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youreverydayfangirl · 7 months ago

Text

You Are In Love

pairing: lando norris x fretwell! reader

summary: y/n y/ln has finally moved on from lando norris, or in which lando tries everything he can do to get his girl back

warning: angsty tbh, but has fluff in the end

a/n: after agessss!!! its all set in 2024

part 1 is here

"You know what I'm so done with you. Of course you want me now, I'm trying to get over you Lando, I need to get over you." She said, her voice breaking a little. He wanted to grab her, hold her, apologise.

"What if I don't want you to." He said.

She completely stepped back, tears in her eyes.

"Fuck you Lando Norris."

Y/n didn't know how it happened, how quickly love could turn into indifference. Hate was one thing. Indifference was another thing completely. It meant that hearing his name wouldn't spark a reaction from her, seeing his face didn't make her heart skip a beat. She had loved Lando since she was fifteen, but at some point you have to give up, say goodbye. Because she'd rather feel nothing that still love him.

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

2024, February

yourusername has posted

liked by landonorris, maxfretwell and 2, 395, 039 others

yourusername GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS

tagged: yourbsfusername

yourbsfusername WE LOOK SO GOOD

-> yourusername yeah we do don't we

lilymhe GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS

→ yourusername GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS

francisca.cgomes Y/N WORLD TAKEOVER

-> yourusername ofc

maxfretwell EW ITS YOU

-> yourusername get out of my comments weirdo

user1 lando in the likes again

-> user2 be so real when is he not snooping

user3 she looks so much healthier

-> user4 right this y/n era>>>

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

Y/n groaned at the insistent ringing of her phone, pulling her from a very nice nap. "What do you want idiot?" She snapped at her brother, whose face had popped up on her phone.

"Good morning to you sleeping beauty." He said, laughing at his younger sister.

"Is there a reason you're calling me at-" Y/n squinted at the time on her screen, "-3 in the afternoon?" She rubbed her eyes, not yet fully awake.

Her brother laughed on the other end. "I needed to remind you of our plans tonight. Or did you forget already?"

Y/n huffed, pushing herself up against the pillows. "Of course not. I just wasn’t expecting a wake up call," she grumbled.

"Right, right. Well, don’t fall asleep again; we’re leaving in an hour," he teased.

As soon as he hung up Y/n groaned and shoved her head back into the comfort of her soft pillows.

She met Max at a small restaurant tucked away on a quiet street, where he was waiting at a corner booth, already nursing a beer. "Hey, stranger," he greeted her with a warm hug.

"Hey yourself," she laughed, sliding in across from him. "This place is cute."

“Only the best for my very picky little sister.” Max smirked, but his expression softened as he looked at her. “So, how’s everything going? Really.”

Y/n shrugged, giving a small smile. “Pretty good. Busy, you know. I've just been focusing on working on myself and staying sober, Bsf has helped out alot with that."

Max nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “And are you… happy?”

The question caught her off guard, and she hesitated, glancing away before looking back at him. “I mean… yeah. Things have been pretty good recently”

Max studied her for a moment, his gaze knowing. “But?”

“But…” she paused, pushing the menu away and sighing. “I don’t know, Max. Sometimes it feels like… like there’s something missing. You know? Like something’s still holding me back.”

Max leaned back, watching her carefully. “Lando?”

She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “I thought I was done with that. After everything last year, I told myself I couldn’t keep holding onto him. He never even tried to reach out after everything that happened like come on. I've moved on now."

“Maybe he just thought you didn’t want him to reach out,” Max suggested gently. “You left pretty quickly.”

She stared down at her hands, fiddling with the edge of a napkin. “Yeah, but I couldn’t stay. After hearing him say… all that, after everything we went through, I didn’t know what else to do but leave.”

Max nodded, thinking for a moment before he spoke. “Look, I’m not saying you should do anything you’re not ready for, but I’ve known Lando for a long time. He’s got his faults, but I think he’s just as messed up over you as you are over him. I think he’s been struggling with it since the day you left.”

She felt a pang in her chest, memories of Lando flashing through her mind. “I don’t know, Max. It’s been a year, and I’ve tried so hard to let go.”

Max reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “And maybe you have. But maybe… maybe there’s a part of you that needs to hear him out before you can really move forward.”

She gave him a small, grateful smile, though her heart felt heavy. “I’ll think about it, Max. I really will. But for now… let’s just have a good night, okay?”

Later, when she got home, she found herself replaying Max’s words.

What if I don’t want you to?

Lando’s voice from that night echoed painfully in her mind. She’d loved him once, but now… she didn’t know what she felt.

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

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yourusername the city that keeps the roof blazing

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

francisca.cgomes i need you at more plssss

-> yourusername i'll see how i can manage

lilymhe i missed your cute face

→ yourusername I MISSED YOURS

maxfretwell since when were you here?

-> yourusername idk 🤷

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍

-> yourusername LEO WAS SO CUTE

user1 Y/NLANDO CONTENT PLEASE 🙏

user2 OMG SHES AT A GPPPPPP

user3 grabbing at scraps atp

user4 LANDO WIN?

-> user5 i mean shes his lucky charm so..

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

The atmosphere was electric as Y/n made her way across the paddock. It had been so long yet felt as though no time had past since her last race. She kept her head low, hidden under one of Landos old caps he had given her as she found Max and stood next to him. The pair watching the chaos of the grid unfold in silence. Y/n couldn't help but have her eyes drawn to where Lando was standing, he looked good. Max cleared his throat and she diverted her gaze quickly.

Then, as if he could sense her presence, Lando turned around eyes darting until they locked onto her figure. His eyes soften, full of many emotions and it seemed as though all the tension that was built up in him disappeared.

"Lando." Someone calls and then the moment ends, as quickly as it had started. As he made his way over to his car, Y/n forced her gaze away, a feeling of longing and heartache in her chest.

Y/ns heart swells with pride as she watches Lando claim victory. A bright smile appears on her face and she claps her hands together, before stopping herself. As the team rushes to greet Lando, she watches him bask in the glory of his win, a grin stretching across his face as he’s showered in cheers and applause.

When he steps off the podium, champagne soaked and still radiant with exhilaration, their eyes met across the crowd once again. This time, theres an unspoken acknowledgment, a silent thank you really, for being there, even if it is in the background.

As she turned to leave, Y/ns head was reeling, feeling both pride and bittersweetness. Today wasn't just a victory for him, but a quiet triumph for Y/n too.

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfretwell and 7, 942, 293 others

yourusername gala tonight

francisca.cgomes HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT

-> yourusernameI LOVE YOU

maxfretwell you look like shit

-> yourusername i hate you so much

alexandrasaintmleux YOUR GORGEOUS MY LOV

-> yourusername AHHHHHHHHHHH

landonorris you look great

user1 LANDO COMMENTED OMFGGG

user2 MOOD: FREAKING OUT

user3 EATING UP ALL THE CRUMBS

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

The room glittered under the chandelier, polite chatter filling the room. Y/n smoothed down the fabric of her gown, trying to focus on anything but the pair of familiar blue eyes watching her from across the room. Lando looked devastatingly handsome in his tailored black tuxedo, his tie slightly loosened as if he’d already grown restless.

She spent the night avoiding him, moving between conversations and photos, but she could still feel his gaze heavy on her. Y/n found herself lost in thought as she took a sip from her champagne.

“May I have this dance?” His voice startled her, smooth and familiar as he appeared at her side.

Y/n hesitated, her champagne flute trembling slightly in her hand. “Lando…”

“Please, Y/n,” he whispered, his tone softer now, begging almost. “Just one dance.”

Against her better judgment, she nodded. He led her to the dance floor, his hand warm and firm against the small of her back. The music was slow, Y/n smiled at the familiar sound of Taylor Swift and found herself relaxing a little bit.

“Why are you here?” she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the music.

“Because you are,” Lando replied, his eyes locked on hers. “And because I can’t keep pretending I don’t care anymore.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, all the noise and chaos of the gala faded away. They were just Y/n and Lando, two people who had shared too much history to be strangers but too much heartbreak to find their footing again.

“I—” she started, but her words were lost as Lando’s hand tightened slightly on her waist, pulling her closer.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel it,” he murmured, his forehead nearly brushing hers.

Y/n swallowed hard. She felt it, of course she did, the way her heart raced, the way his touch ignited every nerve in her body. But it was complicated. It was always complicated.

As the song swelled, his lips hovered dangerously close to hers. She tilted her head slightly, her body betraying her better judgment, and for one reckless, fleeting moment, she thought she might give in.

“Y/n! Lando!” A sharp voice cut through the haze, and they jerked apart as Pierre's familiar face appeared.

Y/n stepped back abruptly, the spell broken. “I...I can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice trembling as she turned on her heel and walked away.

Lando stood frozen on the dance floor, watching her retreat into the crowd, his heart sinking as he realized she wasn’t ready to let him in. Not yet.

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yourusername paris ✅ where to next?

alexandrasaintmleux monaco?

-> yourusername i think we can figure something out

maxfretwell come home?

-> yourusername aww you miss me???

-> maxfretwell no i miss your cooking

landonorris was it fun??

-> user1 HELP NORIZZ STRIKES AGAIN

-> user2 hes so awkward HELP

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

The buzz of her phone jolted Y/n from her daze. She reached for it, her fingers trembling ever so lightly when she saw the name flashing on the screen.

Lando Norris.

She hesitated. It had been months since the gala in Miami, and wounds from the past were still fresh. Yet, she was compelled to swipe and answer, whether it was out of curiosity or something deeper.

“Hello?”

“Y/n.” His voice was softer than she expected, tinged with something she couldn’t quite place. “Hey.”

“Lando,” she said cautiously. “What’s going on?”

There was a beat of silence before he exhaled sharply. “I...uh, I had a rough race today,” he admitted, his vulnerability catching her off guard. “And I just… I don’t know. I thought of you.”

Her heart twisted at his honesty, but she forced herself to keep her tone steady. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, though the strain in his voice betrayed him. “It’s just… you always knew how to make things feel less heavy, you know? I miss that.”

Y/n swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. The conversation teetered on dangerous ground, pulling at memories she wasn’t ready to confront.

“Look,” he continued, breaking the silence. “I know things between us are… complicated. But the British Grand Prix is next weekend, and it’s a big deal for me. I’d really like it if you came.”

Her breath hitched. “Lando…”

“No pressure,” he added quickly, sensing her hesitation. “I just thought… maybe it could be a step. A chance to figure things out. Or even just to see each other without… everything else in the way.”

Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of his words settling in her chest. She wanted to say no, to protect herself from the whirlwind he always seemed to bring into her life. But a part of her - a small, stubborn part - wanted to see him again, to believe that maybe this time could be different.

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

The relief in his voice was palpable. “Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. Really.”

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yourusername a quick pit stop in silverstone

francisca.cgomes WIFEY IN THE PADDOCK

-> yourusername you know it

alexandrasaintmleux papaya has always been your colour

-> yourusername 🧡🧡

landonorris it was nice to see you today y/n.

-> yourusername great to see you too Lando!!!

-> charlesleclerc WHATTTTT

-> user1 bros as flabbergasted as the rest of us

user2 maybe he's not lando norizz afterall

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

Once again, Y/n found herself walking through the paddock, unconsciously smiling at the familiarity of it all.

She found him leaning against the McLaren hospitality building, his race suit tied around his waist, his hair disheveled from the helmet. He looked like the Lando she used to know—soft, nervous, and so heartbreakingly familiar.

“Hey,” he said, straightening when he saw her.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice careful, guarded.

“Can we talk?” he asked, motioning toward a quieter area behind the building. She hesitated, but nodded, following him.

They stopped near a secluded spot overlooking the track, the distant roar of engines filling the silence between them. Lando turned to her, his eyes searching hers for some semblance of forgiveness.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “For years, I’ve been an idiot. I didn’t know what I had with you until I lost it.”

Y/n crossed her arms, trying to keep her composure. “Lando…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his tone desperate. “I was scared. I thought if I kept things as they were, I wouldn’t mess it up. But I messed it up anyway. I pushed you away, and I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/n. For everything.”

She looked at him, her walls slowly crumbling as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You really hurt me, Lando. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

He stepped closer, his voice trembling. “You were always worth fighting for. I just didn’t realize how much until it was too late. I don’t want it to be too late anymore.”

Y/n felt tears prick at her eyes. She hated how much she still cared, how much she wanted to believe him. “Why now? Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you,” he said simply. “Every race, every win, every moment, I think about you. I want you in my life, Y/n. However you’ll let me.”

Silence stretched between them as she looked away, her emotions warring within her. Finally, she let out a shaky breath. “Lando… I don’t know if it’s that easy. There’s so much history between us, so much pain.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But maybe we can start over. Take things slow. Just… let me prove to you that I’m serious this time.”

Y/n hesitated, then nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay. But I need time.”

Lando’s face lit up with a cautious, hopeful smile. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

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yourusername some flics from summer

tagged: francisca.c.gomes

francisca.cgomes OMG STUNNER

-> yourusername SAYSS YOUUUUU

alexandrasaintmleux gorgg gorgg gorggg

-> yourusername try looking in a mirror

yourbsf my fav girll

-> yourusername love love love youuuuu

user1 THE SOFT LAUNCH

user2 no lando comment i fear we're doomed

user3 landoy/n truthers how are we feeling

-> user4 NOT GREAT.....

---------

Y/n wasn't sure how it had really begun, but after Silverstone her and Lando found themselves spending more and more time together, their friendship quickly turning to more.

One Saturday afternoon they found themselves walking down to the beach. Once they reached the destination, the pair collapsed, out of breath from running around like total idiots.

Lando nudged her with his shoulder. “Remember when we used to do this when we were younger? You were always faster than me, but I swear I was the better strategist.”

Y/n laughed softly, leaning into him. “You’re right, you did always find a way to cheat your way to victory.”

Lando pretended to look offended. “Cheat? I was simply using my superior intellect to my advantage.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Sure, Lan. Keep telling yourself that.”

One evening, they decided to take a road trip up the coast. They didn't make any exact plans, just wanted to drive. The windows were down, the cool air rushing in as their music played through the car speakers. The pair decided to stop to watch the sunset, Lando using his camera to take photos of the sunset. Y/n stood next to him, watching the colours change across the sky.

"The view is amazing." Y/n said, smiling softly as she watched the sun disappear further and further into the water.

"It really is." Lando murmured, taking in the way Y/ns face was illuminated by the sunset, making her look angelic. Y/n turned to see him already staring and couldn't help but feel herself blush under hist intense gaze.

“Thank you for this,” Y/n said softly, her voice carrying the weight of all the unspoken words. “For showing up when I needed you most.”

Lando lowered the camera, his hand gently brushing against hers. “I’m not going anywhere this time, Y/n. I’m here for as long as you’ll let me be.”

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

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yourusername back in Spa

tagged: francisca.cgomes

francisca.cgomes its honestly unfair for you to be that gorgeous

-> yourusername STAWP IT

maxfretwell nothing just you staking me

-> yourusername stalking is WILD

user1 no lando like or anything :(

user2 in the trenches right now

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

Y/n had always loved Spa, it was the first grand prix she ever attended, but today, something felt off. Whatever it was, it was making her anxious, causing her to pull back from Lando more than she would have liked.

It started when Lando and her arrived at the track. Lando was excited, practically bouncing with energy and had started rambling excitedly. Y/n however was feeling closed off, distant, something which Lando noticed immediately. He knew how to read Y/n, so he could tell when she wasn't herself. When they walked together toward the paddock, the silence between them grew heavier with every step.

"Y/n, what’s going on?" Lando asked, his voice laced with concern as they stopped by the track’s edge. She hesitated for a moment, looking out at the cars zooming by. Her mind was racing, filled with doubts she didn’t know how to articulate.

“I just… I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This, us, it feels like it’s moving too fast. I’m not sure I can keep up with it anymore.”

Lando’s brows furrowed, and his heart sank. “What do you mean? I thought we were-”

“I don’t know what I thought,” she interrupted, turning away slightly. “It feels like we’re stuck in the same cycle, and every time I think we’ve moved forward, we just fall back into the same old pattern. It’s like… like I’m always waiting for the next mistake.” She rubbed her eyes, feeling the weight of her frustration.

Lando opened his mouth to respond, but Y/n shook her head, cutting him off. "I don’t want to fight, Lando, but I just need some space to figure things out."

His chest tightened as he watched her, her words cutting deeper than he expected. He couldn't say he was completely surprised though, the uncertainty which had haunted them before now seemed to pull them apart all over again.

