“I knew it,” Xibalba said softly, his gaze lingering on Katsuki. “You’re going to be... quite entertaining.”

Xibalba caught up to La Muerta and as the two walked away, their forms began to shimmer briefly under the moonlight, revealing their true selves.

“This is going to be fun,” Xibalba mused, his crimson eyes glinting with excitement.

“Don’t get too cocky, my dear,” La Muerta said, her voice tinged with amusement. “The girl’s heart is pure. She won’t be swayed by simple tricks.”

Xibalba chuckled darkly. “Oh, but sometimes, my love, the simplest tricks are the most effective.”

Taglist!

@dragonscribble

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aringofsalt · 2 days ago

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2024 fic roundup!

tagged by @loucifersbitch 💛

2024 is definitely my most prolific fic-writing year ever. 20 fics (1 stranger things, 19 9-1-1, though one of those is just an nsfw art piece so really 18 fics) and 66,895 total words!!!

not to get sappy but i am so grateful to this fandom for getting me writing so much. hopefully the inspiration keeps flowing!

april

and i'll show you lovely things | tommy hagan/steve harrington/eddie munson | e | 6108 words

Tommy matches with a guy on a dating app who's looking for a third for him and his boyfriend. Turns out he's pretty familiar with the boyfriend.

may

and i can't explain, but you keep calling my name | bucktommy | t | 1358 words

Tommy meets the Buckleys. It goes about as well as expected.

do you got room for one more troubled soul? | bucktommy, eventual buddietommy | t | 5092 words

Eddie helps Buck chase off a guy who won't take 'no' for an answer. Tommy realizes some things. Then they all realize some things.

we can go back and play pretend | buddietommy | t | 3067 words

A bartender at Buck, Eddie, and Tommy's favourite bar has some thoughts.

june

you got your hair combed back and your sunglasses on, baby | bucktommy | e | 3576 words

They mess around in Tommy's garage. That's it, that's the fic.

help is on the way | bucktommy | g | 1687 words

Tommy picks Buck up after he gets hurt on a call.

outta my mind (in the palm of your hand) | bucktommy | e | 5335 words

Buck works up to calling Tommy daddy.

sticks & stones may break my bones... | bucktommy | t | 1073 words

Buck finds Tommy's toy chest.

august

i'll go wherever you will go | bucktommy, eddietommy, buddietommy | t | 2880 words | wip

a little collection of ficlets inspired by tumblr asks and prompts!

all that you are to me | bucktommy | g | 737 words

buck doesn't hang up the phone properly and tommy gets to hear what he really thinks of him.

a screw or two | bucktommy | t | 3327 words

the grindr fic

september

to step into the storm | bucktommy | g | 814 words

Tommy talks to Chimney before heading to the loft.

october

be the shelter from the storm | bucktommy | m | 2736 words

Tommy gives Buck a key, and Buck gives Tommy a collar.

we're never gonna quit (ain't nothing wrong with it) | bucktommy | e | 843 words

Buck and Tommy have a little fun by the Jeep

you broke the bonds & you loosed the chains | bucktommy | e | 3271 words

Tommy's collar gets some matching cuffs.

medals stay on | bucktommy | m | 48 words (art and description)

a little fun after the medal ceremony

november

you know where i'll be | bucktommy | g | 2227 words

Buck and Jee-Yun meet Tommy on a basketball court. No ankles were broken in the writing of this fic.

the face i wear is not my own | tommy & original female character | t | 1584 words

118 Tommy makes a friend on a call.

it's not the fall, it's the getting up | bucktommy | t | 3132 words

Buck and Tommy get to talk a few weeks post-breakup.

welcome to snowflake hollow | bucktommy | m | 18,000 words

Tommy is injured in 2005 and moves to Snowflake Hollow, Maine, after inheriting Pine Point Lodge from his great-uncle. Buck is injured in 2019 and decides to cross the country to get a bit of a break before he does something rash (like sue the department). Did you want a sappy holiday rom-com? Cause you're getting a sappy holiday rom-com.

and a bonus update to the ao3 wrapped tag game i did a few weeks ago, because i did that before posting snowflake hollow!

