#i went on a sands of time tangent in the middle there SORRY

[lazuliquetzal]

Tell me your thoughts about gameplay and story integration in video games :3

(THANKS ILY TOO!)

Video games are a super interesting medium because it's all about leveraging player behavior and choice. A lot of game design fundamentals are about giving the player freedom, or the illusion of freedom. The game maker sets the rules, and the player organically develops behaviors and strategies within those rules. If you want the player to act a certain way, you have to encourage them to act in that way. (Watch one of the bazillion analysis videos on Super Mario Bros. World 1-1 sometime.)

In games there are ways to punish a player (death, losing progress, jumpscares, etc) and there are ways to reward a player (score go up, unlock new thing, get more power, etc). Story can be part of that, and it can go beyond "play well = good end, play poorly = bad end."

I think, if you're going to use a video game to tell your story, you should really take advantage of it, you know? Flex the medium. Leverage the inherent immersion that comes with the player Interacting With The Game. Inscryption and Undertale are So Video Game that you can't adapt it to a different medium without significant rework. They are video games because they have to be video games. That doesn't make them automatically good, but a good storyteller would choose the medium that works best with their story and that confidence just oozes out, in a good way.

You don't even have to get all 4th wall meta with your video game plot. In Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, the main Gimmick is that you have a time-traveling dagger. You can use it to make combat sequences easier, you can use it to solve puzzles, but it's also integral to the entire experience. The time travel sets up the framed narrative, which pays homage to the literature that serves as the game's inspiration. The central conflict is resolved with the time travel mechanic. In gameplay, you make mistakes, experience consequences in battle, learn and do things correctly the next time around, which is the Prince's entire character arc. Even basic game mechanics are part of the story -- when you save, you get "tips and tricks!" in the form of visions that will help you solve puzzles, but some of those visions are plot-relevant. The menu itself has flavor dialogue that is part of the narrative frame and is also hilarious.

Some other examples: Papers, Please! explores bureaucracy as a tool of dehumanization under authoritarian governements, and the gameplay is all fine print and form-filling and menus. In GOW 2018, there are enemies that have elemental weaknesses, so you end up having to switch weapons. (This is a really common thing to do: new area w/ new enemies requires new weapon.) You unlock the Blades of Chaos so that you can enter Helheim. The Blades also have a backstory, and using them means something in Kratos's character arc, it's a whole Thing. In metroidvanias, you unlock new abilities so you can access new parts of the story and find things you missed the first time around -- really good for worldbuilding and creating a sense of depth to a location (the world of Blasphemous comes to mind). Majora's Mask gives you anxiety.

A buddy once asked if I thought a good plot could carry a crappy game, and my answer is no. You can't absorb the story if the primary mode of interacting with the story is unplayable. If the gameplay is detracting from the story, then you should make a movie or write a novel. Video games are experiences: gameplay should serve story, story should serve gameplay. *Tetris: Effect Voice* it's all connected!

I just enjoy it when stories are told in mediums that suit them best. It's satisfying! It's fun! Makes my brain go :D

[itsthestutterforme]

Broken Toy (Supernatural)

Characters: Dean x reader, Jo x Reader, Ellen x reader// SMUT 18+ ONLY

Summary: Y/N is a trauma riddled woman that does not have time for relationships. Sam and Dean rolled into town and couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

--

Y/N was relaxing at Ellen's bar while you were on your break. Ellen took you under her wing when she found out what happened to you family through a family friend. Ellen watched you grow up and to see you in pain, puts her in pain. Jo and Asher saw you as their big sister that they looked up to. They just wanted to help as much as they could.

Sam and Dean walk into the bar and you were the first thing that caught Dean's eye. He sat down next to you and said, "Hey there, beautiful." You took a sip of your lemonade before looking Dean in the eyes. Dean examines every inch of your face. "Believe me, you do not want to get involved with this," you say.

"Shouldn't that be up to me?" "Men like you view women as toys. I'm a broken toy, and no wants to play with a broken toy," you down the rest of her lemonade before leaving. "Ouch, did she just turn down the Dean Winchester?" Sam teases.

Dean watches as she walks in to the back room. Ellen walks out of the backroom and says something to Y/N. Y/N nods and Ellen puts one of her hands on Y/N's cheek. Dean watches the whole thing and doesn't say a word. "Hey boys, I didn't see you come in." Ellen greets as she hugs them.

"Hey, uh, what's her deal?" Dean says, motioning to you putting on her apron. "Boys, I know she's a looker, but she is off limits. She's lost so much so soon. And she's not ready for anything right now."

You walk passed them to take an order from someone who just sat down. The boys were helping with a case near the area and Ellen offered the boys a place to stay. In her house, there was a spare room with a couch that both of them could stay in. The both spent the night over Ellen's house.

Sam was sound asleep but Dean couldn't even shut his eyes longer than ten seconds. He got up and went downstairs for something to drink. You went downstairs for the same reason. You didn't hear or know her was there until you ran into him. You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him into the fridge before pressing your pocket knife to his throat.

"Y/N, it's me, Dean," he says, struggling to breathe against her grip. You pull away from him and tuck the knife back into your sock. "Sorry about that," you apologize. Dean couldn't help himself but to stare at your body through the oversized t-shirt and boxers. When you look at him, his eyes dart straight to your eyes.

"Couldn't sleep?" Dean asks. "I never can," you says as she reaches into the fridge to grab some orange juice. You take out two glasses and pour some juice in each. "Thank you," he mumbled. You stand in front of the window and sipped on your orange juice. "You know, Ellen and Jo are pretty protective over you."

"I'm the same way with them. They're all I have left." "Yeah, Sammy's all I have too." There was another silence and Dean watches as you look up at the moon absentmindedly. "You're not much of conversationalist, are you?" "I'm not one for small talk,"

"I can understand that." You look to him, unsure about his previous statment. You didn't buy it. "I find that hard to believe," "You know, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover," "I used to, but now, I wouldn't rather watch from a distance," "Hopefully not too far," Dean says. "The balls on you, dude," "Honey, you have no idea,"

**

Dean and Sam roll into Ellen's bar where Dean knows he'll face the wrath of Ellen and Jo. They made it known that you weren't in the right state of mind for a relationship or even a fling.

You had lost your close family to some deranged sicko at a gas station who decided to stab them to death. You was pregnant from a one night stand and when after five hours of labor, the baby was still born.

So yes, you were not in the right state of mind for anything. Dean respected that but still wanted to get to know you. Then he slowly started to fall for you. He knew you needed time and effort, and he put it in. He hung around for weeks and he gained your trust.

Things were going well until Dean found out about Sam drinking demon blood and was being manipulated by Ruby. And he had to leave. He didn't know how to say it because he already felt like shit about leaving you. He left in the middle of the night without a word and that shattered your world.

You cried in Ellen's arms for weeks, which fueled Ellen's anger. She warned them about your mental state and Dean went on a did this. Ellen knew that Dean would come back, and when he did, she would be ready for him.

"You have some nerve coming back here," Ellen says, crossing her arms. "I know," Dean dismissed, breaking her eye contact for a moment. "I heard what happened and I'm sorry Sam, but I'm still pissed at Dean for what he did to Y/N." "Right, thanks. And, uh, I'm sorry," Sam states.

"That's what Dean should be saying," "No matter how many times I say sorry, you're still not going to forgive me," "No, but it's a start," "You are such an asshole," Jo says once she sets eyes on him when she left the back room. "I outa smack you," she adds.

"I'm sorry, okay. I had to take care of Sammy," "Then you should have said that instead leaving her questioning what she did wrong." Jo snaps. "She was a wreck after you left, man," she adds. And speaking of the Devil, you walk in with your boyfriend.

"Who's that?" Sam asks. "That's her boyfriend, Ryan," "Hm, seems like someone moved on pretty quickly," Dean states before taking a sip of his beer. Jo brings her hand and smacks the back of his head. "What the hell!" Dean snaps. "You know what that was for," Jo spits.

You freeze in your tracks when you see Dean. Your grip on Ryan's hand tightens. "Are you okay?" Ryan asks. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just go," "What? You've been wanting Ellen's pie since last week," "I know, but I lost my appetite." You lie.

"Uh uh, we're not leaving." Ryan drags you to a table for two and wait until Jo comes over to take their order. You avoid eye contact from Dean and try your best to focus on Ryan. Y/N smiles at something Ryan says and for a split second, you let your guard down. You threw your head back and the vein on your forehead was pulsating from how hard you were laughing.

You collapsed into the crook of Ryan's arm and he rested his face ontop of your head as he laughs as well. Dean looks away and angrily clenches his jaw. "Dude, I know you don't want hear this but she's happy. Let her be happy," Sam tells him. "She was happier with me," Dean mumbles before taking a swig of his beer.

"And you messed that up by leaving her," Jo says as she cleans the back of the bar. "How many times do I have to tell you that I had to help Sam?" "Until you believe it, but clearly, I'm not," Jo snarks before leaving to give you and Ryan your food.

The night progresses and Ryan dragged you on the floor to slow dance. Dean's heart races when he sees Ryan's hands sliding a little lower than your waist. A little lower than Dean felt comfortable with. After a few slow dances, Ryan decides to go to the bathroom. Dean saw that as a perfect opportunity to talk to you.