“Y/n… Please. Don’t shut me out.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, but Y/n could hear the vulnerability in it.

She looked at him, a conflicted expression on her face. She wanted to reach out, wanted to say that everything would be okay, but the doubt swirling inside her made it hard. "I just need some time, Lando," she said quietly. "I need to think."

With that, she turned away, walking towards the paddock, leaving Lando standing there, his heart heavy. He didn’t know what to do or how to fix it. This time, it felt like they were both on the edge of something, and if they didn’t take a step back, they might both fall.

The rest of the weekend was a blur. Y/n kept her distance from Lando, spending most of the time with Alex and Kika and staying away from the constant tension in the air. The moment that should have been about racing and the thrill of competition was now overshadowed by the uncertainty hanging between them.

For Lando, the race itself was a blur. His thoughts kept drifting to Y/n, wondering if he had pushed too hard, said the wrong thing. He knew he had to respect her space, but the silence between them hurt more than he expected.

By the time the race weekend ended, both of them were left feeling raw and uncertain. Y/n was overwhelmed, caught between her fear of falling into the same patterns and her desire to be with him. And Lando? He was left to wonder if it was too late, if the distance between them now was one they couldn’t bridge.

It wasn’t the end, but it sure felt like one, one that left both of them wondering where they went wrong.

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

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yourusername its been a good day :)

lilymhe care to explain further??

-> yourusername call and ill tell you gorg girl

-> user1 what i'd give to know what they talk about

maxfretwell nah you're doing too much

-> yourusername can you stop stalking my feed for once

francisca.cgomes motherrrrr

-> yourusername STOPPPP

-> user2 and father?????

user3 i love how none of them have even acknowledged the fact that their is a man there

user4 call me crazy but i feel like that might be lando??

-> user5 i fear youre on your own with that one

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

It was late August, and Y/n found her self on vacation in Italy, trying to catch her breath after the whirlwind of the past couple of months. The tension with Lando at Spa still lingered in her mind, making her question everything. She wanted to move forward, but fear kept holding her back. She didn’t know if Lando could truly understand what she needed, or if she could even put it into words.

As Y/n was bed rotting in her hotel, her phone dinged with a message from Lily.

Hey, I need a favor! Can you meet me at the marina? 3 PM sharp. Promise it’ll be worth it.

Y/n hesitated, glancing at the time. She didn’t have much planned for the day and figured a distraction might be good for her. "Alright, why not?" she muttered, grabbing her bag and heading out.

When she arrived, Lily was nowhere to be found. Instead, she was greeted by a deckhand who handed her a note with Lando’s unmistakable scrawl.

Come aboard, love. Let me show you something.

Y/n sighed, suspicion and curiosity warring in her chest. She debated turning around but, against her better judgment, stepped onto the yacht.

The moment she was aboard, the crew set the yacht into motion, gliding smoothly out into the glittering blue waters of the Mediterranean. Y/n frowned, looking around for any sign of Lando.

“Seriously, Lando?” she muttered under her breath.

It wasn’t until the yacht had anchored near a quiet, secluded cove that he appeared, stepping onto the deck with an almost sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“Lando…” she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“Before you say anything, just… let me talk.” He gestured for her to sit, and she reluctantly did, watching as he fidgeted nervously before taking a seat across from her.

“Y/n, I know I’ve messed up. I know I’ve hurt you, more than once. But I also know I don’t want to lose you again. Not now, not ever.” His voice was steady, but she could see the raw emotion in his eyes.

“Lando, it’s not that simple,” she replied, her voice quieter than she expected.

“I know it’s not,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “That’s why I wanted to do this. To show you that I’m serious. That I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”

She glanced around, taking in the serene beauty of the cove, the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the yacht, the soft music playing in the background. It was a scene straight out of a dream, but it was also so Lando - grand, romantic, and slightly over the top.

“Lily was in on this, wasn’t she?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Guilty,” he admitted with a small laugh. “I needed backup to make sure you actually showed up.”

Y/n smiled at this, stifling a laugh.

“Look, Y/n, I know I can’t erase the past. But I want to build a future with you - a real one. No games, no misunderstandings, no half measures. Just us, figuring it out together.”

The sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten. She wanted to believe him, to trust that this time would be different.

“I don’t know, Lando,” she said after a long pause. “What if we mess it up again?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said without hesitation. “Together. I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.”

Y/n stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all she saw was determination.

“I can’t promise I won’t get scared,” she admitted.

“Then I’ll remind you why we’re worth it,” he said with a soft smile, reaching out to take her hand.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/n felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could finally get it right. She squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, Norris. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

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

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yourusername wasnt exactly how i thought today would go but im not complaining. lando my bestfriend, i have never been more proud of you than today, congrats on your win and the constructors championship my love xx.

tagged: landonorris

lilymhe YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTEEE

-> yourusername STOP STOP STOP

ybsf yeah friends my ass

-> francisca.cgomes RIGHT????

alexandrasaintmleux FINALLY! do you know how hard its been to keep this secret

-> yourusername IM SORRYYYY

maxfretwell MY EYES??? NEVER GOING TO RECOVER

-> yourusername i thought you were supposed to be older than 5

landonorris never would've been possible without you

-> yourusername im always gonna be by yourside lan xx

-> user1 currently sobbing

user2 when i tell you i SCREAMED

user3 HE WAS THE MYSTERY GUY

user4 i was right and you can all suck it #y/nlandotrutherforlife

-> user5 you were right. i owe you an apology.

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

The atmosphere at Yas Marina Circut was electric as Lando crossed the finish line, securing another win and the constructors championship for McLaren. The McLaren garage erupted in cheers at a 1-2 podium, people hugging and cheering.

Y/n stood in the VIP area, her heart pounding with pride and excitement before she made her way out with the rest of team. As he climbed out of the car, arms raised in triumph, she couldn’t help but feel her own emotions bubbling to the surface.

Lando sprinted toward his team, embracing them but he quickly pulled away when he spotted her. He began weaving through the crowd, and before Y/n could fully process what was happening, he was right in front of her.

Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet as she laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. And then, with the entire paddock watching, Lando kissed her. It wasn’t just any kiss- it was passionate, raw, and full of everything they’d been through to get to this moment.

The crowd around them erupted in cheers, camera flashes capturing the moment as it played out on the big screens around the circuit. Y/n could hear people losing their minds in the background, but none of it mattered. In that moment, it was just them.

When they finally pulled apart, Lando pressed his forehead to hers, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I told you we’d figure it out together,” he whispered, his voice just loud enough for her to hear over the noise.

Y/n chuckled, wiping a tear from her cheek. “You did, and I’m so proud of you. You deserve this, Lando.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “We deserve this,” he corrected, pulling her close again as the crowd around them roared louder.

That night, as the celebrations continued, Y/n and Lando stole away for a quiet moment on the balcony of his hotel room. The city lights twinkled below, and Lando, still wearing his racing suit, wrapped an arm around her waist.

“This feels like a dream,” Y/n said softly, leaning into him.

“It’s not,” Lando replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s just the beginning.”

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

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yourusername i guess this is a full circle moment

tagged: landonorris, flo_norris_showjumping

landonorris 🧡🧡

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after literal months pt 2 is finally up. sorry it took so long but i felt like i had to do it justice and give you guys a good pt 2 and not a half assed one. but here it is an i hope you enjoyed it. thanks everyone for all of the support i got :)

@f1fantasys @saachiep81 @tini5 @melrosaeparker @styl1shl1v @ilivbullyingjeongin @saachiep81 @chloeannabelle @sleutherclaw

#formula1 #f1 masterlist #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst

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sirfrogsworth · 2 months ago

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Clinging to sanity

Summary of this post...

My brain is broken. My A/C is broken. My phone is broken. My computer is broken. My support system is broken. My financial stability is broken. My family is broken.

And the big finale...

Please give Froggie a Yelp review to repair his relationship with his estranged uncles.

Seriously, I need a whole bunch of you to say nice things about me in a convoluted plan to get back the money my brother stole from my dying father.

If you don't feel like reading all of my broken stuff and just want to read about giving me a good review as a person, you can skip to the bullet point list at the end.

Alright, here we go...

I sometimes get in these states where I feel like my sanity is compromised. My mental defenses are minimal and I lose the filter on my brain that tells me "this is a good idea" or "this is a bad idea."

This causes me to say embarrassing things. I overshare with strangers. I keep myself from falling asleep because I have some amazing idea. But when I wake up in the morning I can't believe I lost all of that sleep for such a ridiculous idea. I write weird posts that no one likes. Or I post about controversial subjects like A.I. and trans people and RFK Jr. that I *know* will result in contentious feedback.

And my insane brain says, "You can handle it! Besides, you are so factually correct about this, no one will dare question your meticulous research. IT'S ALL GOOD! SEND IT, YOLO!"

I have a rule. If I am not emotionally or mentally prepared to defend my point of view on a controversial subject, I should wait until I am ready to publish.

Insane Froggie Brain ignores this rule.

After I "send it" and the negative feedback starts to flow in (even though I was assured by my brain it wouldn't), I become afraid to look at messages and replies and reblogs. And a lot of times I need that sense of community. I need to talk to my cool little community so I don't feel lonely. But Insane Froggie Brain cuts me off from that. I give myself all of this anxiety that could have been avoided by just posting another time.

And because I have no emotional defenses, that anxiety is amplified. Mean comments hurt much more. I obsess over them and my OCD causes thought feedback loops where I cannot get something out of my brain. I once couldn't sleep for a weekend because someone said I was wrong about how light reflects off the moon. They were right and I was also right but they said I was "misleading." And that just lived in my brain for days. I kept trying to think of new ways to better explain my point of view. I used up energy I didn't really have to take pictures of a baseball in a dark closet.

It was silly. It didn't matter. It was just a small disagreement. But OCD doesn't do small. OCD makes everything BIG.

What I'm trying to say is...

People need their emotional defenses.

People need their filters.

It's weird because I still have full access to my logical brain. So sane thoughts get all mixed in with the less sane ones. Sometimes I am self aware and can shut down the less sane ideas. Other times I am oblivious. And I *hate* losing control of my brain in any way. It's one of the reasons I've never touched alcohol. Which is why I get very disturbed when this happens.

I remember one time I was positive I was going to move to Florida and start a pet photography business. I had an entire business plan worked out where I trained people how to take the photos so the business could run itself if I got sick. I made an entire PowerPoint presentation to show Katrina so she would be my business partner. I was looking up rent prices for office space. I was making equipment lists for camera gear. She was going on a trip so she told me I could talk to her about it when she returned. And I am so lucky she wasn't available at the time.

Maybe if I had a normal person's energy, I could make something like that work. But once I returned to sanity, I realized it was orders of magnitude more complicated than anything I was actually capable of doing. I am still planning to do pet photography, but I have to come up with a more reasonable plan that does not involve Insane Froggie Brain.

I think it is just my ambitious mind trying to escape. Chronic illness is often heartbreaking because you have to temper all of your ambitions. And it is especially devastating when you are a very ambitious person, as I am.

I want to have all of these big ideas. But I have to filter them through reality. And when that filter is broken, I just unleash big ideas on all my friends. I once even held an official video chat meeting and we took notes and made plans. And I feel so guilty I wasted 4 people's time like that. None of those ideas happened. They had no chance of happening with my energy levels. But my friends and collaborators still did the meeting and nodded along like everything was fine. I appreciate them humoring me.

I also overshare. I overshare normally, but when I get like this I OVER SHARE. You are probably going to witness it in this very post. But I tell everyone everything about what is going on. I tell strangers. I tell a dog walking by.

"Hey doggie, my testosterone is returning and I'm struggling with having a libido again. I know most people would not complain, but it is very disruptive to my day! I have other things I want to do!"

Right now I am just not confident in anything I think or do. I wrote a post about social constructs yesterday. That literally took me all day to write. I was endlessly tweaking it and I thought it was going to be viral and helpful and win the trans debate for everyone.

It currently has 49 notes.

I'm afraid I did not fix trans rights.

Sorry about that.

And my rant about Christopher Nolan using IMAX is doing pretty well. I nerded out about film grain for like 2 paragraphs and it is getting way more notes than a philosophical perspective on constructs.

I just have no idea what people are going to like and I used to be pretty good at judging that. It's like I'm throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks but instead of a wall I'm throwing it into the void. The spaghetti just disappears into infinite darkness.

I'm clearly still recovering from the big house clean with Katrina. And I am more tired than normal. But I am also very stressed about losing the house. I'm trying to figure it out, but I may only have until the end of June before I have to make some scary decisions.

And also, my air conditioner is not working. It has a leaky evaporator. Last year, I had it recharged and that lasted the entire summer. If the leak is leaking at the same rate, I could just do that again. It would be expensive, but replacing the evaporator is so costly, I'd be better off getting a heat pump installed. I'm a good candidate, it could save me money in the long run, but I am nowhere near in a position to make that happen.

Also, my phone is falling apart.

Literally. The only thing keeping it together is the phone case.

And this laptop, which I love, was not meant to be my main computer. I bought it when my dad was sick and I needed something upstairs to manage his prescriptions and bills and appointments. It wasn't meant to be an image editing machine. And, to their credit, Apple has made a crazy powerful little computer. I admit it, I love an Apple product. It can handle way more than expected. But my photo restorations can sometimes end up with 5 gigabyte files. I can't even save them as PSDs. I have to use this weird "PSB" format. It stands for "Photoshop Big." When I fill up the RAM, my computer uses the main SSD. And when I fill that up, I think I can hear the laptop crying and saying, "I wasn't meant for this! Please use fewer layers!"

But I need to finish restoring these photos because I have delayed their completion by about 5 months (got sick before I could finish). And also because I need to pay for the A/C recharge.

You might be thinking, "Didn't you fundraise to get the big fancy powerful computer of your dreams a few years ago? Why don't you use that?"

My big fancy computer has been broken almost since I got it.

It was right before my mom got really sick and there is a major hardware problem. I worked with tech support for over a month and we could not figure out what the issue was. The computer is mostly unusable. Like, "can't even web browse" unusable.

It honestly has caused me so much depression. Like deep, deep, crying-myself-to-sleep-for-weeks depression. I still cry about it. I know it is just a thing, but I am genuinely heartbroken about it.

Why haven't I fixed it? I'm a good computer fixer, right?

Once I had to take care of my parents, I just did not have any extra energy to deal with it. After a month of back-and-forth emails from the manufacturer, I finally told them, "I'm sorry, my parents are sick. I will email you when I have the energy to revisit this."

If you know my story and how I took care of my parents all alone because I have a neglectful brother, then you can probably guess that energy never came.

I am good at tech support. I have been an expert in computers since I was a teenager. I have taken apart and built computers more times than I can count. I have never had a problem this frustrating before. It works fine for a few hours, and then it just progressively slows down to being unusable. I narrowed the issue to either the SSD, the CPU, or the motherboard. All things that are not easy to replace. (The SSD is behind the damn GPU.)

In the 30s, the Royal Air Force used to have issues with their planes that baffled them. This is where the term "gremlin" came from. No matter what they did, no matter how many parts they replaced, they could not get the "gremlin" out of the plane. These were professional mechanics who just could not fix something and it drove them nuts.

I have a computer gremlin. I've never experienced anything like it in all of my years of fixing computers. I was working with professional tech support people. I was on reddit forums. And the only thing left to do was start swapping out parts. I'd work on it maybe an hour each day with whatever energy I had and it eventually was too much. I just could not deal with it. They told me to send it back, but I could not take care of my parents without any access to a computer. So I just rebooted it every time I used it.

At that point, my parents were requiring 24/7 care and I was so overwhelmed that I said, "fuck it" and ordered this laptop. I figured I'd fix the computer when I had time or energy. But that time and energy never came. And I certainly didn't have the energy to haul a 60 pound computer upstairs, box it up, and then take it to UPS. So I just kept putting it off and putting it off.

And I let the warranty expire.

When I realized I did that, I cried myself to sleep for another few weeks. This material object has caused me legitimate emotional trauma.

Any part replacements are now on me. And there isn't really any way of knowing which part is faulty. I figured I'd buy a cheap SSD and start there.

I feel so fucking guilty because people donated money for me to have that machine. I feel like I let them all down by not getting it fixed. When I finish my recovery, I'm hoping I can sort it out. But that could be many months from now.

Recovery has been such a dark, lonely place. Trying to restore my health a millimeter at a time is a grueling marathon of misery. I have been struggling to keep Insane Froggie Brain at bay this entire time.