#ao3 wrapped #my fic #thanks for an amazing 2024 yall 💛

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malt-rants-and-stuff · 16 hours ago

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HEHEHE SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT<333 LOVED THESE NOTES SO MUCH I JUST KEEP REREADING THEM AND GIGGLING

I have some note of my own to share!! which is why this response took a bit (sorry about the dark screenshots I'm writing this in the dark at 3 am)

first off, yes I indeed reached into your mind to channel the vibes I put into this fic.

no fr though this was such a fun fic to write from my perspective as someone who has moved about 10-ish times in my life and who will surely move again. I dug into my own memories of moving out of the places I lived the longest just for this. that whole first section was inspired by the time I moved from living in my grandparents big house with tons of cousins and family, to suddenly being basically alone with my mom who was barely home. tashiro really dragged out those feelings I had and made them his own lol.

haha. yeah. to add onto this: there was a version of the draft with hanzawa haunting the narrative like this in like half the scenes. little tid-bits and mentions of his activities. but in the end that concept didn't stick bc I wanted the main focus to be on shirashiro

i wrote this while hanging out with a friend and she said they sounded quote "really fucking married" so it's nice to see that wasn't just her saying things lmao

this whole section was a fun one. the scrunchie is a bit I added after a very heated debate with myself over whether I wanted longer haired tashiro or if I wanted to have a scene of them cutting his hair. as you could probably tell I chose the longer hair

the gag gifts are in tashiro's room. while they didn't decorate much of the main sections of the apartment, their rooms are basically full of all the stuff from their old houses. he keeps the pots on his window sill and later down the line adopts some lovely little fake plants from a guy on the side of the road that turn out to be real plants. he lets shirahama name them.

the soup is a silly story. if I'm ever inclined to do a follow up to this I'd write it out fully. basically it's from ogasawara to tashiro, but he gave it to shirahama in a really awkward interaction and then sasaki mocked him for it. not pictured in that part is that miyano brought sasaki to help lift the couch, who brought oga because free labor, who brought soup because hid family said to bring a housewarming gift and he thought 'soup is warm'. some other shenanigans occur including hanzawa that we wont get into. its a fun time.

and on another personal note, the soup is inspired by my first meal in my current apartment. ive posted about it before, but my current move was an absolute disaster of legal bullshit and ridiculous time crunches that almost left me homeless. and during that time, there wasn't really a chance to think about food. it was a mad dash to move apartments in 12 hours that by some miracle worked out. so when I finally had the chance to breathe, I realized I A: had no food and B: was too tired to go get some. thankfully, my aunt stopped by during the chaos and left some surprise soup for me, and i warmed it up and ate it out of a pot with a ladle bc I couldn't find bowls or spoons. it was vegan soup and it tasted like freedom

thank you for drawing my vision and adding to it. this is so wonderful... fun fact: the headband is tashiro's. there's a deleted scene of him taking it and giving that explanation and some other things happened but it didn't feel right so it didn't make the cut. that face mask is so fun tho I love it

[rubbing my hands together] muahahaha yessss!!! the implications!!!!!

my exact feelings writing that scene

hilarious that you spotted that, it was in fact a sunnnfish reference! it actually said sunfish before but it felt too on the nose lol

this bit haunted me for a while because I couldn't figure out an animal that fully captured my vision of him. then I visited a museum and saw a hare and went "oh shit. shirahama."