You had your face towards the performing stage with your hands stuffed into your back pockets. "May I have this dance?" Dean asks as he holds out his hand. You turns around to face him and scoffed at him. "No, Dean," you tried to walk away from him. He grabbed your wrist and spun you until she hit his chest.

Man, it really felt good for you to be in his arms again. He thought to himself. "Dean, let me go," you say, trying to pull away from him. " Please, baby, just one dance," "Don't call me baby," you snap. "Alright, Y/N, I'm sorry. I just- please dance with me once." "If I do, will you leave me alone?"

"I will leave you alone and never ask you for anything," "Fine." You rolls her eyes and hesitantly wraps yours arms around him. One hand holds the back of your head and another trails down your back. Halfway through the dance, you think backs to the night Dean left.

You watched him pull out of the driveway after tossing his duffel bag in the passenger side. Your heart shattered to pieces and you fell apart in Ellen's arms. That night was seared into your brain. It was the first time you were emotionally hurt by someone else in a very long time.

Even after losing your child and her entire family, you'd never felt so much pain. You think that's because you felt completely absorbed by him. He engulfed you like the ocean over sand. You didn't even bother wiping away the tears that fell on your cheeks. You wanted Dean to know how much he hurt you.

You pull away from his chest and looked up at him to see Dean staring at her. "I hate you," you whimpers. "No you don't, baby," he whispers against your lips. Dean holds the side of your face and lifts your head up with his thumb. Ellen and Jo watches with both disappointment and shock.

Before you did something you'll regret, you pull away from him. You rushed towards the bathroom to get Ryan and nearly knocked him over. Ryan's hands fall to your hips and concern laced his eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You wiped away your tears and said, "I just want to go home," "Okay, we're going. Just let me get my stuff,"

Dean ran a head over his face before returning to Sam's side. "Wait, did he do this to you?" "No, Ryan, don't-" It was no use, Ryan went off on an angry tangent. "Hey!" Ryan starts. In a few strides, Ryan was in Dean's face. "Damn it," you mumbled to herself. You sprint between them and caught the punch that Ryan threw.

His eyebrows shot up with surprise as you holds his fist in your hand. You never mentioned that you could fight. Mainly because you thought of Dean whenever you did. "How did you-" "Believe me, baby. That's not a fight you would've won," you tell him before dropping his hand. You motions over to the table and said, "Go get your things,"

"She's your guardian angel, dude. 'Cause I would hav-" "Enough, Dean!" You turned around and shoved Dean into the table. "You have no right to come back here after what you did to me. None! You have no right to pretend like nothing happened, Dean!" You snaps and the entire bar went silent.

"Why are you even here?" you add. "What do you think?" "I want you to say it," "I want you. I've always wanted you," "Then why did you leave? And don't lie and say that it was because of Sam. That's just a cover up." Dean opens his mouth but no words come out of it. "Y/N," Ryan tries to touch your arm but you pulls away.

"You and I both know why you left. You left because you were scared of what you were feeling. So you ran at the first chance you got. You're a coward, Dean," you spit at him before walking out of the bar. Ryan calls after you when he follows you out. "I told you we should leave. And you and your stupid make ego got in the way."

"I know and I'm sorry, okay. I didn't know that was Dean," "Just take me home," you says as you climbs into the passenger side. You pull your knees to your chest and ignored the incessant chime of the seatbelt alarm. Looking out the window, you mentally check out and watched as the grass blurred together into masses of pine green.

**

Ryan leans in to kiss your cheek goodbye before leaving for work, but you pulls away from him. You decided to break up with him the night prior. He tried to convince you to take a break and not end things so abruptly. But you knew what you wanted, and you didn't want him.

You knew that Dean was parked down the street. He was trying to work up the courage to knock on the door. You bites your lip nervously as your thumb hovers over Dean's contact. You pressed the call button and brings it to your ear. He answers on the first ring.

"Hello?" "I know you're out there, Dean. You can come in." "Alright," he answers. You hang up and wait until the door creaks open and closed. "Y/N?" "Kitchen," you call out. You had your back to him and presses your warm hands on the cold surface. "I broke up with him a few days ago," you whisper.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. For everything," "You want anything? A burger? Pie? Booze? Pizza?" You turn around to see Dean a few inches from your face. He cups your cheeks and you sigh at his touch. His eyes softly scan your face in admiration. He loved everything about this woman, and scared the hell out of him.

He didn't even know if was possible to love someone so much that it physically hurt his heart. He hated feeling so vulnerable, but he realized that vulnerability and love are two sides of the same coin. You opened her eyes and leant up to attach your lips to his.

He hums lowly and trails his hands deeper into your hair. Your body fit perfectly against his and you tug him closer by his belt loops. "I fucking love it when you do that," he says against your lips. You chuckle and walk him into the counter. Without pulling away from his lips, you pull off his jean jacket and unbuttons his pants.

He picks you up and lays you on the counter top. He kicks off his pants and climbs on the counter top with you. "We're really about to do this on a counter top?" You ask. "Well it has always been a dream of mine," You roll your eyes playfully and pulls off her shirt to show that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"You're such a bad girl," he says, taking your breasts into his hands. He teases the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue and your back arches off of the counter. You're already starting to feel a knot build up in your stomach. You've always been sensitive on her boobs and Dean enjoyed that about you. You whine when he pulls away from you.

You lifts your hips off of the counter to help him take off your shorts. He inhales your scent with a soft moan. "I'll savor that in that pretty little pussy of yours, in a little bit," he grabs a hold of your breasts again and you groansl softly, making Dean hard in his boxers. He takes his knee and rubs it against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body.

"Oh God," you say, your eyes flutter closed. "Look at me," he commands and you comply. His hazel green orbs was slowly turning brown right before your eyes. He moves his knee a little faster and pinches your nipples. A hiss left your lips as your grip tightens when your orgasm ripped through you.

He takes off your underwear and throws them on the floor. "Come here," he says, wrap his arms around you and laying his back against the counter. "Now be a good girl and sit on my face," he whispers in your ear as he squeezes your bare ass. You shuffle yourself higher on his body. You gasp at the peach fuzz scraping your inner thighs.

He pulls your legs further apart until you are completely sitting on his face. Worrying about whether he could breathe, you try to sit up but he wraps his arms around your hips so you couldn't move. His tongue laps your folds and your body curls inward. A series of moans erupt from your chest when he flicks his tongue around your clit.

He does the twisting trick with his tongue that hits two of your g-spots at the same time. Your legs flexed and your grip on the counter was so tight that it hurt your palm. "Damn it, Dean. Please," you whimper. He sucks some of your juices as he drags his tongue along the top wall.

A yell left your mouth and your head flew back as he sucked the soul from your body. Your second orgasm took your breath away and your body slumped forward. Your hands rest a few inches away from his head. His grip loosened on your hips but he continues to lick and suck at your pussy.

Your muscles trembled at the mercy of his tongue. He dips his tongue in fast, shallow strokes and your hips move against him, begging for him to hit another g-spot. When he does, your eyes snap shut. He hits the spot over and over again until you fall apart.

You fall backwards on his legs and he sits up. He pulls your into lap and you moan when you feel the pressure of his hardened dick against your moist bundle. He pulls off his boxers and he hisses as his dick embraced it's freedom. You waste no time lowering yourself on to him.

He moans into your mouth as your walls clench around him. You softly bounce on him and he wraps his massive arms around your waist when he thrusts up into you. "I missed you, baby," he grunts. "I missed you too," you say breathlessly. You stop your movements and look him dead in the eyes. "But if you leave me like that again, I'll kill you," you add.

He slams his lips to yours and completely devoured your mouth with his tongue. He tried to pull away but you follow his lips and kiss him again. His hands covered your both of hips and you started to bounce on his a little faster than before, making sure your clench yourself around his tip.

A whiny moan left his mouth and you plant a comforting kiss against his lips. He grew impatient and carefully brings himself to his knees. He sets your back on the counter, which was still warm from his body. He plants one hand next to your head and the other rubs your clit as he thrusts into hard and deep.

Airy cries and grunts fill the room. Tears build up in your eyes as your body folds with overwhelming bliss. "Fuck, Dean!" "There you go, sweetheart." His thrusts slow down, but the continue to go deep inside of you. He bites down on the sensitive skin of your neck. His thrusts became sloppy and he releases himself but continued to buck his hips against you until you finally came.

Your eyes close and your hands cover your face because your body was absolutely exhausted. Dean's plump lips bless your check and neck when you hear the door creak open. "Y/N, you alright, sweetheart?" Ellen calls. Your eyes snap open and Dean jumps off of the counter to grab his clothes.

"D-don't come in, Ellen. We're-" "Oh my God, my eyes! I cannot unsee that," Ellen exclaims. She claps a hand over her eyes and you jump off the counter. "On the counter top too!? Jesus, you eat food on there. You guys are trifling," she scolds. "You really know how to ruin a moment, Ellen," Dean says.

"And you really know how to ruin someone's eyes , Dean," she snaps. You scramble to put on your clothes and Dean sends you a wink, making embarrassment flood your cheeks.

[artificialqueens]

Paper Boats, Pining, and the Sublime (Sashea) - Estuary

Summary: Sasha loves spending nights out with her best friend, Shea. Tonight is no exception. She wishes she could stop overthinking.