I felt like I was stuck in a hole.

And like a superhero with the power of friendship and puns, Katrina pulled me out of the giant hole I was in. My house turned into a biohazard. She flew from Florida to essentially clean and organize everything. How do you even begin to thank someone for that?

But also, she shouldn't have had to do that. I have a perfectly functional brother. But he hasn't spoken to me for nearly a year now.

I have other family in town. But I missed so many family gatherings over the years, they don't really know me. None of them have called. I'd have to rebuild those relationships if I want them to be a part of my life again.

And I haven't talked about this yet because it has been too painful.

But... my support system fell apart.

My aunt had to move away to take care of her father-in-law. A year before my mom passed she took care of my grandma as her end-of-life caregiver. And people should only have to do that once. But she has to do it again, and unfortunately, we haven't been able to speak much.

We were very good at keeping in touch in real life. But she is of an older generation and has trouble maintaining relationships on a smartphone. I mean, I get it. Some people are just better at meatspace than cyberspace. That was actually one of the things I liked about our bond. Almost all of my friendships are online. Having someone who liked to visit me and talk to me in person was special.

But, for the time being, I lost that. And it feels a bit like temporarily losing another parent.

I am struggling to even start writing the words for this next part.

I had two best friends. Katrina and I are great. Our friendship is probably better than it has ever been.

But my other best friend of nearly 15 years ghosted me without explanation.

I haven't talked about it because it has been too hard. Any time I try to think about it I get upset. My eyes are filling up with tears as I type this.

I have been pretending like it isn't happening.

Which is not working great.

I've been trying to hire a therapist.

They all have months-long waiting lists.

My friend just stopped talking to me and I don't know why.

They went from driving across the country and holding my hand at my dad's funeral to just not being a part of my life.

I'm so scared I said something terrible or did something terrible. I keep going through all of my memories trying to figure out what I could have done. But we had the kind of friendship where we'd talk about that stuff. If I screw up, they would tell me. We'd work it out.

This person who was in my life nearly every week for over a decade is just not there anymore. I keep losing people and I can't make it stop. And I am really worried that I am leaning on Katrina too much. She went from being part of a multifaceted support system to my entire support system. That isn't fair to her.

She has been very understanding. And she knows I am going to rebuild a support system as soon as I am able. But I don't want to overwhelm her and lose her too.

Weaning off this medication and living with no testosterone has been so miserable and she has been the only one helping me through it.

I'm doing so well with my recovery. I think I can be off the meds in 3 months and hopefully my testosterone will be fully back in range. I'm already more productive than I have been in nearly 8 months.

But I have 1 month of financial runway left and I am not going to get well enough before then.

Everything happens all at once. Every single time. And usually terrible things happen in my life at the same time terrible things happen in Katrina's life. She had terrible mold that destroyed her health for months. Thankfully it did not turn her transphobic, but it sure fucked her health for a while. She made all of this progress getting fit and healthy and BAM, the universe says, "You are doing too well, you need a challenge!"

So, what is my plan?

I am a problem solver and I have some doozies to solve.

Right now I am going to appeal to the family patriarchs on my dad's side. On his literal deathbed, my dad asked his brothers to "take care of me" and I am going to attempt to call in that favor.

I am going to ask them to talk to my brother and hopefully mediate a solution regarding the stolen inheritance. I want them to convince my brother to do the right thing and return the money he took from my dad.

Sorry, the money he "legally inherited" due to his wife "reinterpreting my dad's wishes" in the will.

Before you ask, I have no options to fight this in court. A verbal promise is not enough to overturn a written will. And the cost of fighting would be more than the inheritance. Please don't suggest any legal advice. I've talked to good lawyers. And unless I want to sue for emotional distress, there aren't any legal options available.

The best option is to appeal to my brother personally and ask him to keep his promise to my dad.

The only reason I am in this mess is because my brother repeatedly promised to give me the money. He said he didn't want it on multiple occasions. So all of my plans involved the expectation of this money. I was going to fix up the basement apartment and seek a roommate.

But it took over a year to just get it out of probate. A year I could have used to come up with other solutions. But he waited until the last minute and made his lawyer tell me he was screwing me.

I'm sure my brother will argue my dad knew what he was signing. But I know that is impossible. Before my dad passed, we were in the hospital and I saw the will for the first time. I asked him if it reflected his wishes. And I asked him if he meant to include my brother's wife in the will.

His response was, "Are you fucking kidding me???"

Readers, does that sound like a man that knew what was in his will?

Dad was so upset that he was about to have them cut off his leg just so he could live a few more weeks and fix the will.

You have to give my dad credit, he goes pretty hardcore when it comes to protecting his family.

I couldn't let him go through an amputation to protect me from my brother's shenanigans.

But I am pretty screwed now.

That said, my uncles are pretty hardcore too. One is *very* intimidating. So I feel like my uncles talking to my brother might carry some weight.

But I have one problem...

I mean, aside from the myriad problems already described.

How about... I have one additional problem...

My uncles don't like me very much.

They think I am a basement-dwelling loser who is faking his illness and was taking advantage of his parents for two decades.

One uncle even accused me of stealing from my dad.

They are protective of their brother. They loved my dad. Which is a good thing! As long as I can convince them that their assumptions about me are invalid, I think their love for my dad will compel them to help me.

They just don't have the context. They don't know me. They live in far-off lands. And due to some unfortunate timing, one uncle saw me at one of the lowest points of my life. This was maybe 8 years ago? He didn't realize I was thrown into the deep end and very recently took on the role as full-time caregiver for two very sick people.

My awful strategy at the time was "if I don't take care of myself, I'll have more energy to take care of my parents." If you are a caregiver, this is a bad strategy. It seems obvious you have to do some self care to give care to others, but when you are just starting out, that seems impossible.

My uncle showed up unannounced and I wasn't showered, I hadn't brushed my teeth in a week, and my room had a fun layer of trash on the floor. The trash can was overflowing and I literally did not have the spare energy to change the bag.

To make matters worse, my mom's medications and constant pain had broken the filter in her brain that prevents her from saying mean things. She was on this crazy chemo-like infusion that was basically using poison to fight her psoriatic arthritis. Her aggressive, blunt remarks were not her fault. That wasn't who she was. But she could not stop herself from saying hurtful things.

The kindest woman alive was suddenly Don Rickles without the "just kidding" subtext. And my uncle didn't know this and I got into an argument with my mom.

I probably looked like a pampered brat loser who just lies in bed and plays video games all day while arguing with his saint of a mother.

I don't blame him. Without context, that's exactly what it looked like.

So I am writing my uncles a letter.

It is essentially a memoir of the caregiving I gave to my parents. I hope to publish it publicly at some point, but right now it is just a letter to them. If it were a typical hardcover book, it would be about 70 pages long.

I am telling them everything.

If nothing else, I just need them to know my dad's story. I need them to know he was well taken care of. That I did everything humanly possible to make his last year as comfortable as I could. I need them to know he was *never* alone.

Sadly, because they probably think I am an unreliable narrator, I am my own worst witness. So I am asking 3 people in my current support system to write testimony to verify everything in my memoir is accurate. I even have a doctor's note!

It is probably insane to put this much effort into convincing my uncles to like me. But I'm pretty sure Sane Froggie Brain is behind the wheel of this endeavor. Sometimes the craziest, most desperate idea is the only option left.

Basically I am using my writing skills to try and save my Froggie butt.

I don't mean to be braggadocious, but people perusing my prose persistently pontificate that I am proficient at penning pleasing passages.

People say I write good sometimes.

And I think this memoir letter thingie is the best thing I've ever written. So I am hopeful I will deflate these dubious assumptions and tug on my uncles' heartstrings.

But there is something you all can do to help me.

A friend on tumblr is helping me edit this memoir monstrosity. And she gave me her testimonial to add to my 3 witnesses.

"I have been following The Frogman for well over a decade on his website. It was years before I learned his name was Benjamin! We all just call him Froggy. He was (and still is) one of the funniest internet guys out there. He is incredibly skilled at putting together humorous GIFs and photo sets, and his comedic writing is second to none. He regularly goes viral. Along with that, he was open and vulnerable about the toll CFS takes on him. I can attest to many folks over the years telling him that he has helped them as they dealt with their own health issues. He is so knowledgeable about so much--his posts are famous for being long, detailed, and wildly informative. And most of all, entertaining. They are a joy to read. We also followed along on his heartbreaking journey with his parents. He shared so much of them with us over the years that they felt like people we knew. It was so clear, from his long absences, how much he was doing for them. Our hearts broke when he told us his parents were no longer with us. Froggy has fans, and so did his parents. Otis, too. We love and support him and will always wish him the best."

It made me cry.

But it also felt like getting a Yelp review on... my entire deal.

And it gave me an idea.

What if I had a bunch of these as optional testimony for my uncles?

I'm not going to force them to read what a bunch of internet strangers have to say. But it could be a compelling way to prove my website antics were a serious attempt to build a livelihood for myself. My uncles were successful businessmen and respect a strong work ethic and trying to make your own way.

I was too early for monetization options like Patreon, TikTok, YouTube, and Twitch, but I ran a very successful comedy blog. If I had my 2013 success in the 2020s, I probably would've been able to retire and live off that for the rest of my life. I have several original GIFs that were downloaded tens of millions of times. Google said one of them was searched for over 100,000,000 times.

My blog was silly, but I took it seriously and I had sponsors and merch and an Otis plush.

They think what I did was like when you are at the family Christmas gathering and you ask your weird cousin what he's been up to and he says, "I run a blog about corgis from my parents' basement."

How do I relate the impact I had? They don't know what "Know Your Meme" is. They don't know what being on the front page of Reddit means. They don't know the amazing community I built. They don't know that I created one of the largest and most generous online support systems one could possibly have. I'm still alive and trying to make a life for myself because all of you continue to love and support me.

I was successful and I worked hard despite my disability.

I just had bad timing with the financial aspect of that success.

So, if you want to leave a Yelp review of The Frogman for my uncles, I'd appreciate it.

I came up with a list of things I need to prove to them. I'm just going to copy/paste the entire thing here. I'll strikethrough the ones you all probably can't speak to.

I am not a basement dwelling loser.

My website was more than a silly hobby.

I did not mooch off my parents for 20+ years.

I did not steal from my parents.

I am not the crazed, awkward mess [my uncle] witnessed.

I am disabled.

I cannot get a job.

I am a good person.

I am a likable person.

I was a good son.

I took good care of my parents.

My parents would not have been better off in a nursing home.

My parents would not have been better off moving closer to my brother.

My brother and his wife neglected and emotionally abused Mom & Dad.

My brother and his wife changed the will to benefit them against my mom & dad’s wishes.

My brother promised repeatedly the will was a mistake and I would receive the full amount.

I did not take care of my parents to “retain the house” or get money.

So, if you want to attempt to convince two elderly conservative Catholic men that my cat memes were lit, I would appreciate the help.

If you’ve been part of this community, and you’ve ever felt like I made you laugh, cry, or feel understood, a short 'review' of me as a person could mean the world.

Just remember your audience is...

Uncle #1: A stoic, but brilliant 80 year old who writes text messages like they are business emails. Complete with "Dear Ben" and "Regards, Your Uncle". He is still very sharp-minded and lucid. He thinks success is a high paying job, a house, and a family (my brother). He does not like weakness and consistently thought I should "be an adult and get a job." He is very loyal and respected my dad very much.

Uncle #2: A 60-something retired grandpa who thinks his constant dad jokes are genuinely funny. He is empathetic, but secretly judgmental. He will act like your best friend even if he doesn't care for you. He is an amazing grandpa. Very involved with his kids and their kids. He keeps every video of them getting a goal in sportsball on his phone. He will help you if you think you deserve to be helped. He is very close with Uncle #1.

So... kinda running the gamut there.

You can reblog this post or leave a reply or send a private message or email me at [email protected]

I will be anonymizing your names for obvious reasons.

I fear my uncles might not understand why Tumblr user "PokemonAssBlaster69" is saying nice things about me.

Explaining "The Frogman" is hard enough.

Anyway, thank you in advance.

#long post #talk about fishing for compliments

200 notes · View notes

vevobly · 1 month ago

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Yellowjackets With Filipino Reader Headcanons! [Peri-crash] (1)

A/N: One of my friend's birthday is coming up pretty soon, so I decided to make this post as a gift to them! There's a translation for everything that the reader says in filipino down in the comments for you guys. Enjoy and devour as always! 😺

Jackie Taylor:

It frustrates her to no end that you’ll mutter something under your breath in Tagalog and smirk after someone annoys you. And she knows it’s about her sometimes. So, she starts asking you what certain words mean. “So what does…‘buwisit’ mean? You called me that earlier.” You tell her it means “beautiful” and she just absolutely believes you. When she finds out that it didn't mean the same thing as you told her it meant from someone else on the team, she confronts you directly about it before storming off pissed as fuck.

Jackie does not know how to take you. I mean, you weren't impressed by her back then. You definitely aren't impressed by her now. You fight—a lot. And one day, she snaps to which you just facepalm and mutter “ang arte mo talaga” to her. “I KNOW that was about me,” she replies, lip curled. You look her dead in the eye and respond. “Yeah! You’re dramatic.” She doesn’t talk to you for a day. Then, when you’re out splitting wood, she just says this. “You’re kind of the only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m useless now.”

After that, she starts being really weirdly too nice towards you. Even more when Shauna was distancing herself from her. She's almost always sharing her food ration with you, brushing it off with confusing stuff like “you’re cold all the time" or "don’t want you freezing to death before I win an argument" etc. She keeps gravitating toward you—watching you peel wood, eavesdropping when you mutter in tagalog. Over time, she starts asking for your help with things but she never phrases it like she needs you at all. You think it's funny somehow and a bit cute.

Shauna Shipman:

You’re the only one who notices when Shauna’s hands tremble after burying someone. And then you're almost always quietly handing her something random to hold, telling her it's something she needs to look after out of nowhere. She's confused, but she nevertheless does just that and never forgets it. She doesn't know when or how exactly it happened, but she starts quietly learning tagalog phrases just to understand you. Especially when you're insulting her for something.

You correct her tagalog when she asks what “pikon” means after hearing you say it to Jackie. “Means sensitive. You are, a little” you say gently to her, and Shauna flushes. One time when you caught her looking guilty after Jackie scolded her for spacing out, you decided to ask her if she was okay. She just nods in response and you frown for a moment before replying with “Hindi ka nag-iisa” - She doesn’t ask you what it means, but she keeps the words in her mind despite it. Shauna is drawn to you like a moth to a flame she swears she won’t touch, and it is BAD.

You teach her a few Tagalog words from time to time. She tries them but messes them up. When she says "maganda ka" to you one day, you freeze - caught completely off guard with it. "Did I say it wrong?" She asks you. "No," you replied quietly. "You just said I'm beautiful.." And that gets her really red in the face while you're all so quiet with her after it. Later? When everyone's asleep, she leans against your shoulder and despite the kinda awkward moment earlier, you don't move away. Neither of you says a word before drifting to sleep.

Taissa Turner:

Tai knows you're swearing when you start talking in tagalog. She doesn’t know what you’re saying, but she knows. She pretends not to care when you say something about her in Tagalog, but she corners Van later and asks her “That thing she said to me today—how bad was it?” When neither Van or anyone else on the team knows what you're saying about her, she starts going out of her way to sit next to you during planning stuff and makes a game of guessing what your words mean.

You guys butt heads early on because while Tai is efficient, you're intuitive. She says you’re “sloppy” once and you haven't stopped calling her “masungit” since then. She admires the way you are, but when you push back on her trying to be a leader for the team? Oh boy, things get tense fast. “We need to follow a system,” she snaps at you one day. “You mean your system,” you reply. You walk away, muttering a curse in tagalog. “You always do that—say shit no one can call you out on!” Taissa shouts. You guys don't talk to each other for days because of it.

But eventually, she corners you and asks her what you said about her. You look at her. “I said I’m tired of being ordered around by people who don’t listen” She doesn't say anything, but the next time she makes a decision? She looks at you first. You both end up becoming the designated planners of the group, and she starts seeking out your opinion before anyone else since then. She asks you to teach her some words once. You don't say yes, but later when you mutter “gago” when Travis does something stupid? She repeats it under her breath with a grin.