Yeagh.....

i know what I wrote and it was on purpose but also in my heart they are always seated at a circular table that wobbles every time one of them leans on it and they take turns standing dramatically from it and watching it teeter

yeahhh he's grown so much!!! he's older and not much wiser and he still!! plays!!! ping pong!!!!!

another deleted scene included them playing a game that they got married in for tax (loot) benefits but I sadly let it go because it was focused around a plot line I abandoned for atmosphere purposes

here lies sunny, died from a lethal dosage of shirashiro jajsjsj

no but seriously this part was especially fun to write. I want to note in that second to last paragraph that the way he did that was on purpose very odd. he could've used just his hand to clean it off, or a paper towel, or just told shirahama and had him wash it off himself. but he didn't. it was also a very sudden full body turn. why did he do all that <-knows why

and the ponytail tashiro drawing!!!! cups him in my palms

if there were ever a b-side to this from shirahama's pov, it would mostly just be composed of a million "oh. oh." moments on loop

this whole project was a lot of fun for me mostly just from an editing standpoint. i had so much time to change and adjust scenes to make them work how i wanted. and all that left me with tons of deleted scenes and ideas i can reuse later which is awesome. thank you so much for the awesome prompt and lovely notes<333

@sunnfish okay Take Two!!! hello sunny sunnfish you wonderful sea creature! I was your secret santa for the @ssmygiftexchange! so sorry for the delay on this, my scheduled post was taken by the tumblr void and I wasn't home with my laptop to remake this post haha.

Your prompt was shirashiro college roommates au and prev pres, hanzawa, and tashiro hang out!! hope i was able to do this justice, this is officially the longest oneshot ive posted :)

Now with an Ao3 version, i would recommend reading there because Tumblr messed up some of my formatting and I can't fix it right now ^_^

Summary:

Tashiro and Shirahama are college roommates. It's a relatively peaceful life.

A non-linear story written for the sasamiya & hirakagi winter gift exchange!

As it turns out, moving in with a guy that you’ve known for almost half your life is pretty unremarkable.

Maybe it has something to do with being too familiar with each other. There have been too many sleepovers for the sound of snores to phase him, too many gym classes for the sight of skin to fluster him, too much time for anything to feel awkward between them. And yet…

And yet.

Packing your whole life into boxes is pretty hard, as it turns out. Looking around his room now it seems hard to imagine how it’ll feel to see the whole place emptied out. Cleared of every reminder of himself.

Tashiro tries not to think about it so hard as he turns back towards the closet. He’s never felt the need to go through everything he had stuffed in there until now, remnants of the past mixing with comforts of the present.

He reaches out to grab one of the hangers, pulling it free. His ping-pong jacket, he thinks despairingly, is slowly becoming small on him. His name spelled across the back in white lettering brings him back to when he first noticed. The growth spurts he’s been having refuse to slow even for a moment, and though he likes that some days, it mainly makes him face annoying things like this.

If he leaves the jacket, it will probably be packed up and put away somewhere to be forgotten. He can picture it now, sitting in a box stuffed away as it slowly fades from his memory. It makes him feel sort of heavy. But, if he takes it with him, he’s not sure it would be much better in the long run. Just holding it in his hands reminds him of how much time has passed. Of how fast it will keep passing.

He stands there, gears turning haphazardly in his mind, as he tries to breathe it all in.

Then, a knock.

His eyes dart to his doorway in surprise– knowing none of his family was home right now– only to remember that he’d invited the others to help him out.

Shirahama stands in front of him, knuckles resting against the already ajar door. His slightly bored face and tellingly awkward posture show that he hadn’t expected to be the first to arrive.

“Is your doorbell broken?” He asks as his socked feet pad their way into the room. “I tried using it, for once, but from that look I guess you didn’t hear.”

Tashiro finds himself a little amused by this, as he knows for a fact Shirahama has his own key. Perks of coming over to play games most weekends out of the year. He remembers them making jokes about going into each other's fridges while no one was home when they traded keys.

“Nah, guess I was just distracted,” He says with a casual shrug, placing the jacket back in the closet.

Shirahama gives him a questioning look. “I thought you were moving out, not back in.” His friend jokes as he passes Tashiro, grabbing a couple of shirts from the closet alongside the jacket.

He feels his eyebrow twitch in a way that reminds him a little of Hanzawa; and what a scary thought that is.