A/N: This is my first fic. It’s a a fluffy, pining piece and I hope y'all like it.

        Laughing loudly with little concern for slumbering tenants in nearby apartments, Sasha Velour and Shea Couleé meandered through dimly lit streets, part walking, part skipping, and part stumbling.

        "You’re sure that you know where we’re going? We’re nearing city limits,“ Sasha asked as Shea paused to ponder whether to make a right.

        "Yeah! But you have to promise you won’t bully me once I explain why we went there.” Shea replied, turning back from her decision-making to smile at Sasha.

        "You know I can’t bully you, Shea,“ Sasha hiccupped, remnants of drinking slurring her speech, "You would destroy me.”

        "You’re right bitch, but I’m still making you promise.“

        "Cross my heart.”

        Sasha knew there was another reason she couldn’t really bully Shea, one outside of Shea’s potential retaliation roasts. A reason related to how Sasha could find no real flaw in Shea. A reason that could not be acknowledged nor acted upon lest Sasha risk her friendship for rejection. A reason that was Sasha’s crippling, painful, constant love for Shea Coulée.

        Sasha was rational, she prided herself on it. She knew Shea wouldn’t want to date someone like her. Someone overly serious, anxious, and academic.

        Shea dated uber confident, runway-walking, impeccably styled women. Intimidatingly stunning women. 5-feet-long-legs women. The kind of women you could hear approach you on the street just from the sound of their clicking stilettos on cement.

        It wasn’t unusual that an amateur street photographer would ask to take Shea and her supermodel of the week’s photo. To ask to document them in all their glamour and elegance.

        When Shea and Sasha went out for Friday night drinks, it needn’t be said that there were no photo proposals.

        It was simple, really. It wasn’t that being a bald, unibrowed, peculiarly-dressed woman was bad. Sasha liked how she looked. It’s just that Shea didn’t like that. Shea didn’t want someone who looked like a statement. And she certainly didn’t want a pseudo-intellectual with a penchant for doubling down on and over-explaining said statement all the time. So there wasn’t any need to make a move. Any proposition would be laughable at best and friendship-destroying at worst.

        Despite all of that heart-crushing rationality, Sasha did allow herself some small indulgences. For instance, Sasha allowed prolonged mutual eye contact, as long as she looked away first. She could rest her head on Shea’s shoulder during a movie, as long as Shea was appropriately preoccupied with the film. On a few rare occasions, Sasha placed a delicate kiss on Shea’s hand in a show of silly, exaggerated cordiality.

        Nonetheless, Sasha’s general rule of thumb was that as soon as any of her actions couldn’t be waved away with the excuse of being an ‘affectionate friend’, it had to stop.

        She didn’t need to think about how the glittery, red mark of her lipstick on the back of Shea’s hand made her chest feel fuzzy and warm.

        Shea suddenly tossed her hair and announced: “Oh my god, my hands are so cold."

        "I told you that you should bring your gloves.” Sasha chastised, remembering her text message warning.

        "Girl, don’t look smug over my pain.“

        And before Sasha could begin to think about what she was doing, she reached out and grabbed Shea’s right hand with her left and earnestly shoved their joined hands into her jacket pocket.

        "T-to warm you.” Sasha stammered. Fuck. Sasha didn’t stutter. More importantly, Sasha didn’t grab her friend’s hands given the slightest opportunity and shove them into her pocket like some kind of middle schooler. Shea had to see Sasha’s inner turmoil.

        Shea smiled—is she smiling? Sasha’s frantic mind paused to wonder—and simply squeezed Sasha’s hand. They walked on, and as Shea chattered about the ins and outs of her most recent collection, Sasha became increasingly aware of how Shea’s hand stayed firmly wound with her own. By the third minute of Sasha’s internal count, she swore that her left hand was dripping with sweat. Shea’s hand had to feel warm now, if not a little gross. The cold air had to be preferable to Sasha’s clammy fingers. But Shea did not let go.

        Sasha never held hands like this. Typically whenever she held hands, the sweaty palms belonging to her and whatever partner she had at the time would clasp much like two business people finalizing a deal. It was practically an extended handshake. It held all the intimacy of accidentally brushing hands with a cashier. In private, Sasha didn’t hold hands much at all.

        But not right now.

        Deep within the pocket of Sasha’s fleece, each of her and Shea’s fingers carefully interlaced, weaving together. It felt as if she each needed as much hand-to-hand contact as possible. Like Sasha needed it to breathe. Like Shea was rooting Sasha other to the ground. Like if the moment Shea’s finger slipped from Sasha’s hand, she would vanish, gone like a puff of smoke.

        "Sasha!“ Shea gasped, shaking Sasha from her introspection. "We’re here.”

        Sasha looked up, suddenly noticing the transition from concrete sidewalk to a grassy slope. Further beyond, the grass hill transitioned into a sandy bank where the water of a slow-moving river gently lapped.

         "Shea, it’s lovely.“

        "I’m glad you like it. This place means a lot to me. When I was young, I’d race like, little paper boats here with my friends. When I got older, I’d come just to sit, like the river could drown out my thoughts. Emo shit.” Shea gave a small smile at the last part of her admission.

        "I wouldn’t bully you for emo shit, Shea. I’ve been there,“ Sasha promised, recalling Shea’s earlier worries. Sasha grinned, imagining an elementary-school Shea, tottering by the banks of the river, which then morphed into an older, rebellious, sadder Shea. It contrasted so strangely with the vibrant, glamorous woman she was now. Glancing at Shea now, with her plum-colored smile and twinkling eyes, impeccable style and life, it became all the more challenging to see her as an angsty teen upset with the situation she seemed to always make the best of.

        "I have something for us to do. While we’re here, just if you feel like it.” Shea reached for her purse, fumbling with the zipper as the long, lacquered nails of her left hand clacked against the metal fastening. Shea finally tugged open the bag after a long struggle of attempting to hold the purse steady and yank the zipper open with only one hand. Sasha warmed internally upon realizing that Shea’s right hand remained interwoven in Sasha’s own, regardless of temperature or how much easier it would be to open a purse with two free hands.

        "Girl, I know it’s kind of childish, but I brought,“ Shea paused and unearthed two sheets of lined paper, folded into quarters.

        "Binder paper?”

        "No! Well, yeah, but I thought we could make boats and sail them. I have markers too.“

        There is quite a lot of debate on what it feels like to die. Sasha had read much of it in fascination in a philosophical tangent. A specific side of the discussion assumes that it would be quite painful. Regardless of how correct that position really was, when noted bad bitch Shea Couleé eagerly held up two pieces of lovingly creased binder paper, Sasha felt for a split second that she was in so much pain that she had to be dying. The cavity in her chest could not fit her heart as it swelled and grew. Shea Couleé, the pinnacle of presentation, confidence, was nervously presenting her friend with a child’s crafting activity that she had grown up with. Sasha’s face lit up as her chest tightened, her free hand took one of the papers as her head pounded. As Shea’s beautiful hand slipped from her own to hand her markers from her purse, Sasha’s throat closed up, gummy with her overwhelming love. Sasha felt like her hands were full of sand, desperately trying to keep it from seeping through the cracks in her fingers. Like love was seeping through the cracks of herself. Sasha couldn’t allow that.

        After guiding Sasha through the basics of boat-folding, Shea insisted that she keep her design a secret to "prevent copying,” and turned away, covering the Sasha-facing side of her boat with her hand. Shea focused so intensely on coloring designs that Sasha was free to semi-covertly steal glances at her friend and shove her rising emotions down her throat with little fear of being caught.

        Shea had taken her to her teenage refuge. Shea had invited her to take part in an activity fondly embedded in her childhood. Shea held Sasha’s hand. And Shea had not let go.

        It felt like she couldn’t breathe. As she admired Shea’s furrowed brow, her unwavering gaze, the faintest hints of smile lines, Sasha felt like she had to look away. It was too much.

        Sasha remembered a word she learned in an Art History class. Sublime. Something sublime is not merely beautiful. It is not gorgeous. It is so stunningly magnificent that it terrifies you. It shakes you to your core. It scares you because you cannot even begin to comprehend how wonderful and immense and powerful it is. The depth and power of the ocean were sublime. The Grand Canyon was sublime. And above everything, Shea was sublime. She was so powerful and intelligent, beautiful, and deeply sweet that nothing else in Sasha’s life would ever compare.

        "Shea?“

        Turning, Shea responded, "Yeah? I finished my boat–"

        "Shea, I have to say this now. And if it ruins our friendship, I’m so sorry.” Sasha stated quickly, loathing how the slight quiver in her voice made her sound childlike.

        Leaning forward, eyebrows raised, Shea just stared.

        "Shea, I’m so… scared.”

        Shea’s eyebrows raised even higher than before. That’s not how I should have phrased it, Sasha winced at her own words. She slowly met Shea’s gaze, took a deep breath, and then continued:

        “Every time I’m with you, I’m terrified. I don’t know if anyone feels like this, or if anyone is supposed to feel like the way I do when I’m around you. I love you so much because you are so impossibly wonderful.

        And upon saying this, Sasha felt her words speed up and begin emerging of their own voalition, becoming more and more certain as they materialized in the night air.