Van Palmer:

Van thinks you're hilarious. Even though half the time she doesn't understand what you're saying. When Mari annoyed you once? She whispered “say something in tagalog” to you. You glanced at Mari and muttered “hayop ka” to which Van nearly choked laughing. You make her laugh even when you’re not trying. Especially when you mutter “bahala kayo diyan” and walk away dramatically. She’s the only one you don’t mind translating your curses for on the team because she doesn’t take it personally.

You and her create secret inside jokes about people. Like, if someone’s being annoying? She’ll whisper “banana ketchup” and you’ll both just lose it. Van flirts with you a lot openly. But her flirting is very weird, and confuses you because she just tries to come up with her own fake filipino words just to tease you. One time she accidentally says something real and really vulgar that your jaw dropped. You tell her never to say it in public again. "What? What'd I say?!" She asks you. "I'll tell you if you hold my hand" You replied. "Deal!" But you're both equally weird, tbh.

Van is one of the few who doesn’t get weird when you speak Tagalog. She asks questions and she listens to you about it. “Teach me a swear word,” she begged you once. And you do. But she butchers it badly that you laugh for the first time in days. After that, Van starts sitting closer to you—sharing food, nudging you awake during night watch—you never talk about it. But it feels like something is forming. Or maybe breaking? She gives you dumb nicknames in Tagalog based on what she thinks they mean. “My little... tinapay" You stared at her. "You just called me bread"

Natalie Scatorccio:

You and Nat have this weird unspoken thing. You don't ask about her shit. She doesn't ask about yours. That's the foundation of your relationship with each other. You once threw a knife into a tree after an argument with someone else on the team and muttered “lintek na buhay to” to which she passed you a cigarette without a word. You help her with her hair one day and Natalie practically short circuits. You sit together often. Not talking, but just being close to each other. You don't need her to be soft, and that's what does it for her.

“Next time you wanna say something sweet in tagalog, just whisper it in my ear” She jokes to you after it, and you basically stop working for a moment. She opens up to you in small ways. Tells you about her dad. Her mom. The anger. She doesn’t expect comfort, but you give it anyway. When you mutter in tagalog, she doesn’t ask that much. You asked her why once. “I like it better when I don’t understand,” she replied. “At least I can pretend it’s nice.” You tell her you don't know what to think about that to which she laughs about.

One night, when everyone else is asleep, she tells you "I like hearing you talk, even if I don't get it all. I like how you talk" and then the two of you don't talk for two days after until she gets a cut on her hand and you happened to be the only person available to patch it up for her. "You could be gentler" She winces. "You could be less reckless" You snap back. Her lip quirks and she replies with. "Fair." You flick her head after you finish patching her up. "jusko, ikaw ang ikamamatay ko"

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie watches you more than she speaks to you at first. She doesn’t mean to focus on you, but she does. Before the crash, you guys barely ever interacted with each other unless necessary or because of something like being left alone with each other and so. On a cold morning after a few days since the plane crashed, you lend her a scarf. “Para sayo.” You tell her. She asks what you just said meant, and you can't help but smile. "For you" You answer. After that, she starts being close to you. Doing tasks with you almost more than anyone else on the team.

She learns words like ganda, tanga, and so much more just so she can understand you better. That, and so you'd have someone else to talk to in tagalog even though she wouldn't be able to understand everything you say in it. At least you'd have someone to talk to in your native language, right? She asks you from time to time to teach her a word every day. And surprisingly so, she remembers them. She says “ingat ka” before you go outside the cabin once and you freeze, your mouth agape while you blinked repeatedly to see if you heard what you did correctly at the time.

There's this strange comfort between you, and this really weird thing where you speak in tagalog but she doesn't understand what you said yet she knows exactly what you meant by your words somehow. In the middle of a really cold night when everyone else but you guys are asleep, you whisper “malamig” to yourself. "What does that word mean? " She asks you after. "Cold," You replied. Later, when she lies next to you by the fire, she whispers. "Still cold?" And you feel your cheeks heating up. "Not right now.."

Laura Lee:

Honestly, you surprise her. You're crass, tough, and sometimes harsh but you always say “thank you” when she shares food or water. She's a bit wary of you at first. Not just because you weren't religious, but you also tended to ask her a bunch of questions about her beliefs and so that came off as insensitive and offensive at times. She thought you hated her initially because of it until you caught her crying once and told her how much you admire her will to keep being faithful at times like these before leaving.

Just because of that one moment, Laura Lee has a whole reevaluation about you and starts getting close to you. It begins with the smallest things—being paired up for chores, helping her out now and then, and little shared moments. Though she doesn’t understand anything you say when you curse, she just knows they’re definitely not good. She mostly guesses the meanings of the words you say in tagalog. And if not that, she just asks you. "What does putangina mean?" And you respond with. "It's motherfucker" She gasps, scandalized.

She starts asking you for “non-evil” tagalog phrases, and you teach her the most church appropriate ones like — salamat, mabait ka, and etc. But you also teach her pakyu and lie about the meaning of it. So she says it at Jackie one day, and you lose it. She hears you sing a kundiman one night and thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. “Does god understand me?” You asked her. And she giggles like the question is a bit silly. “God understands all, no matter what language they speak.” Somehow, your cheeks heat up at that.

Misty Quigley:

Misty desperately wants to know what you’re saying all the time. She starts carrying a notebook and tries to phonetically spell out your curses to look them up when you guys get rescued in the future or just to decipher their meanings by herself and in which situations you use them. That, or she just asks you instead. She tries to parrot your insults but always gets the stress wrong. “Pu...ta—gee-na?” She says one day. “That’s not how you say it, Misty. Stop before I call a multo on you.”

You avoid her at first, but she keeps “coincidentally” being wherever you are. One day she tries to help you cook rice wrong and you snap. “You don’t stir the rice! Anong ginagawa mo?!” You shouted at her. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to bond!” She replied, quickly going away. You start calling her makulit, epal, and sira ulo since then. She thinks those are words of endearments, but they're not. One day she gives you a sad look and asks, “Does ‘sira ulo’ mean you like me?” It reminds you of a kicked puppy. “...Sure. Let’s go with that.” You replied.

She eventually finds out that they aren't, and while she's super hurt about it. She just ignores it, because you're nice to her. Although “nice” is a bit subjective though. Misty doesn’t understand boundaries, and while you would love to tell her off immediately, you feel bad for it so you start scolding her in Tagalog—huwag mo kong hawakan, ha? She never gets you, but at least she tries to. She still hovers you, despite of it. One day, she asks. “Would you tell me if you were saying something mean about me?” And you look her in the eye. “No, ” You replied. “But at least you can think what I say to you is nice, right?” It's bad, but it's better than being outright mean to her.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x you #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x you #taissa turner x reader #taissa turner x you #van palmer x reader #van palmer x you #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #laura lee x reader #laura lee x you #misty quigley x reader #misty quigley x you

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audliminal · 10 months ago

Text

It's just a game, right? Pt 2

Masterpost

"It's like. Crazy, y'know?" Bernard's voice echoes in Tim's ears as he fiddles with his mask. "Like, when they started posting, I was kinda meh about it? I mean the first few videos they posted were just like. Basic shitty, scrambled audio, and the first clues were just like, real simple. Basic word replacement stuff; mostly vigenères, right? But now it's- they're using everything! The current drop is. It's layers, man. And I think it's intentional."

"Isn't it supposed to be intentional? I thought that was like, the whole point of an ARG."

"No I mean, like yeah obviously the clues are intentional, but like. The way the difficulty curve is just increasing. When this started it was so easy, but I don't think it was because they like, didn't know what they were doing or anything. Which, cool yeah that makes sense, you want people to buy in before it gets super hard or whatever, but there are, like all these threads that never went anywhere. And everybody kind of wrote them off as red herrings because they didn't seem to fit into the narrative that we had so far, but I can't stop thinking about them, you know?"

"I mean, they could still be red herrings, couldn't they?"

"Well, technically, yeah, but like. Why? It's one thing to have a dead end that maybe calls back to a previous clue or, like, reaffirms some detail from before but having something completely unconnected seems like a weird choice. Especially when the creator keeps telling us to dig deeper."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Tim asks with a laugh.

"No that's the thing!" Bernard's voice goes intense, and Tim momentarily stops putting his mask back together. "Literally every fucking drop those exact words are hidden somewhere in the mess of encryptions, and as things get more complicated, it's showing up more not less. And that together with all the fucking loose details that don't seem to fit in anywhere? I'm literally on the verge of going back to the beginning of the whole thing and solving it from scratch, bc I think we're missing a lot." Tim kind of forgets, sometimes, how similar he and Bernard are, but the in his boyfriend's voice is one he's intimately familiar with. That combination of obsession and frustration - and obviously it's not really serious because like, it's an internet game, but it doesn't matter what the stakes are, being stuck on a puzzle fucking sucks, and he can't exactly patrol what with his broken ankle, so maybe a fun, no-stakes challenge would be good for him.

"We were planning on hanging out on Friday, so what if you walked me through it from the start, and maybe together we can come up with some answers?"

"Seriously? Dude that would be so awesome! I will teach you everything I know about code breaking!"

"I mean, I do know some things, you know. You think I didn't have a spy phase as a teenager?" Tim smiles at Bernard's responding laughter. It'll be nice, he thinks, to mess with a puzzle where nobody's life is at stake.

#dp x dc #the one where the amity parkers make an arg #poor tim looking forward to something incosequential and fun... i am going to be so mean to him #next up: a deeper look into what's going on in amity park #tim drake #bernard dowd #they are a perfect Conspiracy Couple tbh

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psin314 · 1 month ago

Note

Hello! I was scrolling through your BSky and was wondering the story behind your OCs Sean and Eugene, also if you plan on doing more art for them.

glad you asked anon! so so glad!!! sean and eugene (i call them yush) - one of my strongest ocs hyperfixations ever, i love them so much. but i'll try to tell about them as short as possible. (everything's under the cut!!)

also more art? easy. i made them in 2019...

funny pics:

pretty pics:

spicy pics: somewhere on their th pages.

a little about the world they live in (i unofficially call it ryzhebes. i made it in 2017 and it still doesn't have a proper name...):

it's almost like our world but hell and heaven, angels and demons + witches exist here too. hell and heaven look pretty ordinary and modern, no lava pools or screams of horror and pain. satan is a tired workaholic, and god uuh angels say he's a nice guy. demons and angels mostly don't care about humans (also humanity doesn't know that all this exists), but some of them love to have their vacations there (all of them can use "magical" disguises to hide their supernatural features and look like humans). after death humans go either to hell or to heaven, where they live a slightly better or slightly worse second life. of course there are some naughty demons (or even angels) who love to do shit like in movies like the exorcist but there aren't that many of them. (i can write more info about this universe if anyone's interested, but let's keep it short for this post.)

so! about my boys. the first version of them was much darker with catholic guilt and a suicide attempt but I don't want them to suffer so they're simply in love and very happy now.

eugene black is a 42 yo demon, a tattoo artist with an engineering degree who knows 20+ languages. loves to drink beer, smoke cigarettes and act like a cool guy in leather with a motorcycle (he can't afford a motorcycle. he lives with his mom. but he can afford a leather jacket and pants.) (also he's silly.) he's a stutterer, has problems with pronouncing the letters d t p, sometimes n and m. and he doesn't really care. loves to talk. sensitive and romantic guy, will do everything for the people he loves. loves his family, has 5 siblings. has health problems, needs to eat a lot, almost all the money he has he spends on food and still can't gain weight much. has a supernatural ability - can teleport wherever he wants, just needs to know the place or see the needed place on the map. (he uses math and physics for this but no one would understand him anyway.) has problems with teleporting from closed spaces.

father sean farrell is a 30 yo catholic priest from ireland. traumatized childhood, father issues, long depression episodes but he's mostly okay now. although anxiety can't leave this man alone. very kind, supportive, understanding and friendly person. he is very non-aggressive and easily controls himself during an argument. loves to listen and help people. although he's a simple priest, goes to the gym and plays rugby regularly. he's… big and strong. (also getting tired physically everyday helps him fall asleep peacefully.) never been in a romantic or sexual relationship before eugene.

how they met.

1994. eugene lost a bet to his friend and had to go to any random church and steal something. hungover, somehow disguised, he went there in the morning and got right to mass. he had to stay and listen. but somewhere along the way he fell asleep. unexpectedly for eugene, someone started trying to wake him up, holding him by the shoulder. it was this priest who was reading mass. the sleeping man smelled of beer and cigarettes, but he slept so soundly that sean was even a little scared. when he finally woke him up, eugene mumbled something unintelligible (probably his name??) and ran away. sean didn't understand anything. and eugene fell head over heels in love, because the priest turned out to be very pretty.

eugene returned to the church in the evening. in his demon form, because he thought that he would quickly go there, steal what he needed and leave. but he crossed paths with father sean there, who was delayed there to clean up. eugene didn't lose his composure, said hello, joked, tried to come up with a reason for his presence. but sean was silent and looked at him strangely. eugene looked at his hands and realized that the priest was now seeing a demon in front of him. as soon as he raised his head, he received a thick bible book in his face. eugene tried to calm him down, sean wanted to hit him with the book again. but eugene managed to grab him by the wrist and carry him with him to hell.

they fell on top of each other on the road near eugene's house. sean was starting to get hysterical, but eugene, sitting on top of him, grabbed him by the hands and very angrily asked him to calm down and that nothing bad would happen. surprisingly, this calmed sean down. he noticed eugene's nose was bleeding and gave him a handkerchief… (sean thought it was because of the bible blow but teleportation took a lot of eugene's strength. now he'll have to wait until he rests to be able to bring sean back.)

sean looked around, hell looked… nice. normal. an ordinary suburb of a small town. trees are blooming, it smells like normal evening air and and the rain that has just passed. then they went to eugene's house, luckily his mother wasn't home, he made sean some green tea and told him a little about hell, demons, himself and his stupid bet. sean was mostly silent because he was in shock. then a couple of hours later he brought sean back. they went their separate ways.

eugene couldn't stop thinking about sean, he fell in love, he wanted to see him again. sean couldn't sleep either. he had to rethink his whole life, but it didn't work out very well, there was too much of new information. as a result, eugene returned to the church after some time. this time sean noticed him first and immediately ran to him, to discuss reality.

they started talking to each other. first on the topic of the universe, and then moved on to personal topics. started seeing each other more often. it didn't affect sean's faith much in the end, although he almost had 7 nervous breakdowns at once. being a priest still made sense and he continued to do what he always did. he already sort of knew that all this existed. just not in the form that he imagined.

(yes, there are no classic demon-priest relationships here, where the demon seduces the priest and destroys him. it's a romcom. :))

well and yes, after a few months their talking to each other turned into romantic interest. sean slowly fell in love with eugene. he didn't really care that eugene was a man, he wasn't homophobic but he couldn't come out yet. he was naturally worried that eugene was a DEMON and also... celibate yeah. he had never had a relationship, but what he felt for eugene was a very pleasant feeling.

so a few weeks later of what should i do what should i do, one warm evening, sean kissed eugene, and then quickly ran away, because they almost got seen. they met that same night, in the park, in their usual place, where no one would see them. sean wanted to tell eugene that he did it by accident without thinking, they need to stop this, but this time eugene came to kiss him and sean forgot about everything. now they were kissing properly. sean didn't know what to do, this was all wrong, but he really liked eugene. they talked about it and decided to have secret meetings.

after some time it led to sex ofc... after it sean was kind of happy, but also worried even more. one part of him said that this needed to end, and the other part said that he loved eugene. sean told him about it again. they both came to the conclusion that they love each other. eugene didn't want to ruin sean's life so he doesn't mind becoming the priest's secret wife.

im talking to much sorry, and this part to this day isn't properly explained haha sorry x2 i just want them to be happy.

well, in the end. they continue to date and love each other, keeping their secret. (eugene's whole family and his best friends know that he's fucking a priest.)

(sean said that eugene's like a star for him, that of all the billions of shining stars, he found the brightest one. and eugene didn't know that he can say things like that. maybe i'll redraw and repost it someday idk.)

#asks #my oc #oc eugene black #oc sean farrell

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daydreamgoddess14 · 1 month ago

Text

The Reading Rooms

Another week down... they just keep coming, don't they?! Sometimes I think it might slow down but then I realise that this is probably just my life now 😅

Previous weeks Masterlist

Always remember to heed the warnings posted by the individual authors. What I'm happy to read may not be what you're happy to read, so I take no responsibility if you find something you're not into.