“I’m feeling indecisive.” He says, his mouth twisting to match how the word makes him feel. All twisted up and confused.

Shirahama turns to the side to face him, having stacked more clothes into his arms that look to be on the verge of falling to the floor. “About what? If you should take your whole house with you?”

That jacket. If I should re-dye my hair. Growing up. You. The future.

“What if we paint all the walls yellow?” He says instead of the hundreds of things his racing mind pushes forward.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Shirahama responds resolutely, his eyes showing no room for argument. Not that Tashiro will let that stop him.

“Or maybe green? Something bright.” He continues on, stepping away from his thoughts to grab the jacket out of the teetering pile and place it to the side. “Actually, scratch that, blue would be great too.”

Shirahama gives him a withering look that has no effect on his enthusiasm. Now that he’s thinking about it, the fact that he isn’t going to make these kinds of decisions on his own anymore is pretty fun. He’ll have a roommate, a friend to work through his troubles with. The thought makes him feel lighter.

“Hey, d’you still want this?” Shirahama asks some time later, long after Kuresawa and Miyano have come and gone. Tashiro looks up from the stack of boxes he’d just finished labeling.

“Oh, yeah I almost forgot!” He says as he takes his jacket, tying it around his waist for safekeeping. He really hopes he didn’t overestimate how much closet space he has.

It’s only a few hours after the final box has been unloaded and the moving van is hauled off when Tashiro makes a chilling discovery.

“Dude, we have no food.” He says, eyes staring at the bleak emptiness of their new fridge.

“Yup,” Shirahama responds as he walks up beside him, handing Tashiro a scrunchie in a sort of placating manner.

Tashiro’s shoulders droop with the weight of his exhaustion. Moving was one of the most tiring things he’s ever done, and coming from him that’s saying something.

Turning away from the depressing artificial fridge lighting, Tashiro turns toward the kitchen counter behind him and grabs his keys. As wrecked as he might feel, the growls of his stomach refuse to be ignored. “I’ll go buy something quick,” He says.

“Ah- wait, I have an idea,” Shirahama says suddenly. Back straightening, he moves away from the fridge of doom over to a bag of housewarming gifts the others had left. It was mostly a small array of gag gifts, little plant pots shaped like ping pong balls and a lampshade shaped like a pudding cup, but in a small container alongside the rest was something else. A saving grace for the hungry:

A tub of butter.

Tashiro looks at it in confusion, asking if his friend was really that hungry.

Shirahama smirks, “With food, no container is ever as it seems.”

He opens the tub’s lid, revealing its contents. Inside is not butter, but a large frozen serving of chicken soup. Tashiro feels his jaw drop as he gasps in disbelief.

Quickly shaking himself of his shock, Tashiro grins brightly. He takes the soup and stuffs it into the microwave, but Shirahama stops him from starting the timer.

“Y’know it would taste better if you put it in a pot instead.” Shirahama says, his hand gently clasped around Tashiro’s wrist in a way that he chooses not to internalize. His fingers are a little cold.

“But it’s already cooked.”

“So? You can still warm it up in the pot. Plus it’ll make it taste closer to how it’s supposed to.” Shirahama retorts, opening the microwave and placing the tub on the counter as he goes to try and find a pot in the sea of boxes.

Tashiro stays behind as he thinks. He hadn’t ever had a reason to go so far out of his way to warm up food before. He feels himself smile a bit, the first change he’ll have to get used to in this new life.

As it turns out, keeping a relatively small apartment clean is a little difficult when you’re living on your own as two messy 18 year olds.

They tried the whole chore chart thing at first, Shirahama said he used to have one at his parent’s house and it worked fine. But, well, it’s a little different when it’s just them.

The dishes are stood in a precarious stack, plates and glasses towering in ways gravity should never allow. Tashiro faces his task with a body radiating reluctance.

He’s been busy the entire week. Classes and work keep him out of the house, and even when he is home he prefers to spend time relaxing or hanging out with Shirahama. He had forgotten about his chore, and now it’s become a problem.