         "You are like, the, the incomparable expanse of the universe, and when I’m next to you, it’s like I’m sitting next to all the stars in the sky, and I’m so scared. But I never want to be brave again if it means I’ll be without you. I love you because you’re so confident, and I love you because you’re kind, and I’m in love with you because you love a river and paper boats, and you share all of that with me.“

        Sasha closed her eyes and exhaled very deeply, trying not to focus on the deafening silence after her mammoth, rambling, declaration of love. But as her breath left her mouth, it caught on someone else’s lips. Lips that then pressed against her own, firmly, insistently. Lips belonging to one Shea Couleé.

        Sasha’s hands eagerly fumbled for Shea’s waist and pulled her closer, reveling in the kiss and cursing her fingers for obviously trembling.

        The kiss felt so good.

        So much of Sasha’s life lived under the contradiction of celebrating her style and uniqueness but still internally feeling that it made her unworthy of love. So she had to shove it down. To repress it and restrain it. But in one swift movement of her lips, Shea took the crumbling remains of the wall holding back Sasha’s love and obliterated it. Sasha’s love just burst, expanded, surrounded. Sasha wanted to just bask in all of it and to bask in how Shea felt the same way.

        "Look down,” Shea whispered against Sasha’s lips. Despite feeling slightly reluctant to stop kissing so soon, Sasha followed Shea’s instruction. Her eyes widened as she saw a paper boat placed on her lap. The paper boat had a pink heart on the side and large, bold blue letters that said: I love you.

        "Really?“ Sasha gasped, holding Shea’s waist even tighter.

        "Obviously.”

        "Shea, it was rhetorical,“ Sasha gently stroked Shea’s long, thick hair off of her face. "But, you brought me here… with the paper… to tell me you l–”

        "Yes, now shut up you goddamn egg,“ Shea laughed, hushing Sasha with another kiss, pushing her back against the slope of the hill, cradling her head.

        Now, it’s almost always true that parties involved in an event or occurrence are typically biased when referencing the incident. It is absolutely true that Sasha is biased when looking back on this particular event. But when describing that kiss on the hill, Sasha would say that it was positively sublime.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Reflection, a Buddie fic, jealous!Eddie, 3.8k

Eddie Diaz knew a few things. His wife, Shannon, was no longer with them. While he will always love her, it was time for him to move on. Surprisingly, his heart already did without his notice. It set up camp in the hands of his best friend, Buck. And he was too late to do anything about it.

Because Buck has a personal trainer. Buck has a crush on his personal trainer.

If Eddie ever meets the man, he might dip back into his 'phase'. But knowing how that might hurt Buck, he hopes they never run into each other. At a party in Buck's apartment, there's a high chance their paths will cross. Only what happens when Eddie meets Buck's personal trainer?

Eddie stands in a corner, scanning the crowd for a particular face. Shoulders tense, expression smooth like the marble of Buck’s kitchen counters, he broadcasts a very clear message - stay away. Appropriate behavior if Eddie were back at his station overseas and not at a party. A party celebrating a very important person in his life.

He catches Buck’s eyes in the crowd, the other man in the middle of a conversation. Buck lights up, waving him over. Eddie declines, darting away to sip at his beer. Too slow to miss him deflate at the snub.

His heart stutters over itself. A low growl rumbles through his mind, sharp teeth chewing him out for causing Buck’s smile to dim by ten percent. Barks at him to push off from the wall and join him, even at the risk. Slide in close and interrupt Buck while he works through his fifth tangent. Because Eddie knows his friend loses the plot easier than a loose contact and everyone around him looks antsier than soldiers during a surprise mine sweep.  Eddie would then reel him towards an ending, helping lighten the social traffic.

It’s exactly what he wants to do. But a phantom hold keeps him from following through on the fantasy. The fear that, if he were to go over and enjoy himself, the very person he wasted already too much time searching for would surprise him and ruin his fun.

If there’s no fun had there’s none to ruin.

“You doing okay there Eddie?”

Hen and Chimney double team him, fencing him in and blocking his view of the entire party from his post. Any chance of escape stolen by Hen bracing her arm against the wall and Chimney spreading his legs in an awkward way that he finds comfortable. “So I’m not shifting around all the time.”

“But it’s a tripping hazard!”

Chimney smirked, “Too bad.”

Eddie frowns, carefully constructed mask slipping to expose his raw nerves. It rights itself in the next moment. Only the damage was done.

“What’s wrong?” Hen asks, “This is supposed to be a party! Why are you the treating it like a funeral?”

“I’m not -”

“Eddie’s not imagining himself at a funeral, Hen,” Chim interrupts, “no, no, it’s like he’s surveying a fire for any stragglers.” They snicker into their drinks, Eddie rolling his eyes at their antics.

“Real funny, you two,” he sighs, “Look, sorry if I’m being a little bit of a buzzkill but I’m not in the mood to party.” “Then why’d you come?”

He answers with a soft gaze towards the apartment’s entertainment section, Christopher sitting wedged between Denny and Harry playing with Denny’s Switch. Two more controllers added since his birthday, so they can all play Mario Party. Christopher shakes the controller madly to win whatever mini-game randomly chosen, laughing when Harry knocks into him.

“Hurry up dad!” Christopher urged Eddie. He waited by the front door, bouncing with excitement. Eddie shrugged on his jacket, telling him to be patient. “But I want to see Buck!” he said, grinning, “Don’t… don’t you want to?”

Eddie did, but he wasn’t alone. There’s another person here that probably feels the same flutter in his stomach whenever Buck’s form crosses their gaze. Except they can act on it, whereas Eddie has to wait for his stomach acid to digest those damned butterflies.

“That’s sweet,” Hen says, cup over her heart. “But that’s not explaining the stiff upper lip thing your face is doing.”

Chimney nods, “You’re no Brad Pitt but you have a better poker face than this, man.”

His lips thin further, and Eddie wishes a tornado would sweep through the room and suck him out of the apartment. It’s the only natural disaster he feels his family aren’t equipped to handle, meaning they’re less likely to rescue him from death. Although Eddie believes, even if a tornado found a way to travel across the Midwest and to Los Angeles without dissipating, his Texan blood would keep him alive for the fallout. “Maybe I would perk up a little if people stopped harassing me about why I’m not the life of the party?”

“Hey, don’t make us out to be the bad guys,” Chimney says, “we’re first responders.”

“We’re just doing our jobs,” Hen adds. Her finger pokes his chest three times, on the fourth Eddie waving it away.

Chimney steps closer, voice lowering to a whisper. “Really though,” he says, Eddie straining to hear him over the background chatter, “are you okay? You can tell us?”

“Was it therapy?” Hen asks, “I saw you leaving in a huff. Completely ignored me by the way…”

Eddie winces, unaware Hen saw him storm out of their therapist’s office. “My bad,” he winces, scratching his neck, “I would’ve said ‘hi’ if I saw you.”

“I know,” she says, “I could tell you weren’t paying attention. You had this intense glare in your eye like you had before we showed up.”

“Is that what it is?” Chimney arches a brow, “Something your therapist said that rubbed you the wrong way? A breakthrough you weren’t ready to hear?”

Chimney throws darts blindly and lands one close to the bull’s-eye without thought. Eddie bristles at how closely his friend’s guesses were. Although there are a few facts he has wrong.

Like the breakthrough Chimney thinks Eddie wasn’t ready to hear? Not true. Eddie understood his newfound feelings for Buck almost immediately. Already experienced the blinding, gasping fear that came with the development. Scared how things might change, to be around Buck, and what would happen if his affection went unanswered. Especially since he couldn’t hide his heart as easily as he thought. Frank sniffed them out at their session after Eddie’s revelation.

“Why did you shut down just then?” he asked, leaning forward in his wheelchair, “When you were talking about Buck.”

“I didn’t shut down,” Eddie said, crossing his arms. “I finished with the story… not much else to talk about.” Frank chuckled, rubbing at his eye. “What’s so funny?”

“Usually when it comes to the topic of your… friend , Buck, I have trouble getting you to move off the topic.” Shifting, he brings his pen to the notepad and scribbles a few words. “Has there been another rough patch in your relationship?”

Eddie scowled. “I wouldn’t say that. We’re fine.”

“Fine?”

“ Dandy. ” If falling in love with your best friend and coworker could be boiled down to a word, it wouldn’t be that. But did Frank expect Eddie to tell him the truth?

He did. They spent half the session verbally sparring about Buck, Eddie drawing his line in the sand and making sure Frank wouldn’t wheel across it.

“I thought you didn’t like talking about Buck?” Eddie growled. Squeezed the arms of the chair in an effort to keep his cool. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Because you’re making it one.” Frank lost any pretense of entertaining Eddie’s efforts then, laying into the other man. “You think I’m being annoying with this? Imagine what might happen after you leave this room. How are you going to react when your mood shifts when talking to friends or family - or Buck? When you spend time with Buck will you shut down like you did earlier? I assure you that will only draw more suspicion your way.”

Eddie sunk into his seat. “I can handle myself…”

“Or,” Frank continued, “why don’t you let me help you through whatever you’re working through in this safe space. Where, I promise, there is no judgement.”