And finally, Tumblr is a community. Reblog, gush like you've never gushed before - I promise you, the authors below will love it, and love you for it! We write because we love to, but we share our work because we love the community of it. If you read something you like, let the world know! 💕

The List

Such an exciting week! I hit 800 followers - considering I haven't planned anything for 500/600/700 yet I really need to get on with some kind of event 🤭 Lets see in a couple of weeks. I have an assignment due at the end of next week so if you see me here, no you didn't - ok? Writing wise, I posted the first chapter of Strategic Interests! It landed initially with a bit of a whimper more than a bang - but I have FOUR chapters in the bag and I hate sitting on them so I'm going to post chapter 2 tomorrow 🙌 For my Hollywood AU lovers out there, For Your Consideration is coming, I promise - she's just being an angsty diva is all 😅

Onto the reading!

Bucky Barnes

Tension is a Loaded Gun by @keithyp00 - YESSSS this was so good, absolutely delicious!

@mercurial-chuckles - Yield to Me - that bloody cat! So cute and angry but not at you Bucky is just perfection!

where the quiet lives by @cursedheartsclub is literally the most beautiful. An absolute must read this week - it's divine.

@sunday-bug knows the way to my heart. Light as a Feather was the cutest, fluffiest, perfectest little nugget of joy I needed!

I recommended Jenga a few weeks ago... there's a Part 2! Now go and thank @skaye44 nicely!

A Home with You @donaweasley so romantic, so sweet, so lovely! 💕

Wounded Pride by @orellazalonia was so fun!

I will never apologise for putting Declassified on this list every bloody week. @dreamwritesimagines posted chapter 9 and I remain utterly obsessed with the HURDLES she puts in their way! Meanwhile I'm itching for these dolls to kiss already!!

That Was Mine by @societyfolklore YUMMMMY Bucky is the only snack I need.

holy SHIT @buckyseternaldoll - knifes edge AND eighteen hours AND every inch, every corner were ALL so hot. SO HOT!!! Also, Elle has gone from about 70 to 700 followers in about two days. RIP her notifications but so, so deserved! Congratulations sweetheart! 😘

The Escort by @azriona was EXCELLENT and everyone slept on it! and I also read Even on a Thursday (Peggy x Steve) In fact, you all need to haul ass to Azriona's blog and catch up with the many deaths of Clint Barton AND her new Stucky x Reader fic Reflections which I need to catch up on!

John Walker

From the Bottom of my Heart; fuck you. by @rissararity - I mean, the title alone is incredible, right?! This was so great!

Harder by @geeky-politics-46

Bob Reynolds

Pouring My Love onto You by @feelingdozy was adorable 🥹

I am confessing my eternal shame here. I read a gorgeous Bob fic where he grows a little bit of a beard and reader has a glorious oh shit moment when she realises how hot he is.... and NOW I CAN'T FIND IT!!! When I find it - and I will, I promise I will reblog the shit out of it. In the meantime, if you know the one I mean - link it!!

Joaquin Torres

Misunderstanding by @lives-in-midgard was so super cute!! I love Joaquin so much 🥹🥹

Jake Seresin

Feels Like Home by @crossskylinesandcontrails - gorgeous!!!

And that's the week. I'm calling it there even though there are about 956,934 fic in my drafts to read. I need to stop writing for a hot minute so I can read instead... but the muse is here and I don't want to kick the bitch out so I'm afraid I must write!

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marigoldbaker · 4 months ago

Text

life's a bitch and then you keep living

She attends the funeral and Buffy punches her in the face. She’s getting used to it.

title from my beloved bojack horseman.

this fic possessed me when i was reading a different fanfiction that ended with one of those like -- one character dies and their immortal romantic partner decides to die along with them -- and it made my brain feel so many complicated feelings that i decided to excise them through this and didn't sleep until i was done. i am never done with my forevergirl. <3

i'm adding it under the cut because ao3 is going to be down for a few hours and i feel like posting my first jenny calendar fic in almost a year and then ao3 is inaccessible is uhhhh a little evil lol. trying to be nice to any existing jenny audience i may have...

She’s not graceful about it. That’s what’s really fucked. Probably, if it had been him, he’d have had some sort of romantic, Byronic spiraling-out, never loved again, burned everything down trying to avenge her, something like that. Him and his big fucking feelings that she never completely knew what to do with, never knew how to look directly in the eye, had to look away from when she admitted to her own.

They weren’t really anything. They didn’t have time to be.

She attends the funeral and Buffy punches her in the face. She’s getting used to it. She came expecting worse, so maybe that’s her grieving, wanting to feel it—wanting to feel more of that clawing, awful horror instead of clawing, awful nothing. He made her feel things. Her life was colorlessly superficial and he was a fucking Monet, full of soft, bright, out-of-focus-but-it’s-all-right sentimentality, and now he’s gone, so she can just go back to being a burnout failure of a comp sci teacher who never did anything truly worthwhile with her life. She could have had a destiny, a purpose, something, and she let that purpose kill him, because she wouldn’t commit to feeling it.

Vengeance. Love. Anything. She wouldn’t commit. She wouldn’t throw out that old blood, but she wouldn’t throw herself in with it, either. He’d chosen, at least, in the end—he’d dug his heels in and stuck to what he’d been before her, and if she’d done the same, there’s a sliver of a chance he’d still be here, sending her cold looks in the hallways. Reminding her that—well—maybe it would have been the wrong choice, but it would have been a choice. That would have been something.

She examines the blossom of a bruise on her cheek. Purple and red. Two of her favorite colors.

~~~~

So here’s a not-choice of a choice: she’s still teaching. You’d think she’d leave, or stay, or do something: this is neither. She stays where she is. She’ll freeze herself in amber, be that not-a-person that he fell in love with, that fictitious and beautiful woman who really wasn’t anything but what he wanted her to be. She’s Jenny Calendar. She teaches computer science at the local high school. She smiles only sometimes, jokes with the faculty, encourages the kids to be the best and brightest, and when blood gets on her shoes, she smiles like a fucking Stepford wife, because that’s what you do in a town like this when you’re not one of the people who knows how to fix it. Of course there are the people who sob and cry and try to change things, but she’s not one of those people anymore. Those are the people who get killed.

Willow drops her class. The kids huddle in the library still like they’re chasing a ghost, waiting for him to step out from the stacks, translucent, clinging to his job and his responsibilities even in death. He fucking would. She’d go in there and wait too if she thought he’d have anything to say to her.

When she dreams of him, it’s never the good shit, like when she talked him into driving down to the beach with her on a school day, wore a skimpy-but-tasteful bikini under her work blouse and flowing skirt, got to hear his indignant Jenny when he realized she’d been planning for this and hadn’t bothered to so much as pack him some swim trunks. She dreams about roses and roses and blood and roses and blood and the way the candlelight glinted off his glasses, glinted in his empty eyes.

She wonders if he’d have been fooled—if it had been her on the bed. He was always such a fucking romantic. She knew the goddamn second she walked in. Felt it in the air. When he was romantic, there was always an undertone of goofy excitement to it—he couldn’t pull off sensual operatic bullshit, not unironically. He wouldn’t have even tried for it. He’d have talked himself out of it in the first few seconds, convinced she’d have laughed him out of California, and god, maybe he’d have been right; she was such a fucking bitch.

When he was romantic, you felt it right down into your bone marrow, because it wasn’t the kind of bullshit you got from guys who thought they were being smooth and were really just assholes. He said the kind of things that knights said to princesses, and he’d say it right after Jenny had just gotten done making fun of his tie, but it only happened once or twice without him stammering too much to get the words out. She’d wait, though. She always waited for him to finish. Sometimes the bell rang before he could, before they’d kiss, and she’d linger in the hallway, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Never doing anything. Never doing anything right by him.

~~~~

When the new Watcher comes to the library and she sees him with his fucking tweed suit and his fucking round glasses and his fucking British accent, too young to die like her heart, why do they keep sending fucking kids to this fucking death trap of a nightmare of a town—she corners him in the faculty room, shoves him up against the wall, says, “You leave, you son of a bitch. You leave. You are not him. If he died, you’re not gonna last a fucking week, and if you last longer than that, I will kill you myself,” and it’s only because Snyder doesn’t give a shit about anything and she’s passing the athletics team like he asked that she doesn’t get some sort of disciplinary write-up.

Buffy comes in the next day and stands in her doorway like a ghost. Staring. Jenny says, “Fuck you,” and shuts the door in her face, which isn’t exactly the kind of blank you-can-kill-me-if-you-want impartiality she was going for, but what the fuck ever. Everything is ruined forever. The love of her life is dead.

~~~~

The Watcher keeps living. Buffy kills Angel or Angelus or something; Jenny doesn’t care. She remembers the floppy disk almost three months after Rupert’s death and goes down to that old mansion with it, sits outside—they’ve all cleared out, of course, or maybe Buffy’s killed them, or maybe they’re still there and they’ll kill her. Jenny doesn’t care.

She says to the empty air, “Well, I guess you got what you wanted after all, you sick fucking asshole,” and then she breaks the floppy disk in half. She doesn’t give a shit what anyone wants anymore. Not her family, not Buffy, not anyone. Who the fuck cares about the philosophical implications of Angel and Angelus? Rupert is dead. That’s it. End of fucking sentence.

Someone sits down next to her, light as a ghost. She doesn’t turn to look. It could be a vampire, it could be Buffy, it could be someone else, but whoever it is, it doesn’t matter, because the moment she says anything to them, that’s something unfurling within her, towards change, and she won’t let it. She’s Jenny Calendar, hollow girl. She is completely untouchable. And Rupert Giles is dead.

The someone who’s next to her says, “Not the sort of town you want to be alone in.”

Jenny doesn’t answer.

“I loved him too,” says the man. “Just so you know.”

So then she does know who it is, a little. Lets her head fall against his shoulder, a little. He’s about as important as she is around these parts, which means he’ll be gone by the morning. That’s the way it works when you love Rupert. He’s the sun and you’re the earth and the minute he’s gone—

“The Mayor hired me to drug every adult in town with enchanted candy in a few months’ time,” says the man whose voice she really does remember. “I’m staying here until then. Hidden from the eyes of the Slayer, of course.”

“Yeah, you have fun with that,” says Jenny.

“I’m inviting you to stay,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” she says. “You’re just not. I’m not helping you with shit. I’m done being something important. I am just fucking done, Ethan.”

Ethan’s quiet for a moment. “Then why are you still here?”

Because death is action and life is inaction and Jenny, demonstrably, is a woman of inaction. Jenny, if she takes an action now, will have taken one too late to save Rupert. Jenny, if she had taken an action then, could have saved Rupert, could have fucking done something, and refuses to grow into or past the version of herself that let Rupert die. She will not become someone who could have saved his life.

“I think you two would have been very happy together,” says Ethan. There’s a derisive edge to it. “You have the same goddamn martyr complex. The same sort of insufferable refusal to change when faced with the inevitable unpredictability of the world that we live in.”

“Yeah, whatever,” says Jenny. “You’re still sitting out here with me. You think you’re any better?”

“I don’t need to be,” says Ethan. “He’s dead.”

He gets it, Jenny thinks.

~~~~

Five months later, there’s a bunch of candy, inexplicably, in the area. Jenny picks up a bar and takes a bite and suddenly she’s hacked off all her hair, set a cop car on fire, and doubled over in the Sunnydale High parking lot, crying so hard, so, so hard, crying like she hasn’t cried since she was sixteen years old, so hard she’s going to throw up, thinking about what it would have been like if Rupert were here right now.

She wakes up the next morning and books an appointment at the salon. Evens it out.

~~~~

Five months after that, Buffy and her friends are in college across town, and Jenny’s teaching a new group of kids, and it’s all really starting to blur into a comforting haze of nothing, an endless blur of gray. Whatever she was before, whatever she could have been, she’s Jenny now, the masquerade mask of a woman with nothing behind her eyes, beguiling and bewitching and empty inside. A lie made up to hold something real.

The real girl is dead.

~~~~

Five months after that—

~~~~

It’s printed on the list of new students for the new semester. Intro to Comp Sci. Dawn Summers.

Somehow Jenny does not feel equipped for this. At all. Dawn is Buffy’s little sister. They haven’t met before now, mostly because Dawn was—was—her mind skips like a record playing wrong—because Dawn was too young at the time to be involved in much of anything, so Dawn’s impression of Jenny has to have been through secondhand information provided by Buffy.

Computer Science is not a mandatory class. Dawn could have very easily chosen not to sign up for this. Dawn very much has.

Jenny feels—

Feels—

That is what is wrong with the sentence; the rest does not need to be finished. Jenny feels. It’s been nothing for years and now it’s—something. Curiosity? Apprehension? She sits down at her desk and stares at the printed letters, trying to will them into a name that doesn’t matter. Sure that, somehow, she can do it.

~~~~

Dawn is a model student. Jenny compares her obsessively and repeatedly to Buffy, but also to Willow; she has aspects of both. She steels herself for Summers antipathy, a hand across the face, but Dawn treats her as though they’ve never met before, and somehow that hurts too—imagining her scrubbed from the lives of these children like she’s nothing. Never mind that she stepped away and did it first. Rupert mattered. Rupert changed the fabric of everything, and Jenny loved him. Failed him. She’d thought at least—

She’d thought at least that would mean something.

Dawn turns in her first assignment. It’s close to perfect without being Willow-levels of meticulous and slightly obsessive prodigy, which means that Willow isn’t helping her. She’s doing this herself. Jenny wants to ask why. She can’t ask why. She wants to ask why. It’s just not an option.

Dawn misses school every so often. No explanation. The fifth time this happens, she comes up to Jenny’s desk after class, which freezes Jenny’s goodbye-everyone smile in rictus. But Dawn’s only ever seen her tense and strange, so, luckily enough, Dawn doesn’t seem to really notice exactly how tense and strange Jenny is right now.

“Ms. Calendar?” she asks. Her face is blank, open, sweet—nothing but a teenage girl. “Do you have a minute?”

Jenny throws herself bodily into that shell of a mask of a woman and says, “Yeah, sure, Dawn. What’s up?”

“It’s just.” Dawn wavers. “You’ve kind of excused my absences every time without even asking that I make up work? I was looking at my grades when they came in, and I thought they’d be way, way lower, which I was totally okay with. Sorta thought you were the kind of teacher who doesn’t give the opportunity to do catch-up assignments, and I was a little too nervous to ask, ‘cause you always seem a little strung-out. Not in a bad way!” she hastily adds. “Just…I don’t know, I didn’t want to bother you? Especially after being gone as much as I am. But I got my grades, and it doesn’t look like you marked any of my missing assignments. Pretty much gave me perfect scores. So I was just wondering—”

“You were wondering why,” Jenny finishes.

Dawn smiles gratefully. It’s the kind of smile Buffy used to give Rupert. It claws a hole into Jenny’s chest and starts ripping her open, slowly, vivisecting her at her stupid fucking meaningless desk.

“Pretty much!” she says.

Jenny says, “I had your sister in my class.” That’s about all she can manage.

“…Oh,” says Dawn. She looks a little bemused. “Huh. You know, that’s not usually the response to Buffy.”

Yeah, well. Buffy doesn’t go around punching just any teacher in the face, kid. But Jenny can’t exactly say that to Dawn.

“She never mentioned you,” says Dawn. “Were you…did you guys get along?”

Jenny’s hand flickers to her throat. One of the other dreams she has, a lot, is one where Buffy kills her—on the desk, at the funeral, at school, on the sidewalk, like she’s an animal, like she’s an evil thing. Those are the dreams that hurt the least.

“Okay,” says Dawn. “Well. Uh. Cool talk, I guess?” She’s doing that Buffy thing, where she smiles with bemused annoyance, bouncing on the balls of her feet, puzzled-but-she-thinks-it’s-funny. Sisters. Jenny sees it every day. “And thanks for the grades, but you really don’t have to—”

“Yes,” says Jenny. “I do.”

There’s something too much about the intensity in her voice. She knows that the second she speaks. Dawn pulls back a little, still smiling, but now there’s a bit of Willow to her—that mystery-solving curiosity. That determination.