Carefully reaching towards the tower, he grabs the cups first and goes for the sponge right as Shirahama walks out from his room.

He has his hair held back by a headband, because my bangs are a nightmare right now, he’d explained the other day.

He walks towards the kitchen and looks at Tashiro, who has begun to work through the dishes.

“…Need any help?” He asks as he reaches toward the kitchen cabinet, pulling out the chips he’d come for.

“Oh, no I’m good,” Tashiro responds, though the overwhelmed look in his eyes doesn’t match his words.

Hm. Shirahama puts his chips down on the counter, turning towards the sink and stepping up beside his friend. “I’ll dry and you wash, okay?” He says with a smile.

Tashiro blinks at him for a moment, lips parted in an ‘o’, before he nods and sends back a smile of his own.

They make it through everything eventually, though not without some effort and accidental water sprays. They decide afterwards to just do the dishes together, just to save them time.

There's this strange sensation that comes for him one day. The apartment is dark, the steady hum of the aircon welcoming him home, and immediately something feels amiss.

Tashiro kicks off his shoes, only to turn back around and place them carefully on the shoe rack. He always forgets that it’s something he should worry about now. Keeping his home in order was never really a big deal before, it was usually only him spending time there anyways.

Passing through the short hallway, his eyes catch on a small black and red container. He looks around suspiciously, but finds no sign of Shirahama. Crossing the creaky floorboards, he inspects the tupperware and finds a green sticky note pressed onto the lid.

Went to a mixer.

Put this in a pot and try eating real food for once

Tashiro blinks away his shock. His eyes trace over the words on the note. Again, then again.

Thump

His hands warm the plastic as he goes to hold it, and a smile breaks out across his face. He’ll have to say thanks later.

Placing his food back onto the counter, he turns to go change. He feels anticipation swirl around inside of him, and even without tasting the soup, Tashiro feels warm.

Tashiro finds out in the second month of living with his best friend that they’re maybe not the best at making their place livable.

“How have you guys been living like this?” Miyano asks, part judging and part concerned. They’re standing in the living room, which consists of a couch, a tv, and a shelf balanced on two boxes that they use as a coffee table. The tv sits on the floor with a console, video game cases stacked beside it.

It’s not like they haven’t talked about decorating. They joked about it before moving, and made plans about what they wanted to do. The plans just… didn’t end up happening.

At some point between the exhausting move-in and the rush of classes starting up, decorating didn’t feel like that urgent of a thing.

But now classes have been in session for a while, and they still haven’t bothered with it.

The click of Kuresawa’s camera bounces off the empty walls. “A total bachelor pad,” he says, sounding just to the left of impressed. “My girlfriend was wondering what it looks like when two college guys live together.”

Tashiro groans at that, knowing that another classing girlfriend ramble is on its way.

“We live just fine,” Shirahama says, and as if on cue the boxes fold into themselves, sending the shelf clattering to the floor. Right.

They decide to go furniture shopping, just to make sure that they don’t have to deal with any more Looks from Miyano or paparazzi from Kuresawa.

Tashiro suppresses a laugh, pointing towards a table with odd looking fish for legs, “We need that.” Shirahama laughs along with him, but shakes his head.

“We have a budget, we’re only getting what we absolutely need.” He reminds Tashiro. His eyes turn towards a yellow and white coffee table that is practically calling for him. He turns away.

Tashiro salutes him, and doesn’t retaliate when Shirahama gives him a playful shove in response. He turns around and walks towards a different part of the store, twisting strands of his hair between his fingers as he goes. He really needs to touch up his roots.

Spotting something on a shelf, he picks it up. It’s a decorative statue, a silver painted hare taking a nap. He smirks and turns around, walking back to Shirahama. “Hey, look, I found you…” he starts to say before trailing off, eyes focusing on Shirahama’s side profile.

His eyes look focused in the way they always do when he’s overthinking something simple. His brows are pinched and his thumb is pressed flat on the side of his lip. Tashiro breathes in the expression, and decides he can show him later.