He mulled it over for a minute, giving Frank the benefit of actually considering his offer. A scene played through his mind, Eddie in the same room with Buck. Neither doing anything important than existing next to each other. In the sequence Buck turned to him and grinned, little birthmark rising slightly and eyes squinting like he stared up at the sun.

Eddie hoped his cheeks didn’t burn like they were in his head, in that room with Buck.

“Okay,” he started, thumb brushing back and forth across his knee, “if you want the truth…” It spilled forth rapidly, Eddie accidentally twisting the knob on his faucet off and unable to stop it. Went over how, after Shannon, Eddie didn’t know if the hole in his chest would ever be filled. That the pain from losing her once hurt so long, and this time her exit was more permanent.

But, without his notice, someone grabbed a shovel and set to work. Slowly Buck stepped into a new role. Went above and beyond what a friend normally did. Especially given his own condition, dealing with the possibility that his career and life were forever over. At first Eddie thought Buck used his time with him and Christopher as a distraction. To numb the terror of not being able to return to the firehouse. Except the cast came off, and Buck stuck by their side. Became even bigger parts of their lives. Sometimes he picked up Christopher from friend’s houses when Eddie or Carla was busy. Or joined them in grocery shopping. Stayed late into the night, helping Christopher to bed and chatting with Eddie until it was one in the morning. No matter how hard Eddie begged, though, Buck would return to his apartment. Eddie watching him hop into his Uber and waiting until he received a text from Buck to go to sleep.

“God,” Eddie scrubbed his face, “I had it bad for him this whole time and I didn’t notice?”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Frank comforted him, smiling, “When we go through trauma, it’s easy for things to fade into the background while you heal. Things change, around you and inside, that you might not notice for awhile because the immediate pain takes up all your attention.”

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed, “I spent so long being glad that I had Buck… I didn’t examine those feelings too closely because I was just happy that the pain from missing Shannon wasn’t there.”

“And when Buck abandoned you, as you mentioned in a previous session…” Eddie shifted in his seat at Frank’s choice of words. “How did you feel? Really feel? Looking back on it with the clarity you have now?”

“I… I don’t know,” Eddie said, “I guess it… pushed me over the edge. Two people I loved choosing to walk out on me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Felt like I was letting Christopher down because I couldn’t give him a stable home… was more like a hotel with one of those revolving doors. It made me mad. And I wanted to hurt people, because maybe then I wouldn’t be hurting inside... God,” he wiped his eyes, laughing, “Buck was right. He was part of the reason I had my… phase . If he found out… his ego was insufferable before.”

“Your confession is safe with me,” Frank told him, “I’m glad we could work through this in today’s time. If you held out a bit longer I was afraid we’d be cut off in the middle and it’d be forever to get you to where we’re ending today.”

“Thanks, Frank,” Eddie said, standing, “I… I needed this.”

He scheduled another session the following week, proactively dealing with his issues. While they covered many things in the hour there were still more to discuss. When his next appointment arrived Eddie wasted no time dumping the remaining worries at Frank’s feet. Like a man dangling off the edge of a skyscraper begging for someone to help him away from the edge.

Frank hauled him onto solid ground with sound logic. “If Buck is all that you say he is,” he explained, “than in the possibility where he didn’t return your feelings occurred, he wouldn’t call it quits like that. You need to have a little faith that things can turn out good.”

“It’s hard, though. When every time I have that faith it all goes sour on my end.”

“Well maybe this time things will turn out differently.”

Eddie took Frank’s advice, deciding that the next moment alone with Buck he would hand him his heart and pray he kept it.

However he could never be alone with Buck.

In the following weeks, any chance where they were the only two in the room was spoiled by a third party joining almost immediately. From fellow firefighters to random strangers. Christopher, when Eddie tried sneaking out to meet Buck. Caught and forced to bring him along since he cannot say no to his son. While at the park, watching his son play, he thought about telling him there. But then Athena walked in, apparently on patrol. So desperate Eddie considered faking an emergency so he could claim the ambulance for him and Buck and confessing on the way.

Eddie was desperate.

Instead of risking a felony, Eddie went with an even riskier option.

“Buck,” he sidled up to his friend, swinging an arm over his shoulders, “You good to join me in the gym for a little one-on-one?” Not the safest place given how accessible their gym was in the open floor plan. If he timed the barbell lifts right, Eddie could give them some protection.

Buck deflated, stepping away from Eddie’s hug. “Sorry, Eddie… no can do.”

“What? Why?”

He frowned, tilting his head in confusion. “Really? You know why…” At Eddie’s silence, Buck continued. “Ever since the accident I… I can’t work out like I used to. I had to switch up how I do things and… find new ways.”

“Oh,” Eddie mirrored his expression, “How, uh… how have you been exercising then? Because - I mean - you’re still looking fit and everything and you had to keep up your strength when going through training of course…”

Buck smiled, ducking his gaze to hide a blush. The sight of flushed skin sent chills racing down Eddie’s spine. “Been doing some classes, got a personal trainer… who I really like. He’s - uh, he’s cool. Derek, I… it’s been different, but uh - uh new. In a good way.”

A good way. Said to the floor yet Eddie still bears the brunt of the blow. Repeatedly suffering with each mention of ‘Derek’. Especially since, after first finding out about him, he becomes a recurrence in his life.

“There’s this really cool trick Derek showed me that’ll cut cramp recovery in half the time.”

“Derek, he had this really funny story he was telling in the middle of our planks…”

“I didn’t think yoga was that effective, but after one class with Derek I can see why people do it.”

Derek. Derek. Derek. He took his place in Buck’s life as his exercise partner without him knowing. The longer he waits the better chance he has of graduating from ‘trainer’ to ‘boyfriend’.

But Derek keeps him at bay. The specter of him shadows every conversation they have. Eddie imagining telling Buck his feelings only to be shot down because some random guy swooped in and struck the scalding iron while Eddie didn’t even know the metal was hot. As more time passed, Eddie sparingly saw his friend.

“It could be nothing,” Frank said. Eddie ignored him, pacing the room. “If you talked to him -”

“I mean it’s perfect,” Eddie spiraled, “being a trainer means that he can get close without there being any questions. Touch Buck’s muscles or - or press his chest to Buck’s back while showing him how to do a move or whatever.”

“If he does then that’s harassment, Eddie. Buck pays him to be his trainer and nothing more.”

“But it could be something,” Eddie turned to him, “The way he talks about Derek… there’s this stupid smile on his face that he gets when he has it bad for someone. Had it when he told me about Abby, when he was with Ally... “

“Did he ever have it when he was with you?” Eddie stayed firm in his silence, refusing to answer him. Frank continued, undeterred. “You’re jumping to conclusions without all the facts. If you talked to him -”

“It wouldn’t make a difference! He’s already gone on some other lucky jerk.”

“And is that so bad?”

He stiffened. “What do you mean? Of course it’s bad!”

“I don’t believe you think that,” Frank said, “To me, it sounds like you’re using this Derek as an excuse to back out of confessing your feelings to Buck. You’re afraid Buck might say no. Having Derek there is the perfect option because if he’s in Buck’s life than you don’t have to tell him.”

Eddie imploded. Glared at Frank, biting down every bit of bile he wanted to spew at his therapist. Swallowed it all and stormed from the room before he did something he regretted. Carried that dark cloud with him from the parking lot to Buck’s apartment where they surprised him with another party. Celebrating him being off blood thinners and hopefully not have it end like last time.

“What happens in therapy stays in therapy,” Eddie mumbles, pushing off the wall, “now if you’ll excuse me.” He escapes them, squeezing through the sewing needle loop between Hen and Chimney.

They follow, matching his hurried pace. Trying to carry the conversation even though Eddie keeps dropping it.

Luckily he sees a distraction by the mirror. Christopher stares at himself, smiling. Eddie walks over and crouches down next to him. “Hey, buddie, what are you looking at?”

“Denny said I had a piece of spinach stuck in my teeth,” Christopher says, “but I… can’t see it.”

Eddie studies his son’s teeth, aware of the figures standing behind him. “I don’t see it either.”

“Denny probably did that so he could cheat,” Hen sighs, “boy is the sorest of losers.”

“You should get back to your game, then, before you end up in last place.” Eddie squeezes Christopher’s shoulders, resigned to losing his shield against the circling vultures. He reaches forward and places a hand on the mirror’s frame, using it to steady his ascent.

At full height, Eddie notices his reflection fading somewhat. Suddenly a figure pops up, smiling and sweating, frozen in mid stretch.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Buck rushes over, smile twitching with nerves, “what, uh… what’s everybody doing?”

Chimney jerks his thumb at the scene. “Wondering why there’s a man trapped in your mirror?”

“There is?” Buck feigns surprise, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “I don’t - I don’t know how he got there?”

“What? Of course you do, Buck,” Maddie says, joining the conversation, “I helped you set him up and everything.”

“Maddie -”

“Maddie,” Chimney cuts Buck off, “you know what’s going on?”