Jenny decides to let her try. Death is action. Life is inaction.

~~~~

The next day, Dawn is at her desk again. She doesn’t look ready to kill Jenny, but she does look a little miffed.

“So you do know Buffy,” she says.

“What did Buffy tell you?”

“Uh, literally nothing. Do you have siblings?”

Jenny has a hundred family ghosts on her shoulder and her dead parents are two of them. She might not have been an only child if things were different. They’re not.

Dawn seems to take her silence for the answer it is. “Well. All Buffy said to me when I asked her was leave it alone, Dawn, which is literally so-o Buffy of her, like, can you even believe? I mean, what am I supposed to do, just—”

“Leave it alone?” Jenny dryly suggests.

“Come on,” says Dawn. “I’m not doing that.”

She sees her, for a second. Buffy. Standing in front of her desk, smiling sharply, that other ghost girl she failed—sunlight and bubblegum, bruised by the world but still so hopeful. Thrumming with joy and possibility. Twirling her hair over Angel because no one told her not to do it, or maybe because everyone told her not to do it, or maybe—possibly—because sometimes loving someone makes you forget what’s smart and what’s safe.

Jenny sits up a little. She says, “Your sister decked me in the face at her Watcher’s funeral. You want to find out more? Ask her about that.”

And credit where credit is due—Dawn doesn’t flinch back with oh-my-gosh teenage horror. She tilts her head just a little, eyes narrowing with that Summers spirit, and smiles almost appreciatively.

“Thanks, Ms. C,” she says. “I owe you one.”

~~~~

Buffy shows up at Jenny’s house after hours. Without preamble, she says, “Stay away from my sister.”

Jenny says nothing. Waits for the blow.

Buffy turns on her heel and storms away. Jenny watches her, curiously, and wonders if Buffy knows that she holds no power over a woman who dreams of what it would be like for the Vampire Slayer’s hands to close around her throat again. Buffy kills monsters. That’s what she does.

~~~~

Of course Dawn shows up at Jenny’s desk again after class, and this time, when she does, Jenny actually smiles. It feels strange on her face—a smile in a way that doesn’t hurt. It makes her think about how much everything else does, all the time.

Dawn sits down on the edge of the desk and says, gleefully, “Buffy got so mad.”

“Yeah,” says Jenny. “I bet.”

“She’s totally not going to tell me,” says Dawn, “but I asked, so now you totally have to. Why’d she punch you in the face?”

Jenny takes out her wallet. Takes out the folded-over ticket stubs: Admit Two for a monster truck rally from 1997. “Give her these,” she says. “Tell her where I was keeping them. See what happens.”

~~~~

And honestly, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen. She’s hoping Buffy kills her.

But Buffy doesn’t come at all that night.

~~~~

This time, Dawn doesn’t bounce up to her desk. She places the ticket stubs back down in front of Jenny a little shakily, mouth trembling.

“She cried all night,” she says. “This isn’t fun anymore. I don’t want to know.”

Jenny picks up the ticket stubs and puts them back in her wallet. Rummages in her desk drawer, instead, until she finds the thing that she can’t look at anymore. Hands it to Dawn.

Dawn stares at it for a very long time. The tremor in her hand increases. She lets the photo strip flutter back down onto the desk, on top of the ticket stubs: Jenny and Rupert tangled up in the tiny booth, laughing. Jenny’s lipstick is all over Rupert’s face. He’s too big to fit in the booth and she’s mostly on his lap. They’re luminous.

“That’s—” Dawn says.

“Yeah,” says Jenny.

“So you’re—” Dawn says.

“Yeah,” says Jenny.

Dawn sits down on the edge of Jenny’s desk. Her eyes are a little wet. She doesn’t say anything, just picks up the photo again, staring intensely at it like she’s trying to burn it into her eyes.

Jenny says, “He was the love of my life.”

Almost two seconds later, Dawn says, “My mom’s in the hospital.”

Jenny holds out her hand, palm-up. Dawn takes it.

~~~~

Buffy’s on her door again that night. She’s hammering hard on the wood. Jenny gets up, opens the door, and Buffy says, desperately, tearfully, “I’m sor—”

Which isn’t what she’s fucking supposed to do. So Jenny shuts the door in her face.

~~~~

Dawn doesn’t come up to Jenny’s desk after class. She comes in at lunch instead. Jenny asks, “Don’t you have friends?” and Dawn just sort of laughs wetly and offers her a carrot stick, which is a hell of a lot better than Jenny’s current lunch of choice, which is whatever she wants from the vending machine, because she doesn’t eat lunch anymore. Rupert had been making hers before Angelus snapped his neck and killed them both.

They eat in silence until about five minutes before they’re supposed to go, when Jenny says, “I don’t want to be in a world where he isn’t.”

“Yeah, but you are,” says Dawn. “And the thing is, you kind of have to be. I mean, if my mom dies, I know she’d lose it finding out I died too, and then you gotta deal with all that junk in heaven when you’re supposed to be having fun with the angels. You really want your first moments with Giles again to be all about him telling you how mad he is you didn’t do a good job at living without him?”

Which makes Jenny laugh so hard she chokes on a carrot stick. Lucky thing. She can say the tears are from that.

~~~~

Dawn comes with two lunches the next day. “Nobody ever sees you eat,” she says, and Jenny’s about to turn it down when she realizes it’s actually just greasy fast food in a deceptive paper bag.

“Oh, what the heck, Buffy?” Dawn demands. “Come on! She never lets me just have a burger and fries for lunch?!”

“I can’t take this,” says Jenny immediately.

“What?” Dawn groans. “Oh, man. Look, she gave me the lunch because I asked for an extra one.Does that make it better? Does that make whatever weird thing you guys have okay?”

“We don’t have—” Jenny stiffens defensively.

“Just eat the friggin’ burger,” says Dawn.

Jenny eats the friggin’ burger. Grudgingly.

~~~~

Buffy comes in at Parent-Teacher Night. Her eyes are a little sunken; she looks older and more tired than Jenny remembers. Nothing even half as luminous as her sister, who’s chattering away in that nervous Summers-babble style where she’s trying to make sure everyone’s just talking about computers. She’s in the middle of some tangent about programming that makes it very clear she has no idea what’s going on in class when Buffy says, “Are you even washing your hair?”

“You sound like Cordelia,” says Jenny. Her mouth twitches. “Are you two still friends?”

“We weren’t friends before.”

“Excuse me for not keeping up with the intricacies of your high school social life,” says Jenny, brows raised. “I was a little busy—”

“Busy doing what?” says Buffy. “Stepford-wifing it up? You were goddamn creepy all through senior year. We kept on trying to talk to you and you’d just look through us.”

Jenny doesn’t actually remember any of that. She doesn’t really feel like arguing the point. “Get me a better shampoo, then,” she says. “Slay the monster that is my greasy and terrible hair.”

“Take better care of yourself,” says Buffy.

Why do you even care, Jenny wants to say, but some small part of her really does know why. It’s awful, the knowing.

“…does anyone want to see my program?” Dawn asks, a little hysterically.

Something occurs to Jenny. “Where’s Joyce?”

Buffy sort of smiles. It’s the kind of smile that hurts; Jenny can see the hurt in her shoulders and her hands. “Mom’s…not doing well,” she says. “But she’ll be better. We think.”

Fucking goddamn it, Jenny does feel something, thinking about Buffy losing Joyce on top of Rupert. How the fuck is that fair? She can’t get punched in the face and fix it. She can’t take the hit and be the villain, the problem, the thing Buffy could have killed to keep the right person alive. She can just sit here, mostly a stranger, basically nothing, and try to think of something to say that isn’t—

“Fuck that,” she says. It sounds—real. “Fucking absolute goddamn bullshit. As though you haven’t been through enough! Both of you! Living here! Why don’t you just pick up your sister, take your mom to an LA hospital—I have a credit card,” she’s rummaging in her purse, “take my goddamn credit card, go start just buying shit—”

“Ooh, absolutely!” says Dawn.

“Dawn, don’t,” says Buffy, blocking her sister’s hand. “We don’t take credit cards from people having a mental health crisis.”

“It’s not a mental health crisis, it’s a state of being,” Jenny corrects her.

“It’s not a state of being, it’s the worst hair I’ve ever seen,” Buffy counters.

“This is fun,” says Dawn. “I want to take Buffy to talk to my science teacher now.”

“Not everyone’s Ms. Calendar,” says Buffy. “Ms. Calendar has emotional problems.”

“God, you are a bitch now that you’re not in high school,” Jenny observes, which makes Buffy actually laugh. A real one. It doesn’t match her eyes or the tightness in her mouth, but—it sounds like that bubblegum girl.

~~~~

Jenny casts the bones and reads the cards and prays for a miracle when they all say the same thing: death, death, death, death, death. She whispers it into the wind: please, if it’s a punishment for my inaction, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, I’ll be better, if those girls get to keep their mom. Please, whoever’s listening, it’s worth losing him if those girls get to keep their mom. They’re young enough. They’ve lost enough. I’ll do anything. I will be anything. I will drown myself in blood, I will give myself to Hecate, I will bring back any monster, make myself the monster, just so long as—

~~~~

And of course prayer does fuck-all and Dawn breaks down in a class that isn’t hers. Art class. As though Jenny didn’t have enough bad blood with the art department. She finds out two days later when Dawn still isn’t in class and she ends up having an actual, embarrassing panic attack, has to stagger out into the hallway because she can’t breathe, can’t stop thinking about that little baby sunshine girl strewn out in an alley with her throat cut. When did it start fucking mattering again?

Someone catches her arms. For a moment, the grip is so strong, and she almost thinks—Rupert—

Xander says, “Hey. Hey, Ms. Calendar. Hey. It’s okay.”

Jenny actually does start crying. It’s really humiliating. Worse than that is the fact that Xander, who she remembers as the world’s most annoying fifteen-year-old, is suddenly a strong, solid college student who can help her over to a chair while she sobs hard enough to throw up. He holds her hand the whole time.

“It’s okay,” he keeps repeating. “It’s okay. Dawn asked me to come and check on you. She thought—well, we forgot—” He fumbles. “We didn’t know you and Buffy were friends again.”

Friends is a really weird way to describe “Buffy shows up outside my house sometimes with shampoo,” but Jenny’s still crying too hard to correct him. She buries her face in her hands and tries to remember how to breathe.

“She’s okay,” Xander says. “She’s—” His voice breaks a little. “It’s. Uh. Joyce.”

At which point Jenny actually does throw up on her own shoes.

~~~~

Xander takes the shoes and walks her to his car. He’s holding her hand, which is weird, but so is Joyce Summers being dead. So is whatever Jenny’s going to have to say to Snyder about skipping her own classes to throw up on the floor outside of the library.

“Anya might have shoes that fit you,” he offers. “Her feet run a little bigger than yours, but.”

Anya’s shoes are terrible. Impractical business-girl heels. Jenny ignores them entirely, clambering into Xander’s passenger seat and sinking back against the chair until it reclines.

“Yeah, you know what, sure,” says Xander to himself, and gets in, starting the car. “So, uh, how’ve you been? Anything new going on? Kinda thought you’d leave, after—all that shit went down sophomore year.”

“Inaction is death,” says Jenny. “Action is—” No, wait, that’s not right.

“…Neato,” says Xander. “Can I put on the radio?”

She doesn’t answer. He turns it on.

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming, or the moment of truth in your lies—

“CAN YOU TURN OFF THE RADIO,”says Jenny.

“Geez,” says Xander, “who died?” and then he starts laughing really hard and really loud, hyena loud, until he just doubles over on the steering wheel and starts crying.

Jenny stares at the ceiling. Thinks, bizarrely, and almost warmly, that this would be the kind of moment that Rupert would describe as his own personal nightmare, which is enough for her to sit up in the car a little.

“Hey,” she says, and sort of whacks Xander on the shoulder in an attempt to pat him. “Uh. There, there?”

Xander keeps crying. Jenny gives up and goes back to lying down.

One time she and Rupert tried to have car sex and he almost threw out his back on top of the crossbow bolt wound she inflicted. One time she drove Buffy to the docks with Angel in the backseat and Buffy in the front seat and both of them trying to convince her Buffy should be in the backseat—her resolute in her determination to at least halfway live up to her promise to her uncle, never mind that Buffy shouldn’t have ever been in that car in the first place. One time—

Xander’s crying is beginning to even out. Wetly, he says, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It wasn’t even—it wasn’t even like—monsters kill people here, not—”

“Xander, things just die here,” says Jenny. “This is the worst fucking town in the history of the world.”

“So why are you still here?” he demands.

“Rupert’s grave is still here,” says Jenny, and realizes with a small and painful jolt that this is the real reason.