Laughter reverberates through the restaurant, one table in particular shining with rays of excitement and teasing.

“No, but seriously, how many more piercings can you get?” Tashiro questions dramatically, standing from his seat to stretch across the table and investigate. Hanzawa only laughs behind his hands and turns his head, showing off another new hole in his ear.

“If you ask that every time you’ll keep giving yourself a headache,” says the eldest one at the table, the previous ping pong president in all his red haired glory smirks mischievously and pats Tashiro’s back.

Crossing his arms and dropping back into his seat, Tashiro tries to keep up an air of frustration. It lasts about a second before he breaks out into a smile of his own.

These little meet-ups are a lot of fun for him. It’s not every day that all three of them are in one place. Especially not with their current schedules. It’s a nice break from the busy life he’s been settling into.

He feels his heart warm as he sits with his friends, ready to bring up his latest win in his college ping pong club, when his phone vibrates. Flipping it over, he sees that Shirahama texted him.

Divorce Soon: hey r you home

I left my jacket and this place is freezing

He pauses to consider. He’s not very far from the apartment, he could run there, grab it, and drop it off pretty quickly. But… he glances up from his phone to the two in front of him. He doesn’t want to leave yet. But… looking back at his phone he sees the spam of crying emoji’s Shirahama has begun sending.

“Hey guys, sorry but my roommate needs me to get him something,” he says with an awkward expression. The conversation pauses as the two process what he said. “Oh sure, you need a ride?” His absolutely genius red haired friend offers, pulling his keys out as he says it.

“Yes!” Tashiro replies as his expression lights up. He tells Shirahama he’s on the way, and they head out towards the parking lot.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Tashiro fiddles with the edge of his shirt. He tries not to move too much, looking back and forth from his hands to Shirahama. His friend has that same look in his eyes that he did back in middle school art class. Focused, determined, trying and failing to keep paint off of his face. Only this time the paint is a bright yellow dye.

They’ve been like this for a while. He hums along to the music playing from his phone. His butt feels a little numb and he has counted and recounted the tiny floor tiles at least a million times, all 173- no, 175 of them. He tries to focus his attention on anything but the gloved hands in his hair.

He carefully reaches over for his phone, switching the playlist to a random one he saw in his recommendations.

It’s not as if he couldn’t survive in silence for a little while. He usually doesn’t have anyone else to do this for him, so silence is kind of a given.

But as he taps the beat into his leg and opens his mouth, no words come out. He lets the silence linger even as Shirahama begins humming the words to a song he remembers coming out in their first year. He thinks about laying on the floor of his bedroom, phone conversations bouncing off his poster-lined walls and music blasting.

He remembers the telltale clicks and clacks from the other end of the call, the curses against ridiculous route mechanics spilling into his ears.

Tashiro feels like this is sort of like those moments, just a little bit more. His legs are longer, his hair can go into a ponytail now, and his world feels so much bigger. His eyes turn towards the boy-technically-man in front of him. His eyes look sharper and his face is more angular.

But, in a lot of ways he feels the same as he always has. The same Shirahama who cried during their graduation, and sat next to him on their first day of middle school. The same Shirahama who bullies him for counting on his fingers, but forgets what comes after 3 when he’s drunk enough.

The same yet different Shirahama. They match in that way, at least. Both the same, but not fully.

“I… think I’m done?” Shirahama says, breaking their steady silence. Tashiro stands to go look in the mirror. He giggles at the sight of his foil-wrapped hair sticking out at odd angles.

Shirahama laughs along with him, and it really isn’t that funny, but they still stand there giggling like idiots. Tashiro pulls at the corner of his shirt again, turning around and raising it up to Shirahama’s face and wiping away some of the dye.

He drops his shirt and turns back to the mirror, looking at the two of them in the reflection. He watches the way Shirahama’s face stays frozen, and how his whole face flushes like it always has. It’s nice to see some things will never change.

#malt rants #malt writes #sunnnfish #shirashiro

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