She nods, pointing to the man in the mirror with her cup. “Being Buck’s sister I was the only one who was forced to listen to him complain about how he was going to lose everything he worked so hard for. Just because he couldn’t work out like he used to because of the accident. One day while listening to him go on and on about it this ad popped up for mirrors that double as personal trainers.” A string snaps in Eddie’s mind, the sound echoing madly. He looks over to Buck, the other man watching his feet while his ears burn. “Anyway I said I would personally buy this mirror for him if it would get him to shut up. He agreed, but only if he liked it. Day after it arrived Buck wasn’t complaining anymore. Best paycheck I ever spent…”

“Wait,” Hen glances between Maddie and the mirror, “so this is a personal trainer?”

“Yeah,” Maddie leans over to tap the glass, despite Buck’s attempts to stop her. The screen shifts and an array of faces smile at them. Derek’s larger than the rest, head enlarged and name clearly labeled below it.

There he was. Derek .

“You can pick from a whole array of trainers depending on what classes you want. It’s really interesting, and Buck seems to like it.”

“Maddie -”

“I figured you all knew about it since he’s replaced complaining with praising his trainer Derek,” she chuckles, elbowing her brother. “Little teacher’s pet.”

“ Maddie .”

Their small crowd thins after that. Christopher returns to his game, and Chimney leads Maddie towards the kitchen to steal some more food. Eddie stares at Derek, a mixture of confusion and relief churning in his stomach.

Hen sidles up to him. “You wanna know something?”

“What?”

“That Derek guy kind of looks like you.”

Eddie whips around in shock, ready to fire a denial. She dips before he can pull the trigger, safe by her wife’s side. Loaded and nowhere to go, Eddie looks at Derek. Sees how, in a certain light, they could be reflections of each other. However Derek’s hair is much longer than his, pulled tight in a bun, And there’s a mole under his nose that draws the eye to it without trying.

Derek disappears, the mirror returning to normal. It’s his face gazing back at him now, Eddie’s a few inches to his side.

“So,” he says, “you’ve met Derek.”

“Yeah. I did.” Eddie turns to him, “Why didn’t you tell me he was in your mirror? I’ve been here how many times, used this mirror, and it had a double life?”

“I… I guess I was embarrassed,” Buck tells him, wringing his hands, “of…”

He guesses, “Of him being in a mirror.”

“Well, that,” Buck says, eyes bouncing around the room, unable to meet Eddie’s stare, “and, because…” His words dissolve into dust.

Eddie understands. Finally sees what he needs. An emotion reflected in his own eyes, not distorted by doubt or fear.

“Y’know,” he starts, running a hand across the mirror’s surface, “this is pretty cool.”

“...It is.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, smiling at Buck’s face in the mirror, “think you could invite me over the next time you use this?”

Buck frowns, “Why? You already got a good routine going.”

“I’ve been in the mood to shake things up,” Eddie tells him, “and besides… I missed working out with you.”

“You did?” Mood shifting rapidly, Eddie swoons at the dizzying grin lighting up Buck’s face.

“Of course…” Eddie’s hand runs across Buck’s reflection, petting his chest, “there’s a lot of time I have to make up for. We can start with exercise and… go from there.”

Buck nods enthusiastically. “I’d like that.”

The party goes on without them, both men are lost in their own world. Eddie feels the darkness that ate at his heart fade, replaced by the warm embrace of understanding. In lieu of talking Eddie prepares for his exercise date. Stretches the words in his mind so they’ll be ready for the day. Imagines how it will go. And, when successful, Eddie kisses Buck. Derek long gone from the mirror. Only them captured inside it.

[juhihuji]

my big cringy text post full of useless info about Juhi Zo (oc)

Uhhh this is in response to the anon from curious cat who asked ‘bout my oc...it was too much text.......

Hey. HEY? r u tryna make me cry cuz that's how you do it I'm so happy ppl like her when I was so ashamed and embarrassed to show her lmao Ah...there's so so so much about her and I've tried typing it out over n over but it's hard to tell her story without going off on long tangents trying to explain other details. Like, it wouldn't make sense without them...and I didn't wanna make this post super long and I'm still embarrassed about talking about it ...I hope u r cool with just hearing random facts and snippets of story about her ah I'm sorry ;_;

I created her with the intention of using her for self inserting/shipping lmao but that's probably obvious...and idk if she breaks any rules of the universe and I feel weird talkin' about her cuz I'm only in the middle of Shippuden so I don't know what the whole world is like lol but uuh

She's left handed

One of her hobbies is jewelry making. She mainly uses wire and ceramic beads and gives them as gifts to her friends. They might wear it to be polite but nobody really likes it lmao

Her team consists of herself, her lil brother Zitien, her big sister Agneya, and is lead by her mom or dad. They switch out cuz they care about spending time with their kids lol

Some of my art depicts her skin tone as richly saturated for aesthetic reasons, but she's meant to be quite grey because of a mineral in her body! It's part of her kekkei genkai™

She has a seal on her back and it's got two parts! One seals her entire weight, the other seals her entire temperature???? Kinda like how Tsunade's holdin' in her old, like suckin' in a gut. It's like that with Juhi's body temperature and weight and she can partially open each seal individually. Full grown at 5'4", she weighs 3.4 tonnes unsealed and her body is a hot hot 2100°C when unsealed. She's just super dense and hot and heavy! Like she's made of metal or something. When fully unsealed the weight and heat can warp her body structure as if she's melting, and when she seals that shit back up and her body cools back down she could remain permanently deformed! There are doctors on her home island who specialize in fixing some of that through corrective surgery, like parts of her skeleton fusing into one big mass, but not everything can be fixed! So she's gotta watch it!

 She has nightmares about her face melting and people being scared of her or not being able to recognize her cuz you can't bring the face back to normal after it melts. Everyday she wakes up and checks her face obsessively to make sure all her features are the same distance apart and the same shape and whatnot

Even when fully sealed, full grown she weighs 300 pounds with an internal body temp of 40°C and for that reason she sinks like a rock and is terrified of large bodies of water! Learning to walk on water was the first thing ppl of her clan with the same kekkei genkai learn.

When her temperature is higher, she can (for the most part, aside from the melting at the highest temps) withstand and survive temperatures the same as hers or slightly higher, but for example at an internal temp of 400°C she will burn at 450°C

 I love drawin' sweat and I even draw Juhi with sweat on her body cuz I can't help it but she doesn't sweat! She's always dehydrated and most of her body's moisture evaporates through exhalation as a complication caused by her kekkei genkai.

People from her island are trained to use a different type of chakra and her kekkei genkai also makes her body extremely efficient in using that chakra, so a little goes a long way. One of the things that comes from that is she doesn't typically get uncomfortably hot or cold. She can sense changes in temperatures, but her body is really efficient at maintaining homeostasis and she just don't get too bothered by it! To a point, anyway.

wow i talked lots about her KG but just the boring useless facts about it and not what it actually is but i did say random hahee :•)

For her Naruto AU she exists on a branching timeline, one branch where she falls in love with Shino and one where she falls in love with Kankuro! ew!

In the Shino timeline she takes on a more taijutsu focused fighting style thus we have taiJuhi! 

Because of her weight/density she moves pretty slow for a ninja, but her mental reaction speed is typical of any decent shinobi. So don't let her catch you cuz her punches swing like a cannon and she will grapple her opponents and cook them alive. Her weight also makes it hard to knock her off balance.

Not great at long distance fighting. Sometimes uses a metal two-handed weapon.

Bein' a ninja's really tough for her since she's slow, but she wants it badly and works hard to keep up

Later in life she moves to and works in Konoha at a nuclear power plant owned and run by her clan wtf

Shino has been to Juhi's home island a couple times and he has to wear a lead suit to survive the harsh and nearly uninhabitable environment. The people from the island evolved to withstand it.

The first time he went, they took a ship to the island then went by train for a few hundred miles into the centre where the village is. The first time was for a mission, another Aburame came too. Some time during their friendship, Juhi gifted Shino beetles from her island that can survive the environment. Shino selectively bred them to be usable as an extra layer of protection beneath his and his clansman's skin to protect their internal organs while on the mission! How goofy

In the Kankuro timeline she takes on a more ninjutsu focused fighting style thus we have ninJuhi! 

Later in life she works a job 6 months out of the year on her home island as a sentinel for the family who governs the island?? 

In this timeline she dies some time during the events in Boruto ig (still haven't gotten to Boruto yet tho). Her seal malfunctions and everything she touches burns or melts and everywhere she stands she sinks into the ground. She's far from home and all she can think to do to save everyone from herself is to run into the ocean. Her footfalls sound like thunder and the ground shakes deeply as she pounds the ground running towards the shore. The sand turns into a hard crust beneath every foot step that hits the beach. Suddenly, her sprinting figure turns into noise and white haze as she reaches the tides and nobody can see her anymore. It's the water, hissing deafeningly loud as it evaporates into thick clouds instantly upon contact with her body. Her body's efficient energy usage takes her far into the ocean before she begins to run out of chakra. Her body starts to cool down from the ocean water and she's getting too tired to hold up the weight of her 3.4 tonne body. Eventually she crumples on the ocean floor and dies, melting and embedding into the earth's crust.

She loves spicy food

uhhh that was a lot of boring information sorry about that! wanted this post to be short but got carried away :•( her life's supposed to be kind of a crooked painful mess but she's pretty cheery cuz to her it's all normal and she's got the love and support of her friends and family baby! ain't that how it always goes in Naruto also sorry for sloppy writing im dum

[mari-vargas]

Hey so…this feels like a weird thing to write about as a story time—because it’s not really a story I ever tell—but…I guess I’m doing it anyways.