He rubs a hand across his face and says, shakily, “Let’s get you home.”

~~~~

Dawn and Buffy both rush her at the door. She doesn’t know why she’s expecting this when it happens. They both just tumble into her like puppies, like it’s what they’re supposed to do, and she holds them so fucking tight, just about collapses to the ground with them. Nobody’s crying. Nobody’s saying anything. Buffy’s face is tucked into her hair.

From somewhere far away, Willow says, “Ms. Calendar?”

Buffy says, “The finances are a mess. And funerals are so expensive.”

Jenny says, “Now who’s asking for the credit card of a woman having a mental health crisis?”

“Yeah, well, I’m a woman in a mental health crisis. Make a donation.” Buffy’s holding Jenny hard enough to bruise. Jenny doesn’t give a shit. “You should be failing Dawn. She’s learning nothing in Comp Sci.”

“I do whatever the fuck I fucking want.”

Jenny lets go of them both, a little. Dawn looks dizzy with relief. Buffy is just meeting her eyes with this firm intensity, nothing hostile to it, but nothing at all like the light and frothy teenage girl who looked cheerfully through her. Maybe it’s the first time they’re actually looking at each other.

“It fucking sucks,” says Buffy.

“Yeah,” says Jenny. Maybe she’s crying a little. “Yeah, it does.”

“And it never—never stops hurting.”

“Yeah.”

“Never.”

Jenny reaches out and catches Buffy’s face in her hand. “Are you keeping up with your classes? I’m not letting you drop out.”

“I do whatever the fuck I fucking want.”

“Not on my dime.” She squeezes Buffy’s shoulder. “You’ll take a semester off and then it’s back to the grind. And maybe we’re moving to LA. What the fuck are we still doing here?”

“We need—”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“There’s still—”

“I don’t give a shit, Buffy, we’re done. We’re done.”

Buffy smiles a little. “Yeah, okay,” she says. “LA. We’re done. Let the hell town eat itself.”

No one’s there to stop them, anyway.

#fic #jenny calendar #jenny and buffy #jenny and dawn #i think the thing that really hits about writing for jenny now is like #whenever i do it just means so fucking much to me.#i am not just writing to keep writing for her forever.#whatever i produce now is very .... from my heart! <3 #also deeply harrowing and all about grief and horror but yknow

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itsallmouthwashing · 7 months ago

Text

Tulpar- Band AU, Character descriptions

I cannot draw- so have some written descriptions and tidbits about the members of Tulpar! I'm planning more bullet points tomorrow but contemplating how much I want to give away ;)

It's very late, I want to add more but I also want to get these OUT! I have much much more planned so don't worry all the details will come out

Bullet Points here

ANYA

Our goth bhaddie

Mid-short black hair, undyed (a NATURAL goth queen)

Usually with purple eyeshadow and black lipstick. Her makeup isnt too intricate, but sometimes she likes to do a classic goth look (white foundation, black EVERYWHERE, the works) when she’s feeling fancy. Later when their band goes much more hardcore, she rocks the look more often. It makes her feel powerful and confident on stage!

YES she has Doc Martens. NO she doesn't wear them. They make her FEET HURT!!!

Still likes jogging! Is that jog to the nearest Burger King? Sometimes!

Her first tattoo is the one she gets with the crew when Tulpar gets signed :)

Has her ears and her bottom lip pierced. She plays with her lip piercing when she’s studying

She picked up bass at 12

Does Daisuke’s and Curly’s makeup sometimes :)

Perfer’s purple nail polish :)

DAISUKE

I put in my Ghost Adventure’s AU that Dai would have dyed his hair pink or purple, so this barbie has pink hair :) He’s got a purple fringe :) Probably short-- think about base game Sims 4 short emo hair-- that one!

Loves to paint his and the crews nails, especially for concerts! It happens so often that it becomes ritual and start times will go over if they aren't finished in time. Daisuke WILL get this hand right and the fans WILL understand (they always do!)

Loves to pair undershirts with his collection of Hawaiian shirts. Of course, his pink hibiscus is a staple, but so is the mesh/fishnet unders he puts on when he starts to transition to an alternative style.

picked up drums around 15, but got really focused on it and mastered them fairly quickly before they went pro

Prefers his nail polish to match with his shirt that day!

JIMMY

Does not have dyed hair either, but he likes to keep it long-ish. It hides his face better but also gets in the way when he doesn't want it to.

Had a battle jacket, but the sleeves got damaged when he hosted a bonfire and he did not pay attention to the fucking bonfire. That's alright though, he turned into a battle vest!

Overall more of a grunge aesthetic/style

YES his crust pants are REAL stop ASKING HIM !!

Songwriting has been a part of him since he was little. it was his way to vent, a way to cope, a way to be in control of the narrative

Didn't know when he was younger, but Jimmy has perfect pitch. When he figures this out, he boasts about it in his guitar classes

Buuuuuut it just means the other kids asked him to turn their guitars. That stopped very quickly after he smashed someone's guitar.

Picked up guitar when he was 8. His dad was going to throw it out, but little Jimmy insisted he keep it and that he would find someone who would buy it off of him. Maybe a teacher at school or something.

But instead go buying it from him, a teacher sits him down and teaches him how to play. He gets so lost in it, he begs the teacher to keep it here and teach him more after school. That teacher also teaches him how to write music!

Learns how to do makeup because he’s jealous of Anya- always touching his face so gently to fix his makeup. Quickly learns that all he can really do is his own eyeliner, and even then it’s mid

He’s trying though! (when Jimmy clams the fuck down he eventually goes to Anya and asks her to teach him. They have a nice bonding moment. (the worms demand more, so more there will be- here when I post)

Prefers black nail polish, demands he does it himself (Curly convinces him to let Dai do with Jimmy can't get his hands to stop shaking before a concert. Dai continues to do them after)

Bracelets and chains out the waazoo. When he warms up enough, he lets the band borrow some for shows. (Dai does attempt to actually steal one at some point. Jimmy breaks his nose over it (The worms have plans, you’ll find out why!)

Will! It! Boof! Welcome to Jimmy’s favorite game show! Can it be smoked? He’s fucking got it baybeeee!!

That is to say, he smokes cigarettes, vapes, weed, carts, dabs- yeah man. At least the things that wont get him in serious trouble with the law (at least… not for a little bit…)

CURLY

The oldest of the group, beside Swansea when he makes his appearance.

Mid-short blond hair, also undyed. He does get a perm sometimes. When Jimmy does missing, he has a full breakdown and dyes his hair black, but that's later that's later thatslaterthatdlater

Has snakebites and an eyebrow piercing

Nipple piercings WHO SAID THAT

When the band goes pro, Pony Express records demands the front man have a certain image because thats what’s hot with audiences and they need to bring in as much revenue as possible with their first album or they get dropped

Picked up guitar freshman year of high school when he was accidentally enrolled in a guitar class. Some kid said he had perfect pitch, and Curly thought he would be the perfect person to ask about turning his guitar

Only he misunderstood. Though he asked him to tune it for him- Maybe he heard someone ask him about that earlier? He took the guitar with a smile, then smashed It to the ground like he was killing a bug.

The end of freshman year, just before the final for the class, some kid came up to him to tell him his instrument was out of tune. and that he could show him if he'd like. So he doesn't get bumped a letter grade, ya know?

The kid tunes it- just in time, because Grant's name was just called from the now empty class room.

Sophomore year, Curly is enrolled in a choir class, where he discovers his love and talent for singing. Sometimes when he does solos in the classroom, he feels someone watching him from the window in the door.

Prefers yellow nail polish! He loves the contrast of his nails against his outfit since he’s usually in all back

Wears mostly suits. It's what his parents put him in growing up, so he has a ton and they just feel natural. Does it hurt when Jimmy convinces him to rip them up for a concert? Only a little ;-; Does it make the audience go wild? Only a lot :)

Wears Jimmy’s chains way before the rest of Tulpar have access to them

SWANSEA

Tulapr’s manager before and after they get signed with Pony Express Records.

Usually wears a track suit or something, very casual around the crew. After they get signed though, hes always dressing in P.E records merch, ad later Tulpar merch when PER authorizes it!

Keeping his backstory mostly the same, his struggle with addiction does come into play with the story I have in mind

Used to be really into the punk scene. If you loook really close, you can see the holes from his snakebites and brow bars. No one can see it, but he also used to have a septum piercing.

He has a stash of his old clothes on the bus when Tulpar is tour-ready! He also becomes the resident seamstress if a costume rips or malfunctions :)

#mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #mouthwashing au #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #mouthwashing band au #band au #jimcurl #jimcurly #curly x jimmy #jimmy x curly #tulpar band au

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erinwantstowrite · 1 year ago

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Let me just quickly say, cross-overs can sometimes get REALLY difficult to map out and write in a cohesive way but you have absolutely NAILED IT!! I absolutely ADORE LoF!!! I usually don’t even bother reading fics with the ‘Richard Grayson is Richard Parker’ premise cause I felt like they were super confusing and overcomplicated but this fic?? SUPERB. ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. OH MY GOD I ADORE IT. Everyone’s characterizations are so nice and wonderful aaaaaaah!!!! <33333

Ok ok I did actually have a question as well: would you be willing to share what your writing process looks like in terms of a chapter you’ve already posted? I was just wondering since I’m also currently working on my own fic (it’s been a few years but I managed to get fixated on an idea and it grew legs lol) and I’m currently fighting the organization of it haha.

How do you keep track of the plot points and/or foreshadowing you want to get a ‘lightbulb!’ moment for later? Do you have any tips?

Thank you so much! I absolutely adore your writing AND your art is so gorgeous omg it adds so much to the incredible story :DDD I hope you have a good day!!

I have a secret: I actually didn't like "Richard Grayson is Richard Parker' tag for a while for the same reason. Sometimes they felt like they missed the mark or it's just. A thing that's there? I almost didn't include it for LoF, but I'm glad I did because it changed the direction in such a big way.

Another secret: this made me incredibly happy because I have read so many wikis and scoured the internet to make sure that I had enough info on both fandoms so LoF could make sense to anyone who's reading it, whether they know Spider-Man, Batfam, or neither at all. Sometimes I worry a lot before I post that I'll miss a mark and will confuse people.

As for the question: I definitely am willing to share what my writing process looks like!

Be prepared for under the cut, I love to yap. It's in my blood to yap. And that's why it took a minute to get to this ask haha

(Spoilers for Leap of Faith!! Everything mentioned has already been published ((Chapters 1-11))

I had to go and find out which chapter I wanted to use as an example and I think we're gonna go with Chapter 5 for the most part :)

My writing process is, as described by alighterwood:

I think the description fits because while I'm all over the place, I have to be very detail oriented and I store everything in one spot.

Starting with the overall process, what I find is most helpful for me, when organizing, is having a notebook rather than doing it all digitally. I've been using a 70 sheet notebook that I had lying around waiting to be used, and as of yesterday, I officially filled the entire thing front to back. It's been an incredible help, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it's a lot easier to remember something I physically wrote down than it is to remember something I typed. I'm now on to my second notebook for LoF, and I might even have to get a third.

In another ask, startupkat asked me this:

And I shared a little about my outline process there, but I'll try to go into a little more depth here. Emphasis on little because this is so long.

I write a truly insane amount of outlines in this notebook.

This is just what I can show you, but a good chunk of the notebook is just outlines. Over and over and over again. That's because they're always changing/adapting based on so many different factors. Sometimes I get to a chapter I thought I had fully planned out and then realize it just doesn't work anymore. Other times, I get to the chapter and realize I don't want to write that anymore/isn't as interesting as I thought it would be. A few times I got halfway through a POV of a scene I was struggling on and decided to switch POV's, which will change up the outline for a chapter every now and then.

Which is why I don't write incredibly detailed outlines and try to keep it vague until I actually get to that chapter. It's a lot less daunting to rewrite a chapter outline than it is to rewrite the entire outline.

Fic outlines and Chapter outlines look a lot alike.

This is what I said in the other ask, but I didn't elaborate on it all the way.

I make a list just like that, and then I try to put it in chronological order/in an order that makes sense. I keep the Fic outline vague by writing down "Goals" for a chapter rather than scenes. But I also keep notes to myself if I really think something is important. The more important I think a scene needs to be, the more details I write down to make sure my future self recalls what I had in mind when I thought it up.

Really simple example:

Chap 1 Goal: Peter gets to Gotham and meets Babs while running around. Meet Nightwing too? Get shelter.

Chapter 2 Goal: Bats are like "???" about Peter. Batfam dynamic important... Peter stalking Batfam back? Peter meet Batman >:)

When I get to a chapter, that's when I make a far more detailed list of wants/needs/goals. It's the Step 2 from the Step 1. Here are some examples from Chapter 5:

Needed to have:

More POV's from universe 1299 (Peter's home universe)

Tony's POV more specifically, how he's doing/feeling, what he's figured out

What they've figured out on 1299 side vs what's going on in 1300 (Gotham)

Explaining more about Peter's trauma/his past

Dick learning more about Peter, and vise versa

Wanted to have:

Ned being a more central character

Natasha :)

Loki being a little shit

Tony and Cap bickering

Peter talking to Nightwing again

The last name Grayson

Gymnastics!!

(This is the shortened list, because the chapters are so long)

When I looked at this list before writing my outline, I had to figure out how I could incorporate everything. If I needed more 1299 POV's, and I wanted Ned, Natasha, and Loki, there's one scene accounted for. I had to get their side of things and wanted that trio together. I needed a Tony POV, and I wanted Tony and Cap bickering, so those went together, plus I got 1299's POV of Ohnn and his plans explained.

I needed to have Peter explaining more about his trauma, and Dick and Peter to talk/get closer. I wanted a Nightwing POV, to have Peter say his last name, and them doing gymnastics. I knew Peter wouldn't willingly talk about that, so I had him have a nightmare. Not only did it give readers perspective but it made Peter more susceptible to talking to Nightwing because he was more emotionally vulnerable/lonely, and that's how that scene came together.

That's when I would write down the chronological order of these events by writing out "Scene Blocks." (This is what I wrote down but my handwriting was so bad I can't subject y'all to it):

scene 1- Ned talking to Loki. Natasha should be nearby and observing Loki's behavior. They are not on friendly terms. Ned is more worried about Peter than he is as to what Loki could be up to, so Natasha takes on that role.

scene 2- Tony is freaking out about Peter being in an alt dimension. He should attack Ohnn when he's not prepared for it. Beat his ass? Beat his ass. Cap there too.

scene 3- Peter's nightmare. "Ben, where do you go when you die?" "Where do you think?" "With you. Where you went."

scene 4- Nightwing and Peter.

Of course, things come to attention when writing. Like originally, Tony and Cap were arguing in the Tower. But it was a little too much like his and Natasha's argument, and I kept in mind that Tony is smart. Sometimes I forget that the characters are smarter than I am, so I have to account for what they would figure out. So Tony would have picked up the puzzle pieces and come to more conclusions than I originally thought about, and I figured he'd be way more proactive about it than just. Being in the Tower and waiting.

Which means that that scene ended up being as listed above: having a squabble with Cap, learning more about Peter's dynamic with the Avengers in this universe, and seeing how Tony is reacting to it by throwing himself head first into trying to capture Ohnn.

I'll realize I need something else to be mentioned or put in and I'll have to shimmy things around, but that's basically how it goes.

As for other forms of organization:

Keeping a timeline is so important because it tells you a lot about the environment your characters are in. It's also important to remember what a character has on them, what money they've spent, who they've met/who you have mentioned, every alias that is being used, to read your work and write down edits you want to make before you make them, to write down ideas beforehand of situations you can use, and, most importantly: MAKE A MAP!! This has saved me so many times. Sometimes your brain WILL trick you or make it harder on you to envision a scene. Make a map of where your characters are physically!! It will save you too!!

As for foreshadowing and plot points, I'll let you in on yet another secret:

Your subconscious is doing a lot more than you think it is.

Sometimes when I foreshadow something, I didn't even know I was until I got to it. I very often go back to read chapters that came before this to see what I've mentioned and what I haven't, and when I do, I'll see something and go "I have to bring this back" or "I almost forgot about that!"

Other times, I am very aware of what I'm foreshadowing, and that's because I follow a mystery plot formula. You have to keep in mind everyone's intentions, all the time. How are they feeling? What are their motivations? And: what are they doing right now, while this character is doing this?

Like Beck and Ohnn. From the very beginning, I knew I had to make sure that it was obvious Ohnn wasn't working alone. From there, I had to weave through the story and slowly build him up as someone who's working behind the scenes. Even from Ned's first POV, I made sure to mention that this person knows Tony and is tech savvy.

My biggest tip is to make sure you reread your work or at least skip through it, because sometimes you don't even know that you placed something there.

And sometimes, it's very purposeful. :)

I hope this helped! I really tried to keep it short but I am insane and the process is sooooo long. It sounds complicated but it really is simple when you're actually doing it I swear

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erinelliotc · 1 year ago

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I was thinking about "A Fistful of Ed" because I always see people talking about how gay they're being in this scene. I personally never thought much about it because Eddy's using Double D's reputation as a bully to earn respect from the other kids and boss everyone around and that naturally makes him very excited and makes him cling to Double D (more than usual), which in the end doesn't change how gay the scene is because there was no need for him to be so nice to Double D and worry so much about making him comfortable in order to use him (like when he makes Double D his wife/romantic partner in his scams/plans. There's no need for this, it doesn't change anything in the plan, he just adds this part because he wants to). Double D is already his long time friend, he didn't need to act differently in any way to use him to his advantage, he just had to be around him as usual.

And before even thinking about ruling the place, Eddy's first reaction was to be impressed and extremely excited and admired by Double D, finding him very cool, and I'd say he even seems attracted to that side of Double D. With this vision in mind, the way he starts to act towards Double D from then on seems like someone "marking territory", wanting to show that that cool and strong guy already has an owner. Eddy's feeling like the luckiest guy in the world to be close to such a cool guy like him. The scene now has a "Look at my cool boyfriend who's going to kick your ass! You wish you had him, but he's mine!" energy. He also wants to be nice to Double D to please and seduce him.

From this, I conclude that part of his excitement is because he's actually genuinely proud and happy for Double D that he has finally become more confident and learned to be able to defend himself, something we know he really wanted to happen and tried to help Double D with in "Tag Yer Ed" (one of my favorite episodes because it shows how much Eddy cares about Double D, as he spends the entire episode, spontaneously, just dedicating himself to helping Double D be stronger and more confident because he can't stand seeing him being mistreated by others), and besides, I think he might find it hot to see Double D show an aggressive, strong, confident and determined side for a change, and that also makes him admire him more and think he's cool because it reminds him of his brother, the person he admires most in the world.

In fact, I came to this interpretation because I was reflecting more and this scene from "A Fistful of Ed" reminded me of a post someone made about a scene from "Tinker Ed" (a post that Danny Antonucci shared on Facebook by the way!!!) and made me draw a parallel between the two scenes.

The post talks about how Double D's smitten with Eddy in this scene. He doesn't seem like someone who's just happy for his friend, his expressions indicate that he seems to be melting with love for Eddy's unexpected kindness. He's completely touched by just seeing Eddy being kind, as if this were his weakness, something that makes him more attracted to Eddy.

But the impression I have is that Eddy's acting like this on purpose, trying to seduce Double D (maybe not from the beginning, but the moment he realizes that Double D is completely melting in love with him, he immediately takes advantage of the moment) because he was so inexplicably sweet in this scene, he never acts like that, but he knows how much Double D appreciates kindness. There's no heterosexual explanation (so much so that this episode's storyboard was made by Raven Molisee, so it was certainly intentionally gay). It seems to me that he just wanted to share a sweet romantic moment with Double D and wanted to melt his heart by showing him how kind he can be sometimes. Like, Double D says he's very proud of Eddy in the most passionate tone of voice possible, and Eddy immediately reacts by reciprocating and wrapping him in his arm, and the detail of his hand on Double D's waist always gets me. And Eddy even keeps showing off to Double D, bragging about his kindness, saying he's "all heart". And on top of that, Eddy saying "Right, Ed?", asking him to confirm what he's saying, why does he suddenly involve Ed in the situation? It seems a lot like that kind of situation where a guy asks his friend to help him win over his crush by confirming the things he tells his crush with the intention of seducing him. Like, why is he trying so hard to convince Double D that he's a sweetheart? I don't know any other way to interpret this other than him blatantly flirting with Double D. They exchange lots of touches and looks and end the scene walking away hugging each other exactly like a couple, and they do it so naturally.

Anyway, the parallel I wanted to draw when comparing both scenes was that in both they surprise each other with unexpected behaviors that please them. Eddy was attracted to Double D's supposed aggressiveness and determination, and Double D was attracted to Eddy's supposed kindness and sweetness. They're also both proud of each other in both scenes.

#ed edd n eddy #ededdneddy #eene #ed edd and eddy #eddeddy #eddxeddy #edd x eddy #eddyedd #eddyxedd #eddy x edd #eene analysis #my analysis #danny antonucci #raven molisee #eene crew

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alexthebordercollie · 7 months ago

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TW: SENSITIVE TOPIC MENTION So umm... I mean this as politely as I can. But is the H! Ford blog borderline sexual or something? The recent posts gave a lot of whiplash, like the DEVIANTART kind. The art is nice in certain ways, but it's not going to tread into SA territory right???

First off, the "DEVIANTART" insult, uncalled for. But should make this super clear.

Hand of God is a horror AU about domestic abuse and intimate partner violence.

This does include allusions to SA. The blog on tumblr isn't likely to get more graphic than what's been shown, but the Hand of God fic on ao3 is already tagged with these elements. I've shared links to the ao3 fic before and thought this element of HoG had been fairly upfront I appologize if I didn't make that clear enough for people.

If SA is a triggering subject that's understandable, in that case HoG may not be for you. I honestly didn't initially expect the in character blog to pick up so much traction so quickly so had been fairly committed to keeping it in character but since it's been getting bigger I'll make sure everything is tagged so people who don't want to see those parts can filter them out.

There have been clues prior to the recent abuse cycle I posted from H that hint at this. He was aggressive with Pyronica for exposing his bare arms to people. There's a morbid joke made about it but H has a complicated relationship to his body that comes from years of abuse. He also sometimes behaves in a sexualized fashion as a way of taking back some sense of ownership of his sexuality, which is a common trauma response for SA survivors.

I know there's plenty of Billford stuff that depicts dubious consent scenarios that are framed as hot or funny. HoG shows how these things affect H as a character. The damage it does to him. The most recent posts show him having a manic episode after an intense exchange with his partner. He gets these not too infrequently from their sexual exchanges because these exchanges often involve a lot of intense BDSM and no aftercare. Consent is usually ambiguous because the power imbalance makes it so H can't really say no to his partner. Bill also often uses sex as a way to emotionally manipulate Ford.

The blog obviously isn't going to be all these kinds of posts because abuse isn't a constant state of 11. There are peace periods, and there are periods of love bombing. There are still going to be posts of H acting normal and talking about the more "mundane" parts of his life. These bouts of intensity I plan to space out and break up with more light-hearted posts intended to cool things back down. Abuse victims are not defined by their abuse and depictions of abuse should still strive to show these characters as full people and not just a series of bad things that happen to them.

His relationship with D is completely asexual. He finds a lot of comfort and catharsis in showing D the kind of gentle intimate affection H needs but isn't getting from his own partner. Using D as a sort of proxy to fulfill those needs for safety and comfort. A lot of the crossover fic concepts for these characters are very overtly about trauma recovery and how these two and their contrasting trauma responses help each other, and sometimes how they hurt each other unintentionally due to behaviors they have minimal control over.

It's two very damaged people huddling together for warmth. Neither knows how to help the other, but they care about each other and can connect in ways they can't easily with other people.

To list anything else about HoG that may be triggering,

H experiences both manic and depressive episodes. He has been conditioned to behave in violent ways by Bill. He experiences a kind of body dysmorphia that comes from feeling like his body doesn't belong to him, which is sometimes expressed in contrasting ways. He's a severe alcoholic and is regularly abused using illicit substances. It's gotten to the point he's just used to it as part of his life. He often turns to various drugs of his own accord when looking for escapism. H has lost most of his friends and family, and Bill isolates him from people who might be able to offer him a support network outside their relationship. Bill tolerates D because D also worships Bill. H also experiences splitting a common symptom of BPD and NPD. H expresses a lot of the symptoms of NPD. H sees himself as fundamentally poisonous on some level. He engages in a lot of self-destructive behaviors. Bill has convinced him he's a monster, that he's unlovable, that only Bill could ever love him unconditionally.

I repeat, this is a horror AU about domestic violence.

List of upsetting subject matter contained in HoG. None of these things are meant to be held as romantic. This ship is abuse. Ford Pines is being abused.

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rhodes-knightwife · 3 months ago

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Hello~! Been a while, hasn't it? I didn't die, and I've still been playing plenty of Arknights, but unfortunately I just haven't had the drive to really post anything too substantial for a while... until now. Until her.

Listen. Listen to me. I've loved this woman for a lot less time than some of y'all, only ever since the Hortus de Escapismo Rerun, but that doesn't mean she hasn't been living rent free in my head ever since. And well, while I have all these thoughts, let's revive a bit of an old idea of mine to marry two hobbies, one that I planned to do with her sister first, ironically enough...

Can you build Lemuen in Pathfinder 2e?

This is gonna be a long one folks, bear with me.

I'm not gonna go over too much Pathfinder stuff in this post, I'll try to keep it light for the newbies. I'll be going over the build in simple terms and only truly diving into the specifics for when they're especially appropriate to the character, so buckle up.

One quick thing to address: the wheelchair. It's a big part of what makes Lemuen so badass, that she can not only fight and be effective despite her disability but sometimes because of it! And it'd be just terrible to remove it... so we won't! Pathfinder has actual, official, encoded rules for wheelchairs, and they all basically mean she can operate as normal even in combat, don't worry. In fact, the chair itself will play into one or two tricks she'll have later!

For those new to Pathfinder character creation, you always start with your ABCs: Ancestry, Background, Class! The first is easy, thankfully; Sankta translate pretty much perfectly into the role of Empyreans – or aasimar, for our D&D friends. So, human with the nephilim heritage to make her an empyrean will give us all the heavenly flavor we might want.

Background-wise, while it would be easy and fair to argue that she should go with some sort of religious role, I think leaning on her time in the Pontifica Cohors Lateran and making her a Warrior makes the most sense, and gives us a few little nice additions for later.

Finally, the class is obvious... sorta. We're making her a Gunslinger, and hopefully I don't need to explain why. Why did I say 'sorta', then? Well... listen, if you wanna dip into yoinking a class from Starfinder, I think you could argue making her an Operative is an even better fit in some ways, but let's stick to the core system here! (But if this post does well enough... who knows?)

Without bothering with all the numbers, those choices leave us with solid attributes for what we want; max Dexterity is a given to aim that big ol' rifle, and a little bit of Strength from her military background will help her handle something with some recoil. A bit of angelic Charisma and just a tiny smidge of tactical Intelligence means that Constitution and Wisdom are our dump stats right now – not ideal, but five years in a coma will do that to you.

But that's all abstracts, all stuff that every character has; let's get to the juicy stuff!

Level 1

We get several new feats to start off, so let's touch on a few before we jump to her class abilities. First, let's make her an Angelkin, which fits well enough while giving her new languages, with the Empyrean language among them to stand in for Sankta empathy, at least for now. Her Warrior background also gives Lemuen one hell of an Intimidating Glare, meaning that even if whoever's on the other end of her gun's barrel doesn't speak one of her many languages, her eyes can still get the message across.

Now, we look to her class; Gunslinger subclasses are called 'Ways', and I only need to tell you one is called the 'Way of the Sniper' for you to know what we're choosing. Right now, this means that Lemuen's first shot in a fight deals extra damage thanks to well-placed aim, and that she can duck behind cover and hide as she reloads between shots to try and catch enemies off-guard. As for the feat proper, let's go with Hit the Dirt!, which lets Lemuen leap (or, roll) out of the way of a ranged attack and land prone to try and dodge it. This is actually somewhat helpful in her case, as being prone can help her hunker down and take cover from any returning fire while she sits dozens of feet away from the action.

Lastly for level 1, we have the stuff to round out the character; skills and equipment. She already has Stealth, Intimidation and Society (from her subclass, background and ancestry feat), but she gets a few extra; I won't be going into specifics here, so feel free to choose whichever feels right for you, though of course Religion is appropriate. Likewise, I won't touch on her equipment aside from mentioning her weapon: an arquebus. (Again, no fancy Starfinder guns!) It deals 1d8 damage... until Lemuen crits, at which point she adds another die and makes them all into d12s! And Gunslingers are very good at critting indeed. The tradeoff is that we needed some extra Strength to handle the kickback, but such is life!

And that's level 1! Things will go faster from here, don't worry.

Early Game (2-5)

Level 2 sees us get our first skill feat besides Intimidating Glare, but since they're so tied to skills and largely just quality of life improvements, I'll treat them the same as skills and leave specifics to you, if you try this build. This level also gets us another Gunslinger feat though, and that's much more fun! But we'll actually be going for something called an archetype here, meaning we give up our Gunslinger feat for something from a subset of feats that any character can take and grants some thematic abilities.

Don't worry, we're staying close to home; specifically, we're taking the Sniping Duo Dedication, which will allow Lemuen to designate an ally as her spotter and get a bunch of cool bonuses when fighting alongside them! Right now, Lemuen and the spotter both get a neat little damage boost on their next attack after the other hits an enemy.

(If you would rather stick with Gunslinger though, both Defensive Armaments and Warning Shot make for fun picks!)

Level 3 gets us a nifty class feature that allows a second save against any mind-controlling effects, through sheer stubbornness alone! Fitting, I'd say. Besides that, it gets us an increase to one of our skills – I recommend Stealth this early one – as well as a general feat! Once again, these are very broad and generic upgrades that often come down to personal preference, so I won't choose them for you.

Level 4 is the same as the second, and you'll see a pattern forming there! A skill feat of your choice, plus a class feat. We're dipping to Sniping Duo again to get Assisting Shot, meaning we make it easier for our allies to hit any enemy we've just shot. It doesn't even have to be our spotter, either! (If you're avoiding Sniping Duo though, Running Reload or one of the recommendations from level 2 works well too!)

Level 5 will boost three of our stats, which is pretty huge. We sink one into Dex; it doesn't actually increase since it's already so high, but it will when we reach level 10 and do this again. Besides that, upping our Charisma, Intelligence and Wisdom shores up some our previous weaknesses and boosts Lemuen's diplomatic and intimidation abilities!

Besides that, we get another skill increase, we get even better at shooting people (Lemuen is a Master with guns at level 5, which is ludicrous), and we get a whole new ancestry feat! There's not any especially thematic options for us here at level 5, so I'll go back to a first level feat, though one from her human side this time. Cooperative Nature simply makes us better at helping people out when they try difficult checks, and that seems fitting to me!

Mid-game (6-10)

Level 6 brings back the pattern of a skill feat and a class feat. We'll hop back on the main Gunsliger track to snag the appropriately named Sniper's Aim, which lets us take a longer time aiming our shots to make them more accurate; better one shot that hits than two that miss! Plus, it's a damn good impression of her S2, if you ask me, especially with the added caveat that it ignores concealment.

Level 7 is quick for us: a general feat, a skill increase, a boost to our Perception and a flat damage increase. Very nice, but no big choices for the build.

Level 8, however, brings more fun goodies! Besides another skill feat, we actually hit a bit of a split in our build, because your choice depends on what kind of build your spotter has. If your spotter is a ranged attacker (like, say, a certain redheaded sister with a love for automatic guns), then going for Sniper Duo's Vantage Shot feat is very nice, allowing both Lemuen and her spotter to roll Stealth against a target when the other shoots them, making them off-guard to the next attack on a success. This will be especially nice for Lemuen very soon!

But, if you're not using the archetype, or your spotter is more focused on melee attacks or utility magic, then Smoke Curtain is your best bet. Remember that time in the video where Lemuen did some sick wheelchair drifts and spread out a smokescreen to snag her sister out of danger? Well, here's that! Fire a shot and watch the whole area go up in smoke, giviny ou some really nice cover to Hide in using your special reload. On top of that, Sniper's Aim lets you ignore the smoke and aim perfectly despite it!

Level 9 brings with it a skill increase, as well as an ancestry feat; let's go with Cooperative Soul to upgrade the last one. Now, when aiding your party, you simply cannot fail to help them!

The more important aspect of level 9 though is a new ability from the Way of the Sniper; a new kind of shot that can leave targets bleeding if you catch them off-guard! Hope you've been putting those Stealth skills and abilities to good use!

Level 10 is a juicy one. Not only do we get more boosts to our attributes, letting us actually increase Dex and bump our other stats even more, but it also gets us another skill feat and class feat combo! Let's finally get our S1: Penetrating Fire lets us fire at two targets with one bullet, so long as they're in a line.

Late Game (11-15)

Level 11 gets us a skill increase, a general feat, and an increase to our Reflex saves. Nice!

Level 12 gives us another skill feat and lets us get a lite version of Lemuen's incredibly badass S3 with Shattering Shot. So long as you have an alchemical bomb to throw, this lets you throw it out and snipe it right out of the air, letting the damage rain down on a much wider area.

Level 13 increases both our armor proficiency, making us a little harder to tear through than wet tissue paper, and our weapon proficiency, putting us at the highest possible proficiency with guns far before almost any other character. It also gets us a skill increase and an ancestry feat! Let's do Celestial Mercy, which will let us cast the cleanse affliction spell twice a day. Minor poisons and diseases, begone! (Lemuen doesn't have healing arts or anything, but big sister powers make any care she gives magical in its own way.)

Level 14 is another even level, so skill feat and class feat! There's a feat called Headshot. Need I say more? No, but I will at least explain that it has a chance to instantly kill the target! Assuming you crit, and they fail a save, and you already shot them once before, and that they're not higher level than you... look, sometimes you just take a feat because it's cool.

Level 15 is a doozy! This one lets us increase our stats yet again, which means preparing to increase both Dexterity and Charisma at level 20, and actually increasing two other stats; it might be a good time to actually get some Constitution...

Besides that, we get the customary general feat and skill increase, an increase to the flat damage from level 7, and the last Way of the Sniper ability, which is a special kind of shot that applies that damage bonus from all the way at level 1 to any attack, not just the first in a fight.

End Game (16-20)

Final stretch! Level 16 is another skill feat and the Fatal Bullet class feat, meaning that our critical hits with our arquebus deal yet another d12 of damage.

Level 17 lets us ignore any penalties for firing up to three times our base range, making that range effectively 450 feet, which might as well be range: "yes". It also gets us a skill increase and the final ancestry feat, for which we take our real S3: Divine Declaration. It lets us cast the divine decree spell, which can best be described as 'Angelfireball', or a massive explosion of holy damage that can weaken creatures and even banish beings back to the planes from whence they came.

Level 18 means a skill feat and a class feat, so let's take Piercing Critical, which means rolls of a natural 19 are also automatic crits. The level curve has caugh up to your gun skills by this point, so extra chances to crit the boss always help.

Level 19 is the final skill increase and general feat, and also increases our armor class proficiency to Master! Better late than never.

And finally, level 20! One last skill feat! One last boost to our stats to max out Dex, put Cha as high as we could, and shore up whatever other stats we want! And one last feat in the form of Perfect Readiness, which gives us an extra action every single turn to reload or reposition! Whew... what a trip.

Roundup

So, here at the end, let's take a long look at what we have and if we've hit our goals. We do have pretty good analogues for all of Lemuen's main skills, although S1 is a bit more finnicky than I would have liked. We even have a decent analogue to her first talent with all the Sniping Duo feats! And well, I'd say this all fits pretty well into the 'badass with a sniper' category, so I'm happy, thematically. What about gameplay?

Here's our pros: we are absurdly good with guns, which comes naturally as a Gunslinger. We're ahead of the curve for most of those levels and we have ways to make our shots even more likely to crit. By the end, our shots will be dealing 4d8+1d6+8 damage, which is nuts enough for a ranged weapon without even getting into the 6d12+2d6+16 damage we do on crits, or all the extra bits of damage certain kinds of shot can tack on. We also do all that at positively absurd ranges if needed, going up to 150 feet even from level 1. We even have decent area damage, though a little limited.

However, we do have a fair few cons too: namely, low Con and only passable AC means we really need that range because we do not want to be close to the fight. Enemies can shred you like confetti, and you're extremely easy to grab. In addition, the sheer amount of different kinds of attack we accumulate is great... but only if you can keep up and manage them properly. It's hard to know which of the upwards of six or seven ways you have to shoot your gun is best to use in the moment.

So that's it! This post was one hell of a thing to write up, but I had tons of fun. If people have any thoughts, leave them in the comments or message me about 'em! I love both these games to death and would love to do more of these. Who should be next? Or should we just spring for Lemuen in Starfinder instead? The full release of SF2e is just around the corner...

#arknights #pathfinder #pf2e #lemuen #character building #pathfinder 2e #holy crap this was a lot #very fun tho

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