I’ve been seeing some posts lately about how it always seems like fanfic writers stumble on the worst of luck (ie family dying/hospital visits/BOTH at the SAME TIME) and simultaneously, I’m also reading A/Ns saying exactly that. I’m not entirely sure if there’s some deeper meaning behind it—like: “oh shits hitting the fan I’m gonna go bury my head in the sand until it passes by writing” or “I need encouraging words right now so I’m gonna write and enjoy the comments” or “I’m channeling my feelings through writing” and so on and so forth—or something else entirely, but…I guess one of my takeaways is that…how do I word this? I guess just that it’s not uncommon. That old saying “when it rains it pours”? Things happen, and they just keep on happening.

I feel like I’m kinda getting away from my initial attempt at writing this so I guess I’ll just get into it.

Around the start of my senior year of high school I decided I wanted to try and improve my writing skills. I almost didn’t graduate three years in a row (yes, the last was in fact my senior year) because of English. Thankfully I only failed (and had to retake during summer school at my comprehensive high school) one semester of it, but regardless… Look. I’m a math person. I’m a book worm and a history addict and a pretty darn good editor but in all reality math is basically my native language. It’s the only thing that doesn’t seem to have to be translated in my brain. I feel like I’m about to go off on a tangent so… I’ll just get back to it.

My point is, I wanted to get better at writing. Finally, all these years later I have a much better understanding of where I went wrong, but that’s not what I’m here to tell. Quite frankly most of what I’ve written so far isn’t. I wanted to be better at writing stories, but all I’ve ever managed is rambling detailed plot summaries (if anyone finds the stories I wrote, trust me I’m well aware they’re super cringey but I refuse to take them down because as you may know if you read these my life motto is to live life with no regrets). My best friend actually convinced me that maybe writing fanfic would be a good idea. It’d keep my interest and I tended to come up with stories anyways so I might as well write them right? And if I posted them, well hey? That’s encouragement to keep it up right? So I decided ah what the heck sure. So I did and now I share it with people who are like “ah come on you can’t seriously be that bad when you also say you helped your sister pass her writing classes?” (No I’m not joking. I’m just glad my niece inherited my mother and grandmother’s communication skills along with also being brilliant in math/science/and mechanical/engineering stuff—no joke I’m terrified) Getting side tracked again, sorry.

On April 1st of that year, my great grandfather flat lined. He had a DNR order, but the paperwork was sort of…lost or misplaced in the shuffle and kerfuffle. He was revived. And honestly it felt like the worst April fools joke except it was real. He did however pass away a few months later in the middle of summer. And the very day after that, my grandpa on my other side passed away. I was in the middle of writing a multi chapter story (my only story at all at the time) and I wrote an A/N to let whoever might’ve maybe been reading it that “hey yeah I’ve been delusional thinking I could keep this up and I only realized because two relatives just died a day after the other and I have to put all this other stuff on hold” etc etc. Rereading that note now it sounds really goofy to be honest but at the time…at the time I just kept trying to put on a happy face when all I could think about was how glad I was to have been able to go to my great grandpa’s last birthday celebration, and how glad I was that my only living grandpa had made it to my high school graduation. I kept thinking about how that great grandma and my other grandpa died when I was only a few months old and now this happened just after I graduated high school. I kept thinking about how both my grandpas died from cancer. I kept thinking about a whole bunch of coincidences and feeling like everything must’ve somehow been my fault. I felt horrible and awful and I was terrified people were going to die just by association to major events in my life.

I ended up writing a one shot, basically venting all of my pent up emotions I was refusing to feel—because I felt I didn’t deserve them—and while I’m not sure, I think that might’ve been when I started healing. And you know what? While it’s still not something I think is deserving of high praise or anything, I actually think it’s good. It’s something that if someone else had written it, I’d have been ecstatic to read it.

I’ll be honest I’m not even sure what my point was, aside from “ya I was a writer and during that time shit happened and I can relate to that thing I mentioned at the start”. I’m feeling a little bummed out right now so… hey maybe I’ll write about my adventures with my teeth next seeing as today marks the end of my aligners?

[aquarianlights]

What about the beach do you love most?

Ohhhh man. . .what ISN'T there to love about the beach?? 😂 I love it all. . .but, most of all? The water. That beautiful, aqua-blue, crystal clear water. Idk if you saw the pictures I posted on FB on Ogunquit, ME. . .But, dude. That right there. . .that water. . .that is the kinda beach I'm talking about. Fine white sand, nice cool water, jetties, crystal clear water, deep aqua blue colouring in the water as you look out (giving it an ombre effect), sun and moon and sky and stars reflecting off the waters surface, glimpses of water tension, waves...WAVES, BRUH!!! And cool fish and birbs. Although, I could do without the crabs. Idk HOW IN THE WORLD my friends and I used to go ghost-crab hunting at night with our friends dad. Like damn. We would just pick them up with our bare hands......fuckin' fearless. Have I ever told you the story of why I have a p bad crab phobia??? I may have. I tell it to everyone coz it sounds like something out of a horror story.Aight. Well. As you know, I lived in different places in FL for like 95% of my life. I was born there. I grew up there. I went to college there. I'm still going to college there. :V BUT ANYWAYSThis basically means I have been in EVERY. SINGLE. HURRICANE. Since 1992. I'm not kidding. Every. Single. One.During ONE of the hurricanes. . .I think it was Katrina. . .we woke up to something HORRIFYING after the power went out. Our house had sliding glass doors that lead out to the fenced in patio with a pool, jacuzzi, and waterfall in the middle of it. Welp, Katrina whipped the screen and support poles down almost instantly. Oh, it should also be pointed out that our backyard was a marsh. A really big marsh. A marsh that lead right to the beach. Going around the marsh to get to the beach from our house was a 5 minute walk minimum. Usually less.THIS IS IMPORTANT BECAUSE guess what lives in abundance in marshes and the ocean? THAT'S RIGHT, FAM. CRABS. GIANT, FUCKING, BLUE CRABS. WITH.THE HUGE CLAWS AND THE BIG GOOGLY EYES THAT BLINK AT DIFFERENT INTERVALS.Yeah okay. So. . .the events went like this. . .Katrina knocks the power out, obvs. . .Katrina knocks down a few trees. . .then knocks down the fencing and structure surrounding the pool. . .eye of the storm hit, which meant time for me to take the dog out (only had Shadow at that point...RIP Shadow). So we go to the boarded up sliding glass doors and hear this sharp "klick, klack" scraping against the windows that reached from ceiling to floor. My mom and dad make me stand back (I was a little kid during this). . .and they take the board away.Pressed up against the ENTIRE LENGTH of the sliding glass door...all the way from side to side....and floor to ceiling......were PILES UPON PILES of blue crabs. There was no light getting into the house coz they were stacked so firmly. They just kept staring and staring and clicking their ginormous claws against the glass. They were everywhere. Not just that pane....but every other door and window....when we caught a glimpse outside. . .the pool AND jacuzzi....were FILLED WITH THEM. I'm talking at least 3ft high of crabs stacked on top of each other at the bottom of the pool...the whole length of it, too.I don't think I have ever been more traumatized by an animal in my fucking life. Every time I see a crab or hear that clicking noise. . .it gives me an instant panic attack.And that's how I got my fear of crabs. Lmao.BUT WOW WHERE WAS I EVEN GOING WITH THIS??? 😂😂😂 UHHHH.Oh.Answer: Everything about the beach EXCEPT CRABS is A+. But the water? More like an A++++++++++++++. A beach with jetties, tho??? 😍 Beaches are the best, fam.And I ADORE the tropical theme to beach decorations. A beach themed house is my all-time favourite!!!Okay, I've rambled enough. Sorry, fam!! 😅 You got me on a tangent. Pffft.

[dearest-sunshine]

Word Count – “Sure just let me … Lie down here.”

Date – August 18, 2018

Word Count – 2270

It’s not every day you get to see the gates of hell while still living. And apparently, I should be lucky. Or so this grim reaper dude says.

        “Honestly man, I was sleeping. Can I go back to sleep? And wake up in my own bed?” the man shakes his head. Honestly, the grim reaper does not AT ALL look like what we make him out to be. Imagine your version of Aphrodite. Yeah. That’s what he or she looks like. Death is HOT. At the moment though, I did not give a single flying shit.

        “I’m sorry ma’am. We need to meet with Satan to figure out what’s going on. Like why you’re here. We may break so you can nap for a second though!” I look at him. And then at the river of lava beside us. And then at the ground which was made of rocks and red sand.

        “Sure. Lemme just…. Lie down here for a sec…” He glares at me and mutters under his breath.

        “Oh, for the love of shit you are one of the most annoying people I’ve ever met. And I deal with some annoying ass people.” I smirk.

        “that’s the goal. Imma make this trip hell. Oh wait.” He rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath and I leap from one boulder to another. Oh well. If I’m in hell I might as well, make it worth it. I mean, aside from the lave and sharp rocks, it isn’t that bad. It’s just like a giant sauna. That I will be trekking. For who knows how long. I groan.

        “How long will this take?” I ask him. Genuinely curious. “I was planning on going to the prom for once and it’s today.” Death throws me a look over his shoulder. Like I should know better. Which is annoying because I’ve never been to hell and I have no clue what’s going on.

        “I have no clue. Time in hell is weird.” Jesus! That is not an answer!

        “God are you always this confusing?” he scoffs. I groan. And we walk. And walk. An hour later or so. (He’s right. Sadly. Time is confusing.) I check my phone. Thankfully, it was in my hand when I fell asleep, so it came with me. I try and turn it on. Instead of my usual lock screen, or a black screen, it shows a red screen. Like pure red.

        “Dammit! What’d you do to my phone? I just want to check the time!” he stops and turns around.

        “Shit do I have to explain EVERYTHING to you? Time is weird here. Electronics don’t work. You cannot die. We need to reach Devil man. I have no clue how long it will take. Now will you shut up? God the dead are NEVER this loud.” I smile. At least he acts human.

                                                                    ~ ~ ~

We walk in silence a bit longer but then I get bored. I hate silence.

“So….” I start talking, not knowing where I’m going. “why are you so fucking gorgeous?” he sighed a little bit. Like he hated explaining but did so all the time.

“I look different for each person. Basically, your version of the most attractive person ever, I am that person. I guess it makes dying easier.” Makes sense. He stopped, and I almost ran into him. He turned.

‘What do I look like to you?” I considered.

“I’m not sure how to describe you. You look kind of normal to me, but I’m not really attracted to the physical. I guess, if I were to describe you physically, you have a fade top. Your skin’s like fucking bronze or something. Your eyes are like a emerald green and you have a sharp ass jawline.” I pause for a second. there’s something else I just can’t put my finger on it. “Oh! Your missing your right pinky and have a scar around your neck.”

He looked at me with his jaw dropped. I felt scared. Did I describe him wrong? Shit.

“Did I..... Do something wrong?” he shook himself and pulled up the hood on his sweater. Funny. You think death would wear like a scary cloak and carry a scythe but nah. Just a red sweater and black pants.

“No.” I snap back from my tangent and look at him. “That’s… that’s what I actually look like. I’ve never had anyone describe the actual me. No one has ever found the real me attractive.” Damn. I’m kinda shocked. I never really had a type. I was kind of attracted to everyone. Just felt more attracted to personality than physical. I mean yeah physical was important, but I never really thought about it. He snapped his fingers in front of me and I shook myself into reality.

“Sorry man. dude… bro… what should I call you?” he laughed as I blushed a bit. Dammit. Why am I blushing?

“I never really had a name. most people just call me death.” I nod.

“That’s fair. I’m gonna name you.” He looks worried. “relax. I’m actually pretty good at naming things.” I consider.

“Jordan.” I nod definitively. He shrugs.

“Not too bad.” We make eye contact and blush. Dammit! “we should probably keep moving.” He says, looking at the distance ahead. I grin, and we start walking. This time, its peppered with conversation. We talk about school, why I’m so excited for prom, what prom is like what it’s like being death, and finally, why the fuck was he only a teenager?

“I’m actually one of the first ever people to die.”

“damn. Why do you look like a…? I dunno… ‘modern’ teen?”

“Because I’ve aged? But not in a biological sense. More I just look like a teen in the certain time period. My clothes and wardrobe change with the times too.”

“Damn. So, you’re like 10,000 years old?” he nodded. “Jesus.”

We walk a bit longer in silence.

“So why were you chosen to be death?” he thinks about it for a minute.

“because of the rest of the… village I guess? Didn’t want to die and I was the one who helped everyone come to terms with it. It was kinda trippy to see the first one die. Like how did you know they were dead? It was strange. Everyone was panicking and I kinda calmed them down. I was actually the last in my village to die.”

“Huh. Heroic.” He smirks and shrugs. “So, what about the devil and god and all that? How does that work?”

“well its different for everyone. It depends on your religion and beliefs. If you’re atheist, its kinda just nothing I guess.” I nod. Makes sense. Growing up in a Christian household, I still hold some of the Christian values even if I don’t support Christianity.

“Yeah. I guess I always figured id end up with hell. Even if I wasn’t pan, I've probably committed enough other sins. I mean who hasn’t?”

Jordan nodded.

“everyone has. It just depends on how bad they are. Honestly, though, I don’t understand why anyone would want to be in heaven. It’s kinda boring there. Then again, Utopias bore me. Nothing bad happening? Hah.” Yeah. I can get that.

“Plus, God is a douche.” I stop. Damn. I mean yeah, that makes sense. But still. Damn.

“How?”

“Well for the first couple centuries, he was really proactive. Very benevolent towards those who worshipped him. Smite those who are bad. Blah blah. He actually controlled hell too. Satan hadn’t really had a reason to be angry at him.

Anyways, after the black plague, he kinda stopped caring. Got lazy. I mean he still listens to his followers, but he got egotistical. Cared only for the opinions of his loudest disciples. He does what they say. Hence, gay people going to hell. All that.

So, after a couple years, Satan gave up. She tried her best to talk some sense into God, but he did not give a flying shit. After a while, she kinda just said fuck it and created a place for those who sinned. I actually enjoy being down here more. She’s like my older sister.

Anyways, she has more of a moral compass than doofus up there so those who really have sinned, molesters, pedophiles, rapists, etc., get actually punished whereas those who don’t really deserve it kinda just chill.

Every couple year, she has me do a sweep of heaven and bring down those who deserve to be punished but went unpunished because they supported God. Also, those who are just kind of sick of God.” I nod. Everything he says made sense. And, honestly, I’m excited to meet Satan now.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

We trek for a while. Finally, I see lights up ahead. Jordan sighs.

        “I forgot. There’s a party tonight. It’s gonna be hell finding Satan.” I giggle when he says hell. Its kinda funny considering the situation. And honestly, he and I have gotten along rather nicely. I’m definitely more attracted to him than I was at the start of the adventure.

        We get to the gates and hear music. I kinda bob along to it. It’s definitely my style. That reminds me. Prom. I sigh, realizing that I’ve probably missed it. Jordan looks at me confused.

        “I just realized that I’ve probably missed prom by now. And my family probably thinks that I’ve run away.” He shrugs. I find myself not really caring anymore either. My family sucked. we enter the party. It looks awesome. Loud music, grinding, food, everything a party needs. God, I love it.  

I start dancing to the music, swaying my hips and all that when I feel a pair of hands on my hips. I jerk around and see Jordan smirk at me.

“Satan’s normally at the middle of the party so we might as well dance our way there.” I roll my eyes but go with it. We grind and slowly make our way through the crowd. It hot and sweaty and so much damn fun. There’s guys dancing with guys, girls with girls, guys with girls, and so much more going on. Jordan pulls me closer and I blush. After about a week together, I can fully admit to myself that I like him. He leans down and whispers in my ear.

“I think I see her but she’s dancing this girl she wants to bone. Let’s give her a minute.” I giggle and nod my head. Leaning back, I wrap my arms around his neck and close my eyes as we ‘dance’. We sway for a minute and then a feel him gently tug on my arms. He spins me around and my eyes fly open with mild shock. He pulls me close as I look up to him. He’s a good 5 inches taller than I am. He smirks, and I feel my face turn beet red. I know exactly what’s happening. I’ve seen movies.

He leans down, and I close my eyes. God. This if fucking magical. I’ve definitely had my fair share of kisses, but none are as good as this one. Let me tell you one thing, person who’s reading this. Kisses are nothing like how they right in books. There are no fireworks. It doesn’t change your life. You won’t get married to your first kiss.

But here’s the thing. While there may not be fireworks, you will feel wonderful. Your toes will curl. You will feel warm. It will feel right. And god, did that kiss feel right.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

We break apart and I look at him. He smirks, and I blush harder than I ever had.

“That was… fucking amazing.” He laughed breathlessly.

“Damn right.”  I looked around. “Oh look! Satan’s staring at us. Joy.” And damn was she. Her mouth was open, and she had frozen. Jordan waved at her and she jolted. A big grin crossed her face as she made her way to us.

“Baby bro!!! you made it! And you brought a guest!” she exclaimed, hugging Jordan and looking at me. “Oh! You must be the one who told me you’d sell your soul to get out of your family and town! I’m so sorry life was so terrible for you. Anyways, you’re welcome to live here. I see you’ve already met my lil bro.” Damn. For someone portrayed as dark and foreboding, she was very bubbly. Then again, Satan was portrayed as male in the bible.

“Hi.” I say, a little shy. Satan was hot as fuck. “I’m Jada. And actually, thank you for listening to my... Prayer I guess? I couldn’t stand another day.” She nodded sympathetically.

“Of course, dear. Now, I know that you’ve obviously met my little brother, so he can guide you to your room.” Jordan nods and takes my hand. He leads me to the house that the party is coming from. We weave our way through couples practically fucking on the sofas and upstairs to a cozy looking hall with multiple bedrooms. Jordan guides me to the next one.

“This one will be yours. Mine is just across the hall.” I nod shyly and consider the room. Its rather lovely. I turn to him a blurt something out that I never in a million years thought I would.

“Will you help me get comfy in here?” I scream internally as I end with a wink. Jordan stares for a second, blinks, and then picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he starts kissing me. The door shuts behind us and the rest is history.